Setting: Old West
Rating: PF — Profanity and AC — Adult Content
This is the second story set in the Hope Ranch AU (the first is A Shining Place Called Hope) Winnie, dear, I hope you salivate...
IMPORTANT AUTHOR"S NOTE: This was written in a bit of a hurry for a specific reason, no time for beta work or many edits, so read with kind eyes!.
Harry looked up when a wealthy stranger rode into town. The clothes were tailored made and expensive, right down to the gold watch that the man used when he drew closer. There was a scattering of white through a chestnut head and the mustache was well groomed. He saw dollar signs and approached.
"Evein' sir, welcome to Suratrat. Whatever your pleasure is, we can provide a service. The finest women, casinos and wine. Food that rivals anything west of New Orleans."
Ezra had to do a quick change mentally. He didn't want to take the chance that the man before him or those connected to him was from New Orleans, where his alter ego was from. So he switched gears to Savannah, a place he knew well.
"Harry Simmons at your service."
Ezra nodded at the English accent and eyed the street slowly. A great deal of money had been spent to keep this place looking so fine. He didn't miss that the other customers were well dressed. He climbed down from his rented horse and handed the reins to a young boy about fourteen.
"The lad'll care for your horse. What's your pleasure?"
"Well," Ezra poured on the southern accent and dusted off his coat. "I am happy to see that my late friend was not lyin'."
"Your late friend, sir?"
"Never did get his name, there was a slight dispute over a matter of the queen of hearts. Another gentlemen, and I use that term lightly, proposed rather vocally that I had cheated. I was offended and relayed that to him, he fired his weapon and the poor man next to me suffered the consequences."
"Yessir," Harry was confused. "And how did that lead you here, sir?"
"Shortly before his untimely demise, he mentioned a haven for gambling, wine and women in the middle of this infernal terrain. I scoffed at him but he was true to his word."
"Right this way sir, I'm sure you could use a drink."
Ezra was amazed at the casino when he entered. He was impressed with the labor that Gilbert went to in putting this place together. The bar was the finest mahogny with brass trim, the mirrors were quality as were the chandeliers overhead. The gambling tables were handdone and the rugs under his boots were Persian. He wondered at the amount of money being drawn in by the house. There were over a dozen tables and all were crowded.
"Trente et Quarente," he murmured, his fingers tingling. The French card game was played at a special table with two croupiers and six decks of cards. It required much skill and a lot of gold to gain entry. He'd never seen it done other than in New Orleans. "It has been awhile."
Harry Simmons watched the newcomer and was impressed by this charm, manner and money . He was very good, quickly drawing in a sizable amount of gold. Twice Simmons went over to refill his bourbon. Finally the man nodded, rose and took his winnings.
"I am famished," Ezra announced, "Perhaps you could show me to your dining establishment?"
"Right this way sir, the very best, you'll see."
Again it was Ezra's turn to be amazed. His face didn't show it, but he was taken aback by the quality of the dining tent. Two lovely Asian girls with exotic garb, which left most of their 'appeal' showing entertained him while he ate. The Englishman appeared again as he was finishing up his creme brulee.
"Excellent," Ezra noted, nodding to the young girl who took the dish away. He sipped on dark Italian coffee as Simmons joined him
"I take it, sir, you are enjoying your stay?"
"Quite," Ezra agreed. "An establishment like this requires a great deal of expertise and I compliment you."
"Oh, it's not mine, sir, I just work for Copper... Mister Gilbert." Harry paused, eyeing the diamond ring on the left hand and the ruby on the right. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, what is your business?"
"Silver, gold and ore," Ezra toasted. "I have mines in California and Mexico. Unfortunately, business in my Mexican mines has slowed due to lack of labor. I hate to travel there, large parts of the country are uncivilized."
"Yes, sir, so I've heard," Harry answered.
"I am currently on a mission of sorts to try enhance those numbers, but it's difficult." He lifted the glass and stared at the other man. "If you know what I mean..."
Harry's mouth went dry and he knew instantly that this man had some knowledge of what occured after dark. Rolling him would be fruitless, he had much more money to be had. He'd speak to Copper, maybe this man would invest.
"Sir? If you'd excuse me a moment."
"Certainly," Ezra replied, hoping the bait held firm.
He didn't miss the middleaged blond woman who'd been listening. He saw her reflection in the mirror. By her age and the way she spoke with the other girls and some of the male help, she had a position of rank. Perhaps if Gilbert didn't go for the bait, he'd net another fish.
