Bandolero (A Neal Fargo Adventure Boook 14)

by John Benteen

  Villa read his face. “You see, now?” he said quietly. “All that’s lacking is one more spark in the border powder-keg. And I think Carranza’s ready to throw it.” Still watching Fargo’s face, he said, “Very well. If you' need more proof ... ” He raised his voice. “Mandsidor! Bring the American woman here!”

  Mandsidor nodded, went out, Fargo stared. “The—?”

  “Wait,” Villa said, grinning faintly. “Only wait.”

  Then, from outside the hut, a furious, brassy, female voice split the silence. “Take your dirty hands off me, you lousy greaser!”

  Mandsidor grunted something, must have given her a push. She stumbled through the hut’s door, across the room, brought up hard against a wall and turned. “Damn it,” she rasped in that brassy voice, “who—?” Then she saw Fargo and broke off. “Well, hell’s bells! Somebody else from God’s country!”

  Villa was grinning without much humor. “Colonel Neal Fargo,” he said, “allow me to introduce Senora Elizabeth Baines. Senora. Colonel Fargo is the man who’ll take you safely to El Paso.”

  ~*~

  Pressed against the wall, the girl raked her eyes over Fargo and slowly straightened up. Not more than twenty-five, her blonde hair had come from a bottle, and its roots were dark. Still, it was combed and fell shimmering about her shoulders, and she was something to look at, her face dominated by huge, green eyes, a wide red mouth with hard lines at its corners. She wore a red blouse, a divided leather riding skirt, and boots, and beneath her clothes her body was ripe and striking, breasts large, waist slim, hips curved. She looked at Fargo without fear and with a growing curiosity and interest stirring in those green eyes like a kindled flame.

  “Well, thank God. It’s about time an American showed up in this flea-heaven. I’ve been here for damned near a month and I’m downright sick and tired of garlic-eaters. If you’re takin’ me to El Paso, friend, let’s get a wiggle on. I’ve been down here in this cactus patch long enough!”

  Fargo only turned to Villa. “Pancho—”

  “Neal, I told you how the Carranza men took mining engineers off the train and shot them, in my name. Well, she’s the wife of one of them. They took her prisoner after they had killed her husband—”

  “Why didn’t they kill her, too?”

  Villa grinned. “I think you can look at her and guess the answer ... Anyhow—” He turned to her. “Senora, you’ll tell Colonel Fargo your story. All of it, especially about O’Brien.”

  She’d already spotted the mescal bottle. “First, I want a drink.”

  Fargo passed it to her and she drank from it long and deeply, like a man, then wiped her mouth. “All right,” she said.

  “Let’s start at the beginning,” Fargo said harshly, having sized her up, now. “Which house you come out of?”

  She looked at him, laughed. “It shows, huh? Okay, the Rio Rest, down by the river in El Paso. You ever been there?”

  “No.”

  “Ought to try it. Best parlor house in town.”

  “I don’t pay for it,” Fargo said. “Go on.”

  Her smile vanished. “You’re damned high and mighty, huh, big man? All right. Here it is, then. That knucklehead Baines hung around El Paso for a long time, waiting for permission to go back to Mexico. Mostly, he spent his time high rolling in the Rio Rest. Fell in love with me, handed me a lot of guff about how he owned a mine in Mexico, soon as he could get back in, he’d be a millionaire. Like an idiot, I fell for the line and when he asked me to marry him, I did. I thought, what the hell. If something happens to him, at least I get the mine.”

  “You’re a hard piece of goods.”

  “I’m a professional,” she smiled mockingly, “at what I do.” The smile went away, turned sullen, as Fargo’s eyes did not respond. “Anyhow, I took the plunge and got on the train with him to Chihuahua. He promised me it was absolutely safe, but next thing I know, here was O’Brien and a bunch of spies in gold-braided hats, Dorados, Villa’s Dorados, they called themselves. Blew up the engine, took all Americanos off, lined up the men and killed them. O’Brien figured I’d be more fun alive than as a corpse and he took me along. Of course, by then I knew Baines was a liar and a phony and worked for hire like anybody else, his mine was a pile of crap. So I didn’t waste no tears on him, you bet.”

  “I bet,” said Fargo. “Who is this O’Brien?”

