Fic: Sons of Anarchy - The Professionals - Teen

[tanaquific]

Title: The Professionals
Fandom: Sons of Anarchy
Rating: Teen
Contains: Nothing exceeding canon but does include animal death
Words: 20,500 words
Summary: A Western AU for Sons of Anarchy. Four soldiers of fortune—Jax, Opie, Tig and Kozik—are hired by a rich American businessman (Jacob Hale) to rescue his wife, who has been kidnapped by a Mexican bandit (Alvarez). Having pulled off a daring rescue, the team head back to the border with Alvarez on their tail—but, along the way, discover all is not as it seems.
Author's note: Written for journeystory and inspired by the plot of the 1966 movie The Professionals. The beautiful banners and dividers were created by laisserais/laisserais. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta, if not the plotbunny.
Disclaimer: This story is a transformative work based on the Fox 21/FX Productions/Linson Entertainment/Sutter Ink television series Sons of Anarchy. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it.



Herman Kozik wiped his brow and settled his hat back on his head as he waited by the dusty little railroad halt. It had been a while since he’d been this far south—the Mexican border was less than ten miles away—and he’d forgotten how hot it could get.

Turning the other way, he squinted north along the railroad track, before fishing for his watch. By his reckoning, the train was a half hour late for the rendezvous laid out in the telegram tucked inside his coat pocket, but his watch might be fast just as much as the train might be slow.

The telegram, from one Jacob Hale and requesting Kozik’s services as a scout and tracker, had arrived as Kozik was kicking his heels in San Jose. Work had been thin the past few months and his funds were running low, so it hadn’t taken much thought for him to accept the invitation. Hale had even provided funds through his local agent for Kozik to make the journey to meet him “with all speed”, as well as the promise of a substantial cash payment for taking the job.

Just as Kozik was considering if he could trust Hale after all, he caught sight of a wisp of smoke on the horizon. It was followed a moment later by the sound of a whistle.

Ten minutes after that, Kozik was being welcomed aboard the passenger car at the rear of a private train by a middle-aged man with heavy jowls and gray hair. “Jake Hale,” the man explained, as he pumped Kozik’s hand. “Good to meet you, Mr Kozik. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Taking off his hat and trying to smooth down his hair as he followed Hale inside the car, Kozik wondered what he’d heard and who from—but he didn’t have to wonder for long. Slouched in one of the comfortable leather chairs that furnished the car, grinning up at him, was someone Kozik knew all too well, though he hadn’t seen him in over a year.

“I believe you know Mr Trager.” Hale waved toward Tig—his real name was Alexander, but Kozik reckoned only his mother called him that—even as the other man stood and enveloped Kozik in a bear hug.

“Kozik. Good to see you, brother,” Tig muttered, before he pulled back and held Kozik at arms’ length.

Kozik was about to ask him where the hell he’d been and what he’d been up to, but apparently Hale was keen to get to business, because he cleared his throat and, raising his voice over the creak and jolt of the train moving off, said, “This is Mr Jackson Teller and Mr Harry Winston.” He indicated the two other men in the car.

Both looked around ten years younger than Tig and Kozik. Teller was fair-haired, with an open smile and easy manner that Kozik suspected charmed the ladies. He reached forward to shake Kozik’s hand. “Jax,” he elaborated.

Winston turned out to be a veritable giant, his head almost touching the car ceiling as he unfurled himself from another chair. He sported an impressive beard and a mane of sandy red hair neatly tied back. He gave a slight shrug as he shook hands. “Opie. Or Ope.”

“Mr Winston here,” Hale clapped his hand on Opie’s back, before gesturing for him to sit down again, “is your explosives expert. Mr Kozik is your scout and tracker. Mr Trager specializes in….” He hesitated, apparently reluctant to use the word ‘assassination’ and gave a wry smile before continuing, “…quietly removing unwanted opposition. Mr Teller is a weapons expert and will be the leader of the group. If you decide to accept my proposal.”

Kozik took another look at Jax, wondering what made Hale put him in charge.

Tig had folded his arms and leaned his back against the side of the car. “So just what do you want the four of us to do that’s worth paying us ten thousand dollars? Each.”

Kozik smiled to himself: trust Tig to cut to the chase.

“Gentlemen.” Hale picked up a piece of paper from the small desk set against the wall. A map of the Sonoran desert was tacked above the desk, along with a photograph of a large group of men that seemed half-familiar to Kozik’s eyes. “Three days ago, my wife disappeared while riding on the outskirts of my ranch near here. Two days ago, I received this. Yesterday, after taking advice on the best men for the job, I contacted the four of you.” Hale paused, clearly a man used to commanding a room and with no little opinion of himself. He unfolded the piece of paper. “This is a ransom note for the return of my wife for one hundred thousand dollars. I will pay you ten thousand dollars each to rescue my wife from the man who took her and bring her home safe and sound.”

“And who is the man who took her?” Jax had rested one shoulder against the wall, his manner still outwardly relaxed but, Kozik noticed, his eyes had narrowed.

“Someone I believe all of you know by name, and some of you know rather better than that. Marcus Alvarez.”

Tig let out an oath as he pushed himself away from the side of the car. Kozik was too shocked to say anything. He recognized the photograph now, for sure. Somewhere on the right hand side, he’d find himself and Tig, back when they’d been younger and more idealistic and thought they could change the world, Kozik with his arm slung round the shoulders of the woman he’d tried hard to forget during the past three years. They’d all of them fought alongside Alvarez during the revolution, when he’d been been an officer in the Mexican resistance.

Tig had stepped up close to Hale, arms crossed, his eyes boring into the older man’s face. “You want us to go up against Alvarez?” he spat.

Hale didn’t step back, although he did lower his gaze, conceding Tig had a right to the question. “I do,” he said, his tone mild.

Opie and Jax were looking from Tig to Kozik and back again. Jax was the one to ask. “I take it you two know him?”

Tig was still glaring at Hale and didn’t seem likely to answer. Kozik shrugged. “Fought with him during the revolution. He’s a fine soldier.”

“Was a fine soldier,” Hale corrected. His gaze flicked up to Tig for a moment, before he added, “Since the failure of the little… uprising in which Mr Trager and Mr Kozik so nobly fought, Alvarez has turned bandit. Hijacking trains, plundering the homes and land of the campesinos he used to claim he was fighting for, killing anyone who gets in his way.” Hale opened the desk drawer and pulled out a half dozen newspaper clippings, holding them up for Tig and the others to see. From the other side of the car, Kozik could read the Spanish words for massacre, slaughter, destruction printed in large black letters. Hale threw the clippings down on the desk, on top of the ransom note he’d dropped there earlier. “Take a look, Mr Trager. Alvarez isn’t the man you fought with any more. These days, he’s nothing but a thug, lining his own pockets.”

Tig turned his head and let his gaze fall on the scattered papers, his expression growing grim.

Jax cleared his throat. “So why’d he kidnap your wife, Mr Hale?”

Hale shrugged. “My wife was born in Mexico. I have land and business interests there. I do business with the government. Alvarez no doubt thinks I’m a soft target. But he picked the wrong man, gentlemen.” Hale tapped the map, apparently having decided he’d presented sufficient evidence to Tig to overturn old loyalties. “Current intelligence tells me Alvarez is holed up here, ’bout a hundred miles across the border. Was a thriving hacienda until he got his hands on it.”

Tig had slumped back against the wall, mostly glowering up at their would-be-boss from under lowered brows but with his eyes occasionally sliding away to take another look at the newspaper headlines. He looked as near to having the stuffing knocked out of him as Kozik had ever seen. Kozik felt much the same. Alvarez might have been ruthless—some would say brutal—in his methods of dealing with the enemy, but his goals had been lofty ones: wanting to give his people a better life and throw off the repression of Diaz and his cronies. Kozik was having a hard time imagining him turning in the last three years into a petty brigand and kidnapper who was only interested in shaking down the nearest rich American.

Opie, watching the scene quietly, was busying his hands tying knots in what looked like a length of fuse. Jax, still regarding the map, scratched a thumb along his cheek. “How many men does Alvarez have?”

Hale seemed to relax a little at Jax’s question, perhaps thinking he’d already won his agreement to the mission. “Exactly the sort of question I’d expect from a graduate of the New Mexico Military Academy and a veteran of several engagements in the Border War, Mr Teller.”

Well, that explained why Hale wanted Jax in charge, Kozik thought; the academy turned out the finest army officers in the Western states, and Jax would be well schooled in a wide range of weapons and tactics.

