Bannerman the Enforcer 10

by Kirk Hamilton

  “Hold it!” he snapped. “Call out pronto or I’ll blow your head off.”

  “Sandy. It’s me. Mel,” came a voice out of the darkness.

  “Mel?” There was doubt in the guard’s voice. “Thought you were s’posed to be on your way to Bighorn with the note.”

  “Damn hoss went lame,” Mel said, walking slowly out of the darkness leading his mount. “Thought I’d better come back and get a decent mount.”

  “Senator ain’t gonna like the delay,” the guard said, lowering the rifle. “Say, that bronc don’t seem lame to me. He ... Ugh!”

  He started to bring up the rifle but a gun butt smashed against his skull from behind and he crumpled to the narrow trail. Cato stepped forward.

  “You played it just right, mister. Might be we can use you again.”

  “I—I can’t do nothin’ else for you,” Mel stammered.

  He jumped as Yancey, coming up silently behind him, jabbed him in the ribs.

  “I wouldn’t say that, if I was you, mister,” Yancey told him quietly. “If you’re no use to us any more, then we’d have to make sure you’re out of action while we move in.”

  Mel gulped and stepped away nervously.

  “I—I guess I could likely—get you through the main gate.”

  “You better,” Cato told him tightly. “Let’s ride. You lead, Mel. And don’t think I won’t blow you out of the saddle if you try anythin’ froggy. It might wake up the whole damn place, but you’ll be dead—I guarantee it.”

  Mel nodded nervously. “I—I’ll do what you want.”

  He glanced at the unconscious guard and Yancey knelt to feel for the man’s neck pulse. He looked up at Cato.

  “You sure hit him hard, Johnny. I don’t think he’s ever gonna wake up.”

  Cato grunted and led his horse out of the brush fringing the trail.

  They continued down the narrow path, only faintly visible in the dim starlight. But Mel knew the way well and he led them without fuss until they saw a tiny cluster of lights in the distance.

  “The house,” said Mel. “Wall around it with a main gate. Built to hold off Injuns in the early days. All the windows got heavy wooden shutters across ’em with loopholes and slits. Couple are barred.”

  “Which ones?” Yancey asked, easing his mount forward.

  “West wall. The gal’s in one of them rooms, but I dunno which for sure.”

  “We’ll find it—you do your part. How many guards on the gate?”

  “Just one. They never figured anyone would be able to get past …”

  Yancey cut him short. “He due for relief?”

  “Not till after midnight.”

  “Time enough, Yance,” Cato muttered.

  “Right. What’s the layout at the gate?” Yancey asked Mel.

  “Straight approach. Only a few clumps of rocks nearby where you could hide. Built that way deliberately, I guess, so’s the Injuns couldn’t get——”

  “The guard,” Yancey snapped. “What’s he like?”

  “We-ell—things bein’ mighty quiet around here, I reckon he’ll be dozin’.”

  Yancey slid his rifle from the saddle scabbard and pressed his Colt barrel against Mel’s spine.

  “Okay. Take us in, Mel,” he ordered quietly.

  The man swallowed as Yancey and Cato tethered their horses. Mel was given his six-gun, without cartridges, and put on his horse. Cato showed him the Manstopper and he seemed fascinated by the massive gun with the twin barrels.

  “The big one’s loaded with buckshot,” Cato told him. “It’ll easily reach the gate from here. It sure as hell’d wake the dead—but you’d be no more’n a pile of rags.”

  “I savvy,” Mel said with a trembling voice. “Mebbe I better lead the bronc—if it’s supposed to be lame.”

  “Do that,” Yancey said.

  “See? Now you’re bein’ smart,” Cato added. “You might live through this yet.”

  Mel dismounted, then started leading his mount towards the high, dark gate in the adobe wall.

  Yancey and Cato slid from behind the rocks, Cato moving silently to the left of the big gate, Yancey taking the right.

  “Hey, Bishop,” Mel called softly. He kicked at the heavy timbers and a chain rattled briefly. “Wake up, Bishop, or I’ll see the senator gets to hear about you sleepin’ on duty.”

  “Who’s that?” a drowsy voice called from behind the gate. “You, Mel?”

  “Who else? Lousy damn mount’s thrown a shoe. Near busted my head open. Lemme in. I’ll have to get another bronc.”

