The Reinvention Of Rudd Carter. A Western Action Adventure Novel (18 page)

That evening at El Coyote, Juan played cards with three Mexican ranch hands as Rudd and his men came in and bellied up to the bar.

Standing next to Rudd was a man almost identical in build and coloring. Loud and boisterous, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Rudd turned and gave Juan the eye, patted Günter on the back, and nodded his head.

At precisely nine o’clock, Günter shook hands with everyone and walked out into the night. Juan waited a few seconds and then followed.

The next morning, Rudd walked into the police station a few minutes after eight. Fuentes looked depressed. “I’ve got some disappointing news. I just got a call from Juan, and he said that he followed Günter for a couple of blocks last night before he disappeared. He said he’s not happy with himself for losing him. He wants to try again tonight. But, he doesn’t want to sit inside. He’s afraid Günter will remember him from last night. Now that he knows what he looks like, he wants to start following him up outside when he leaves the bar.”

That night Juan positioned himself across the street from El Coyote. At nine, Günter came out into the street, turned south and walked at a relaxed pace for several blocks. Juan followed in the shadows a half block behind. When the crowds began to thin out and the street wasn’t so well lit, Günter picked up the pace and began to walk faster.

Determined not to lose him, Juan stayed with him for three more blocks until Günter entered a dark section of the street and vanished. Juan panicked and broke into a run. Entering the dark area where Günter disappeared, he was knocked to the sidewalk by a powerful blow. The last thing he heard was the ring of a blade being extracted from its scabbard and his assailant saying, “Aren’t you glad you followed me tonight?” Then the knife sliced through his jugular and the world went dark.

Early the next morning the phone rang, awakening Rudd and Kathryn. Rudd answered to Fuentes’ frantic voice. “He’s been murdered. He’s dead. His throat’s been cut. We’ve got to get that son of a bitch and string him up.”

“Ernie, is that you? What’s happened? Whose throat’s been cut?”

“He’s dead. Murdered.”

“Calm down Ernie, calm down. Tell me, who’s been murdered?”

“My cousin, Juan,” he sobbed. “His throat was slit. He was found thirty minutes ago.”

Rudd welled up for a second, but quickly regained control. “I’ll be at the station in twenty minutes.”

Hanging up, he turned to Kathryn. “There’s an emergency, sweetheart. I have to go to the police station. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Please understand.”

“Who has been murdered?”

“I have to get over to the police station. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,” he repeated and rushed out.

Twenty minutes later Rudd walked into the police station to find a distraught Ernie Fuentes.

Fuentes’ drawn face spoke volumes. “I know Juan was your cousin and best friend. This must be really hard,” Rudd said.

Ernie looked down at his desk and remained silent.

Rudd studied him for a moment. “I have to take a look at Juan’s body,” he said softly. “Will you go over to the morgue with me?”

Ernie looked up. “Rudd, what I want to do is put out a warrant for that bastard’s arrest. But I’m afraid if he’s back there in a cell, I’ll go and shoot him myself.”

Rudd reached out and lightly touched him on the shoulder. “Please try and calm yourself, my friend. We’ll get this son of a bitch by using our heads and not by flying off the handle and doing something rash and stupid. I have to see the body. The wound will tell me a lot. It will tell me if Günter is our man for sure. I’m pretty sure he is. When I’m absolutely sure, I’ll tell you my plan.”

They went to the morgue. Rudd examined the wound and bruises on Juan’s body while Ernie waited in the lobby.

When he came out of the autopsy room, he put his arm around Ernie’s shoulders and said, “It was Günter. He’s our man.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Because Günter has a particular style. I’ve seen him execute people. He slits their throat, watches them strangle on their own blood for a few seconds, and then he plunges his knife through their heart.” Ernie began to rile up and Rudd said, “I know how you feel. I feel the same way. But we have nothing on him. If we kill him now, we’ll stand trial for murder. That’s not what we want.” Glancing down the street, he said, “Let’s go get a beer, and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.”

They walked to a little beer joint and found a secluded table in a corner where they could talk privately. Rudd ordered two beers.

Ernie looked at Rudd long and hard. “What in the hell were you doing at the time you saw Günter execute people? What were you guys involved in?”