Hale was still talking. “Around a hundred and fifty, we reckon.”

Jax turned and gave Hale a hard look. “And you expect the four of us to rescue your wife from an armed camp of a hundred and fifty men, across some of the worst mountain and salt-flat desert around?”

Hale shrugged. “Mr Teller, you know as well as I do that you could send half the US Army down there and they couldn’t do it. But four men with the skills and talent of you four gentlemen? You could be in and out and away with Mrs Hale before Alvarez has time to open his next bottle of tequila.”

Jax’s expression was unmoved. “I think you overestimate us, Mr Hale.”

“I think you underestimate your colleagues, Mr Teller. I told you: I made inquiries and I called on the best men for the job. Mr Trager and Mr Kozik here have as fine a reputation as you and Mr Winston, and they’ve fought with Alvarez. They know how he thinks, how he fights. There’s a thousand dollars each up front and all the supplies, equipment and horses you need. The other nine thousand will be paid once you’ve returned Mrs Hale safe and sound to her proper home.”

Jax regarded Hale for a moment longer, before sweeping a glance over the other three. He brought his attention back to Hale. “We need a moment to discuss this.”

Hale dipped his head. “Of course. I’ll just step outside. Take as long as you need.” Moving past the four of them, he opened the door to the open platform at the end of the car. The noise of the train swelled in for a moment, until Hale shut the door behind him.

Turning back to look at Jax, Kozik saw he was regarding Tig and himself thoughtfully. “How long were you in Mexico?”

Kozik glanced at Tig, before facing Jax again. “’Bout four years, give or take.”

Tig had arrived first, already a part of Alvarez’s company by the time Kozik crossed the border to join the revolutionaries. Both of them had been tempted by promises of money and a chance to do right by a people they’d seen suffering when they’d taken work in Mexico before the revolution—and, if truth be told, both of them had been attracted by the prospect of an honest fight or two. They’d met a few weeks later, when Kozik had been sent with some other recruits to strengthen Alvarez’s numbers.

Life had taught Kozik that some men you liked only so far as to pass a few hours in a bar getting drunk with them. Some you had enough confidence in to play them at cards. But there were few men you’d trust with your life. After fighting alongside Tig for a couple of months, Kozik had come to think he’d found such a friend. In the four years after that, they’d become closer than brothers, sharing everything—even the occasional girl in the early days, before Kozik had become a one-woman man.

Jax considered Kozik’s answer and then jerked his chin at him. “With Alvarez the whole time?”

“All but the first few weeks.” Kozik looked at him steadily, knowing Jax was sizing them up, just like Kozik himself had been sizing up Jax the whole time, trying to decide if he trusted this man to lead him into danger—and get him out of it.

Tig pushed off the wall and squared up to Jax. “You think we’re not up to the standards of a graduate of the New Mexico Military Academy?” he sneered.

Jax gave him a lazy smile, apparently not taking offense. “Just trying to decide if I should trust the glowing references you were given by our benefactor.” He gestured toward the door through which Hale had disappeared. Flicking a glance in Kozik’s direction, he added quietly, “Four years in the company of a man like Alvarez is a damn long time to stay alive. I reckon Hale knew what he was doing here.”

Tig snorted, but looked slightly mollified. Ignoring the snort, Jax turned and spread his hand over the map, as if measuring the distance with thumb and forefinger. Leaving his hand there, Jax twisted his head to look back at them. “And Hale’s right, gentlemen. We four can do this. Ope there can set charges that’ll make us look like we are half the damn US Army, if he’s a mind to. Or set up a diversion, or give us a means of escape. Kozik can tell us what’s ahead and who’s following behind. Both of you know how Alvarez thinks and where he’ll set his lookouts and guards—and Tig can take them out without raising the alarm. I know the area well enough to get us in and out.”

Opie’s fingers were busy forming the length of fuse in his hands into a loop. “Could be running our heads into a snare,” he remarked quietly. He held up a tiny noose. “But ten thousand dollars is a mighty tempting price.”

Jax switched his gaze to Kozik. Kozik shrugged. He’d been thinking about the money, too. He and Tig had spent most of the past three years just scraping by—he guessed Tig hadn’t fared much better than he had in the past year—and he was tired of it. More than that, it’d feel good to be part of a team like this again. “No risk, no reward, right, Tig?”

Tig raised his head at the sound of his name. Kozik could still see the doubt in his expression.

Seemed Jax could see it, too, and understood the reason for it as well as Kozik did. “So… you up for going up against Alvarez or not?” he asked quietly. “Eliminating him, if we have to?”

Tig went on looking at Kozik. The two of them had been brothers for a long time, but Alvarez had been something else. A mentor, a father figure, someone Tig had respected deeply and whose cause he’d been willing to die for. He’d lost all that when the revolution had fizzled out. Kozik knew that if Alvarez had become nothing more than a common crook, that wouldn’t sit well with Tig.

At last, Tig turned his head to face Jax and said, his tone reluctant, “If we have to, yeah. Yeah, I’m in.”



Kozik bent low over his horse’s neck, scanning the ground as he led the others through a shallow valley in the mountains. Not far ahead, the valley walls drew in, two outcrops of rocks thrusting forward from the hills on either side to form a narrow pass. He sat up and reined in his horse, taking a swig of water from his canteen as he waited for Jax to join him.

“Well?” Jax tipped his hat back a little, inviting Kozik to deliver whatever bad news had made him pause here. Kozik had already informed the others, several miles back, that they were following another group heading the same way. The other party was maybe two hours ahead—the salty sand that was everywhere, even in the mountains, had begun to cover the hoofprints, but only just—but there was no way to tell who they were from their tracks alone. It could be an innocent trade caravan, although there was no evidence of a baggage train of mules. It could be Alvarez’s men on patrol, even though they were still a long way from his headquarters. Or it could be local bandits looking for a soft target to rob.

Kozik, carefully screwing the cap back on his canteen and hanging it back on his saddle, was starting to favor the last option. “There were eight of ‘em before.” He met Jax’s gaze and held it. “Now there’s only six. The others headed down a gully to the left about a hundred yards back, just around a corner that puts them out of sight from here.”

Jax cocked an eyebrow. “Trying to get behind us?”

“That’d be my guess.” Kozik was already swinging down from his horse and pulling off his duster to make sure it didn’t hamper him. “And I reckon the others’ll be back along this way to say howdy in a few minutes.”

Jax followed him in dismounting and shucking his coat. He nodded at Tig and Opie as they came up, each of them leading a spare horse laden with supplies of various kinds. Opie also had a spare riding horse in tow, for Mrs Hale’s use on the return trip. “Turn ‘em and cut ‘em loose,” Jax ordered. The horses would stand patiently, ground tied, if the two groups passed each other peacefully. If the encounter didn’t go off quietly, the horses would likely bolt and need to be rounded up later, but wouldn’t hamper the rest of them if they needed to escape. “Ope, you stay with them. Make like you think one of them’s picked up a stone. Tig?” Jax pointed wordlessly to the outcrop to the right of the pass and Tig nodded to show he’d understood. Sliding from his horse, he slung his rifle over his back and quickly scrambled up the rocks to where he’d be able to fire on anyone coming through the pass.

Kozik stayed where he was, standing close to his horse—for cover and to hide the fact his hand was hovering over the six-shooter at his hip. His eyes scanned the cliffs, wondering if the men ahead or those who’d dropped behind were outflanking them. Jax stood next to him, thrumming with tension, his rifle hefted over his shoulder. Opie, his rifle on the ground by his feet where he could quickly snatch it up, was making a show of checking over the legs of the horse carrying the dynamite.

They’d only just gotten into position—a quick glance showing Kozik that Tig had settled himself behind the cover of a boulder—when they heard horses ahead. A moment later, a small group of riders emerged from the gap between the cliffs. A quick count told Kozik they were facing the six he expected.

The leader reined in his horse when he was a dozen yards away and doffed his hat. “Good afternoon, friends.” He spoke English, with an accent that suggested his mother tongue was Spanish.

“Good afternoon.” Jax tipped a half salute with a finger to his forehead.

The leader grinned widely. “You Americans? You lost?” He turned to share his amusement with the rest of his group, who had begun to fan themselves out across the valley: blocking the way and giving themselves room to shoot.

Kozik wasn’t fooled by the man’s amiable manner and neither, it seemed, was Jax: Kozik could feel the increased tension in him, though he sounded relaxed as he replied, “Just checking one of the horses and looking for a place to camp.”

“What’ve you got in those packs? Gold?” The leader nodded at the horses behind them.

