Jailbreak

by Giles Tippette

  “Well, what’s the plan and when do we do it?”

  I said, “It’s not all thought out down to the last detail, but this is what I got so far.”

  Then I told them what I had planned.

  When I was through, nobody said anything for the longest minute. Finally Hays blew out a breath and said, “Wahl, boss, it’s bodacious if it ain’t nuthin’ else.”

  Lew said, “I ain’t exactly sure where I come in.”

  I said, “Your job will be to gather up that Capitán Davilla. We’re taking him with us the first fifty miles or so.”

  Lew frowned. “You sure you wouldn’t rather have me at the actual jailbreak?”

  Of course he was saying that I might could use his gun, but I shook my head. “I’m gonna get you a uniform. That way you’ll catch Davilla off guard. Besides, you can ride off with him and wait for us outside of town without anybody thinking anything about it. Plus he’s liable to be a handful.”

  “How am I going to git to him?”

  “We’re going to do it at siesta. He’ll be home.”

  Jack said, “Sounds, Justa, like it will mainly be you inside that jail.”

  “Me and Hays,” I said.

  Hays made a slight moan, but Ben said, “Like hell! Norris is my brother too.”

  I said, “I know that, fool. But the most dangerous part of this whole operation is going to be when we hit the street. Ben, I’ve got to have my best gun out there. And that’s you. You’re going to have to direct the fire of yourself and those pistoleros and get us across that street and to the horses.”

  Lew lit a cigarillo. We both smoked the same kind. He said, “I can see it all except about the money. Don’t you reckon you be pushing things a bit on that?”

  I said, firmly, “Nope. We didn’t start this fight. And I’m damn certain we ain’t going to be the loser by it. Now, Lew, I know I’m asking considerable of you. I’ve asked you to leave your post as a lawman back in Blessing and I’ve asked you to come down here and help us commit an illegal act. If you feel like you hadn’t ought to have any part of it, I’ll understand and they’ll be no hard feelings.”

  He looked at me for a moment and then laughed. He said, “Just so long as you un’erstand this be the first illegal act I ever committed. What, you gone loco, Justa? I will be awhile getting the books balanced with you.”

  I said, “Well, you don’t owe me nothing. But I’m still much obliged.”

  Jack said, “What’s next?”

  “Nothing tonight,” I said. “In the morning I want you and Ben to go over and meet those pistoleros. Tell them they got to stay put and not be seen gathered up in one bunch. In the morning Lew and I are going to ride out and look over the best escape route. Hays, Lew will have to use your horse. You just stay put in the hotel. We’re going to do this little matter day after tomorrow sometime between three and four o’clock. I can’t pinpoint the time exactly. I wish to hell Obregon hadn’t gone out of town, else we’d try it tomorrow. It makes me nervous, those pistoleros hanging around town. Jack, you got to really look after them. We got a bunch of loose pieces in this plan, but they is the loosest.”

  Jack said, “I’ll do what I can.”

  I sent Hays down to get another bed to be moved in with Ben and Jack, leaving Lew to bunk with me. As much as I depended on the other three it was good to have Lew with me, someone I could talk matters through with, the good and the bad. Sometimes I had to hide the risks from the others, but I could never have done that with Lew.

  After the others had left and we were settled down over a last whiskey, he said, “Boy, you doin’ a pretty good juggling act here. Getting me a uniform, that police captain, getting to Obregon, keepin’ them pistoleros tied down, not to mention the actual jailbreak and escape its ownself.”

  I grimaced. “Don’t remind me. That fucking Obregon. He picked a hell of a time to be out of town.”

  “Where you gonna git me a uniform, anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I stood up. “Let’s get some shut-eye.”

  5

  Elizandro had recommended just before six o’clock because of the changing of the guards. In some ways that would have been best: it would have meant that the guards would have been less alert, that there would have been more confusion and that night would have fallen on our getaway a good deal sooner.

  But it just didn’t fit in with the rest of my plans. For that reason I’d chosen to act just before the end of siesta, somewhere around half past three or so. That would at least keep most of the townspeople out of the way and off the streets.

