Lookout Hill (9781101606735) (25 page)

“Out there is the first guard outpost,” he whispered. “The forward riders will slip out and kill the guard. Watch for the lantern signaling back to the Cadys when they are finished. By now the rest of the gunmen are moving forward through the gully.”

The two waited in silence, staring into the darkness below. After a tense moment they both saw a light that appeared to rise from the ground and make one single streak across the dark like a small comet, then disappear.

“Cadys’ men have just shed the first blood of Pettigo’s mercenaries,” Lupo said with a breath of relief. “One guard post down, three more to go,” he added. “Let us hope the next three will go as smoothly as this one.”

“The Cadys put some thought into this,” Sam noted, knowing that below them the two gunmen had just killed a man, maybe two, and were now slipping back across the gully floor, back out of the moonlight to the cover of the black hill line shadows below.

“As have I, Ranger,” Lupo assured him.

The two turned their horses in the dark and rode on.

When Lupo stopped again, the Ranger stopped with him. They both turned in their saddles without either of them saying a word and watched in silence until once again the streak of the lantern announced its blood success.

As soon as the glowing signal lantern made its arch, Lupo held up two gloved fingers in the darkness for the Ranger to see.

“Two down…two to go,” he said.

In the rising wind, they nudged their horses forward and rode on. But this time, Sam noted that Lupo began to lead them gradually higher up the gully wall. An hour later when they once again stopped at a point Lupo had plotted out beforehand, they waited until they saw the arch of the signal lantern for the third time.

“Three down…one to go,” Lupo said.

This time, before the Mexican agent had time to turn his horse and ride on, he saw Sam sitting atop his stallion staring squarely at him, his rifle up from his lap, pointed loosely in Lupo’s direction.

“Want to tell me why we’ve been headed up farther from the gully the past hour or so?” he said coolly.

“Ah,” said Lupo, as if to keep the conversation casual, “I knew this change in direction would not go unnoticed by you. I knew you would be asking before long.”

Sam could tell Lupo was stalling, wanting to put him off.

“I
am
asking,” Sam said bluntly, cocking the rifle, making sure Lupo heard it. “Now start answering.”

“It is not what you think, Ranger,” Lupo said. “It is not some sort of double cross.”

“Then what is it?” Sam asked, flatly.

“It is…a change of plans,” Lupo said after a moment of hesitance.

“A change in plans, this late in the game?” Sam said.

“Sí,”
Lupo said, “I’m afraid so. I knew that two men could not get inside Pettigo-American from the gully floor. It will take a force the size of the Cadys’, and even they will have a hard fight. Do you understand?”

Sam didn’t answer; he only stared.

“So I planned on us going around to a spot on the hillside that I scouted out long ago. While the Pettigos prepare to be attacked from the valley floor, we will be taking the gold and slipping out with it right under their noses.”

“While the Pettigos are preparing for an attack?” Sam said. “So far they haven’t heard a sound. They have no idea anybody’s coming.”

“I know,” said Lupo. His hand came up from his lap, holding his Big Walker Colt in the air. Sam almost shot him before he saw the gun was not meant for him. Lupo fired the gun three times, shattering the quietness of the night. “Now they do,” he added.

Even as Lupo lowered the Colt, they saw three rifle shots streak upward from the gully floor. A second passed, and then streaks of gunfire from the Cadys’ forward riders erupted in the darkness. The fight had started. Sam knew it would prove to be a long and bloody one if the Cadys were intent on robbing Pettigo-America Mining.

“Come on,” said Lupo, nudging his horse forward, “we don’t want to get hit by a stray bullet. There is still much to do tonight.”

Sam nudged Black Pot along behind him, but he kept his rifle ready as they headed farther upward away from the gully floor.

“Keep talking,” he said to Lupo. “If I don’t like what I hear, I’ll turn around and ride out. I can take up Bellibar and Siebert’s trail when the dust settles, if they’re still alive.”