Jax shook his head. “No gold. Just provisions.”

The leader grinned again. “Just as well. These mountains are very dangerous. There are many bandits ready to steal from unsuspecting Americans.”

As the man spoke, Jax muttered quietly, “Get ready,” but Kozik had already seen that the leader was moving his hat to cover his gun hand and hide that he was about to draw. Even as he finished speaking, his hand began to come up, but Jax and Kozik were faster. Jax swung his rifle down and fired, his bullet taking the leader’s horse in the chest. The horse reared, before coming crashing down, its rider underneath. An instant later, a shot from Kozik took out a man to the left.

Kozik felt a bullet zip past him in the other direction, too close for comfort, as the rest of the bandits returned fire. Luckily for Kozik and Jax, the bandits’ aim was wild, their horses swinging this way and that at the sound of the bullets ricocheting around the narrow valley. Another two Mexicans went down quickly, felled from above by Tig and the final two followed soon after, though Kozik wasn’t sure who had fired the bullets that killed them. Behind them, shots from Opie indicated that the men who’d peeled off a short way back had, as expected, come up to ambush them from the rear.

The echoes from the bullets died, silence rushing in to replace the cacophony of a few seconds earlier. A moment later, Tig waved his arm and yelled down, “All clear.”

Opie was making sure of their own horses, who had scattered a short way down the valley. In front of Kozik and Jax, a couple of the bandits’ horses had gone down in the melée and were twitching. The rest were milling anxiously beyond their fallen riders.

Jax jerked his head at Kozik and at Tig, who was scrambling back down the rocks. “Strip them down. Finish them off if you need to. The horses, too. We’ll bury them over there.” He indicated a patch of softer looking ground across which a shadow from the valley wall was starting to creep.

“Shouldn’t we take the horses?” Tig was reloading his rifle and checking it over.

Jax shook his head. “We can’t spare the feed and water. If we turn them loose, they’ll head back to their stables. And we’ll maybe face another pack like this.”

Kozik raised an eyebrow. “You think they were Alvarez’s men?”

Jax shrugged, slinging his rifle across his back and pulling his revolver from the holster at his hip. “Gonna find that out.”

“Jax?” Opie came up to them, the reins of the horses clutched in one hand and his rifle still ready in the other. He wore a shamefaced expression. “Got one of their horses, but the other took off before I could hit it.”

Jax pursed his lips, clearly not happy with the news. “Take a horse back along the trail half a mile and see if you can catch it. If not, come back and help these two.”

Opie nodded and, dropping the reins of the spare horses, swung himself into the saddle. Jax turned away and strode toward where the leader of the bandits lay. Kozik saw the man was still alive, if barely. Jax put his foot on the man’s chest and scowled down at him. “You one of Alvarez’s men?”

Tig slapped Kozik on the shoulder as he passed. “I’ll see to the horses. You check the men.”

Kozik nodded absently, still watching Jax but grateful that Tig had divided the work between them. Grateful that Tig still remembered that Kozik could be as cold-eyed as the next soldier when it came to finishing off someone who’d tried to kill him, but he’d never been able to stomach killing a dumb animal, whether dog or horse, that hadn’t done a moment’s harm in its life.

The leader of the bandits was scowling up at Jax. “I am not Alvarez’s man.” He turned his head and managed to spit at Jax’s feet.

“No?” Jax bent down “What’s your name?”

The man snorted. “Salazar. Hector Salazar. You gonna give me a grave marker?”

“He’s Calaveras.” Kozik had finally managed to propel himself into action, ignoring the report and squeal as Tig put the first horse down. Stepping past Jax, he squinted down at the other men. “I recognize the name. They're not part of Alvarez’s crew, just petty thugs. Alvarez used them once or twice for dirty jobs he didn’t want his men touching, but he swore they’d sell him out to the federales as soon as take his money.” Kozik angrily kicked out at the nearest body. “They’re what Alvarez said he’d never become.”

Salazar snorted. “Oh yes. Marcus is always so noble. Always told him he needed to be a cheating, lying bastard like me, or he’d end up in an early grave.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who’ll see the inside of a grave first.” Jax cocked his gun and put a bullet in Salazar’s chest. Salazar’s head fell back and his eyes rolled up.

An hour later, Kozik was sweating hard, but he’d made sure the rest of Salazar’s men were dead and, stripping them of anything that might be useful, had lined up their bodies along one side of the valley. Tig had used one of their own horses to haul the seven dead animals—including the one Opie had shot—into a heap nearby. Jax had been keeping a lookout and setting up a temporary camp, readying dinner for the other three. Now he glanced anxiously at his watch. “Ope should’ve been back by now.” He picked up his rifle. “I’m gonna check—.”

Even as he spoke, they heard the sound of a single horse further down the valley. Kozik dropped his shovel and scrabbled for his gun. A moment later, Opie appeared. Kozik let out the breath he’d been holding.

Opie dismounted and led his horse toward them. “Couldn’t find the one that bolted,” he admitted. “Did find something, though.” He jerked his head back in the direction he’d come from. “That gully back there. It’s pretty tight in places, but it leads right through these rocks. Would cut hours off our journey, I reckon. Could be mighty handy if we’re in a hurry on our way back.”

“It’d be the same for Alvarez,” Tig pointed out, taking a drink from his canteen. “You think he doesn’t know it’s there?”

Jax gave a dip of the head in acknowledgment. “Would stop him from getting ahead of us, at least,” he suggested.

“It could do more than that.” Opie was bending over the line of saddles and packs that Jax had earlier unshipped from the horses, which had been stacked to one side of the trail. He straightened, a bag of dynamite and a roll of fuse in his hands. “I can rig it so we can close it behind us.” He lifted up the dynamite and jabbed it toward the rocks above. “A few of these can move that mountain right where we want it. No faith required.”

Kozik exchanged a look with Tig. That’d certainly give them an advantage over Alvarez—and likely not one he’d be expecting. He’d not had much use for dynamite in the past, arguing it was too tricky to transport and use. Bullets are better, he’d always said, in those chats around the campfire. And machine guns best, eh, my friends?

“How long will it take?” Jax asked, rasping a thumb across the stubble on his cheek.

Opie shrugged. “An hour.”

Jax nodded at him. “Do it. Before the light goes. Kozik, go with him. Tig and I’ll finish up here.”



A day and a half later, Kozik lay on his stomach peering out over Alvarez’s camp. They had left the horses in the shelter of a remote, tumbledown barn that showed no sign any creature had visited in the past year or more, save perhaps for a few wild goats. From there, they’d hiked the final two miles on foot. Now they were hunkered down on top of a cliff that overlooked the valley containing the hacienda Alvarez had made home.

In the wavering light of several cooking fires, Kozik could see that the place was in poor repair. Holes had been knocked in some of the walls and half the roof was missing from the sprawling main building. Crude shelters, formed of blankets stretched over rickety frames of wood filched from the fallen roof, huddled around the remains of the walls.

Further along from where they lay, almost invisible in the near-darkness that hugged the ground outside the light cast by the fires and a few oil lamps, a guard was keeping a desultory look out, although he seemed more interested in whatever he was whittling from a scrap of wood than his surroundings. Across the valley, his counterpart could just be seen. He was lounging on one elbow, the firelight glinting off a bottle as he raised it to his lips now and then. A third guard paced restlessly at the top of a tower pockmarked with bullet holes that, lifting itself above the low huddle of buildings, had no doubt once provided the hacendado with a private study.

“See the machine gun?” Jax asked quietly, lowering his field glasses and pointing toward the top of the main building. “We’ll need to take out the gunner as well as the lookouts.”

On the other side of Kozik, Tig drew in a sharp breath. Kozik saw the reason himself, even as Tig extended a hand to point down at a man who had emerged from one end of the main building. “Alvarez,” he muttered.

Jax raised his field glasses and followed Alvarez as he crossed the courtyard toward a wide low basin where several of his gang were washing up. The basin was fed by a water tower on stilts just to their left that must, in turn, be fed by a spring further up the hillside from where they lay.

Kozik automatically translated the familiar Spanish phrases as Alvarez called out approving words to his men as he passed them—Good riding, today, eh, Miguel?—until he reached one of the figures bent over the basin. “Ten minutes,” he said, clapping a hand on a bare shoulder.

It was Kozik’s turn to draw in a sharp breath, his heart hammering in his chest, as the figure straightened, the light from a nearby lamp falling on a shapely half-naked form. The woman lifted her arms to push her hair back from her face and tie it back with a cord, unabashedly displaying her firm, full breasts for any who cared to look—and, oh, how Kozik cared to look, drinking in the sight after all these years. “Yes, yes,” she answered, her tone impatient. “I’ll be there.”