  “Hell almighty! The senator’ll scalp you. He thinks you’re at Dukes’ place by now.”

  “Well, I would’ve been only for this jug head. C’mon, Bishop, get the goddamn gate open, huh? I need a drink before I start out again.”

  A small window opened in the gate and the guard looked out.

  “Judas Priest!” exploded Mel. “Will you open up? My head’s killin’ me.”

  “All right, all right, keep your voice down,” growled Bishop. “I don’t want the senator disturbed any more’n you do.”

  Bolts rattled as they shot back. Yancey heard the man grunt as he lifted down a heavy wooden bar. There was a scrabbling sound as the guard threw his weight against the gate and swung it open.

  Suddenly, Mel slapped his hat across the rump of his horse. The startled animal leapt towards Cato, catching the Enforcer unawares. He was crushed between the animal’s body and the wall and went down like a sack of wet rags. Mel leapt through the gateway, yelling a warning to the guard. Both men instantly flung their bodies at the gate to close it, but Yancey dived through, somersaulted, spun around in the dust and came up on one knee, just as the gate closed.

  Bishop spun with a rifle to meet his threat, but Yancey’s Winchester crashed in four fast shots, sending Mel and Bishop flying in different directions as the bullets hit.

  Yancey bounded up and ran to get the gate open, but a guard on the roof of the sprawling house suddenly fired; his lead passing between the forefinger and thumb of Yancey’s hand as he pressed it against the woodwork.

  He spun away and managed to knock the wooden bar out of its sockets before rolling and firing at the man on the roof.

  The bullets sprayed adobe dust and ricocheted into the night. He gathered himself and ran across the dark grounds, away from the gate, hoping to draw the guards’ fire. He figured it might give Cato a chance to slip inside if he weren’t hurt too badly.

  Suddenly, there was uproar in the house and one of the outbuildings which Yancey guessed was the bunkhouse. Men were spilling out into the yard and the man on the roof shouted that someone was loose in the grounds.

  Mel had lied. There were at least eight men pounding across the yard, searching for Yancey.

  The Enforcer dived over a horse trough as guns opened up. Water spurted out of a dozen holes as the bullets thudded into the stonework. He crawled underneath and blasted away at the running legs of the guards. He saw one man go down and another stumble as his lead took off the heel of his boot. The man fell but somersaulted and flung himself behind a post, triggering his shotgun.

  Yancey reared back, clawing at his face as the charge of buckshot tore up the ground in front of him and flung stinging earth and grit into his eyes. Staggering to his feet, he lunged for the main building. But he was half-blinded and he tripped on something that sent him sprawling.

  He fell on his back and brought his rifle around to shoot at a man who ran in. The bullet took the man in the chest, and he lifted to his toes before going down, thrashing. Then Yancey jerked out his Colt, fired again and saw the other men scatter. He bounded to his feet and was gathering himself for a run into the house when a rifle butt smashed across his head with stunning force and drove him to his knees. Again the rifle smashed against his skull and he went into the dirt. He groaned, flopped onto his back and lay still.

  ~*~

  Light spilled from the doorway of the house as it opened. Curt Callaghan looked out,
his face twisted in triumph as he stood over Yancey holding the rifle he had used to knock the Enforcer unconscious.

  Senator Kinnane walked into the courtyard with Cherokee Morgan at his side. They both carried six-guns.

  Curt Callaghan was standing beside Yancey.

  “Came in here like a one-man army,” he said looking up at Kinnane.

  “Alone?” the senator answered in surprise. “He did this alone?” He gestured to the dead and wounded men scattered around the yard. Cherokee Morgan pushed past the senator and crossed the yard.

  “Looks like it,” Callaghan said, then raised his voice. “Sykes. Langdon. Get that gate closed and barred. Take a look over the wall and make sure this hombre was alone.”

  Cherokee came back, her face grim.

  “Mel’s at the gate. He’s dead. Looks like Bannerman waylaid him and forced him to show the way. He wouldn’t have had time to get to Bighorn first.”

  Kinnane frowned. “Which means Dukes hasn’t got my ultimatum.” He turned to Callaghan. “Search Bannerman.”

  Callaghan quickly obeyed and held up the note containing the lock of Kate’s hair.

  “This what you want, Senator?”