“About thirty years ago, Günter and I were part of a covert military group that had been organized by the British government to help control the pirates in Southeast Asia. They were a mean lot to deal with. We had to be twice as mean to get our point across. We all slit our share of throats. Günter just happened to enjoy it a hell of a lot more than the rest of us.”

Fuentes’ eyes narrowed into slits as he asked, “Couldn’t you tell something was wrong with him by the way he acted? Why didn’t you get rid of him?”

“I know it’s hard to understand, but he is the best at what we do. There is no one I would rather have at my side in combat than Günter. We’re mercenaries. We don’t operate inside the law. People invite us in when they need a problem solved and solved fast. You saw him that night on the street when those six idiots jumped us. We put the first three down on the street in the first charge. When the second three pulled out their knives and rushed us, I heard Günter laugh, and I saw his face light up like he was having the time of his life. He had a legal license to kill. Nothing could have made him happier at that moment than to force that man’s knife through his own throat. The look on his face was pure Günter, doing what he loves to do best.” Rudd watched Fuentes sitting quietly. “Are you alright, Ernie?” he asked softly.

“So, we have a psychopathic killer who has murdered, raped and mutilated two little girls and brutally killed my cousin—all of this in my jurisdiction. Yet we don’t have any evidence to arrest him, and we can’t kill him. What’s your plan?” he asked, raising his voice. “I really want to hear it, Rudd.”

Gazing into the depths of his eyes, he said, “Ernie, listen to me very carefully. I know you’re upset and so am I, but we can’t kill him. He knows that someone is onto him. So he is probably going to lie low now that the heat is on. In less than thirty days, the battle out in the desert is going to take place with Günter right in the middle of it. You don’t have to kill him. I don’t have to kill him. But who’s to know what can happen during a battle in the middle of the desert? That’s all I’m going to say on the subject. I promise you that this will be resolved to the satisfaction of us both.” In a more somber tone, he continued, “I’m very sorry this happened to your cousin. I know that the two of you were close and that you will miss him.” He cleared his throat, waited a beat, and said, “Give me a call if anything new arises. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll look in on you in three or four days.”

“But what if he kills another little girl?” Fuentes asked angrily.

“Now that he knows we’re onto him, I don’t think he will.”

“What if you’re wrong?’

Rudd’s face twisted into a grim mask. “Then I’ll kill him myself.”

Three Weeks Before The Battle

Ben called for a meeting at El Coyote to be certain that everything was going according to schedule. Arriving first, he was just beginning his cigar-lighting ritual when the others came into the bar. It was early in the afternoon and El Coyote was empty, typical for this time of year in Mexicali. Most of the residents of the Mexicali/Imperial Valley area who could afford to do so took off for San Diego or anywhere cooler at the beginning of June. There was a strong possibility that when the residents returned in the fall, they would be returning to a different country… if Ben and his partners had their way.

The men shook hands and took a seat. They sat in a state of amused patience as Ben struck a match on the underside of the table four or five times in an unsuccessful attempt to start a flame. He swore under his breath with each swipe of the match that didn’t light. When at last the match burst into flame, he let out a “Heh, heh,” of delight and lit his cigar.

Taking a long drag, he slowly exhaled as his gaze raked over the group. “I thought it would be a good idea to get together for an update on the progress we’re making in preparation for our venture,” he said, scratching his ear. “I want to hear from each of you what you think needs to be done to finalize our preparations so that we don’t make any mistakes out there in the desert. Bill, let’s hear from you. What do you think?”

Looking relaxed and pleased, Crawford said, “Ben, I’ve been watching the training sessions everyday from the beginning, and I’m here to tell you that these boys are ready for anything.” He looked over at Rudd. “You sure picked the right people. These fellas took to those new automatic and semi-automatic weapons like they had been using them all their lives.”

Rudd nodded.

Ben turned to Hoff. “What about you, Don. Anything to offer?”

Hoff nodded. “Like I promised, one hundred thousand dollars American was deposited in the El Centro National Bank last week. A few days before Desert Revolt, a post-dated check will be issued to Rudd payable July twenty-first.”

Ben nodded and smiled. “Anything else, Don?”