“Is that Mrs Hale,” Opie asked from Jax’s far side, his surprise evident in his voice.

“That, my friend,” Kozik informed him, propping his chin on his hands and gazing admiringly down at the woman as she finished washing and pulled her blouse back on over her head, the material clinging to her damp skin, “is a soldier. Alejandra López. One of Alvarez’s lieutenants. His best one, if you want my opinion. Not a woman to cross in battle—or in bed….”

Jax was giving him an amused look. “Old flame?”

Tig snorted quietly. “More like an old brushfire….”

That was true: the two of them had argued as often as they’d made love, and though Kozik had thought of her as his woman—had wanted to make her more than that—she’d kept him dangling. Made sure he knew she was still her own woman and would share her attentions where she pleased. Then the Revolution had fallen apart, and there was no place for Kozik and Tig in Mexico—and no place that Ally wanted on his side of the border. This is my land, she’d said, pointing to the ground below her feet as he’d tried to persuade her to come with him. The land of my father and my mother. Don not ask me to leave it for a land that is not mine….

“She Alvarez’s woman now?” Jax was tracking her through the field glasses as she headed into the main building, following Alvarez.

Kozik shrugged. “Doubt it. Ally could have any man she wanted in camp—and frequently did—and she could turn down any man she didn’t want, too. Anyone with half a brain learned to wait to be asked, or he might find himself at risk of losing more than his pride. But all the years we were here, I never saw her and Alvarez together like that. They were more like brother and sister, I guess.”

Jax had produced a pencil and notebook from an inside pocket. Flattening the notebook open on the ground in front of him with the hand holding the field glasses, he began to make a rough sketch of the layout of the camp below. “Where do you think they’re keeping Mrs Hale?”

“My guess would be on the second floor.” Tig nodded toward the corner of the building, where an upper room with a door leading out onto a roof terrace nestled against the base of the lookout tower. Lamplight was spilling out through the closed fretwork shutters. “Only one way in or out, except if you jump off that roof, and anyone up on the tower’s going to see someone trying to escape that way quick enough.”

“Seems fair.” Jax made a few more marks in his notebook before snapping it shut. “I think we’ve seen enough from here. Let’s take a look from the other side.” He gestured for Kozik to lead the way.

A weary trek later—they made a large circle around the end of the valley in which the hacienda lay, to make sure they weren’t spotted—the four of them were again examining the camp, but this time from the other direction. The change of view didn’t add a great deal to their knowledge, but it did furnish two bits of information that could prove crucial to the success of the mission. The first was that it would be possible to scale the main building and reach the roof terrace near the upper room using a number of casks and barrels stacked to the rear of the building.

The second was a little more evidence that their guess that Mrs Hale was being held in the upper room was likely correct. The double doors out on to the terrace had been flung open by the time they found a new vantage point, perhaps to let in the slight breeze that was freshening the humid night. From where they were crouched, they couldn’t see inside, but they could hear a woman’s voice as well as a man’s. At one point, a shadow cast across the terrace by someone standing in the doorway was unmistakably that of a woman; a man’s sharp tones called her back inside.

Kozik had already picked out Ally elsewhere, lounging with a group of men around one of the fires, laughing and sharing a bottle. While the other three discussed what they could see from this side, Kozik went on watching her, remembering the feel of her skin under his palms as they lay together, the taste of her as they kissed, the heat of her body wrapped around his when they made love—in the dark shadows in a corner of the camp, under the moonlight as it rippled across the open desert, by the flicker of firelight at the mouth of a mountain cave…. Anywhere and everywhere and always unforgettable….

After a while, Ally stood up, beckoning to one of the men around the fire; the two of them disappeared into the shadows together. A flash of anger surged through Kozik and he was halfway to his feet before Tig’s hand on his arm dragged him back down.

“Easy, boy,” Tig growled quietly.

Kozik huffed out a breath, remembering where they were. He nodded at Tig to show he’d come to his senses and Tig let go of his arm.

“Everything okay?” Jax was looking at them, concern on his face.

Tig nodded. “Yeah. Lover boy here’s just a bit over-excited.”

Jax snorted. “There’ll be time enough for that when we’ve collected our ten thousand dollars and are back in California.”

Kozik laughed quietly. Even after three years and all the women he’d been with, and all his efforts to forget, seemed he’d still got Ally under his skin. “But not a woman worth a damn to spend it on,” he commented to no one in particular.

“I’m sure—.” Jax broke off from what he’d been about to say and gestured toward the gateway into the courtyard. A dozen mules, each laden with heavy packs, were being led inside. A man by the fire nearest the gate pushed to his feet and started forward to greet the men leading the mules, while a boy scampered off in the opposite direction, toward the tower. A minute or two later, Alvarez appeared and strode across the courtyard toward the newcomers.

“Francisco,” he called. “How did it go?”

The leader of the mule-drivers turned and grinned at him. “Good,” he called back. Kozik craned forward, trying to catch the rest of what he said, as he gave his report in rapid Spanish. Fortunately, Alvarez’s crew seemed just as keen to hear the news and the men lounging around the courtyard had grown quiet.

“You getting this?” Jax hissed at Kozik. Kozik realized Jax’s Spanish probably wasn’t nearly as fluent as his own, even though his own had grown a little rusty in the past three years. He nodded in reply, before concentrating again on the conversation below.

After another minute, Alvarez slapped Francisco on the back and directed some of the men around the fires to lead the mules away. Those who’d driven the mules in made their way across to the kitchen area, where food was still being doled out.

“Well?” Jax was looking at Kozik, eyebrows raised.

Kozik shrugged. “From what I could make out, they raided a hacienda about fifty miles south east. They handed out nine tenths of what they stole to some campesinos west of here and the rest they brought back. And they only had to kill two men at the hacienda.”

Jax peered past Kozik, seeking confirmation from Tig. Tig shrugged. “Sounds about right to me.”

From Jax’s other side, Opie murmured in his slow way, “Didn’t Hale say Alvarez was lining his own pockets? Massacring peasants?”

“He did.” Jax’s tone was curt.

Below them, the courtyard had settled down again and Alvarez had vanished back inside the main building. Tig shifted restlessly. “Are we done here?”

“We are.” Jax had his notebook back in his coat. “Let’s go.”

Dawn was close, the sky just starting to pale, by the time they made it back to the barn. All seemed quiet, so they quickly settled down to sleep, each of them keeping watch in turn. By mid afternoon, all four of them were awake. With the horses and other camp necessities attended to, Jax called them together inside the shell of the barn.

He had sketched a larger version of his map on the wall in chalk, marking the main points of interest. “What we need to do, gentlemen,” he began, once he had their attention, “is to make it look like the federales are attacking—and from the opposite direction to the one we’ll be coming from.”

Tig, cleaning and checking his weapons, raised his eyebrows. “You want the four of us to look like a Mexican Army battalion?”

Jax smirked. “I do—and we can. Or at least Opie can.” He turned to Opie. “Your job is to rig the water tower so it looks like it’s been hit by a couple of rounds from a mountain gun. Tig, you need to take out the guard on the valley edge on this side and then use that vantage point to deal with the guard on the tower and the man on the machine gun once the water tower’s been blown. After that, you can start sending incendiaries into their ammo stores here, here and here.” Jax rapped his knuckles at various points on the diagram to indicate where he meant. “When that’s done, I’m sure the two of you can keep busy picking off any easy targets you see. Meanwhile, Kozik and I will deal with the guard on the other side of the hacienda and rescue Mrs Hale from this upper room. Any questions?”

“How long will it take to set the charges on the water tower?” Tig was already placing rows of ammunition in front of him, sorting and selecting the cartridges he wanted.

Opie shrugged. “Half an hour maybe. Can lay a fuse that’ll give you up to a half hour of burn once it’s lit.”

Tig nodded, his focus still on the ammunition, but apparently satisfied with the answer.

“Anything else?” Jax asked again.

“When?” Kozik had pulled out his own revolver and begun taking it apart to clean it.

“Tonight. We’ll set off at midnight, take the horses with us. We can leave them on the north side of the ridge. Should be at the hacienda by three, we can blow the place at four and be well clear by the time it’s light.” Jax took another look around the room. “Are we good?” Receiving their nods, he dipped his own head in acknowledgment. “Then, gentlemen, let’s get ready.”