  Kinnane’s mouth tightened angrily, then he kicked the unconscious Yancey in the ribs.

  “He always was a stumbling block,” he muttered. “All right, put him in the room next to the girl. I’ll see him when he comes to. The rest of you take a damn good look around and make sure he doesn’t have company.”

  Cherokee frowned. “I don’t like it, Senator.”

  “You think I do?” he snapped in return. “It was you who assured me this place was impregnable. Yet here one man’s broken in and killed at least three guards and wounded two others. You told me it could be held against an army.”

  “Maybe that’s the trouble; safe against an army, but not a single man who knows what he’s doing. And Bannerman obviously does.”

  “Why not let me finish him now?” Callaghan asked eagerly, placing the rifle barrel against Yancey’s temple. “No problems then.”

  “Not yet,” Kinnane said. “I want to talk with him first. Get him inside and call me when he’s conscious.”

  He wheeled abruptly and stormed back into the house. Cherokee Morgan’s teeth chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip as Callaghan ordered a man to help him.

  ~*~

  Yancey felt ill when he came to. His head throbbed and pounded and he had two huge lumps on the base of his skull.

  He was lying on the bare ticking of a straw mattress on a wooden-framed bed. Callaghan sat on a chair near the end of the bed, nursing a rifle. He stirred the moment he saw the Enforcer’s eyelids flutter, crossed to the door, and pounded on the panel.

  “Go tell the senator he’s comin’ ’round,” he yelled, then crossed back to the bed. He prodded Yancey in the ribs with the rifle barrel.

  “Sit up on the edge of the bed, real slow, Bannerman. I’m just lookin’ for an excuse to blow your brains out, so you try somethin’ if you’ve a mind ...”

  Yancey held his head in his hands as he slowly swung his legs over the side and gingerly put his stockinged feet on the floor. They had taken his boots, gunbelt and hunting knife. But he still wore his trousers’ belt with a short, razor-sharp blade of steel hidden inside a special sheath.

  He stared sullenly at Callaghan who grinned in pleasure at Yancey’s obvious suffering. Callaghan rapped him lightly across the head with the rifle barrel. Yancey groaned and sprawled across the bed, his head feeling as if it were exploding. Callaghan leaned across the bed, grabbed the front of Yancey’s shirt and heaved him upright. Yancey came—but smartly snapped his knee into Callaghan’s groin. The man groaned and staggered back, his face gray and contorted with pain. Yancey started after him but the door flew open and a guard pointed a shotgun at him. Kinnane stood behind the guard, a cocked Colt in his hand. Yancey froze, then slowly straightened and raised his hands shoulder high.

  “You don’t give up easily, do you, Bannerman?” the senator said, stepping into the room. He glared at Callaghan as he clambered painfully to his feet. “Fool,” he said icily.

  Callaghan suddenly slashed out with his rifle and knocked Yancey over the bed. The Enforcer clawed at the mattress and dragged himself to a kneeling position. His eyes came into focus and he saw that Callaghan was being restrained by Kinnane and the guard.

  “Leave him be for now,” the senator snapped.

  Callaghan reluctantly eased back, but he kept his deadly gaze on Yancey. The senator gestured for Yancey to sit on the edge of the bed. “We found two horses tethered outside the walls among some rocks, Bannerman. Who was with you? Cato?”

  Yancey shook his head slowly. “Came alone. Just happened to run into your man.”

  “How did you come to be in this part of Shadow Mesa?”

  “Had a shoot-out with Latigo Webb. Killed him, I guess. Leastways, the sawbones didn’t think he’d pull through. But he told me you’d likely bring Kate here.”

  “Tell me about the horses,” Kinnane barked.

  Yancey looked at him levelly. “One was for Kate—if I’d managed to bust her out.”

  Callaghan scoffed but Kinnane frowned. “Confident of doing that, were you, Bannerman?”

  Yancey shrugged.

  Kinnane turned to Callaghan. “The stirrups on that second horse, how were they set?”

  “Short. Could’ve been for a gal right enough, but you ask me it was Cato’s horse.”

  Yancey shook his head slowly. “No. It was Cato’s saddle rig, but it was for Kate. You think I’d come here and leave the Governor unguarded? Cato stayed to watch him.”

  “Mmmmm,” Kinnane said, uncertainly. “Hear you’ve got a new man called Chisholm. He could guard Dukes.”