“You would leave me,” said Lupo, “after agreeing to help me recover my country’s gold?”

“As far as I’m concerned, when you changed the plan without telling me, I stopped owing you a thing,” Sam said.

“Ah, but I did not change the plan, Ranger,” Lupo said. “This was my plan all along.”

“You know what I mean, Easy John,” said Sam. “Don’t mince words with me, or I’ll cut out this minute.”

“All right, Ranger,” said Lupo, “you must forgive me. In my business, trust is a hard thing to establish. I could not tell you my entire plan until I knew things were under way—until I saw I could trust you completely.”

“Or until I saw you were misleading me,” Sam added.

“Okay, this is true, Ranger,” Lupo admitted. “But what is done is done. Now we must go on with our mission.”

“Tell me about this spot you scouted out on the hillside,” Sam said. “How do we get in from there?”

“Instead of trying to breech the big iron gates that protect the front of Pettigo-American Mining,” Lupo said, “I have arranged for us to have ropes waiting for us. We will climb up and—”

“Hold it,” said Sam, cutting him off. “You’ve
arranged
? Arranged how?”

“All right…” Lupo took a breath. “I have taken one of the mercenaries into my confidence,” he said. “He will be watching for us. He will drop ropes for us. Once we are inside, everything else will go as planned.
While the Pettigos and the Cadys fight it out, we will take the wagon down the hidden tunnel back trail and disappear with it.” He paused, then said, “Are you still with me, Ranger?”

Sam looked back at the gunfire streaking back and forth along the gully floor. The fighting would grow far worse before it was over. He knew he was straying far from his job of tracking down Bellibar and Siebert. But this was where the trail had led him.

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?” he asked, still staring down at the streaks of gunfire.

“No,” said Lupo in a sincere voice, “there is nothing else. You must believe me. My intent is the same as before. I am only out to recapture my nation’s stolen gold. Anyway, I did not lie to you. I only withheld part of the truth.” He offered an apologetic smile. “You must forgive me. Sometimes I do it for good reason. Other times I do it only out of habit, eh?”

Sam considered it for a moment longer, his eyes studying the gun battle below, knowing that farther up the gully the alarm had been sounded. The men at Pettigo-American Mining would be armed and ready by now.

“No more tricks, no more
withholding the truth
, Easy John,” he warned, turning his eyes form the gully floor and facing Lupo in the grainy darkness.

“I am not keeping anything else from you, Ranger, I swear to it on my nation’s honor,” said Lupo.

Sam looked at him for a moment, and then the two turned their horses together and rode away, upward along the thin, rocky game path.

The gunfire on the gully floor had grown more intense by the time the Ranger and Lupo reached a high cliff on the left of the hilltop where Pettigo-American Mining stood. A half dozen of Pettigo’s mercenaries camped at the first guard post had ridden out to meet the attackers head-on, while higher up inside the compound the other men steadied themselves for battle.

Along the high hillside, Sam and Lupo saw the streaks of gunfire split back and forth through the night like mad fireflies. When the two stopped at a dark point on the thin path, they looked up in time to see a rope flop down against the side of the rocky face of the cliff. As they stepped down from their horses, another rope flopped down and dangled in the darkness.

“I know what you are thinking,” Lupo said. “You wonder how I knew to have two ropes waiting.”

Sam didn’t reply.

“I prepared for having someone to help me. Had I not met you along the trail, I would have recruited one
of
Capitán
Fernando Goochero’s
rurales
.” He paused, then added, “But I am glad it is you, a man I know I can depend on.”

Sam gave no response. Instead he removed his sombrero and hooked its string around his saddle horn.

“What about our animals? Will they be safe here?” he said, watching the night wind lift strands of the horses’ mane and tails.

“
Sí
, this is a good place for them,” Lupo said. “The tunnel trail comes down not far from here. When we come down, we will get our horses and tie them behind the wagon.” As he spoke, he took off his sombrero and hung it over his saddle horn. He busily rummaged among the rocks at the base of the cliff and pulled up a large canvas shoulder pack with P
ETTIGO
-A
MERICAN
stenciled on it.