“No. I think Rudd should have the floor. He knows better than any of us what it’s going to take to get this show on the road.”

The men looked at him.

“You’re on, Rudd. Let’s hear it,” Ben said.

“I agree,” Rudd said, nodding. “These fifty men will never be better armed or prepared for an operation like this. But I do need a few more things. I need three flat rail cars and a locomotive to get the men and equipment out to the battle site.”

“I’ll look into it this afternoon.” Ben looked satisfied. “What else?”

“I’ll need a man who knows what he’s doing to climb a pole out there and clip the telegraph and telephone wires coming from the rest of Mexico so that the Mexican Government will think that Mexicali has been taken by rebels and communication has been cut. We’ll restore telegraph and telephone service when we announce the existence of the new state of Baja Del Norte and the new Presidente.” Rudd paused for a moment, cast a look at Ben and his two partners, and asked, “By the way, who’s the new Presidente going to be? No one’s ever said.”

“Why, Pancho Villa, of course,” Ben said confidently.

“Pancho Villa!” Rudd exclaimed. “That murderous son-of-a-bitch. Jesus Christ.” He shook his head in disgust. “In six months he’ll be planning the invasion of San Diego.” Pulling his face into a deep scowl, he cried out, “Why Villa, of all people?” And then in a sarcastic tone, “This will make for a smooth transition for Baja Del Norte into an independent nation.”

Ben puffed on his cigar and turned his attention to the ceiling fans spinning above. “I understand your concern,” he said cautiously. “But remember, if there was a popular election in Mexico today, Pancho Villa would become the next president.”

Visibly stunned, Rudd sucked a deep breath through clenched teeth and shot a furtive glance at Ben.
I finally get it. July twentieth is the beginning of the next phase of the Mexican Revolution with the final result being the installation of Francisco Villa as El Presidente of Mexico. I was right when I said you wanted me to fire the first shots of the next phase of the Mexican Revolution. Why didn’t I see this coming? Because I wasn’t told about Pancho Villa until now. Very slick. This has been the plan the whole time. Unscrupulous describes your whole being, Ben Mosier. Well, I’ve got a couple of moves, myself. The game isn’t over yet.

Pulling himself together, he forced a smile. “Whatever, whomever. That’s your department. You didn’t hire me to make political comments. You hired me to make Desert Revolt work for you, and I shall.” In a more serious tone he continued, “I’d like to leave for the battle site with everyone on the train, July seventeenth. I figure it will take less than three hours to get there and we’ll have two and a half days to dig in and get prepared for our little skirmish in the sand. Of course, we don’t want to load the flat cars with military weapons in full view of everyone in Mexicali, so I think we should agree on a spot a few miles outside of town. Don, I’ll bet you and Bill know of a place to load up, like a stockyard loading dock right on the tracks several miles out of town.”

“In fact, there is a place just like you describe about six or seven miles east of town,” said Crawford. “It’s got a water tower, a loading dock, and there is nobody around for miles.”

In control of himself again, Rudd nodded. “Good. Are the roads decent enough to be able to get some trucks to it that are loaded down with men and equipment?”

“There shouldn’t be a problem. The roads are all dirt and can get muddy during the rainy season, but this is July. Our biggest problem will be dealing with the dust,” answered Crawford.

Rudd thought for a second or two. “We’ve got some of the men living at the ranches and some in town. The last week, Don, I’d like to have all the men residing at your ranch. Can you bunk and feed fifty men for a week out at your place?”

Hoff nodded. “I can make that work for you.”

Feigning his very best look of contentment, Rudd turned to Ben. “We’re going to need a lot of water since we’ll be out in that desert for three days. I’ll also need about six eight-man tents and enough canvas to create some shade, as well as a couple of good cooks, provisions such as meat, beans, rice, tortillas, coffee, and of course, enough beer and whiskey for three nights. I’ll get back to you in a couple of days with the exact amount of each item. Unless someone has something else to add or ask, I think we’re just about ready for Desert Revolt. Ben, the floor is all yours.”

Ben sat thoughtfully puffing on his cigar then fixed a long look on Rudd and asked quietly, “Are you sure you’re all right with this Pancho Villa business?”