The Reinvention Of Rudd Carter. A Western Action Adventure Novel

by R. L. Davis

  “Come in,” he yelled. “It’s open.”

  “Well?” Sui Yen asked from the open doorway.

  “Well, what?”

  “Did you like my surprise?”

  “Of course, they were fabulous, both of them.” He laughed and then paused. “I know why you did this. It worked. Thank you, my friend.”

  “Are you going to see either one of them again?”

  “Probably, but not just yet,” he answered. “Believe me, I appreciate everything you tried to do for me tonight. I needed a jolt to bring me back to my senses after the shock of losing Ming Li. Although it will be some time before I call on either of them, this evening woke me up to the fact that life goes on and that there’s plenty to look forward to. I felt that all was lost and that my life was over when Ming Li left. I need some time to mourn her loss and then I’ll be able to regroup and start to live again.” Rudd thought for a moment. “It was rough. I’ll never forget Ming Li. I’ll always love her. I hope she knows that her sacrifice is not in vain. I miss her terribly, but I know that I have to move on. Thank you for standing by me and seeing me through these last weeks. You’ve been a real friend.” They shook hands and bid one another good night. Rudd turned down the lights and was alone for the first time in weeks. Although he continued to enjoy the company of women, it would be twenty years before he once again found someone with whom he could feel real closeness and intimacy.

  * * *

  Sui Yen stepped out onto the street and walked slowly toward his home. It is so sad to see two close friends that have loved each other so deeply part ways. There is no way back if Rudd is to realize his true destiny. The course has been set and all we can do is honor and respect the path forward. He walked along and a smile came to his face. Ming Li will be happy when I tell her that her beloved is well.

  Part Three

  The Outcome

  Chapter Thirteen

  April 20, 1923, Mexicali

  At the end of April, Rudd’s men began arriving in Mexicali eight to ten at a time. They were taken out to Don Hoff’s ranch where they were to be housed and trained in the use of the new weapons.

  In the first week of June, Günter arrived, and he would be second in command of the operation. Though he didn’t care much for him personally, Rudd had great respect for Günter as a first rate professional, and so he put him in charge of training.

  The training sessions rolled along smoothly for the next couple of weeks. Rudd and Kathryn lived happily together in their love nest at El Matador. Rudd visited the ranch every other day to check on how the training was progressing. As each group of ten men completed their new weaponry orientation, they were rotated into Mexicali and put up in hotels. Three weeks before the battle, Günter moved into town. Rudd made sure that Len got him a large comfortable room at El Coyote.

  Even though Günter was not his drinking partner of first choice, every night when he escorted Kathryn to the restaurant, Rudd went into the bar and drank with him. He was after all a brother at arms.

  One evening at the bar, Gunter told him, “I fought with the French Foreign Legion in North Africa during the big war.” He proudly thrust his jaw forward and asked, “How about you, what did you do?”

  Rudd shook his head, smiling humbly. “Nothing nearly as exciting as the French Foreign Legion. I organized and trained small covert raiding groups for the Canadians.” He gave Günter a long cool stare. “So what was it like in North Africa?”

  “Pretty tame really, but the women were something. I had a good time while I was there.”

  “I’ll bet you did. As I remember, you always did like the girls,” Rudd said, drawing an arrogant smirk from the German.

  Several evenings later while at the bar, Rudd offered to show Günter around Mexicali. After walking a few blocks, they came to an area of over-crowded nightclubs and bars with boisterous young men yelling and fights spilling out onto the sidewalks.

  A half dozen drunk, Mexican men stumbled out of a dive and saw Rudd and Günter on the sidewalk not twenty feet away. An excited cry went up. “Gringos!”

  The six men charged only to be met with a barrage of well-placed kicks and punches intended to disable them. Günter and Rudd weaved and bobbed around every strike against them, inflicting maximum pain and damage to the attackers. After the first rush, only three of the attackers were left standing. The men backed away, drew knives, and came at the two of them again. One of the Mexicans who went down on the first charge rose to his knees and received a kick in the head from Günter.