Kozik crouched on the hillside above the hacienda, Jax at his side. His heart was still pounding from disposing of the lookout. He flexed his fingers, trying to rid them of the feeling of the garrote, and turned his head a little so he couldn’t see the body out of the corner of his eye. It was one thing to face a man across a battlefield—or even to lay an ambush that your opponent could reasonably expect—and shoot him at fifty paces, quickly and cleanly. It was quite another to creep up behind a fellow who had no idea his life was likely to end in a few minutes and hear his struggle for breath and feel his body bucking against yours as you choked the life out him. There was a reason, when they’d been with Alvarez, that Kozik had left the infiltration and close work to Tig as much as he could.

Jax silently tapped his watch, signaling that it was three minutes until the water tower was set to blow, and set off down the hillside, crouching low. Kozik followed, still scanning the camp for any sign they or the other two had been spotted.

Reaching the rear of the hacienda, they hunkered down in the shadow of a pile of crates, waiting. Another minute passed, long enough for Kozik to begin wondering about the charges, and then there was a dull boom from the far side of the camp, followed by the sound of timbers falling and alarmed shouts. Kozik ducked low, hands over his head, as a rain of splinters pattered down around them, while an unsteady red light sprang up beyond the building.

In the next instant, Jax was up on the crates and scrambling onto the roof. Kozik followed. The roof was scattered with fragments of wood from the water tower. From the corner of his eye, he saw a body fall from the hacienda’s tower and, among the babble of sounds, he heard a scream cut short: Tig was doing his job with his usual efficiency.

Down in the courtyard, men were tumbling out of the shelters, snatching up weapons, calling out to each other. Another explosion rocked the night as one of the ammo stores went up. Kozik—heart racing at the second, unexpected explosion—was half aware of a skein of squealing horses careering across the courtyard, creating further confusion as they passed.

Jax was already at the entrance to the upper room. Kozik joined him and cautiously pulled open one of the doors, while Jax pointed his pistol at the gap, ready to take on anyone inside. After a moment, he slid through the door, apparently not finding any immediate threat. With another glance over his shoulder to check their rear, Kozik followed.

Inside, a dark-haired woman was sitting up in the bed, the covers half thrown back, the dim light revealing a length of bare leg below the hem of the light robe she wore. “What—?” She stared, wide-eyed, at the two intruders.

“It’s all right, Mrs Hale.” Jax held out his hand to her. “Your husband sent us to rescue you.”

“My—?” She started up on to her knees, one hand drawing the neckline of her robe together. “No….”

“Mrs Hale, we don’t have time to waste. Please.” Jax stepped forward and grabbed her arm, dragging her from the bed, while Kozik crossed to the other door, the one that must lead out into the tower, and leaned close to listen. He couldn’t hear anything from right outside the door, though there were shouts from the floor below, and the sound of another explosion, further away.

Glancing back at Jax and Mrs Hale, he saw she’d tumbled to the floor. Jax was frowning down at her. “You are Mrs Hale?”

The woman glared up at him. “I am,” she confirmed haughtily, tipping up her chin and straightening her back.

“Then we’re here to rescue you.” Jax again tried to pull her to her feet, but she again resisted.

“Come on!” Kozik muttered, turning back to the door and straining his ears for any sound from outside. He still couldn’t hear anyone coming up the stairs, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

The sound of flesh smacking against flesh made him swing back. Jax was standing over the slumped body of Mrs Hale, his hand curled into a fist.

“What the—?” Kozik blinked.

“No time to argue.” Jax bent down and hoisted the limp woman over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” He headed for the door that led to the terrace.

Kozik hurried after him, his gaze darting from side to side once he got outside to check if they’d been spotted. The courtyard below was still in chaos, but no one appeared to be pointing in their direction. So far, so good. Scurrying ahead of Jax, he scrambled awkwardly down to the ground the same way they’d climbed up, before turning to allow Jax lower the still-unconscious Mrs Hale down to him.

Taking her weight, Kozik settled her onto his shoulder. The air around them was sharp with the tang of gunpowder and burning wood, but he caught a whiff of… jasmine, was it? It reminded him of the soap Ally had used, of breathing it in as he pulled her close, pressing his face into her neck, the two of them still trembling from the release of making love.

He forced the memory away and concentrated on making his way over the rough ground in front of him, trying to keep as low as possible as he climbed the hillside. Jax followed close behind, gun drawn.

Kozik was breathing hard, his shirt stuck to his skin with sweat, by the time they crested the hill and the hacienda dropped out of sight. Jax touched him on the arm. “I’ll take her for a while.”

Kozik nodded, glad to hand the burden over. Mrs Hale wasn’t the first woman he’d carried off—there’d been a few times when Ally, though clearly willing, had been enjoying teasing him with delaying tactics for longer than he’d been prepared to endure—but he’d usually only had to stagger as far as the next room or across to a pack roll spread a few feet away.

Mrs Hale moaned slightly as he passed her over, apparently coming round. Kozik wondered what kind of fireworks there’d be when she woke up properly. For the moment, the priority was to make their way back to the horses as quickly as possible.

As Jax set off in front, Kozik took up the rear, scanning behind them for any sign of pursuit. They’d gone another half mile when he thought he could hear the sound of someone following. He strained his ears. Yes, there it was again. Opening his mouth to warn Jax, he froze as the other man stopped and held up his hand. From ahead, Kozik could hear horses: a half dozen or more. How the hell did they find us? he wondered.

A moment later, two riders leading a string of animals appeared out of the dark. Kozik let out the breath he’d been holding as he recognized Tig and Opie.

“What happened?” Jax gasped out the question. “Why didn’t you wait—?”

“You’re being followed, partner.” Tig was already off his horse and helping Jax to lower Mrs Hale from his shoulder. “Someone came out on that roof terrace—looking for Mrs Hale, I guess. Yelled down into the courtyard and then took off up the hill after you.”

Jax cursed as he pushed Mrs Hale into Tig’s arms. She was waking up, eyes fluttering and flinching as Jax manhandled her. “Get her on a horse. We need to get moving before they catch up.”

“Too late, my friends.” The words coming out of the dark to one side made them all start and whip their heads round, looking for the source. The speaker took another step forward and Kozik saw in the faint moonlight that it was Alvarez. The light glinted off the pistol he carried.

“Four against one,” Jax pointed out, coolly raising his hands, knowing Opie and Kozik had their guns trained on Alvarez. Tig had his hands full holding on to Mrs Hale.

Alvarez grinned humorlessly. “You think the odds are in your favor?”

Jax shrugged. “I don’t hear anyone else. Let your men show themselves. Or let them shoot us from where they are.”

Alvarez hesitated, clearly at a loss.

Jax tilted his head in Tig’s direction. “Put Mrs Hale on a horse,” he instructed.

“No!” Alvarez lifted the muzzle of his gun a little, re-centering his aim on Jax’s head.

Jax shook his head. “We’re just here to do a job, Alvarez. Killing you isn’t part of the contract—but we’ll do it if we have to.”

“No!” That time the cry came from Mrs Hale. It was almost like the damn woman didn’t want to go back to her husband. Wrenching herself out of Tig’s grasp, she threw herself toward Alvarez.

He staggered back as she clung to him, murmuring a despairing, “Isabel….”

Tig was first to react, leaping forward after Mrs Hale and grasping Alvarez’s arm, wrenching it up and wrestling the gun from his hand. There was a flash and a bang as the gun went off, before it clattered away into the dark. A moment later, Tig had Alvarez on his back, the muzzle of his own gun pressed to Alvarez’s temple.

Jax had caught hold of Mrs Hale. He shoved her at Kozik, who did his best not to put his hands anywhere that would earn him a slap on the face as he grabbed hold of her. “Tie her hands and put her on a horse,” Jax ordered curtly. He turned back to the two men on the ground. “Tig?”

Alvarez was staring up at Tig. “You gonna do it, Trager? After all we’ve been through together? You gonna kill me?”

Mrs Hale turned her head away sharply, a sob escaping her, as Kozik finished tying her hands together with a length of cord Opie had passed down.

Tig didn’t move, his gaze locked with Alvarez’s. Then, with a curse, he reversed his gun in his hand and clubbed Alvarez across the head with it. Alvarez fell back with a grunt.

Mrs Hale turned back to stare at Alvarez as Tig got to his feet, her expression a mixture of relief and fear. Jax took a step forward. “We need to—.”

He broke off as Tig raised his gun and pointed it at him, though Tig’s finger wasn’t on the trigger. “No.”

Jax narrowed his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line, before he nodded brusquely. “Then let’s get out of here before anyone else finds us.” He turned away toward the horses.