  “He ran the outfit. Half Spanish, half Irish. Carlos O’Brien, Colonel Carlos O’Brien, a big mean stud that’d make two of you. I stayed with him for a month, and then I ran away.”

  “If he’s that much man, I’m surprised you’d leave,” said Fargo.

  “He’s the one that left, back to Mexico City. And he wanted to hand me over to his greasers. Me, I don’t handle that kind of trade, so I got away.”

  “Considering where you are, I’d soft-pedal that greaser stuff.”

  Elizabeth Baines laughed. “In my book, a Spic’s a Spic. Anyhow, me and O’Brien got real close. He told me all about what he planned to do sometimes this month, how he was going to hit Columbus ... ”

  “Hit what?” Fargo snapped.

  “Columbus, New Mexico,” Villa put in brusquely. “A little town just across the Fronteriza about three miles from Las Palomas, Mexico.”

  “That Columbus,” Fargo said, understanding. “But, hell, the Thirteenth Cavalry’s stationed there.”

  “Yes, that’s the point,” Villa said. “He takes them by surprise in a lighting raid with a big force. Kills American soldiers and civilians and burns the town and is gone south again like a ghost. But not before he makes sure everybody knows Pancho Villa did it.”

  Fargo’s jaw set. “I see. Frame you. And then the American Army will have to come into Mexico.” Now it was he who began to pace. “You’re right, Doroteo. It would work. The U.S. Cavalry would be on your tail in a week. And you’d be caught in the nutcracker sure enough.”

  “Yes. Carranza would help them kill me, but still cry out against the invasion, play both ends against the middle. Once I was safely dead, he’d strike at the American forces, and then the fat would be in the fire.”

  Fargo whirled. “This O’Brien,” he snapped at the girl. “He told you all this?”

  “He sure as hell did, mister. And after he left and I ran away from his men and Villa’s people found me, I had sense enough to tell ’em they’d better bring me to the head man. I’ve traded my story to Villa here for his promise to get me back to Texas.”

  “Yeah,” Fargo said. “Yeah.” He turned on Villa. “All right, Doroteo. Who is this O’Brien?”

  “Somebody new to Carranza’s Army, it seems. But it looks like he’s muy macho, a lot of man and a hell of a soldier. A lot like you, Fargo. He started in Argentina, worked his way north, fighting in all sorts of little wars. He’s supposed to be a real expert in dirty tricks.” Then he laughed. “But you and me, hey, we’re not so bad either. Maybe we can teach him something.” He sobered. “Anyhow, there it is. Carranza plans a raid on that town in New Mexico, led by O’Brien. He’ll pin it on me, the Army comes after me, when I’m finished, Carranza hits your Army and then it’s war between Mexico and the U.S., with Germany on the Mexican side. So,” he said. “You see? You see why you’ve got to help me?”

  Before Fargo could answer, he went on. “Neal, your government has got to know the truth in time. I’ve sent word, but my people can’t get near your President. Now, it’s you or nobody.”

  Fargo said, “What makes you think I can do any better?”

  “That shotgun,” Villa said. “What’s engraved on the breech. To Neal Fargo, gratefully, from T. Roosevelt. Very well, Roosevelt’s out of power, but he’s still influential. More important, he’s your old commander, your friend, he’ll listen to you. He will, and so will somebody else. Pershing.”

  Fargo drew in a breath. “General John J. Pershing? Yeah, Black Jack and I served together on Mindanano before he got to be a General. He knows me ... ”

  “And now he’s in charge of al
l American troops along the border, stationed at El Paso, under your General Scott in San Antonio. If you can get to Pershing and Theodore Roosevelt and warn them about this Columbus raid, with this American woman to back your story up ... they’ve got to listen. And maybe we can block it all. Alert your troops before O’Brien comes—which could be any time, we don’t know exactly when—and rub him out. Clear my name with your government—”

  Fargo said harshly, “A tall order, Pancho.”

  “I know.” Villa’s voice was weary. “But I’m asking you to do it. There’s ten thousand in a special account in El Paso waiting for you to claim it. All you’ve got to do is ask. If you make El Paso, I’ll depend on you to have done all the rest you could.”

  “It’s not money,” Fargo said.