  Rudd shot a quick glance at his partner and could see murderous rage on his face as he met another assault from a man thrusting a knife at him. Günter reached out, caught the knife hand of his assailant by the wrist, and drove the knife through the startled man’s throat. In the same motion, the German slammed the dying man’s face into the wall next to him, where he crumpled to the sidewalk.

  Rudd hit the man closest to him at the base of the nose with the heel of his right hand, spreading his nose all over his face and rendering him unconscious. Turning his attention to the last man, he found that he and Günter both had hold of the same person. Dropping his knife, the man let out a scream. Günter pushed him to the ground and motioned for him to stay. The whole fight had taken less than two minutes.

  A crowd formed, and as if on cue, Chief Ernie Fuentes appeared with three armed deputies.

  “I saw the entire fight from across the street. These six characters sure picked the wrong two guys to tangle with,” Fuentes said, shaking his head. “It was complete self-defense on your part.” He glanced at one of the bodies on the sidewalk. “The one lying there is dead. I saw you kill him with his own knife.” Fuentes pointed to the rest of the men still down. “The rest of you who were lucky enough to survive are going to do some serious time for attempted murder.” A broad grin formed on his face as he said to Rudd, “I can’t wait to have my police force backed up with a militia of men like you.”

  “I’m glad you got here when you did,” Rudd said, gazing around at the twenty or so spectators that had gathered. “I don’t think we would have fared so well with a mob this size. There’s nothing like a few uniformed men with pistols to calm things down.”

  “Look, Rudd, I don’t want to rain on your parade,” Fuentes said growing serious, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you or your men to be seen in this neighborhood. These people don’t like Gringos. When they see you walking around on their turf, it riles them up. I know you hombres can take care of yourselves, but these young Mexicanos get a little drunk, see a couple of guys like the two of you in their territory, and right away they’ve got something to prove. All I need is a couple more fights that result in deaths and the locals are going to demand another police chief.”

  “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Ernie. I’ll make sure my men stay clear of these areas from now on.” Rudd hesitated. “I almost forgot to introduce you to my first officer, Günter Schmidt. He joined our outfit a short while back. We go back almost thirty years to when we fought in campaigns in Southeastern China together. You’ll be seeing a lot of him in the next few weeks. As you saw tonight, he’s a good man to have watching my back.”

  Günter stepped forward, shook Ernie’s hand, clicked his heels and said with a slightly more pronounced German accent than usual, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Chief. I’m looking forward to working with you. Thank you for your timely intervention, although as you could tell, we were having a good time. Rudd and I work well together, don’t you think?”

  Ernie let out a belly laugh. “I’ll say.” He turned to his deputies and repeated in Spanish what Günter had just said. The six of them had a good chuckle.

  “Do you need us to stay around, or can we go back to the hotel?” Rudd asked.

  “It would probably be best if you two get out of here,” Ernie said. “By the way, has anyone ever told you that at a distance you guys look alike?”

  “Over the years it’s been mentioned a few ti
mes,” Rudd answered.

  Two days later, Rudd went by the police station to find Fuentes talking excitedly on the telephone. After a couple of minutes, he hung up. “That call was from the other side of town. A nine-year-old girl was raped, murdered and butchered last night, left nude with her female organs cut out of her and laid across her chest.” His voice was high-pitched.

  Rudd felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh my god! Did anyone see anything? Were there any witnesses?”

  “No one saw a thing. They found her early this morning, shortly after dawn. We don’t even know her name. No one has reported a missing child yet.”

  “Is there any record of this kind of murder occurring in Mexicali before?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard of anything like this, but I’ll check and see. I’m going to call the police over in Calexico and see if they’ve had something similar happen over there.”

  Rudd thought for a moment. “You know, some very similar homicides occurred in Peking, China, a little over twenty years ago, right after the Boxer Rebellion was put down. There were three murders. The victims were nine or ten-year old girls. They had been raped, murdered, and mutilated just as you described this one. Their faces were smeared with rouge and lipstick. By any chance, did the little girl have lipstick and rouge on her face?”