Copper listened as Harry spoke and watched the newcomer through the special glass mirror. It cost him a lot of money but it's gilded design hid a viewing area. He could see them but they couldn't see him. He spent close to an hour thinking and mulling over the thought. A partner was risky but then again, if this man had the kind of money that was evident, it would double his holdings. He needed more time to investigate the man.
Ezra looked up when a tuxedo went by. He knew when he looked at the man's face he was Gilbert. He got a clear sense of someone without any conscience at all. He nodded and the other man joined him. A serving girl brought them a bottle of French Cognac.
"To you health, sir," Ezra toasted, taking a sip. "Delightful. It's rare, along with everything else here. You sir, are to be complimented."
"Thank you, Mister?"
"Etienne Auberge of Savannah." Standish lied deftly. He'd created the identity so many years ago and used is so often it was easy.
"Long way from home," Gilbert noted, not missing the quality of the clothing and jewelry.
"My father invested well and made his fortune before he turned forty. I was brought up on a silver spoon. However, the war between the states took a toll and I decided it was time to broaden the horizons a bit. I read about the mining industry and ventured into it about five years ago." He paused to toast his success. "I've never looked back."
"Harry tells me you have mines in Mexico?"
"Two but in the last oh... eighteen months or so they've slipped a bit. Labor is hard to come by, either the climate or other factors takes a toll." He studied the other face carefully. "I'm sure you understand."
"More than you know," Copper agreed. "It was a pleasure speaking with you Mister Auberge. Good luck with your problem. I hope we'll speak again the next time you pass through."
Ezra's heart sank but his face didn't show it. He continued to sip on the brandy well after Gilbert left. He was thinking on a way to force Gilbert to leave with him, when the blond sauntered past. She looked even older close up and time had not been kind. She was too thick in the middle for the tight dress and her sagging bustline was offensive. She did, however, slip a folded paper under his hand when she bent to refill his drink.
"Thank you," Ezra said, covering the paper.
He wasn't sure what to make of the note, or if it was a trap. But it was a chance he'd have to take. If he didn't return by midnight, Vin and the others would know to come into town. The back road was covered, so they wouldn't be able to take him away. He rose and made his way toward the door. Just before reaching it, his eyes caught the name of the town written in gold script in the mirror. But it was the reflection and the letters were backwards. He read the name and paled, his heart sinking.
If there was a worse way to feel and still be alive Chris Larabee didn't know about it. He had no sense of time or place, only grueling pain. From his head down , there wasn't an inch of him not screaming. The foul taste in his mouth told him he'd already thrown up but he couldn't remember. It was dark and he was cold, he was freezing. He tried to sit up but a firm hand lifted him, nudging his lips.
"Drink and spit."
A man's voice, a young man's voice. He knew that voice. He trusted that voice and did as told. Twice more the voice repeated and he finally rid his mouth of the bitter taste. He was rewarded with a drink of water and nothing ever tasted so sweet. Finally, he blinked, forcing his eyes open and looking around . Still wheezing heavily and that was difficult, he moved his head to see where he was.
His fingers roamed sand and rock, telling him he was outside. The dark sky held no stars only a huge silver moon. It was unnaturally large and bathing him and the other man in silver light . His head was pounded so hard he felt sure part of it was missing. He moved his fingers and found a crude bandage wrapped around his head.
"No... leave it be..."
He blinked and saw a face in the darkness. A steady hand on his chest, someone with a low voice tending to him. One name came to mind and he whispered it as if in prayer. He wasn't lost anymore.
"Vin... thank... God..."
"No, Chris, sorry," Greg apologized, watching the wounded man's puzzled face.
Chris was confused again. He eyed the terrain and although it was dark the moonlight was bright and he recognized desert landscape. What was he doing in the desert ? He felt the harsh clothing and it resembled a uniform. Who was the man tending him? He looked closer and saw a young face, twenty five perhaps with dark hair and eyes.
"It's Greg," he answered the perplexed face. "Just take it easy, you got winged in the head. You're lucky."
"Winged?" Chris croaked, at least that answered his nagging pain and sick stomach questions. "Greg... I don't... who..."
"From the mine... we're in Mexico... we were kidnapped from a tent city over the border..."
Chris sighed, rested his head back against some kind of folded up cloth and let the words run around his head. Other images sprang up a sinister woman's face and a hot needle, pain rupturing his veins, a evil warden, a whip and more pain. A mine, grueling work and beatings. All the images collided in his throbbing skull.
"Sick, fuckin' bastard... Santiago..."
