Renegade 22

by Lou Cameron

  Her long black hair was bound under a red piratical bandanna. Her big gold earrings were either Esperanza’s only concession to femininity or an attempt to convey further ferocity.

  Captain Gringo laughed at her and said, “You look like a sissy pirate.”

  Esperanza enveloped him in a bear hug and replied, “You look like a sight for sore eyes, querido! I was hoping it would be you when they told me they’d hired a big Americano gun. Now I see I did not burn all those candles in vain. What happened to that unpleasant gringo you are feeling me up with? We just heard shots.”

  Captain Gringo removed Bowman’s limp hand from Esperanza’s crotch as she let go of him and said, “Let’s get him on board and cast off poco tiempo. You heard shots aimed at us, and they may come back for the rematch!”

  Esperanza nodded, turned, and led them all aboard, shouting orders to her crew through the fog in a foghorn voice. So, by the time they had the unconscious Bowman stretched out on a bunk in the cabin already assigned to him, the Nombre Nada was backing away from the Limon waterfront with her reversed auxiliary screw. Esperanza told her Chinese cook and/or ship’s surgeon to do something about the nasty cut on the liaison officer’s head, then led Captain Gringo and Gaston back out on deck. She glanced up at the sails flopping limply in the fog above them and called out to the invisible helmsman, ordering him to steer for the harbor entrance under power against the trades and then tack south-sou’east until further notice.

  She waited until they felt the screw reverse under the stern before she nodded in satisfaction and said, “Well, I suppose you muchachos wish for to see what I’m delivering this trip to El Criado Publico, no?”

  They agreed and she led them to a hatchway leading down to the hold. She flipped a switch and turned on her new Edison illumination, asking, “How do you like the way we’ve modernized since you were last aboard?”

  Captain Gringo said, “Nice. I noticed your engine sounds more serious than before, Esperanza.”

  She laughed and said, “I owe that to you, querido mio. Thanks to my loaning la Nombre Nada to British Intelligence that time, the old tub will never be the same. Before they got her back to me they fitted her with an electric generator as well as new internal organs. Same old hull and sails, but now I have a big steam screw that can outrun damned near anything but a torpedo ram.”

  Then she nudged Captain Gringo and added, with a girlish giggle, “Of course, if your ram is still out to catch my screw …” Then she remembered Gaston was right behind them and blushed modestly.

  Captain Gringo chuckled and said, “Let’s talk about the way this El Criado Publico is hung. What do you know about him and his jurado whatevers, by the way?”

  Esperanza led them deeper into the hold, switched on another overhead bulb, and said, “See the cargo for yourselves. I don’t know anything about the rebel faction Tio Sam seems so fond of, muchachos. I have never heard of Los Jurados and their Great Public Servant before, and I thought I knew everyone in the revolution game down Panama way. They say El Criado Publico is a pure Spanish bianco. A law professor before he went loco, I think.”

  Captain Gringo pried open a case as Gaston asked Esperanza why she thought the leader of the faction they’d been sent to help was crazy. The female gunrunner shrugged and said, “He has to be, if he thinks he can beat the Colombian army and navy. They are sons of the bitch, but good. I have played tag along the Mosquito Coast with Colombian gunboats in the past, as you know. That is why I am charging double for this run.”

  Captain Gringo checked the action of the Maxim machine gun in the crate marked: Farm Implements. The machine gun was factory new, and for once packed right, in petroleum jelly. It was chambered for the same .30-30 rounds most military rifles fired down here. But he’d had grim experience in the past with some .30-30 ammo. So he opened a case of the same as Gaston asked Esperanza more about the size and condition of the rebel army they were bound to join.

  Esperanza shrugged and replied, “Really, Gaston, you are asking the wrong person about such matters. I only run guns to rebels. I’m not dumb enough to join them!

  “But you have put into Laguna Chiriqui before, non?”