Letting out a relieved breath of his own, Kozik began to drag Mrs Hale toward a horse. As he did so, his eyes met Tig’s.

“Not a word, brother. Not a word,” Tig growled, swinging away to mount his own horse.

Five minutes later, Alvarez lay alone under the lightening sky, the sound of hoofbeats fading into the distance.



The light grew as the line of horses picked their way through the hills, revealing the sparse shrubs, the rocks with their ever-shifting hues, and the salt flats running northward. It could be a cruel and dangerous place for those not used to it, but it had its own severe beauty; in an odd way, it reminded Kozik of Ally—and, like Ally, he’d missed it from time to time in his years in the north.

He glanced over his shoulder at Mrs Hale, who was clinging to the saddle horn with her bound hands as he led her horse along the trail. She glowered at him when he caught her eye; he guessed she couldn’t be very comfortable with nothing but that thin robe under her ass.

Kozik let his gaze drift past Mrs Hale to Opie, who was bringing up the rear. His horse had fallen back a distance and Kozik wondered for a moment if he’d seen something behind to worry them. Then he realized Opie was slumped in the saddle, one arm hanging, his head low.

“Hey!” Kozik faced forward to where, beyond the spare horses, Tig and Jax led the way. “Hold up. Something wrong with Opie.” Dropping the lead line of Mrs Hale’s horse, he rode back past her, heading for Opie.

As he got closer, he caught side of a dark stain on Opie’s jacket. “Goddammit.” Kozik hurried his horse into a longer stride, calling back over his shoulder, “Opie’s been hit.”

He’d barely reached the other man when another rider shot past him, up the trail the way they’d come. He heard an angry shout from Tig. Even so, it took him a second to realize the rider was Mrs Hale. “Oh no, you don’t,” Kozik muttered to himself as he spurred his horse after her.

Luckily for Kozik, Mrs Hale hadn’t gotten far or picked up much speed; he was quickly able to pull alongside and grab the reins, hauling her mount to a halt. She made to slide off the horse but he shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.” Turning their horses, he headed back to where Jax was helping Opie down.

“—gun went off,” Opie was saying, his voice weak. Kozik realized he must have caught the bullet in his arm from when Tig had been wrestling with Alvarez.

“Let’s take a look.” Jax lowered Opie to the ground, propped against a rock. He glanced up at the other two. “It’s a poor place to stop but we need to see to Ope, so might as well be here as later. Tig, you be our eyes and ears. Kozik, get Mrs Hale into those clothes we brought. And keep a close eye on her.”

Kozik nodded, swinging from his horse and dropping the reins to the ground. Pulling out his knife, he cut the cord he’d wrapped round Mrs Hale’s wrists, and then held out his hands to help her dismount. She looked down at him, a haughty expression on her face, as if planning to refuse his assistance. Then, sighing heavily, she leaned forward so he could grasp her around the waist and swing her down.

He’d been too busy when he’d been lifting her on to the horse to notice, but he found now, as she stood close to him with his hands still on her waist, that she was a tall woman—though not as tall as Ally—with curves that filled out her robe in a pleasing fashion. She gave him a disdainful look, making it clear she didn’t think much of the once-over he’d given her. Grinning, he let go of her and stepped past, pulling a bundle from the pack behind her saddle. He held it out to her. “Your husband sent these.”

She went on looking at him, not taking the bundle. He shoved it at her more firmly. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable if you change, ma’am.”

She finally brought her hands up to accept the bundle and began to unroll it. He stepped back, crossing his arms and regarding her. She looked up at him. “Are you going to watch me?” He noticed now that she spoke English with the slight accent of a native Spanish speaker and remembered that her husband had said she had been born in Mexico.

He was filled with a strong urge, for all she was their employer’s wife, to pay her back for being nothing but trouble the whole time she’d been with them. He smirked at her, jerking his head toward where Jax was examining Opie. “Boss there said to keep a close eye on you.”

Mrs Hale went on looking at him, one eyebrow arched. Kozik broke first, his cheeks coloring. “But I guess I could just watch your feet, ma’am,” he mumbled, lowering his head and pulling his hat down over his eyes. “Can’t run away without those.”

He thought he heard her mutter something in Spanish that sounded like, “Little boys and their big ideas and their little—” as she turned around and started to get changed. He suspected she’d get on rather well with Ally, and he was suddenly glad Ally wasn’t there to see what a pig he’d been.

When Mrs Hale had finished dressing, he caught her by the arm and turned to see what had become of Opie. Jax was kneeling beside him, folding cloth into wads to bind in place front and back. Opie’s face was pale and beaded with sweat.

Kozik cast a glance at Tig, still on horseback and watching the trail behind them, with the occasional anxious look in Opie’s direction, and then turned back to Jax. “How bad is it?”

Jax shrugged as he tied off the bandage. “Bullet went clean through, but he’s lost a deal of blood, and the wound could still go bad. We’ll clean it properly at the next stop, the other side of that dry river we crossed.” He gave Opie’s good shoulder a quick squeeze, before helping him haul himself back to his feet. “Kozik, you keep watching Mrs Hale. Tig, you take the rear. We’ll tie the pack horses to Ope’s saddle.”

Turning back to Mrs Hale, Kozik saw she was biting her lip thoughtfully as she watched Jax steer Opie toward his horse. “Time to go,” he told her, expecting more fireworks. But it seemed the fight had gone out of her, or she preferred not to have her hands tied again, because she let him boost her back on to her horse without any fuss. He found the hat her husband had also sent along and handed it to her. “Don’t try any funny business, or I’ll tie you to the saddle,” he warned as he mounted his own animal.

A minute later they were off again, Jax leading the way.

The sun grew higher and the heat unrelenting as they descended into the salt flats. Mrs Hale drooped in the saddle at Kozik’s side almost as listlessly as Opie just in front, while the horses plodded mile by weary mile through the plain. Kozik couldn’t help but wonder whether Alvarez and his crew were behind them and how much faster they were riding. The feeling grew on him and, as time wore on, he glanced behind him, beyond Tig, more and more often. Turning back after the third or fourth time, he saw Mrs Hale was watching him: she’d sloughed off some of her listlessness, her mouth curved up into a small smirk and her eyes bright with malice.

She tilted her head backward. “Marcus will catch us—and then he will kill you.”

Kozik pressed his lips into a thin line. “Maybe.” He faced ahead, determined not to look back again unless Tig drew his attention.

The sun was a couple of hours from noon by the time they crossed the dry river. A low bluff of rocks rose on the other side, worn by wind and water here and there into overhangs that provided a sliver of shade. Jax half carried Opie into one of the patches of shadow. When Kozik lifted Mrs Hale down from her horse, she sank down next to the two of them. The brief spark of energy had gone and she seemed more tired than ever, accepting the canteen Kozik handed to her with a grateful nod.

Taking the canteen back from her, he realized it might be more than the heat and lack of water that was troubling her. Moving away, he searched along the river bank a few feet before he found what he was looking for: a patch of pure salt from which the sand had been scoured. He pressed a little into his own mouth, before collecting enough for the others in his neckerchief.

Returning to Mrs Hale, he knelt down in front of her. “Here, ma’am, this will make you feel better.”

She looked at him dubiously for a moment, before accepting a little of the salt and gingerly tasting it.

Placing the rest of the salt next to Jax and Opie, Kozik got to his feet and went to help Tig with the horses. Glancing back at Mrs Hale as he worked, he saw she was looking between the four of them, a frown on her face. At last, she drew herself up. “You will never reach the border,” she informed them.

Jax, carefully easing the last of the bloodstained rags away from Opie’s shoulder, snorted.

Mrs Hale clasped her hands together. “Marcus will never let you take me back.”

“Wants his ransom, huh?” Jax carefully wet a clean piece of cloth and began dabbing at the wound. Opie winced.

“He wants me!” Mrs Hale declared.

All four of them turned to stare at her. There was silence, except for the whisper of the wind stirring up the sand, before Tig gritted out, “What are you to him?”

Mrs Hale tilted her chin up, her expression proud. “The woman he loves. As he is the man I love.”

Kozik blinked at her. Alvarez had once told him, with a laugh, when Kozik had asked him why he had no woman, that he was married to the revolution. Later, Tig had explained privately to Kozik that there had been a girl, a long time ago, who’d broken Alvarez’s heart; Alvarez had talked about her a few times, when he and Tig had been alone and he’d been in a melancholy mood, half-drunk on tequila. Which likely explained the way Tig was now staring at Mrs Hale with wide-eyed disbelief.