"They used us for a blood hunt, let us go early this morning. We found an oasis and waited for the guards to come, to get the horses. "
"The guards came?" Chris coughed, clutching his side. He couldn't remember that part. He looked around and didn't see them. "Where... what... did..."
"They're dead, I buried them under some sand and rocks. I passed out for awhile... then I found one horse. The other got away. You jumped from a high spot and he fired, wounded you. I got lucky, I hit the other guy and his gun went off, he killed his own man. I threw sand in his face like you said and grabbed the knife, slit his throat. I took their clothes and boots, weapons, food, anything the horse would hold. They won't come looking in the dark but we need to move out when the light first hits."
"Yeah... head back... try... to get... north... of prison... to... border..." Chris cried out as his body was forced to rise. "...let's get... the... hell... outta... here."
Ezra had his peashooter ready in case of trouble, but he sensed somehow he was not being followed. He made his way to the end of town, finding the livery easily. He paused outside, lighting a cigar and sitting on a bench. His eyes roamed the streets, taking in the customers but not a sign of Simmons or Gilbert. He got up casually and slipped behind the building. Then he saw the small path that led around the back of the livery. He didn't stop until he was well outside of the tent city perimeter. He noted that this was the side Vin identified as the hidden path which led the prisoners away. He heard a famliar bird call and sighed, realizing Vin was close by.
"That's far enough."
"As you wish, Madame." He paused and she stepped out of the shadows.
"I can help you," Delilah said. She knew how rich he was and if he needed some men provided, she had the know how. They could set up somewhere else in a border town. She had connections in Mexico as well, Gilbert taught her too well.
"Out of the kindness of your heart," Ezra drolled.
"And your wallet. Look, Mister, we can help each other here. I know you need strong young men and I can get them for you."
"By your wiles alone?" He hinted with a tinge of sarcasm.
"Of course not!" She snapped. " I've been working with Gilbert since he put up his first tent. I know the system, the route, the guards from the Mexican mine and Santiago, the sick bastard who runs it. I know how to find the pawns, weed them out and set them up. It's only a couple hours to the border. I can get you guards who will escort them to wherever you need. Is your mine far?"
"No, less than an hour from the border." He narrowed his eyes, "And they remain compliant for the duration?"
"The first drug is in the booze, we strip them, roll them, tie them up and Copper inspects them. Sometimes they fight back, he doesn't like that. There's a pressure washer we use on them to clean them, then change them into the prison clothes and then I inject them. It's good stuff, burns like hell and keeps them out for several hours. They're too sick and dopey to fight when they arrive."
"And why should I trust you?"
"Because I can see you know people, how to read them. All good gamblers have that gift. You wouldn't be standing here if you didn't."
"Touch&eacut;," Standish acknowledged. "What exactly is in this for you?"
"Money, enough for me to retire soon. I'm tired of hiding out in this place. I haven't been to a real city in... well too long. I have friends in California and with the right amount of money, I can partner in on a place there on the Barbary Coast."
"Fitting," he agreed. "Very well. Let's assume you are successful. Why would your employer allow you to leave?"
"I was sick a couple months ago, he brought a doctor in. I was already thinking on leaving and I paid that quack a lot of cash to tell Copper I have a bad heart. So I can relapse at any time. He'll let me go, he's already grooming a girl to take my place, I've seen him."
"So you are proposing we form a simliar establishment near the border? You can handle these 'volunteers' on your own?"
"I have," she pressed, "Just a few days ago we caught prime beef. A lean blond with a lot of fight. But I took care of him, I made sure he knew who was in charge and I watched him screaming until he went limp."
"Evenin'," Vin drawled, moving out of the darkness and just behind her. "Thought I smelt somethin' putrid."
"What's going on here?" She spun around but found her arms pinned behind her. "Who the hell are you?"
"Yer worst nightmare ya twisted bitch," Vin growled, tying her arms behind her back and shoving her on the ground against a log. He knelt over her, unsheathing his large knife. "Ya see, I ain't heartless like ya'll. I'm givin' a chance t'spill yer guts. "
"You set me up!" She hissed at the southerner, who was peeling off his mustache.
"With pleasure," Standish replied, "I'm afraid my friend is a bit on the wooly side and doesn't house the patience that I do. So you would be well advised to answer him truthfully and in short order."
"And if I don't?" Her words and voice dripped with foolish arrogance.
Vin slipped the knife under the spanning fabric between her breasts and snapped it, splitting the fabric and exposing the flabby area around her corseted bosom. He poised the knife under the corset, pressing the metal against her skin.