  “Of course. This will be my sixth run. The lagoon is big and mostly surrounded by mangrove swamps. The place we are making for is a native fishing village, dominated by an old fort left over from the Spanish colonial era. El Criado Publico is using that as his headquarters. I haven’t been inside the walls even one time. We drop off the ammo and supplies at one pier running out to modest depth. Rebel porters take over from there. I’ve let some of my crew go ashore for to get laid in the village. Myself, I stay aboard. I can’t even tell you how many fighting men Los Jurados have, Gaston. Everyone I’ve seen, at a distance, just looked to me like the usual pobrecitos.”

  Captain Gringo found the machine gun ammo to be not only the right bore but well seated in new canvas machine gun belts. He shut the lid with a satisfied nod and asked Esperanza if she had a record of just how many rifles she’d delivered so far.

  The big brunette answered, “Records? For why would I keep records, querido? I am paid for the run, not the stupid shit I deliver. Each time they give me a bill of lading for to give the rebels along with the cargo when I get through the blockade. Since I seldom throw cargo overboard, there has been no unkind discussion about the tally up to now.”

  “The rebel officers accepting delivery keep the bills of lading?”

  “Of course. What would I do with them? I am too delicate for to wipe my ass with heavy bond paper. What makes you two so interested in exact numbers?”

  Captain Gringo pried open another crate as Gaston explained how, if they knew how many rifles the rebels had, they’d have some idea of trés important numbers indeed, adding, “When Dick and I fought for the late lamented Balboa Brigade down in Panama, the Colombians sent a full regiment in, to mop us up, including a heavy-weapons company.”

  Captain Gringo moved some of the wood shavings in the crate out of the way and said, “Here’s something in your department, Gaston. Four-pound artillery rounds. You like?”

  “Only if I am not required to toss them by hand,” sighed Gaston, turning to Esperanza to ask if she remembered delivering any field guns to Los Jurados in the past.

  She thought and asked, “Do you mean cannon? No. Had I had to winch cannon over the side I feel sure I would have noticed. Why?”

  Gaston growled, “Merde alors! She asks why! Esperanza, my pet, to fire four-pound cannon rounds one must have a cannon, non? I fail to understand why even a fool would send artillery shells to a rebel army that has no artillery!”

  Esperanza shrugged and said, “Maybe they already have some cannon in that Spanish fort. Or maybe they’ll give me some to deliver next run. I’ve been making almost one run a week since this business started. So far, they haven’t told me when I’ll be making the last one.”

  Captain Gringo started to ask her more about the mysterious outfit they all seemed to be working for. But just then the schooner caught the trades with her sails and heeled hard to starboard, throwing them all off balance. Esperanza fell back against a wall of crates as Captain Gringo followed, putting out his hands to brace himself and bracing himself indeed on one of the big brunette’s tits. She smiled up at him and reeled him in with her own strong arms, thrusting her nicely padded pubic mound against his fly as she laughed and asked, “Oh, is that all for me?”

  He laughed back and said, “We seem to be out to sea and on our way. I just felt the screw stop.”

  Esperanza’s voice was throaty and earthy as she answered, “No, you didn’t. The screw’s just starting, querido mio!”

  Gaston rose from the chest he’d landed on and murmured, “I’d better see if our friend Bowman is all right. Do you children want me to turn out the light as I leave?”

  Since neither could answer while kissing so warmly, Gaston simply left, not bothering with the illumination. So Esperanza’s big black eyes were warm and inviting as
they came up for air and she started to work on his buttons, saying, “You undress me, querido. It’s more romantico that way, no?”

  He laughed and protested, “Down here in the hold, for chrissake? What’s the matter with your stateroom?”

  She went on unbuttoning him as she explained, “We’ll spend the night in my quarters, of course. But it might be bad for discipline if my crew saw me invite a man there while I’m standing watch.”

  “You call this standing watch?”

  “Si, we are inspecting the cargo. Don’t worry. Nobody else is allowed in the hold without orders.”

  Being a rather basic businesswoman, Esperanza had worked on his belt and fly buttons first. So as his pants fell around his ankles he returned the favor by unfastening her culottes and letting them fall around hers. She stepped out of them and stood with her long shapely legs apart, bracing her ample derriere against the crates behind her as she took his erection in hand and guided it in for a wall job as he spread his own legs to lower his center of gravity. As he entered her they both hissed in pleasure. But he couldn’t help laughing and saying, “Well, hello there. Long time no see!”