  Lew and I rode out the next morning right after breakfast. Because it was the closest route from the jail, we rode out toward the west. Coming through town I was gratified to see that our way took us down a lot of narrow little streets. And some of them were crooked as a dog’s hind leg. That was going to make it that much harder on a catch party to see exactly which way we’d gone.

  Once we cleared the main part of town the countryside was mostly rolling, with small houses patched around here and there. But about a mile out of town was a little range of hills covered with stunted mesquite trees and cedar and high weeds and bramble. We rode into its midst and looked back after we’d topped one of the little hills. The city was nearly invisible, which meant we’d be invisible to anyone looking from the city. I said, “If we can make it up to here without being spotted they ain’t going to have the slightest idea which way we went.”

  “Yeah,” Lew said, leaning his arms on the pommel of his saddle. “If.”

  I said, “I figure to leave them in a pretty good state of confusion, with maybe a bunch of them shot up. I think it’s going to take them a pretty good little while to get themselves a catch party put together. And then Elizandro and his bunch will be going in a different direction.”

  “Yeah,” Lew said. He spit. “I ain’t so much worried about that first mile as I am the next ninety-nine. They got telegraphs in this country, you know.”

  We turned and rode down the little hill. As we footed it I was grateful to see another little line running off at an angle from the ones we’d just crossed. They appeared to be about a half mile away. We put our horses into a lope and crossed the intervening plain in good speed. By veering to our left a little we could get around the little crest of hills and put them between us and any pursuit. I could see another broken line ahead, to the north. They appeared bigger, but they were also more barren. A man never wanted to take uncovered high ground when he was fleeing. He’d stick out against the sky like a sore thumb. No, we’d round that next range.

  But I could see, and from what I remembered of the train ride, the further we got from Monterrey, the more desolate the country was going to get. We’d need to bring plenty of water and grub.

  We stopped to let the horses crop at the burned grass while we surveyed the countryside. I said, “I know they got telegraphs, Lew. But they got to locate us first. And then we’re going to have el capitán for trade goods when they do.”

  Lew spit again. “Shit. You reckon they going to give a damn about one Mex policeman when a bunch of gringos is to be had? And them carrying money? You ask me, I think dragging this Davilla along is just extra weight.”

  To the east I could see that the country was much flatter with less cover. Of course our main direction was north, but I figured we’d come out of town to the west, swing northwest around the growth of hills and then begin to bear up north. I said, “Yeah, this pretty much looks like the route. So you don’t much want to take Davilla?”

  “Don’t see the point.”

  I laughed. “Norris might want to punch him again.”

  He said, “All right, we bring him a mile. Then we let Norris bust him one in the mouth. After that I shoot him. Takes care of it all.”

  I looked at him. I said, “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

  He said, “I’ve knowed hombres like this Davilla. He probably needs shootin’ on about a hunnert different counts. Bet
ter late than never.”

  I was thoughtful for a moment. “I hear he’s a pretty tough character. Second in command to the jefe, the police chief. But the chief is old and fat and ain’t about to lead a chase. But this Davilla will.”

  “Just let me handle it.”

  “I’ll think about it.” I reined my horse around. “Let’s get back to town. I got a bunch of details to sack up.”

  Ben was in the room when we got back to the hotel. I asked him where Jack was. He pulled a face and said, “He’s settin’ on top of Elizandro’s men. They about ready to go and blow that jail up right now. Justa, I think you better get over there and talk to them. I don’t see how we can hold them down until tomorrow afternoon. And they do be gettin’ liquored up.”

  “Oh, hell!” I said. “This is all I need.” I looked around. “Lew, I reckon you better come with me. Jack speaks the lingo like you do, but he ain’t exactly a commanding figure.” I turned to my brother. “Ben, I want you to go and buy the three best horses you can find.”

  “Three?”

  “Yeah, one for Lew, one for Norris and one for a packhorse. And make sure that packhorse is as fast as the rest. Country we’re going to be crossing, we ain’t going to be able to cut him loose if we get in a hot chase. Say that place is just south of here?”