"OW!" She yelped, her heart beating wildly. "You wouldn't cut a woman!"
"Ya got that part right," Vin snapped, glaring hard at her. "But I don't see one. Ya fucked with the wrong person when ya tortured Chris Larabee." Her face blanched of the little color that was left. She didn't have to say it, her frantic eyes screamed it. "I wanna know where ya took him."
"I can't, Santiango and Copper will kill me."
"Ya better loosen that tongue o'yers or by the time I'm done with ya, ya'll wish they did."
"Go to hell!" She dared by the intense blue eyes never wavered and the corset was split along with some skin. "I'll scream... they'll hear me..." she panted and his hand gripped her throat cutting off the air. The intense pressure caused her eyes to buldge, she got dizzy and went limp. When her mouth opened, he shoved a rag it and dragged her to her feet. He hauled her over his shoulder and moved into the dark thicket of trees.
Ezra started to follow and was cut off. Vin turned around and nodded in the other direction. "Go git Buck and the others."
There wasn't many times in his life that Ezra P. Standish was at a loss for words or this shaken. He'd never seen Vin as volatile as this and was worried about what he might do if left alone with woman.
"Ya deaf?" Vin growled, "Git goin'! I don't need an audience and yer weak stomach pukin' all over when I peel 'er."
"Peel?" Ezra squeaked. "Just exactly what on earth..." But that quickly Vin was gone, his long strides taking him into the trees. Ezra thought to follow and decided to find Buck. If anyone might get through to Vin, it would be him.
Vin didn't stop until he felt they were a good distance from the tent city but still on the main path to Mexico. He dumped her hard on the ground against a boulder. He had already prepared the wood for a fire and lit it. She moaned a little, moving a bit and starting to rouse . He yanked the gag out and slapped her hard.
"You're an animal..." she gasped, more than a bit scared by the bloodlust shining from his eyes.
"Yer a fine one t'talk," Vin replied, yanking her hair back until he could see her frantic eyes. "Don't piss me off, I'm good at this and I can make it last fer hours. "
"...what..."
"Yer gonna tell me everythin' that happened t'Chris from the time he rode in t'when ya dumped in on that wagon."
"...and if I don't..."
"I'll peel ya." Vin yanked her stocking down and exposed her fleshy calf.
"What do you... what..." she couldn't believe she'd heard him right. She jumped and cried out when his knife moved, taking skin off like a carrot peel . "My God... oh God... you are a savage..."
"Wrong answer," Vin grunted. He saw her eyes move back toward the tent city area. Taking no chances, he shoved the gag back in before taking another piece. Her muffled scream only increased his desire to find the truth. "I ain't got time to fuck around." He released her leg and picked up a stick, using the edge of the flames to light it. He then held it over the bloody wound on her leg. "I can seal this up and start all over. Mebbe up a little, huh?" He used the knife to lift the heavy right breast. "Course the skin is thicker and I'll have t'dig deeper." He leaned in until his face was inches from hers. "Ya want hell? Ya'll wish ya were there." Tears were running down her face and he saw by the defeat in her eyes and by the way her head nodded frantically that she'd changed her mind. He moved his hand long enough to yank the gag out. "From the beginnin'..." Vin warned, keeping the flaming stick over the open bloody wound.
Buck heard Vin's birdcall and rounded up the others. So when Ezra arrived out of breath and a bit flustered, he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. He had Ezra's real horse and handed the reins over. "Where's Vin'" Josiah asked.
"Physically or mentally?" Ezra replied, climbing on his horse.
"What's that supposed to mean?" JD asked.
"Physically, he's about a quarter of a mile from here, just off the road that is used to transport the unwilling victims."
"And mentally?" Jackson inquired, leaning over his pommel.
"Well... I've seen our buckskinned clad compatriot in a variety of situations, and have seen his temper in action. But I 've never encountered him so cold blooded and lethal."
"He scared you?"" Buck guessed and saw the pale face nod. "What the hell did he do?"
"He's taken Gilbert's leading lady, the vipress that was responsible for Chris's trip to hell and he's questioning her with a rather unsavory method."
"Unsavory how?" JD was restless. "Just spit it out, will you Ezra?"
"He used the term 'peel' and I was directed to leave him to this task and find you."
"Jesus," Josiah uttered, "I heard him talk about that once."
"He did live with the Kiowas and Commanche," Nate said. "And I'm guessin' he was a quick student."
"Let's go," Buck directed, leading them away.