  She raised her shapely arms above her head as he peeled off the tight striped shirt, adding, “Wow, long time no see those great bazooms of yours, either!”

  She started gyrating her skilled, familiar vagina on his old familiar dong while she got rid of his jacket and opened his shirt under the gun rig to pull his bare flesh against her own, crooning, “Oh, it’s so nice when old friends get together again. Have you missed me, Deek?”

  “What do you think?” he replied, cupping one of her big buttocks in either palm to start thrusting seriously. She moaned in pleasure but answered with a realistic little smile, “You’ve probably done this to a hundred women since the last time you were in me, no?”

  “Well, not a hundred. You seem to have kept in practice too.”

  She laughed and began to bump harder, contracting skillfully to milk him on the back strokes as she protested, “Only with discreetly met landlubbers, damm it. A sea captain who doesn’t believe in fucking the crew doesn’t get the opportunities a man in your line of work does. But whoever taught you that nice new angle has my undying gratitude. Ooh, that feels so nice on my clit!”

  It must have. The big brunette suddenly groaned as if she’d been stabbed, shuddered in orgasm, and went rubber-limbed on him. He tried to keep her upright, but her smooth buttocks slipped from his now-sweaty grasp and Esperanza slid to the floor facing his frustrated, raging erection. But, as ever, she was a considerate lover, and so as she knelt at his still-booted feet she took the matter in hand and sucked it the rest of the way off for him, which left him pretty rubber-kneed, too. Esperanza did everything well indeed.

  As they lay side by side on the rough planking of the hold, smiling fondly at each other, Esperanza said, “You were right. We should have gone to my stateroom and the hell with what the crew might have said. It’s my ship, and I’m really too weak at heart to make love on my feet.”

  He moved closer and started massaging her between her big strong thighs as he pointed out, “We’re not standing up now.”

  She said, “Es verdad. But I don’t know about these splintery planks, querido mio. I know I’d never be able to stop for a mere splinter or two in my derriere, once we got started. But we’re in the tropics and God knows what sort of infection your knees and my bottom might pick up.”

  He said, “Yeah, we’d better quit while we’re ahead. I can hold out until sunset if you can.”

  She said she didn’t know if she could, as he helped her back to her feet. She plastered her naked body against his and said, “Play with me some more down there, por favor. I fell off like a schoolgirl before I finished coming. Perhaps this time if I am resolved to stay the course …”

  He led her over to a stack of boxes. They were new and, unlike the decking, made of smooth planed pine. He perched her on the pile with her feet off the deck. Then he said, “Lean back. One good turn deserves another, and I’ll take your word you haven’t been with anyone else since the last time you had a bath.”

  She did as she was told, spreading her big thighs in anticipation, but asking, “Are you sure you don’t mind? Maybe if we tried to go sixty-nine …”

  “We’d wind up crippled,” he replied, dropping into position as he added, “Mutual orgasm is neat, but it won’t work in an alley or a cargo hold. Let’s try an experiment.”

  Esperanza lay flat, moaning and drumming her heels on the boxes on either side of him as he proceeded to tongue her clit and run two stiff fingers in and out of her at the same time. She bunched and unbunched her firm buttocks to literally fuck his face as she pleaded, “More! More!”

  So he got three fingers up her and tried for all four as she pulsated on them. But he had big hands, and Esperanza, for all her size, was built smaller than many a petite Latin doll he’d explored in the past. The only place his pinky would fit was up her tight anal opening. So that’s where he shoved it.

  She gasped, “Oh, you’re so wicked, thank God. But don’t get ideas. That finger feels just right, but I’d never be able to take the real thing in my little … Oh, Jesus, Maria, y José, I’m cominggggg!”

  He moved his tongue and fingers faster until she’d enjoyed a long, shuddering orgasm and gone limp as a dishrag again before he rose and thrust his own reinspired shaft into her to finish, legs braced, as he ran it in and out of her soft moist flesh until it exploded inside her.

