by Jim Heskett
Jefe raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. I’ve never thought of that. But, you are wrong. A knife is the best way.”
Yorick shrugged. “Of course, Jefe. You’re right.”
"I don't know you," the city boss said as he ran fingers through his long hair.
"No sir, my friends and I were just traveling through. We stopped in Pinedale to look for transportation and to fill our bellies."
"And you didn't know the gates would shut on you, did you?"
Yorick shook his head. "No, sir."
Jefe sat back, making his chair creak. He tented his fingertips and narrowed his eyes at Yorick, taking a long look. He sucked in a breath and then slowly pushed it out, for ten or fifteen seconds. “And why should I open the gates for you? Tell me why, when these traveling White Flames bandits who wander the streets want to bring their violence and terror into my city, why I should open the gates just for you and allow that to happen?”
Yorick leaned forward in his chair, maintaining eye contact, trying not to blink. During all of his years of education in the classrooms and battlefield experience, Yorick had learned some diplomatic strategy. Not a lot, but enough to have an idea what Jefe wanted from him. He wanted respect. “I understand the risk you are taking by opening the gates to anyone. I know how hard you work to keep this city safe. In the short time I’ve been here, I can see that much already.”
Jefe waved his hand, inviting Yorick to continue.
“I can only tell you that my mother is sick and she sent word asking to see me before she passed. Sir, if you do not open these gates, I'm afraid I may not get to say goodbye."
Jefe’s head tilted, and something in his face changed. A glint of recognition, perhaps. "Where did you say you came from?"
"Up near Jackson." As soon as he'd said it, Yorick knew his chosen cover story had been a mistake. The only substantial residential area near the former town of Jackson was Wybert’s plantación. "We had a camp in the mountains up there. A small thing, only a few families.”
Jefe shook his head, wearing a sly grin. "No, you didn't come from the mountains outside Jackson. And although you didn't specify how many friends, it's three, isn't it? Just like on the poster the soldados plastered all over the walls of my town."
Yorick put his hands on the arms of the chair, ready to bolt up and dash for the door. Jefe's guards closed in, but Jefe held up a hand and waved them back. "No need to flee, muchacho1. I'm no fan of the king. I was no fan of Wybert’s either. The bastard jacked up his prices for fruit every single year, without adding any quality or quantity. Idiota had no idea how trade should work."
"So, you won't turn us in to the soldados?”
Jefe pursed his lips and tilted his head back and forth, letting another rolling sigh work its way up his body and out from between his lips. "Nah, I don't think so. I don't see how it benefits me to aid the king at this time."
"And you can open the gates for us?"
"I don't think I'll do that, either. Perhaps I should've said that I don't intend to turn you over to the king's soldados now. Who's to say I won't change my mind? The reward is quite large.”
Anger boiled inside Yorick. He tried to stand, but Jefe's guard was on him in a flash. The lithe guard grabbed Yorick by the hair and shoved him back down into the chair. Two quick punches to Yorick's face instantly made his eyes water. The guard stood there after, fist cocked and ready for Yorick to make a move.
Yorick had to spend every available ounce of energy not to retaliate. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward as the guard backed away a step. "Please, sir. Please."
Jefe studied him for a moment, then he flicked his hand toward the door. "No. We are done here. Don't come back."
1 Muchacho: kid
Chapter Thirteen
Valentine began her espionage in the shadows, hunched over, with a bandana covering her face. She tracked Tenney, Malina, and Rosia through town in spurts and broken episodes, always keeping a few steps behind to mask her identity.
And then, she realized how ludicrous it was. These clueless wanderers had no idea about her. If they did, they wouldn’t have stopped in this town and allowed themselves to be trapped here.
Pinedale was full of weirdos. Not a great place to find yourself stuck without a means to escape.
She could blend into the crowds of Pinedale with no problem at all, though. Yes, she had met Yorick’s eyes when they’d been in the mountains outside Jackson, but he wasn’t here right now. As far as Valentine could tell, he’d gone off to petition Jefe to open the gates. A fruitless exercise.
So, Valentine kept a normal distance as the three explored the town, looking for something. She wasn’t certain what. A way to open the gates in case Yorick failed, most likely.
Near the south side of town, the crew of three took up a position at a bench near an expanse of yellowing grass and a rusted swing set that Pinedale claimed was a park. They sat, trying to appear inconspicuous. The act of doing so made them look more conspicuous than ever, but no one was paying attention. This late in the day, people were more worried about their own business. A normal evening in Pinedale consisted of people walking home from work, walking to the restaurants, occasionally taking a little stroll around the shabby inner walls of the town. Now that Jefe had taken this odd step of closing the gates, plenty of people were out, wandering around, seeing the closed gates for themselves.
Either way, no one cared about these three outsiders sitting in the park.
As she stepped off the sidewalk and into the street to cross it, Valentine bumped into a man who decided to cross in front of her at the last second.
“Watch where you’re going,” the man said. He was short and old, with graying stubble and a set of brown teeth. He had more hair jutting from his ears than on top of his head, which was splotched with several birthmarks. Typical Pinedale.