  “But money always helps,” Villa said and smiled. Once more serious: “Neal, you’ve got to leave as soon as possible, with her. Make El Paso, talk to Pershing, get hold of Roosevelt, make them see and understand ... I’ll give you everything you need, horses, guns, all of it, but the future of both our countries depends on your success. I don’t want the Americans to kill me and I don’t want to have to kill them, and I don’t want my country fighting yours.”

  Fargo went to the girl, took back the mescal bottle, drank thoughtfully. He’d played for high stakes before, but these were staggering. If the U.S. went to war with Mexico, it would give Germany a free hand in Europe, and ... And one way or the other, if Villa and the girl were right, a lot of U.S. horse soldiers would die, and Fargo was a former Yellow-leg himself.

  “All right, Doroteo,” he said finally. “I’ll do it. If we can make the railroad to Juarez—”

  “You can’t use the railroads,” Villa snapped.

  Fargo stared. Then comprehended. “Oh. Fierro.”

  “Yes, Exactly. You don’t dare be seen among my men, Fargo. You have to dodge us just as you would the Carranza soldiers. Otherwise, Fierro will see you dead before you ever reach the border.”

  “Then, God damn it, shoot him!”

  “It would do no good. It would split my Army, ruin its morale if I did that. I have just shot one general, anyhow ... ”

  “Calderon ... ”

  “Yes. I pinned the blame of Tres Acequias on you, but Calderon was the real traitor. That’s why I had him killed. Neal ... ” He was almost pleading now. “You can do it. You can go cross-country, on horseback, with her. Dodge our men and the Federales, both. Get through somehow to the States and make them understand ... ”

  “I can try,” Fargo said. “It won’t be easy.”

  “There is no other way. You will make the effort?”

  “Hell, I’ve got to,” Fargo said.

  “Then good. Today you rest. At nightfall, you pull out. It’s eight days to El Paso, and you must waste no time. Horses, guns, food, will be here at moonrise. Meanwhile, I will leave you. Colonel Mandsidor will keep watch.” He turned toward the door. “Now, I must return to headquarters. Until tonight, Adios.”

  He went out.

  When he had gone, Mandsidor said, “Colonel Fargo, don’t worry about anything. I’ll keep a sharp lookout. Now, both of you rest.” He followed Villa out the door.

  As it dosed behind him, Elizabeth Baines said, “You gonna keep all that bottle for yourself?”

  Fargo passed it over. “Watch it, Mrs. Baines. It’s powerful.”

  “Call me Liz. And I can handle it.” She took another long drink. “Jesus, I’ll be glad to see El Paso again.”

  Fargo said, “You’ve had hard luck.”

  She shrugged. “Usual with me. Hell, I’m second generation in the trade. My mama was Annie Goldtooth. In Beaumont, ran a high-class house in the oilfields.”

  “I’ve heard of her.”

  “So I grew up in the business.”

  “You seem to like it.”

  She grinned. “I won’t hand you the usual crap I give a john. Yeah, I like it. I like men and I like money. This is the best way I know to put the two together. My mistake was in fallin’ for Baines’ line. Fargo. Fargo, eh. Seemed to me I heard O’Brien speak of you, you’re supposed to be somethin’ on a stick when it comes to fightin’, the way I hear it he wants to meet you.” She drank once more, looked at him with strangely altered eyes. “How are you at lovin’?”

  Fargo said, “Listen—”

  “Pretty good, I bet. Not handsome like O’Brien or that Fierro. Fact is, you’re ugly as home-made sin. But it’s a nice kind of ugliness. Anybody ever tell you you’re so ugly you’re damned near good-lookin.”

  “People have told me a lot of crap in my time.”

  “Well, it’s the truth. You wouldn’t be hard to take at all, you know what I mean?” She moved toward him, stood close enough so that the points of her breasts just touched his chest as she looked up into his face. “We got a long trip ahead of us,” she whispered. “We might as well get to know each other better.”

  She stiffened, stepped back, and the smile vanished as her eyes flamed. “Now, wait a minute—You got a bad attack of morality comin’ on? You too good for me or something? Because you kill men for hire and I just sleep with ’em, you think that makes you better?”

  “No,” Fargo said. “We’re the same. In our own way, both whores.”

  Her face paled. “Well, then ... ”

  “Only,” he said, “I call the shots. Not you. You understand? When I’m ready for you, I’ll let you know. I’m not ready for you now.”