The dynamite,
Sam told himself.

As if hearing the Ranger’s thoughts, Lupo hefted the pack in his hands and ginned in the darkness.

“Enough
explosivos
to close the trail behind us forever if we wanted to,” he said. He slipped his arms through the pack’s shoulder straps and adjusted it up onto his back. He started to say more, but a strange-sounding birdcall from the darkness above them stopped him.

They both looked up two hundred feet where the blackness met the purple moonlight along the jagged upper edge of the cliff. A silhouette figure waved an arm back and forth at them.

“It is my inside man,” Lupo said. He grabbed one of
the ropes and shook it hard in response to the man above them.

Sam looked down at his rifle in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Ranger,” said Lupo. “I have rifles and ammunition waiting for us up there.”

Sam stepped over and shoved his rifle down into his saddle boot. He looped Black Pot’s reins around a spur of rock and ran a hand down the stallion’s side.

“I’ll be back for you,” he said under his breath. Then he turned to Lupo, who stood with rope in hand.

“Ready?” Lupo said.

Taking the rope dangling next to him, Sam said, “Let’s go.”

The two began their climb upward, hand over hand, each step searching for a toehold in the darkness. Off to their right on the gully floor, gunfire exploded as the Cadys’ gunmen pushed hard through the rock and brush toward the heavy iron gates protecting the mining company. While the battle raged, wind gusted and swirled and tugged at the Ranger and Lupo as if to remind them that they had entered a place where no men should be, there in the dark, clinging by rope to an unyielding terrain otherwise reserved for bats, nighthawks and lesser creatures of the night.

But as the gun battle continued, the two slowly, gradually forced themselves upward against heavy gravity to the cliff’s edge and in turn fell over onto the ground. Being the first to reach the top, the Ranger scooted around quickly on his stomach, reached over the edge, grabbed Lupo by his shoulder pack and pulled him up.

“
Gracias,
” Lupo gasped, throwing the pack straps off his shoulders and lying collapsed beside the cumbersome load.

“Who the hell is this?” someone standing above them demanded from Lupo.

Sam looked up the grainy moonlight and made out a silhouette pointing a rifle in his direction. But before Sam could even reply, Lupo reached out and shoved the rifle barrel away.

“It’s none of your concern, Foley,” Lupo growled. “He’s with me. That is all you need to know.”

“You’re right, hombre,” the man said. “It’s none of my concern. I don’t give a damn who he is, so long as you brought me the money you promised.”

Lupo produced a leather pouch from inside his shirt and shook it. The muffled sound of large gold coins caused the gunman to smile in the darkness.

“Ah, that sounds sweeter than a maiden’s whisper,” the gunman said, reaching out for the pouch.

But Lupo pulled it back.

“Not so fast, my greedy amigo,” he said. “Where are the rifles and the ammunition you promised?”

“Got them right here,” the man said. “Winchester repeaters, fully loaded—bandoliers of ammunition in case you accidently left something standing.” He gestured toward a bundle on the ground as he stepped over to it. Sam and Lupo followed close beside him.

“Check it out,” Lupo said, picking up a rifle and handing it to the Ranger.

Sam levered a round into the rifle chamber and
hefted the gun, judging by the weight that it was fully loaded.

“This one’s good,” he said.

“Yes, sir, good as gold,” said the gunman. He looked at Lupo and threw back a canvas cover on the ground. “Look what a few more gold coins can buy for you.”

Lupo and the Ranger looked down in the pale moonlight at a row of French hand grenades. Lupo picked one up and turned in his hand.

“If I do not buy these, what will you do with them?” Lupo asked. Sam listened, knowing it to be a strategic question.

The gunman shrugged and said, “Then I’ll have to slip them back into the arsenal shed before I leave.”