Valentine didn’t care about the man, but she did care to make sure her targets hadn’t heard him yelling at her. No need to bring attention to herself. They seemed to be far enough away not to have noticed.
“You deaf, girl?” the man said, snarling at her.
“It was an accident, and more your fault than mine, to be honest. Move on by, old man. I don’t have time for you.”
He did not seem to take this direction well, because he shot out a grubby hand to snatch her by the elbow. Maybe he thought he’d give her a squeeze to teach her a lesson. But, the younger and faster Valentine jerked her arm back, out of his reach.
“Do not touch me, old man. No one lays a finger on me without my permission.”
Now, he smiled and looked her up and down. “Is that right? And what does it take to earn your permission?”
“Move on by, or I will break any part of your body you bring near me. I’m not in a mood to play.”
Still, he did not seem deterred. He reached out again, and she figured she had no choice. Valentine whipped her hand forward and clamped it down over his index finger. She gave it a quick twist to break it. Her other hand shot over his mouth to mask his pained yell. Then, still keeping him silent, she twisted his finger again. In the other direction this time, for good measure.
Wincing, his knees went weak, and she released him. He collapsed to the dirt, clutching his broken finger and softly moaning.
She bent over and spoke to him in a lowered voice. “When a lady says no touching, you will listen next time. Maybe I’ll break something a lot more valuable to you.”
The man now seemed to have no words, so she left him there and continued the quiet approach of her three targets. When she looked back, he had staggered to his feet and scurried off down the street without any further glances in her direction.
Valentine settled into a spot under the awning of a grocery store, leaning against the glass. She let her head casually tilt in the direction of the outsiders. Something about them fascinated her. Such a fascination was uncommon for Valentine, and that was part of the intrigue. Part of why she hadn’t simply killed
all three of them where they stood.
Curiosity was a strange feeling. One that deserved to be explored. This feeling made her no longer even care about being left behind by her own three running mates.
Her targets were studying the little buildings against the wall where the gate operators worked. Rosia had a pad of paper, and she was creating a diagram of the street and the pathways to the gate.
Valentine smiled. They were planning a breakout, probably as a backup option, in case fearless leader Yorick failed in his mission in Jefe’s office.
Why so urgent to get out of here?
The intrigue felt like a warm drink on a cool night in Valentine’s chest. And, she almost enjoyed not knowing more than she thought she might enjoy knowing. The desire to see if they could pull off such a caper filled her with something beyond curiosity. Eagerness.
She had to admit that this scrappy band of plantación rebels was growing on her. Not enough to avoid killing them and stealing their chips, though. Eventually.
Valentine slipped a hand in her pocket and thumbed the button to turn on the tracker, then she sauntered across the street. Head down, she pointed her face away from the outsiders. She had her sights set on Malina’s bag, sitting on the park bench near her, top open.
Once she was within a couple of meters, Valentine staggered, swerving like a person overflowing with drink. She lurched forward and dropped the tracker into Malina’s bag at the exact moment she bumped into the park bench. Not one of them saw it happen.
Rosia whipped the pad of paper to her chest, shielding it.
Head down, Valentine lifted her hands to apologize. “Sorry. Didn’t see where I was going.”
She changed course and walked away. As she did, she took out her tracker management device and turned it on. With a grin, Valentine watched the little green dot representing Malina’s backpack appear on the screen.
Chapter Fourteen
Rosia gathered everyone around the bed in the hotel room, in a small circle. While most of the businesses in town didn't seem interested in bartering for goods and services, the hotel had accepted prime strips of beef jerky in exchange for a room. If Rosia’s plan worked, they wouldn't need the room for the entire night.
She placed the pad of paper in the center. She and Tenney and Malina sat on the bed in a triangle around it. They were still waiting for Yorick to come back from his meeting with Jefe. They had no idea how long it would take.
Malina had found a copy of Don Quixote on the dresser, and she was flipping through the pages.
“Mal?” Rosia said. “We’re going to go over it now.”
Malina dropped the book on the bed and gave Rosia a flat smile. For a brief period this afternoon, Malina had perked up. But now, she had retreated back into her shell, quiet and small.
Rosia pointed at the drawn lines representing the road leading up to the gate. “This is how it starts. Malina and I walk up to the guards. We don't know how many of these gate watchers will be stationed there late at night. There were only two at sunset, so I can't imagine they will have more than that. If it’s two, we’re good. If one, even better. Tenney, you will approach from the side, so they can't see you. I haven’t noted any surveillance cameras pointed to the interior. The screens they were watching on the inside must link to cameras pointed outward. External threats are what they’re concerned about. This is good. We want their attention pointed outside the town."
“You’re really good at this,” Malina said, her eyes on the pad of paper.
“Thank you. But, it hasn’t worked yet.”
Tenney cleared his throat. "Do I wait for you?"
"I was getting to that," Rosia said. "You hide on the outside of the little shack where they watch the surveillance screens. Malina and I will approach head-on, unassuming and innocent. We’ll be a little flirty with the guards, and this will draw them out.”