  “Think I’d trust a new man to do that? Like hell. Not with the Governor of Texas, Kinnane.”

  The senator smiled crookedly. “That sounds like your reasoning, Bannerman. And, speaking of the Governor, you know you’re looking at the new Governor of Texas, of course.”

  “Am I?”

  “Will be before sundown. You see, I’m delivering my ultimatum to Dukes in person this time. He resigns and names me as the new Governor. Either that, or he loses his top Enforcer and his daughter. She’ll die very slowly, until such time as he does what I ask.”

  Yancey started to rise but Callaghan’s rifle barrel jabbed his chest and slammed him back on the bed.

  “Just gimme that excuse, Bannerman,” the man snarled. The Enforcer stayed where he was, but he was glaring at the senator, not Callaghan.

  “You’ll kill him. His heart won’t stand another big shock.”

  Kinnane smiled. “I’m well aware of that. It will save a bullet.” He turned to Callaghan. “Keep him alive until you hear from me.”

  The senator left the room and the guard backed out, locking the door after him, leaving Callaghan guarding Yancey.

  In the passage, Kinnane stopped as he came up against a grim-faced Cherokee Morgan.

  “Why bargain with Dukes now that he’s obviously sent Bannerman here to try to rescue the girl? Why not cut off an ear or a finger and throw it in his face. He’ll sign that resignation fast enough then.”

  “And the shock would kill him.”

  “Do you care?”

  “Yes. I want him to sign first. He’d die on the spot if I did what you want. Now you leave that girl alone till I get back, Cherokee. I know you want Dukes to suffer, but you let me nail down that Governorship first. I warn you, woman: you jeopardize my chances of getting that in any way, and I’ll personally see you die the most horrible death you can imagine.”

  Cherokee paled and stepped back. Kinnane gave her one final, cold look then pushed past her.

  ~*~

  Yancey knew that he wouldn’t die an easy death—not if Curt Callaghan had anything to say about it.

  The man sat watching impassively, with his rifle cradled across his knees, a bullet in the chamber and the hammer cocked bac
k. All he had to do was pull the trigger ... The Enforcer lay on the bed rubbing his stomach.

  “Somethin’ wrong with your gut, Bannerman?” Callaghan asked, a vicious smile on his face.

  “Was all right till you kicked me,” Yancey growled. Callaghan laughed. It seemed to please him. He didn’t realize that each time Yancey rubbed his midriff, he worked the dagger a little more out of its sheath. It was almost at the stage where he could wrench it free, when there was a scuffling sound at the door.

  Callaghan leapt to his feet and threw a warning glance at Yancey to stay where he was. He edged towards the door.

  “Carney?”

  “Yeah,” said a muffled voice through the door. “Dropped my gun tryin’ to get out the goddamn keys. Cherokee wants you ...”

  The door started to open and Callaghan frowned.

  “She knows I can’t leave here. She’ll have to come in here if she wants ...”

  The door crashed back and Yancey caught a brief glimpse of Cato coming through in a blur and diving for the floor, as Callaghan blasted with his rifle. Yancey instantly launched himself off the bed and drove at Callaghan with the buckle knife. But Cato’s Manstopper thundered from floor level, the shot lifting Callaghan off his feet and flinging him across the room. He hit the wall and slid to the floor in a huge smear of blood.

  “Come on, Yance,” Cato yelled, throwing Callaghan’s rifle towards him.

  The sound of pounding boots came from the passage as Cato hurriedly ejected the used shot-shell and thumbed home a fresh load.

  Yancey dropped to one knee and fired two shots at the approaching guards. One dropped, and the other hunted cover. Cato’s Manstopper thundered again and the man was blown half way along the passage, skidding on his shoulders. Two more men rushed in and Yancey brought one down with a bullet through the middle of his face. The second turned to run and Cato fired, the lead catching the man between the shoulders. He went down hard and, as the echoes of the gunfire died, Kate Dukes screamed.

  Another man with a double-barreled shotgun appeared at the passage and Yancey dived towards Kate’s room.

  The shotgun blasted and large chunks of adobe and timber flew from the doorway. Cato stepped out of the cloud of dust and smoke, the Manstopper braced into his hip. The guard was reloading as Cato shot a hole in his chest.