“You won’t be getting out of here, either of you,” said Deke. “It doesn’t matter how the girl feels about you, Long, you’ll still die. I figure as soon as the boss gets here, he’ll give us the go-ahead to get rid of you. We’ve got some boys riding with us who’re part Yaqui. They’ll have a fine time working you over with their knives, and then we’ll throw your bodies in a gully at the far end of the valley. The coyotes and the zopilotes will have a good time too.” Longarm tried not to think about coyotes and buzzards and other scavengers. He tugged Coffin over to the rear wall of the smokehouse. The big Ranger went reluctantly. Longarm knew he was making an effort not to lose his temper.
The door slammed shut. Deke snapped the padlock back on the hasp and laughed again, the sound fading as he walked away from the smokehouse. Longarm let go of Coffin’s arm and asked, “What did they do to you in there?”
“Just knocked me around a mite,” replied Coffin. Longarm could see bruises starting to form on the Ranger’s face, and a small cut over Coffin’s left eye oozed blood. “It didn’t amount to much. I been hit a lot harder in friendly fights. Hell, you walloped me better’n this when we were tusslin’ over Anna Marie back in Del Rio.”
The mention of Anna Marie made Longarm think of the fiery redhead. She was a whore who worked in a border-town saloon, while Sonia Guiterrez had all the advantages of wealth and breeding and a father who was in a position of power. Yet there was no question in Longarm’s mind which of the women was more respectable.
“We got to start thinkin’ of some way to get out of here,” Coffin went on. “I’d still like to take that gal back to Del Rio, just so’s I could dump her at her pa’s feet and tell him just how low-down she really is. Or you reckon he knows already?”
Longarm thought about the things Capitan Hernandez of the federales had told him about Sonia. “No, Don Alfredo doesn’t know,” he said. “He won’t allow himself to know. I reckon that’s the only way he can handle it.”
“Well, I might feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch—if it hadn’t been him who sent us down here and got us into this mess in the first place.”
“Can’t blame the man for being worried about his daughter,” Longarm pointed out. “Remember, we thought she’d been kidnapped by El Aguila too.”
A short bark of laughter escaped from the Ranger. “You reckon wherever the real El Aguila is, he knows that this bunch has been usin’ his name?”
“No telling,” said Longarm with a shake of his head. “But if I was him, I wouldn’t be too happy about it.”
With a sigh, Coffin sat down on the dirt floor and leaned against the log wall. “Well, I reckon now we wait some more ... unless you’ve got some ideas about how we might get out of here.”
“Not yet,” said Longarm. “Besides, I’m sort of interested in finding out just who the real boss of this setup is.”“You mean we ought to wait until he shows up ‘fore we make our move?”
“The thought occurred to me,” admitted Longarm.
“I hope you’re right, Long. We best get out of here mighty quick-like after that, though, or else we’ll wind up with some o’ them Yaqui halfbreeds peelin’ our skin off in inch-wide strips.”
The hours passed as slowly as any Longarm could remember. None of the outlaws brought food or water to them at midday, and by late afternoon Longarm’s stomach was rumbling loudly from emptiness and his mouth was dry and parched. The heat in the smokehouse wrapped around him like a living thing and made him gasp for breath. Coffin was just as uncomfortable, but while the federal lawman suffered in silence, the Ranger gave vent to his spleen in a never-ending stream of muttered curses. Longarm got used to the sound, and actually fell asleep to it.
He woke up abruptly only a few minutes later when Coffin said sharply, “There’s somebody comin’, Long.”
Longarm sat up. He heard the footsteps approaching the smokehouse too, and a moment after they stopped right outside the door, a key rattled in the lock. The door was pulled open, and as usual, Longarm and Coffin were left squinting and blinking against the glare.
“Come on out of there,” ordered Deke, and even though they couldn’t see him very well against the brightness of the sunshine, the tone of his voice made it clear that he was holding a gun on them.
Longarm stood up and stepped out of the smokehouse, followed by Coffin. Longarm’s eyes were adjusting to the light by now, and he saw Deke standing several feet away, six-gun leveled just as Longarm had expected. Four more of the outlaws accompanied the man.
“Time to go inside,” Deke said. “Somebody wants to see you boys.”
Longarm didn’t like the tone of amusement in Deke’s voice. If the outlaw was that happy about something, it couldn’t bode very well for the two prisoners. As they started walking toward the house, with a couple of the men flanking them and Deke and the other guards following closely behind, Longarm said, “The boss must be here.”
“Must be,” said Deke, still sounding cheerful.
Longarm and Coffin exchanged a wary glance. They hadn’t been able to work out a suitable escape plan, but the meaning in each man’s eyes was clear: They had run out of time, and if either of them saw even the slightest opportunity for escape, they should seize it without hesitation.
They were taken in through the rear door of the house, then escorted down the same corridor by which they had left it. Their destination was obviously the same large comfortably furnished room in which they had first confronted Deke and Sonia.
Sonia was in that room now, Longarm saw as the door was opened and he and Coffin were prodded through it. She stood next to the fireplace, wearing another expensive gown that hugged her lush figure and showed off its appeal. A man in a dark gray suit was standing beside her, his back to the newcomers.
Longarm recognized the man anyway. He should have been shocked, he supposed, but he really wasn’t.
“Here they are,” Deke said, and Franklin Barton turned from where he stood beside Sonia to smile arrogantly at Longarm and Coffin.“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Coffin. “It’s that diplomat fella!”
“Indeed it is,” said Barton smoothly. “I’m glad you remember me, Mr.
Coffin.”
“It’s only been a few days, Barton,” Longarm said. “I reckon it’d take longer than that for us to forget a skunk like you.”
For a moment, Barton’s eyes turned hard and cold and his jaw tightened. Then he relaxed and gave a dry chuckle. “Well, we can certainly all see that you’re not a diplomat, Marshal Long.”
“Never claimed to be. I’m just a fella who tries to do his job.”
“So am I.” Barton waved a hand, the gesture encompassing the room as well as Sonia and Deke. “And my real job is here.”
“You mean you’re the one who’s ramroddin’ this gang?” asked Coffin, his expression a mixture of anger and amazement.
“Indeed I am.”
“But ... why?” This time puzzlement won out on Coffin’s bearded face.
Barton reached over to Sonia, taking her hand and lifting it momentarily to his lips before he turned back to the captive lawmen. “Isn’t it obvious? What man wouldn’t betray even those closest to him for a beautiful creature such as this?”
“The two of you met in Arizona last year, didn’t you?” guessed Longarm. “You were with the Vice-President, Barton, and Sonia was with her father.”
“You are a smart man, Custis,” said Sonia. “You have figured it all out, no?”
“Maybe not all of it,” Longarm said slowly, “but I reckon I’m on the right trail.”“Barton smirked at him. “Then why don’t you tell us all about it?”