  She sighed dreamily and said, “I felt that. I like to feel so admired. But maybe we had better save some for later tonight, no?”

  He chuckled and said, “Yeah, enough of these light lunches. We’ll enjoy a full meal and maybe dessert the right way. You do still have that feather mattress in your quarters, right?”

  “Jesus, take it out or move it, Deek! I don’t know why you have such an effect on me, but you know you do.”

  He pulled her erect, kissed her warmly as he slid out of her, and then they got dressed as if nothing had happened. But as they started to leave the hold, Esperanza said, “Kiss me again and then I’ll be good, Deek.”

  So he did, and she said, “Muchas gracias. It’s good to have you aboard again, Deek. If I were the marrying kind, you would never get away from me again, you know.”

  He said, “Don’t talk dirty. One of the things I like best about you is that you play the game like a knock around gent, Esperanza.”

  “Oh? Don’t you like the ass I give you every time we meet?”

  “Yeah, that too. Let’s go topside and see how safe both our asses are right now.”

  *

  As the day wore on, the weather held lousy for sailing but great for gunrunning. The trades were blowing just fresh enough to move the Nombre Nada at a modest clip without blowing away the fog. From time to time they’d sail through a clear patch, and with the winds so light, the sunlit patches felt as if someone had suddenly opened a furnace door above them. But then they’d be back in the cooler fog, which would have made Captain Gringo feel a lot better had they been farther off the treacherous Mosquito Coast.

  He asked Esperanza about that as they stood together near the taffrail, out of earshot from the impassive Indio at the helm. Esperanza explained that she knew all too well about the coral reefs they were risking her keel on, but added that it was a stout keel and that the gunboats on patrol farther out to sea could really do a lot more damage with their deck guns when you got down to brass tacks. So he said she was the skipper and went to see how Bowman was making out.

  He found the liaison officer still unconscious but not alone in his cabin. A little redhead wearing a Gibson Girl blouse and an ankle-length skirt above her high-button buff calf shoes was seated on the bunk beside Bowman, wiping his forehead with a damp towel. She shot Captain Gringo a timid smile as he came in and asked, “Are you the one who saved my Jim from those awful men, sir?”

  He said, “I’m Dick Walker. Sometimes a guy needs saving.
Who on earth are you, ma’am?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Martha Pendergast, Jim’s intended.”

  The tall American frowned down at her and demanded, “Intended for what? Didn’t Bowman tell you we’re on our way to join up with a rebel army?”

  “Yes, and isn’t it thrilling? You must be the one they call Captain Gringo. Tell me the truth, do you really think I’ll get to see any real fighting down in Panama?”

  “I sure hope not, ma’am! No offense, but this is really dumb! Nobody said anything to us about girls tagging along. Do the people your Jim is working for, know he brought you along?”

  The redhead looked bewildered. He was getting the impression that it was easy for her. For, while she was a pretty little thing, she didn’t look too bright, and they already knew her boyfriend was pretty stupid. She said defensively, “Jim said it was our own business. I told him I’m his intended. We may be able to marry in Panama. Jim says they have a nice provisional government already set up there, with justices of the peace and everything, see?”

  Captain Gringo said, “Honey, I don’t know what the rebels have set up. But I know Colombia has a modem army and navy. I know they hold rather draconian views on rebels, too. If you were to fall into their hands, they’d execute you for sure, after.”

  “After what?”

  “Never mind. Move over and let me see if he’s ever going to wake up enough for me to tell him what I think of him for bringing you along.”

  She made room for him to kneel by the bunk and examine the knocked-out Bowman. He had one hell of a bump on his skull, but nothing as solid as bone moved under the flesh when Captain Gringo felt his injury. Martha said, “Careful. Don’t hurt poor Jim.”

  He replied, “Poor Jim’s already hurt. I’m trying to figure out how bad. His breathing seems okay. Flesh a little cool, but he’s not in real shock. If he comes to and nobody else is around, make sure he doesn’t try to leap out of bed at you. Sometimes a guy recovering from concussion feels better than he really is when he wakes up. The tricky part will be to keep him quiet in bed for at least a full twenty-four, no matter what he says he feels like. Got that?”