  Ben said, “Yeah, take the street right in front of the hotel. It’ll Y just outside of town but just keep bearing to your right. About two miles farther on, but you’ll hear it before you get to it.”

  Lew and I went back to the livery stable and saddled up again. As we rode out of town I pointed out Obregon’s office and then, a little farther on, signaled toward Davilla’s ranchero. I said, “Jack says it’s back in there about a mile, mile and a half. I’m going to get him to take you there tonight so you can find it on your own.”

  Lew said, “This Jack, is he a pretty steady hand? He looks a little long in the tooth for this foolishness.”

  As best I could I explained about Jack Cole. I said, “Don’t put him down because he can’t take no part in the fight. Ain’t nothing he can do about it and I reckon it will come to all of us. He’ll be holding the horses.”

  Lew said, “I reckon that’s square. I’d druther a man tell me I couldn’t depend on him in a fight than find out about it at the wrong time.”

  Like Ben had said, we heard the place before we got there. It was a big, rambling, ramshackle, one-story affair made out of cinder blocks and wood and first one thing and then another. It looked like it had started out to be one thing and then just kind of growed from that.

  We hitched out horses in front of what we took to be the cantina part and went in through a curtain of some kind of beads. “A hell of a front door” was what I thought. The inside was smoky and hot and noisy. We stopped just inside to let our eyes adjust from the glaring sun to the dark interior. It wasn’t as crowded as I’d thought, but them that was in there was doing their part in the noise department. The bar was lined with a bunch of what I reckoned to be Mexican cowboys with here and there a campesino scattered in amongst them, distinguishable by them white pants they wore tied at the ankles and by them sandals, huaraches they called them, that they wore.

  I finally spotted Jack sitting at a table along the back wall with four or five of what I reckoned to be Elizandro’s men. He had a kind of unhappy look on his face, but it sort of smoothed out when he took sight of me and Lew. I give him a little wave and we made our way through the tables to his side.

  He said, “I’m damn glad to see you, Justa. I was scairt Ben wouldn’t run on to you in time.”

  “What’s the matter?” I said. I was looking over the five hombres sitting there. They were about as rough a looking a lot as I’d ever laid eyes on before in my life. At least in one bunch. They were all dressed like cowboys in those charro britches, them leather-lined, wide-bottomed outfits they wore. And they were wearing big, wide-brimmed sombreros and short leather jackets. Now the leather britches and jackets I could understand. Mexican cowboys work cattle mostly in brambles and cactus patches and they needed to wear leather to keep from getting skinned alive. And they needed them big straw sombreros to keep from getting their brains fried from that sun.

  But after that any resemblance to working cowboys come to a quick halt. Most of them were pretty dirty to begin with and none of them looked like they’d seen a razor in some time. But it wasn’t the state of their clothes or their personal habits that took your attention so much as the look in their faces. Everyone of them appeared as if he’d be just as pleased to cut your liver out as not. The one sitting nearest Jack looked to be the worst. He was so swarthy he damn near looked black. He had a scraggly beard and a big bush mustache that drooped down on both sides of his mouth. For a Mexican he was big, with big shoulders and a big neck. He had a flat, mean-looking face with a big nose and a jagged knife scar that ran nearly all the way down one cheek.

  Jack jerked a thumb at him. “This here is Benito. He’s kind of the boss of the rest. At least while Senor Elizandro ain’t here. He’s getting a little impatient.”

  He just looked at me, making no sign of greeting, neither nodding nor sticking out his hand.

  So I figured the hell with him. Lew and I looked around and drug us up a couple of chairs. There was room to Jack’s right because the five Mexicans were all kind of ranged along the long table with their backs to the wall. Jack was sort of at the end of it. I sat down next to him. That put this Benito right across from me. Lew sat down to my right. He said, pleasantly, “Friendly bunch, ain’t they?”

  I said, “Maybe they ain’t figured out yet that we’re all on the same side.”

