Renegade 23

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Renegade 23 Page 18

by Lou Cameron


  They dressed and moved out the other side of the lava tube. As they moved down the slope hand in hand, he stared beyond the village at the pea-green lake in the distance and said, “Hey, I can’t be sure, but from the yellow rim around the edges that wasn’t there before, I’d say that lake is sinking, doll.”

  She shielded her eyes, gazed thoughtfully, and said, “From the steam clouds down that way, I’d say hot lava’s hit water by now, and you know what they say about underwater shock waves. That yellow rim is exposed sulfur oxide. You’re right, the lake’s draining faster now.”

  As they got down near the village, others rushed up to meet them, demanding to know what they’d done, since they’d obviously done something marvelous. Captain Gringo let Ruth explain to the others as he spotted Gaston in the crowd and joined him to ask how the firefight had gone.

  Gaston spat and replied, “What firefight? It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Lava did most amusing things to the ones we rolled all the way down the slope into it. That lava was your notion, of course?”

  “Tell you how we did it, later. Ruth’s coming with us to the capital. I know Trixie and the other Red Cross girls will have to stay here to clean up. But you might find a Guatemalan girl who’d like to see the sea, right?”

  *

  Gaston’s traveling companion was a mulatta named Lola. As Captain Gringo had assumed, both Red Cross teams meant to take more time getting the sicker villagers in shape to move. Dr. Luigi gave them a message to deliver, asking for more food and medical supplies, now that the trail to the lowlands was open again. Some of the Guatemalan soldiers who’d been cut off up there, and who, according to Gaston, had helped do a pretty good job of El Caballero Blanco’s band, offered to go with them. Captain Gringo told them they’d better stick around, just in case any of the bandits had gotten away, or new ones showed up, attracted by carrion.

  So in the end the two soldiers of fortune and the two girls left with the pack burro Gaston had acquired so dishonestly. Once they’d worked past the still slippery and acid slopes of the drained lake, the trip was more pleasure than work. As he’d expected, Ruth was even better looking after they’d showered together under a jungle waterfall. She tried to tell him the story of her life as they spent the next few days, and nights, together. But he knew all he really needed to know about her and she didn’t really want to hear all the details of his wild career, either, as they made love wildly every time they could get out of sight of Gaston and Lola, who probably had other things to talk about.

  Ruth said it seemed all too soon when they came at last to the outskirts of Guatemala City. But by the time they got her to the cable office she was already walking a bit more primly and answering his cruder suggestions about hotels with thoughtful faraway looks. So when they got to the cable office, he held out his hand and said, “Well, I’ll see you around the campus, doll. Thanks for the lovely evening.”

  “You do understand, Dick?”

  “What’s to understand? You gotta go back to the States and play respected widow of a distinguished scientist, right?”

  “I’m afraid so, dear. What are you going to do now?”

  “Duck a lot, I guess. Come on, Gaston. What happened to the burro and Lola?”

  Gaston shrugged and said, “The last I saw them, they were going down an alley somewhere. One assumes she did not want to come all the way to the sea with us after all, hein? Don’t worry, I knew better than to let her steal anything we still might have need for. We have our money and guns and, once in such civilized surroundings, what else does one need?”

  Captain Gringo said he wanted to talk about money with other people. So they left Ruth at the cable office and legged it over to the hotel Gaston had already told him about along the trail.

  It was the best hotel in town and, naturally, where insurance agents and other rich folk were likely to stay. They’d already changed back into their linens, which, if rumpled, were good enough to check in with, if they paid in advance. But nothing happened until later that night.

  They were seated in the taproom, nursing their drinks, when a large, florid fat man in a panama suit came to join them. He handed Captain Gringo a business card and said, “Heard you were in town. How did you boys make out? Is Miss Swann with you?”

  Captain Gringo read the card, shook his head, and said, “No. She died before we could get to her, Mr., ah, Smith.”

  Smith, if that was his name, heaved a long weary sigh and said, “Shit, there goes the ball game, then. I guess we can’t fault you if she was killed before you even got there. But the company’s still going to miss the over insured little bitch!”

  He started to rise. Captain Gringo said, “Sit down, Mr. Smith. We’re not finished yet. You owe us some money.”

  The insurance troubleshooter sat back down, but said, “I’m afraid you’re laboring under some misapprehension, Captain Gringo. You boys got your front money. We can write that off. But one could hardly expect my company to offer you another dime for failing to carry out your mission!”

  Captain Gringo took out a folded paper he’d been working on along the trail and said, “We didn’t fail you. We went exactly where you sent us, and it wasn’t easy.”

  “Of course you did. But if the client we sent you to rescue was dead before you got there, you can hardly expect us to pay you for rescuing her, dammit!”

  “We want half. If you’ll read this prepared statement, you’ll see we pulled half your chestnuts out of the fire, at least.”

  Smith unfolded the paper and asked, “What’s this? I can hardly make it out.”

  “So it’s written in pencil on soggy map paper. It’ll still hold up in court, once I sign and notarize it for you. The pencil’s indelible. Borrowed it off a lady who draws maps a lot.”

  Smith read the prepared statement, frowning at first, then breaking into a grin as he said, “By God, that’s right! The double indemnity was for violent death! But isn’t yellow jack a pretty violent way to go?”

  “I’d rather be shot. But she still died of natural causes. Gaston here will sign it too. If we see a checkbook poco tiempo.”

  “But you two are notorious outlaws and—”

  “You know that won’t come up in any Chicago court,” Captain Gringo cut in, adding, “I’ll sign my name Smith, too, and Gaston here can be Jones if you like. The point is that once you can present that, notarized by Guatemala …”

  Smith said, “You got it,” and took out his checkbook.

  They all parted friends at the notary public’s office down the street when Smith took off to wire the good news. When the two soldiers of fortune were free to talk again, Gaston laughed like a mean little kid and said, “You know, of course, he could have gotten a death certificate free from the International Red Cross?”

  Captain Gringo patted the breast pocket he’d put his check in and asked, “What can I tell you? I paid for my education. Let them pay for theirs. Which way’s the railroad station, Gaston?”

  “That way. But what is the great rush, my young and headstrong? We have booked two adorable rooms for the night, and the paseo in the plaza is about to begin. Have I failed to mention that the girls of Guatemala are trés attractive, or that they are, how you say, nuts about handsome strangers?”

  Captain Gringo laughed and said, “No, but why don’t we go find out if you’re right or not?”

  The Renegade Series by Lou Cameron, Writing As Ramsay Thorne

  Renegade

  Blood Runner

  The Fear Merchant

  Death Hunter

  Macumba Killer

  Panama Gunner

  Death in High Places

  Over the Andes to Hell

  Hell Raider

  The Great Game

  Citadel of Death

  The Badlands Brigade

  The Mahogany Pirates

  Harvest of Death

  Terror Trail

  Mexican Marauder

  Slaughter in Sinaloa

  Cave
rn of Doom

  Hellfire in Honduras

  Shots at Sunrise

  River of Revenge

  Payoff in Panama

  Volcano of Violence

  … And more to come every month!

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