Vin was sitting on a rock, calmly drinking from his canteen when his friends arrived. They flicked odd glances at him and then to the woman, curled up in the dirt by his feet. Nobody moved and Vin didn't care that they were horrified or what they thought of him. He knew where Chris was and the fastest way to get there.
"She's been chirpin' like a bird since ya left," Vin drawled, bending down and tapping her tear-streaked cheek. 'Ain't that right?"
"Please," she sobbed, twisting her head to find anyone. "...somebody..."
"Git away from her Vin," Nathan snarled, getting off his horse and physically shoving Vin aside. There were three small patches of skin missing from her lower leg. "I can't believe yuh done this t' a woman."
"Woman?" Vin snorted, "That's up fer debate. And don't ya dare judge me, none o'ya," he warned, eyeing the shocked faces of the others sharply. "She tortured Chris, sold him inta slavery in some mine in Mexico. I don't gotta tell ya what they'll do t'im after they whip 'im and beat 'im. Them sick fuckin' guards..." he left the dangling thought and sent a repulsive glance her way. "She ain't a saint. I know this area and a shortcut, we can be there in a few hours."
"What about her?" Josiah asked.
"She's comin'," Vin decided, walking to where he left his horse tethered. "If she's lyin', I'm gonna finish what I started. And if Chris's dead, she's gonna wish she was."
"I hope you're not the superstitious type," Ezra said.
"Why?" Buck answered, although he was a disburbed by what Vin did, after hearing what she did to Chris and what most likely had been done to him in the days since, he felt no pity.
"The name of the tent city is Suratrat. I happened to see it backwards in a mirror as I left. When reflected in reverse, it spells out Tartarus, the root of which the cretin's purpose stems."
"Sweet Jesus," Josiah answered, knowing what that meant.
"Well that clears it up fer me!" VIn snapped, "Git t'the point Ezra, m'knife is still warm."
"Tartarus is a place named for the heart of Hades." Standish paused and Sanchez continued.
"A place so full of pure evil that even Lucifer won't enter," Sanchez finished the thought.
"That's where Chris is," Vin said, turning towards the road. "And ridin' t'hell t'git 'im back is what we're gonna do."
"What about the judge, Vin?" JD asked. "I mean, anything could happen and somebody should know where we are?"
"Alright," Vin agreed, eyeing their youngest member. "Yer the best rider we got. Git back to the depot and send a wire. I'll fill ya in on what ya need."
"Hold on a minute, Vin," Buck interjected, waiting for the turbulent sky eyes to rise to meet his own. The rage he saw made him flinch. "I know how bad you need to do this, hell, I'd cut my arm off for Chris, you know that. But riding into Mexico in the dark is suicide."
"Fine! I'll go m'self..."
"Vin!" Buck snapped, getting off his horse and catching the walking powderkeg's shoulder. He felt every bit of tension rippling under that worn hide coat. "How is getting your fool head shot off gonna help Chris? It's after midnight. He's asleep. If this prison is only a couple hours away, we can leave by five a.m or so and get there in time. "
"He's right, Vin," Ezra stated, "No doubt that road is well guarded and you would be picked off by a sniper or worse. You're a tracker, you know how difficult it is to follow a trail. How much more difficult is it when you are riding in near darkness on those unfamiliar roads? What of the bandits that roam the border? "
"Yeah... yeah..." Vin shook off Buck's hand and walked away. He stood in the middle of that road and kept his eyes on the horizon. The ache inside would not diminish until he found Chris. But getting killed wouldn't help his missing friend.
"We can ride back to Grovers Pass and drop her off at the sheriff's office. They'll hold her for the judge." Josiah turned to the woman. "You better think long and hard about what you're going to tell the Judge. The men you tortured and sold were Americans, and if they died, he could send you to prison or worse."
"Of course," Ezra drolled, "If you were to trade what you know and testify against Gilbert he may go a bit easier."
"You made your point," Delilah conceded.
Nathan bandaged the woman's leg and helped her stand. He and Ezra got her on the horse with Josiah. Buck nodded to the others and waited for Vin. He stood in that cold night air for almost ten minutes, then walked over and stood beside the forlorn figure. The disappointment was spelled out in the slouched shoulders.
"We'll find him, Vin," he vowed softly, quelling the urge to reach out and take that pain away from the weary eyes. "You got my word on that."
Vin waited a few moments, drawing strongly on the what he felt from the man beside him. He managed a grim smile then, "Wilmington's word's good as done."
"Damn straight!" Buck chuckled, giving the downcast neck a tug.
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