  “Maybe somebody ought to bring that to their attention,” Lew said.

  I leaned across toward Benito and said, “My name is Williams. Señor Elizandro has directed that we should work together to free him and my brother.”

  I was about to tell Jack to translate it when this Benito said, “We doan geeve a sheet of choo brudder. You steenkin’ gringo. Esta noche we blow the fuckin’ calabozo all to sheet and keel all the policía.”

  I was plenty surprised he spoke English. He didn’t even much look like he could speak Spanish for that matter. But I heard him say “this night” and I knew that wasn’t going to work. I said, “Naw, you ain’t. I got a plan that is going to use all of us. You are going to take your orders from me. Sus ordenes con mi. Comprende?”

  He spit, barely bothering to turn his head. He said, “Ah doan take sheet from choo. Adiós, gringo. Maybe I blow choo head off.”

  I leaned toward him and inched my chair closer to the table. As I did I eased my revolver out of its holster and held it between my knees, mostly pointed toward Benito. I knew Lew had seen the motion. I figured he was doing the same. I said, low but hard, “Listen, el stupidio, anybody gets their head blown off it’s going to be you. Right now I got a gun under the table pointing right at your cajones. And the gentleman sitting to my right is doing the same thing. You or any of these other hombres do much more than breathe and you ain’t gonna be so popular with the señoritas. Comprende?”

  I heard the clank of their big roweled spurs as several of them involuntarily moved their legs to protect their vital parts. But all Benito did was stiffen up and narrow his eyes.

  I said, “Now you listen because I’ve had about all the shit I’m gonna put up with in this piss-ant country. I’ve been lied to, robbed, insulted and now you’ve taken to threatening me. Now you are either going to do what I tell you or you are going to get the hell out of the way. You comprende?”

  I didn’t know if the others were understanding what I was saying or not, but there was no mistaking that Benito was taking it in. He looked at me, his face working.

  Jack said, “Careful, Justa.”

  I figured he was plenty scared, but, to his credit, he hadn’t made any move to back out of the line of fire.

  Benito and I just sat there staring at each other. Both of his hands were on top of the round table.
Very slowly his right hand began to move backwards, as if he meant to let it dip under the table and perhaps find a pistol. As his hand got to the edge of the table I cocked my revolver. The sound of the cocking, the clitch-clatch, was very loud, louder than the noise of the crowd, of the music, of the drunken shouting.

  His hand stopped.

  Lew said, “I got the three on the end. You ought to be able to get the blowhard an’ the one next to him.”

  We sat that way for another ten seconds or so.

  I said to Benito, “Now you got a choice. You can either call for us a drink or you can walk out in the street with me. But I tell you truly that I am a badass hombre and I will kill you. Savvy?”

  Lew said, lowly, “You better let him save some face, Justa. Else we gonna have to kill all five and they ain’t gonna do us much good dead.”

  I smiled, thinly, and said to Jack, without taking my eyes off the big Mexican, “Tell him in Spanish so that the others can hear that we are all of a common purpose and should be friends. Tell him I am acting on orders from Senor Elizandro. Tell him that I am asking him to be my lieutenant and am planning on assigning them the most heroic part of this daring adventure we will undertake to free the captives.”

  I heard Lew laugh ever so slightly.

  Jack’s voice betrayed how tensed up he’d been. He started off in a kind of high squeak and then had to recover and start over again.

  It seemed it took him a good long while to say what I’d directed. Maybe he was flowering it up a little, which ain’t no bad idea with Mexicans. But whatever he said seemed to go down pretty well because most of the hombres started nodding their heads and looking a good deal less fierce. Finally, Jack finished. Benito stared at me for another second and then slowly began to smile. He said, “Aw, sheet. Mi borracho poquito. Es hokay. No le hace. Es nada.”

  He put out his hand. It took me a second to transfer my revolver to my left so I could shake. Yeah, he was a little drunk and it didn’t matter and it was nothing and it was okay, but I was still going to keep a close eye on the son of a bitch.