It was Jax who asked the question that hung in the air. “What about your husband?”

Opie groaned as Jax’s hand knocked against his shoulder, and Mrs Hale made an impatient noise and shuffled forward, batting Jax’s hand away and taking the rag from him. She began to carefully sponge Opie’s wound. “Mr Jacob Hale was my father’s friend. When my father was dying, he sold his hacienda to him and asked him to take care of me. I was nineteen.” She spoke softly, her voice colored with sorrow. “After my father died, Mr Hale told me he wished to marry me. I told him I could not. That I was in love with someone else.”

“Alvarez?” Jax was sitting back on his heels, watching her.

Mrs Hale nodded. “He was one of my father’s vaqueros, and it was a secret thing. My father did not know. Mr Hale told me it was my father’s dying wish I should marry him. Such a thing is—.” She looked up at Jax for a moment and Kozik saw there were tears in her eyes. She turned back to Opie. “It is hard for a daughter to go against her father’s wishes. And I was foolish. I met with Marcus, to tell him, and Jacob discovered us. He had Marcus whipped and driven out. Then Mr Hale took me to California and promised me he would be a good husband.”

She gestured for Jax to help Opie lean forward so she could clean the exit wound on his back. As she swabbed at the dried blood she added quietly but fiercely. “He lied. As he lies about everything.”

She went on working while the rest of them watched her in silence, digesting what she’d said.

Kozik had a hundred questions, but one seemed more pressing than the rest. “Why now? Why did Alvarez come for you now?”

Mrs Hale shrugged and sat back. She held out her hand to Jax. “You have clean dressings?” While Jax fumbled for them in the saddlebag resting by his knee, she looked at Kozik. “For many years, I tried to be a good wife. And Marcus, he tried to forget me, because I was married to another man and he thought I was rich and happy. And there was the Revolución to fight.”

She took the dressings from Jax and, covering the wounds front and back, began to bandage them into place. She gave a small, harsh laugh as she worked. “Then there was no more Revolución. And Marcus, who had become a great man in the fighting, learned through another friend of my father’s, who still did business with my husband, that I was not happy. And so we planned for my escape.”

Jax cocked an eyebrow. “And the ransom?”

“Money for the Revolución. To fight the federales and the rich Americans who treat our land the way Mr Hale treated me.” Mrs Hale sat back on her heels and gestured at Opie. “There. He will do.”

Tig peered at her suspiciously. “So why are you helping us? Why do you care if Opie lives or dies?”

“Because the longer he lives, the more he’ll slow us down.” Jax stood and, reaching down, hauled Mrs Hale to her feet and shoved her in Kozik’s direction. “You boys done?” When Kozik and Tig nodded at him, he said tersely, bending to help Opie up, “Then let’s go.”

Mrs Hale took a step back toward Jax, though she didn’t try to pull out of Kozik’s grip. He could feel her trembling. “You will send me back to Mr Jacob Hale, even now you know what kind of man he is?”

Jax, his arm around Opie, paused in guiding him back toward his horse. “With all due respect, Mrs Hale, we only have your word for that. And your husband told us plenty of stories that don’t put Alvarez in any better light. From what I heard, seems he got a taste during the revolution for living off the fruits of murder and plunder, and now he doesn’t care who suffers as long as he can live like a hacendado.”

“That is not true!” Mrs Hale took another step forward, yanking herself out of Kozik’s grip and raising her hand as if she was going to slap Jax. As Kozik caught her arms again and jerked them behind her, dragging her back, she added fiercely, “Marcus fights for the peones and the campesinos, always.”

Jax smirked at her. “Ma’am, we’ve seen the newspapers.”

“Government newspapers,” she spat back. “You believe them?” Jax exchanged a look with Opie and Mrs Hale seemed to take heart from it, because she said more quietly, her tone humble. “Do not take me back to that man. Please.”

Jax regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, before resuming his journey with Opie toward the horses. “Mr Hale is your husband, ma’am. And our employer. There’s nine thousand dollars waiting for each of us when we get back to the border with you.”

“And if Marcus were to pay you the same?” Mrs Hale drew herself straighter.

Jax, his back to her, shook his head as he and Opie reached the horses and Opie put his hand on the saddle horn. “I gave your husband my word, Mrs Hale, that I’d return you safe and sound to your home. We’re going on.”



The string of horses trudged on across the hot, dusty plain toward the mountains, while the sun climbed to its highest and then began to sink again. The breeze grew stronger, whipping up the sand; Kozik pulled his bandana up over his nose and mouth to keep the dust from choking him, and found a cloth to let Mrs Hale do the same. She rode with her head down: Jax’s decision to press on seemed to have finally knocked the fight out of her, and Kozik felt almost sorry for her. Either that, or she reckoned they were making slow enough going that Alvarez would catch them up before the border—and she might be right.

Kozik had accepted Jax’s decision to carry on; he wasn’t sure a shared past would count for much with Alvarez if he caught them up, after the mayhem they’d caused back at the hacienda. Yet Kozik kept turning over what Mrs Hale had told them, putting it together with what they’d seen and heard at the camp, with what Salazar had said before they’d finished him off, and with what he himself knew of Alvarez from fighting alongside him. That was apt to give you a good idea of a man’s true nature. Something somewhere wasn’t right, and no matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, the discrepancies nagged at him.

They were still less than halfway to the distant mountains when the first of the horses—Opie’s—went lame: perhaps the result of an unfortunate turn of the foot on the rough ground over which they were moving, or perhaps the animal, supplied by Mr Hale, simply wasn’t up to the job. Kozik helped Opie dismount and stripped off the saddle and pack, transferring it to one of the spare horses, while Jax held the reins of Mrs Hale’s horse and kept watch. Tig led the lame animal far enough off downwind that the smell of its blood wouldn’t trouble the others when he put it down.

“Should we bury it?” Tig asked, when he came back.

Jax shook his head. “No time, though we might as well send up a damn maroon to tell Alvarez which way we’ve gone, once the vultures find it. At least this wind should wipe out our tracks.”

“Marcus will know where to find you.” Mrs Hale’s words, the first she’d spoken in several hours, startled everyone. They turned to stare at her. “You cannot outrun him here. This is his home. He knows every rock and trail and arroyo. You will never reach the border.”

Jax eyed her levelly. “We’ll see.” He nodded at Kozik, who was back on his horse and confirming Opie was secure in the saddle. “You done? Then let’s go.” He threw Mrs Hale’s reins to Kozik, and then turned and headed toward the smudge of the mountains on the horizon.

The wind picked up even more as the afternoon wore on, the stinging sand growing harsher. The group huddled closer together, their pace slowing further as the horses battled against the force of the wind. Another one foundered and had to be put down, and the last of the spares was pressed into service.

“You think we’ll need to stop? Build a shelter and hole up?” Tig asked, hollering over the howling wind as he screwed the cap back on his canteen at the next pause for water.

Jax squinted past him, at the dust filled air that made it impossible to see more than a half mile now. Alvarez and his crew could be out there and bearing down on them and they wouldn’t see them until it was too late. Only good thing was that Alvarez would have a hard time finding them in this murk. Jax looked back at Tig and shook his head. “Shouldn’t get that bad. But we should walk the horses for a while. Easier on them and us.”

It grew darker and darker inside the swirling sand, and Kozik began to lose all sense of time, wondering if night had already fallen. Yet it was still around an hour before sunset when the wind finally slackened and the air cleared. Away to his left as they remounted, the sun was an orange ball low on a horizon streaked with reddened clouds. Ahead of them, the mountains had revealed themselves, looming welcomingly close.

Kozik made ready to move off, but paused when he saw Jax had his field glasses out, scanning the rising ground ahead of them. He went on looking through the glasses for so long that Kozik opened his mouth to remind him they needed to get moving—but even as he did so, Jax seemed to find what he was looking for. Tucking the glasses away, he began to lead the string forward, angling their course in a slightly different direction. Kozik realized he’d been looking for the start of the trail up to the narrow gully that Opie had rigged a few days ago.

The five of them rode on in silence for another ten minutes, until a sharp whistle from Tig, still at the rear, made the rest of them turn. He was gesturing behind them. “Alvarez,” he yelled in explanation, digging his spurs into his horse’s flanks so it shot forward.

Kozik did the same, dragging Mrs Hale’s horse along with him and giving Opie’s horse a slap on the rump as they caught him up. Seconds later, the whole group was racing pell-mell toward the mountains, Kozik praying Jax was right about the direction he was leading them. If they made it through the gully, they could cut off the pursuit. If Jax led them wrong, they’d be in a whole heap of trouble.