Tenney eyed Malina, with a worried look on his face. "Are you okay with this?" Rosia knew Malina had used minor seduction to coax information from Wybert’s men back at the plantación. But, it didn’t take a genius to see she didn’t enjoy it.
Malina nodded. "Yes. I can do this."
"So,” Tenney said, “are you going to draw them out, and then I grab them?"
Rosia shook her head. "No, your main job will be watching for Xevon arriving, at least at first. Hopefully, Yorick will be back soon so I don’t have to go over all this again.”
She paused and held her tongue. She didn’t even want to think about Yorick not coming back from Jefe’s offices.
“Yorick can stay in the car with Xevon so he can look out for guards while Xevon focuses on driving." Rosia traced a finger along the path of one of the sketched dirt roads on her pad. "Xevon comes up this side road. We keep the guards occupied long enough to get the car within striking distance of the gate. Once it's near, we enter the guardhouse, move around inside it, get close to the button, and trigger the gate to open. It all has to happen at exactly the right time. Any warning and we’re in trouble.”
Tenney frowned down at the plan and looked up at Malina. He didn't say anything, but Rosia knew what he was thinking. He was worried.
"This is where you come in," Rosia said, pointing at Tenney. "When we trigger the gate you need to rush in and help us disable the guards.”
“Will we all be armed?”
Rosia cast an eye at Malina. It wasn't too long ago she had killed the scientist in the basement of the mansion, for seemingly no reason. A gun in Malina’s hand was a liability, for sure.
“No,” Rosia said. “There’s no reason for us to shoot them. If this goes well, not a single person will get hurt. It’s all about timing and deception, not force.”
“I’m confused,” Tenney said. “What’s my part when you press the button?”
"We need to physically move them out of the way, so we can make it to the car. They’ll be between us and our exit to the guard shack, and you need to clear a path for us.”
“And when Yorick arrives?”
“Yorick will make sure the car’s back doors are open. He comes by within a few seconds of us opening the gate. Enough time for it to start the process of opening. We rush out when there’s a clear path and jump into the backseat, slam the door shut, then Xevon gets us out of town before they can shut the gate again. The gates took about thirty seconds to close when we watched it earlier. That’s plenty of time.”
Rosia looked around to check the faces of her two companions. They were nodding, absorbing the plan. This was a good plan. It would work. It had to, or else they would have to consider the unpleasant option of a hostile exit.
“The timing is so exact,” Tenney said. “Anything could go wrong.”
“It won’t,” Rosia said, and she held Tenney’s gaze, unblinking. He needed to believe in the plan. That was the first step. If they all believed in it, then maybe they could actually each play their part well enough to pull it off.
The door opened and in stepped Yorick. A large purple bruise covered half of his face.
Rosia jumped up and ran to him. She placed a hand on the side of his face, and he pulled away, wincing. “What happened?”
“Oh, you know,” Yorick said. “The usual.”
"I guess the Jefe did not accept your proposal?"
"No, no he didn't. He’s a petty attention-seeker who likes to toy with people and is only interested in what can benefit him and make him look good. He played with me for a few minutes and then tossed me aside as soon as he’d seen me get my hopes up.” His face turned grave as he made eye contact with each person in the room. “But, he does know who we are. All the more reason to leave as soon as possible.”
“Trust us,” Tenney said, “we understand.”
Yorick leaned against a dresser opposite the bed. “Speaking of which, please tell me you have a better plan than my terrible attempt at begging the town boss.”
Before Rosia could respond, Tenney spoke up. "Yes, we do. Rosia has a solid plan. It's going to w
ork.”
Yorick and Rosia joined hands and sat on the bed together. “Is it a plan you designed?” he asked. When she nodded, he added, “then, of course, it's going to work."
Rosia, Yorick, Tenney, and Malina walked down the side streets of Pinedale. Full dark now. Compared to the plantación, the night sky in Pinedale held infinitely more stars. At the plantación, there were often lights on at night.
But Rosia didn't care about the stars. They had much more important things to do. Collect Xevon, pay him his bounty of one control chip, and get out of this town before someone figured out how to turn them into the king's army to collect the reward.
Rosia kept an eye out for roving guards or spies, but she didn’t see much in the way of surveillance. There were no cameras on top of the buildings in this town. That’s how it looked, at least. A very low-budget operation in Pinedale.
“What are you looking for?” Yorick asked.
“Cameras,” she said.
“Yeah, I haven’t seen any, either.”
“I don’t think they have them here,” Tenney said. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Not having someone in an anonymous building somewhere, watching your every move?”
Yorick scoffed. “If they’d watched our every move, we never would have been able to stage a revolt.”
“Fair enough,” Tenney said, “but I don’t think it was a lack of trying on their part.”
“More like…” Yorick started, then he let air escape his lips for a few seconds. He looked at Rosia. “What’s the word for when you think you’re so much better than you are?”
“Hubris?” she said.
“Sure. Hubris. Wybert never thought we could pull it off. That was his downfall.”
As they turned onto Xevon’s street, Rosia squinted down the line toward his house. She saw the big guy sitting on his front porch. A single light bulb above his head, casting a yellow glow down on his slumped body.