  “There was no mention of it,” answered Fuentes. “That’s a good question. I’ll call back and ask. Why? What would that mean?”

  “It would mean to me that whoever murdered those girls in Peking twenty years ago might be right here in Mexicali now.” Rudd turned, walked toward the door, paused, and then looked back at Ernie. “Keep me up to date on this case. I’m going to give it some thought for a couple of days.”

  About a third of Rudd’s men were now staying in Mexicali. He decided to drop by El Coyote bar and see who might be in town.

  Coming into the bar, he was greeted by the Texans: Matt, Lefty, Walt and Tex, four of the best that fought with him in Juarez in 1911. They were tough men. They loved fighting, drinking, women, and in general just raising hell whenever they got the chance. But all of them were straight and honest, and Rudd knew he could trust any one of them with his life. He valued that quality above all else. In return, the four Texans had always shown him great respect as a leader and friend.

  As he approached the bar, each man stepped out to shake his hand. “You look great Rudd,” Matt told him. “You haven’t changed a bit, except for a few gray hairs, and that actually makes you look a bit wiser, if that’s possible.”

  Rudd felt high-spirited being with his Texans. “Boys, let’s get a table and have a couple beers, on me, of course. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  They moved to a table in the middle of the room. Len Mosier followed them over and Rudd introduced him. Len took their orders and left.

  “What’ve you boys been up to since Juarez?” Rudd asked.

  Each man told him pretty much the same story. They had settled down with a woman or two for a year or so, worked at menial jobs until the wanderlust got the best of them, and then they took off in the middle of the night.

  “The four of us got together south of the border to fight with the rebels,” Matt said. “You know, fightin’ pays a whole lot more than ranchin’.”

  “And it sure is a helluva lot more fun,” added Walt.

  A chuckle broke out among the five of them.

  “If this desert battle comes off as planned, there will be positions available to us as constables at very good money,” Rudd said. “We would act as a militia to back up the police in keeping the peace.”

  All four Texans showed interest.

  “So Mexicali could become a sorta “Valhalla” for semi-retired soldiers of fortune,” Bill said with a grin.

  They were enjoying their reunion when Günter came strolling down the stairs from the hotel rooms above. Approaching their table with a leer on his face he said, “I see you boys are having a good time. May I join you?”

  “Of course, pull up a chair,” Rudd said.

  The Texans jumped up to greet him. In spite of his German air of superiority and sarcasm, they all had great respect for his ability and talent as a military man.

  Rudd eyed the German. “You look like you just got up, Günter.”

  “I did. Just a few minutes ago. It’s difficult being in a town with so many available women of all shapes and sizes. I have to get my fill while I can.” He bellowed a big, guttural laugh, and the men joined him. “You know me… I like the girls. What can I say?”

  “Which do you like the most, Günter,” Matt kidded, “the Asian or the Mexican girls?”

  “Well, right now,” Günter answered with a cruel smile, a smile that Rudd remembered from years ago, “I’ve developed an appetite for young Mexican girls. I think they’re very cute.”

  “And very cheap, and that’s good, ain’t it?” Walt asked.

  “Very cheap, and that doesn’t hurt at all,” Günter answered with another big laugh.

  “Boys, what do you think of the new arsenal out at the ranch?” Rudd asked, attempting to change the subject.

  “The fire power we’ll have with those sub-machine guns and B.A.R.s,” Matt answered, “is going to overwhelm the Federales. They won’t know what hit ‘em. You add in the mortars and machine guns and it’s going to be a slaughter out there in the desert.”

  “If only we would have had this stuff back in the nineties in China,” Günter added.

  The boys drank and talked for a while longer until Günter looked at his pocket watch and said, “It’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned and walked out onto the street.

  Noting that it was nine o’clock, Rudd watched the German exit the barroom. I wonder where he goes every night.