  “Oh, that tough-guy look’s just a front. You ain’t that much man ... ”

  Fargo fastened her eyes with his own pale gray ones. “Okay, Liz, I’m gonna tell you something, and I won’t say it but once and you get it straight. I’m takin’ you to El Paso. It’ll be a bitch of a trip, one wrong move by either of us, we wind up dead. And that is something I don’t aim to do—not on your account.”

  He grinned coldly and she went even paler. “You’re a good-looking’ woman and used to usin’ those looks to get your way. You used Baines, you used O’Brien; now you’re figuring on using me. Well, it don’t work like that. Pleasure’s one thing, business is another, and gettin’ us to El Paso is my business and damned serious business. I make the decisions, you carry out my orders and do exactly what I say. No ifs, ands, or buts. And I’ll not have the situation confused or you thinking you can get away with anything that might wind up gettin’ both of us rubbed out because you think you’ve got me to the point where I’m subject to being used.”

  “You’re afraid of me.” She forced mockery into her frightened voice.

  “No. Don’t ever get that idea. When and if I want you, I’ll holler for you; and you’d damned well better be there. But for right now, you’re just somebody I got to travel with in the least troublesome way I can figure out. There’ll be a lot less trouble if I call the shots—all of ’em.”

  “Why, you damned big—”

  “That’ll be enough of that,” Fargo said.

  She bit her lip. “Listen. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of any man that ever pulled on pants. I know too much about you. You’re all the same—those of you that ain’t queer. I can have you begging me—”

  “You can also have me slappin’ hell out of you if you give me any trouble,” Fargo said. “Or worse. Remember that. Now. I’ve had a rough twenty-four hours and there’s a rougher night ahead. I’m washing up and getting sleep. You’d better get some rest, too. Come daybreak tomorrow after a night of travelin’ my style, you’ll need it.” He went to the hut’s door. “Ignacio!”

  “Si, Don Neal!”

  “Take this woman back to where you had her hid. Watch her close. I’m gonna get some sleep.”

  “Si. She was locked up in the lean-to.” He put out a hand. “Senora...”

  Liz Baines looked at Fargo with lambent eyes. “Don’t touch me, greaser! I’ll go. But not before I have another drink.” She picked up the mescal bottle; the light fell on it and suddenly she screamed.

  “Jesus Christ, there’s a gre
at big worm in this stuff!” She dropped the bottle, gagged.

  Fargo grinned. “The cactus worm, yeah. They put it in every bottle so you’ll know it’s genuine. Still want another drink, Liz?”

  She swallowed hard. “Go to hell,” she said weakly, and followed Mandsidor out.

  Fargo picked up the bottle. Some of it had spilled, but there was plenty in it. Paying no attention to the grub floating at the bottom, he took a long drink. Then he spread out blankets in a corner of the room and, with his guns close at hand, lay down. Like an animal, almost instantly he was asleep.

  Chapter Five

  There was nothing they could do about the moon. Full at this season, it rode high an hour before midnight, flooding the vast Chihuahua desert with a silver light not much less than that of day. Villa had been worried about it. “Neal, it’ll be risky traveling.”

  “Still better than day. Only a few scouts, maybe a patrol or two abroad. And cooler. We’ll manage. Now, let’s have the latest info.”

  “It’s not much. Carranza’s men keep edging forward. My men are supposed to be patrolling day and night. You’ll have to dodge them both. Much of the territory north of here is held by my General Tomas Rinaldo. He’s a good fighter, but very much a friend of Fierro’s. He would, perhaps, take you, honor your reputation and rank, and then—a most regrettable accident would happen. Your horse would fall and break your neck, or a Carranza sniper pick you off at long range. And what could I do then? Good generals are few and far between ...”

  “All right. I understand.” Fargo paused. “Pancho, if your men come at me, I’ll have to fight them.”

  Villa said, gravely, “I expect that. Do what is needed to get through.”

  Fargo sighed. “General, I’ve fought in a lot of wars in a lot of places, but never one like this. The Revolution would have ended long ago and this country would be running like a clock if you people would only learn to trust each other—even just a little ways. But you unite and then you break apart and fight each other, and now you can’t even trust your own generals not to betray you. You’re eating each other and the country alive.”