  In the middle of the night, Rudd awoke thinking about Juarez. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn’t get out of his mind the possibility that a little girl could have been murdered there too. He got up, shaved, bathed, got dressed and went downstairs for an early morning coffee. A few minutes before eight, he walked out onto the already warm Mexicali street. His destination was the police station. When he entered, Fuentes looked up from his morning newspaper. “Buenos dias, compadre. What brings you out so early?”

  “I couldn’t sleep last night,” Rudd said with a frown. “I can’t stop thinking about that young murdered girl. Have you gotten any word on whether she had rouge and lipstick smeared on her face or not?”

  “I left a message for the officer I talked to the other day,” answered Fuentes. “I haven’t heard back from him yet. I’ll call over there right now.” He picked up the phone and talked on the line for five minutes. Hanging up, he said to Rudd, “That was Officer Ortega. He said that the little girl’s face was smeared with rouge and lipstick. He got very excited and wanted to know how I knew, since they had purposely omitted that detail from the news release. I told him I would get back to him.”

  Rudd thought for a moment. “Ernie, before I say anything, I’m going to ask you to do me a favor based on a hunch I have.”

  “Anything at all. What do you need?”

  “I think it would be interesting to ask the Juarez police if there is a record of any murders of this type occurring after Diaz’s troops evacuated Juarez on May tenth, nineteen eleven.”

  “I can do that immediately. Anything else?”

  “Yes. Then ask the police in El Paso if any murders with the same M.O. occurred at any time in nineteen eleven.”

  “You’re so specific about the dates.” Fuentes brows arched. “Do you know something that you’re not telling me?”

  “I know absolutely nothing for sure, but I have a gut feeling. I just hope I’m wrong. I’d appreciate it if you would get word to me the minute you get an answer back from Juarez and El Paso. If it comes back that a murder or murders similar to the one that took place here were commited either of those two places during those dates, then I’ll have something to tell you. I
f not then there’s no need to cast the shadow of guilt over an innocent person.”

  The following Sunday morning Rudd and Kathryn ordered breakfast to be sent up to their room with the idea of spending most of the day in. They sat eating breakfast in thoughtful silence until Kathryn poured them each a cup of coffee. “Were you serious the other day when you told me that you want this to be your last military campaign? That you’d give up soldiering and settle down in the States?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Now that I have you in my life, I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I know that when I go out in the desert for this battle, you’re going to worry about me. I don’t want you to have to live that way year after year.”

  She smiled affectionately. “You’re right. I am going to worry about you. I don’t ever want to lose you. But, understand if this is what you want to do the rest of your life, I still want to be with you. I only bring the subject up because of what you expressed to me the other day. You’re happiness means everything to me.” She put her arms around him and held him close. “You’ve been so thoughtful about not questioning me about my past relationships with men that I want you to know that before you there was only one man, and I was married to him.”

  Rudd nodded and stood back, his eyes glued to her face.

  “His name was Rex. I ran away from home when I was fifteen to join a vaudeville act, playing the violin. Rex was the leader of the act and thought I was eighteen. I was very well-developed at fifteen.”

  He glanced at her breasts protruding from under her negligee. “From what I see now, I bet you were.” He squeezed her hand and grinned.

  She blushed, folded her hand into a fist, and hit him softly on the shoulder. “You interrupted me,” she said, giggling. “Rex took me under his wing, showed me the ropes and protected me. After a year of traveling all over the country together, we were married. We traveled with our act for several years until he began to show signs of an illness. When it became apparent that he was really sick, we settled in Los Angeles. Rex was a very good businessman, and before he died five years ago, he was successful at selling me as a solo act in theatres around town. I got to know a lot of agents through his connections. On a couple of occasions, I was asked to screen test, but acting wasn’t for me. What I’m getting at is that with the contacts I have and all the things you are expert at, you could do well in Hollywood. Western movies are a big rage now. You could make a lot of money as a technical adviser.”