The next fifteen minutes seemed among the longest of Kozik’s life as they hurtled forward at reckless speed, at every moment at risk of any one of their horses stumbling and going down. A glance over his shoulder as they finally began to hurry up the short slope that led up to the base of the cliffs showed him that the riders behind had nearly halved the distance between the two groups. A couple of bullets smacking into the earth only a hundred yards to their rear was proof that it would be an uncomfortably close thing.

Then Jax was leading them into the gully, the clatter of hooves echoing loudly off the rock faces looming over them on either side. At the rear, Tig fired a few shots in an effort to hold off the pursuit, until the trail took the first of its many turns, hiding them from those following. Then they were deep in the heart of the twisting trail.

The passage seemed even tighter than Kozik remembered from when he’d helped Opie wire it, his knees nearly brushing the rock on either side. Glancing up, he spotted the overhang under which Opie had planted several bundles of dynamite. Beyond and high above their heads, nearly invisible in the half-dark unless you knew to look for it, the fuse ran toward the far end of the gully, pinned to the rock a few feet below the cliff edge.

Jax was already swinging off his horse and groping in his pocket for matches when Kozik emerged from between the narrow walls, dragging Mrs Hale’s horse behind him. As Tig followed them out, Jax ran back toward the entrance and, striking a match against the rock, applied the flame to the end of the fuse that dangled down at head height. Kozik watched anxiously as the spark fizzled upward and then along the gully wall until it passed out of sight.

“Two minutes, Ope?” Jax called back over his shoulder as he pulled out his revolver and checked the chamber. “That’s what you said, right?”

“Yeah.” Opie’s reply was barely audible.

Dropping from his horse, Kozik shucked his coat and pulled out his rifle, stepping up next to Jax and taking aim, ready to fire on any rider who might make it through the gully before the dynamite blew. Tig did the same. As they waited, Kozik tried to calm his racing heart and slow his breathing. In the distance, he could hear horses and men shouting to each other.

Then the air shook with a loud boom and a cacophony of falling rock. A cloud of dust rolled out toward them. The sound seemed to go on forever, but at last it died away in a final patter of small pebbles.

They waited, but no one emerged from the gully. Kozik thought he could hear voices, but they were so faint he wasn’t sure if they were real or if he was simply imagining them. No matter: whether their pursuers were trapped underneath the rock slide or simply stuck on the other side, they’d bought themselves some breathing room.

Jax holstered his gun. “Let’s hope the bastards are buried underneath,” he remarked. ”If not, we’ve five or six hours before they get here the long way.” He gestured down the main trail leading from the south. “We’ll ride a ways further and then rest the horses a while. Might be enough to keep them alive until the border.”

Kozik began to turn away, following Jax back toward the horses, but he saw Tig was still staring at the blocked gully. Kozik touched his arm. “Hey, brother. Time to go.”

Tig went on looking at the entrance to the gully, now only a darker smudge among the shadows in the advancing dusk. “You think he’s dead?”

Kozik gripped his shoulder. “You know Alvarez. Luck of the devil, that one. Come on.” He tugged at Tig’s shoulder and, slowly, casting a final look back at the gully, Tig came with him.

Tig was still sunk in thought when they stopped to rest a half dozen miles further on. Night had fallen and it was growing chilly. Jax helped Opie off his horse and laid him down to rest, while Mrs Hale dropped wearily on to a rock, her arms wrapped around her, turned in on herself. Tig and Kozik saw to the horses.

The animals stood dejectedly, heads hanging, as Tig and Kozik unsaddled them and gave them as much water and feed as could be spared. None would be fit for work again, even assuming they survived the trip. Running a regretful hand down a strong neck, Koz bent to check the animal’s legs and feet, determining if they needed to cut their losses now or if the horse could carry them a little further.

Tig, doing the same to the next horse along, said quietly, “You been thinkin’ any on what she said?” He nodded his head in Mrs Hale’s direction. Jax had lit a small fire and the flames cast enough light for Kozik to see that her face was wet with silent tears.

Kozik gave a rueful laugh as he carefully ran his fingers over the sole of the hoof upturned in his hands. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking plenty. Hasn’t done much good.” He dropped the hoof and straightened, resting a hand on the horse’s withers and meeting Tig’s gaze. “You changing your mind about taking her back?”

“Maybe.” Tig shrugged. “Been thinking about Alvarez too, and all that hooey Hale told us to get us down here. Didn’t sound much like the Alvarez we knew, but… people change. ‘Cept, based on what we saw back there, I don’t think he has changed.”

Kozik nodded. Nothing they’d seen or heard since they’d crossed the border had suggested Alvarez was any different. “So what made you say yes to Hale?”

Tig snorted. “What made you? Ten thousand dollars, that’s what.” He scuffed his toe in the dirt. “And I guess I never really thought about what going up against Alvarez meant. Never thought it’d come to….” He fell silent.

Kozik turned his head away. There wasn’t anything he could say, and he didn’t want Tig to feel he was staring. His gaze fell on Mrs Hale again. What had her life been like that she’d throw away the comforts of being a rich man’s wife for a makeshift camp in a hacienda that had seen decidedly better days and a childhood sweetheart she hadn’t seen in the best part of ten years? He reckoned he could guess some of it: the way Hale had summoned the four of them and laid out his proposal, it was clear he was a man used to having his orders obeyed and his every wish fulfilled, and didn’t take kindly to a refusal.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I’m thinking Hale paid us to rescue his wife because he knew he wouldn’t get her back whether he paid the ransom or not. Because he never really had her.”

“Uh-huh.” Tig crossed his arms, eyeing Mrs Hale as well. “That sounds about the size of it. And what do you think he’s going to do to her when he does get her back?”

Kozik scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck, wishing that those ten thousand dollars hadn’t seemed so appealing and that he wasn’t mixed up in this mess. “You wanna talk to Jax ‘bout this?”

“Yeah. I do.” Squaring his shoulders, Tig marched over to where Jax was kneeling by the fire, brewing coffee. He looked up as Tig approached, one eyebrow raised. Tig jerked his head toward Kozik, a pace behind him. “Me and Kozik here. We’ve been wondering. Are we doing the right thing here?”

Jax’s movements stilled and he regarded Tig for a long moment, head tipped back, the silence broken only by the crackle of the flames. At last he said quietly, “You mean, keeping our word and making sure we each get paid our nine thousand dollars by ensuring Mrs Hale is returned safe home?”

Kozik stepped up at Tig’s shoulder. “Will it be safe?”

Jax gave Kozik the same kind of careful scrutiny he’d given Tig a moment earlier. Then, still not speaking, he leaned forward and poured some of the coffee into a tin cup. Getting to his feet, he regarded the two of them levelly. “Let’s just see if we can make it to the border before we come to a decision, shall we, gentlemen?” Not waiting for a reply, he turned away and carried the coffee over to Opie.



Jax had them on their way again two hours later, moving slowly through the dark along the rocky mountain trail. Neither they nor the horses were much rested, but they all knew that Alvarez’s horses would be fitter, better able to stand the brutal pace, and that each of his men would have brought a spare horse and switched between them. He’d be eating into the distance between them with every pace.

They had to put down another horse just after midnight. After that Jax, Tig and Kozik took turns to walk. It was easy enough—too easy—for the man on foot to keep pace with the weary mounts as they trudged along. Still, they made some progress. By the time the rising sun started to gild the rocky heights above them and reveal the trail ahead, they’d gone another twenty miles and more than halved the distance to the border. Another spark of good news: though there was a gray cast to Opie’s face, he didn’t seem to be running much of a fever.

At the next stop for water, when it was fully light, Jax handed his field glasses to Kozik and had him scramble up to the top of an outcrop that rose a little higher than its neighbors. “Well?” he demanded, as Kozik slithered back down.

Kozik shook his head. “Nothing. Doesn’t mean they aren’t out there.” The trail wound too much for him to be able to see all of it. He hadn’t been able to hear any sounds of pursuit, though. And ahead of them, between the ridges and peaks that rose in the other direction, he’d caught a glimpse of the wide valley across which the border ran, ruler straight and largely unmarked. Somewhere out there was the bridge they’d crossed less than a week before, with its scatter of half-derelict buildings on either side, where Hale would be waiting for them. With any luck, they might reach it by noon.

Jax held out a canteen. “Take the freshest horse and ride ahead and check again. Wait for us to catch up.”

Kozik nodded, slugging down a gulp of water and handing the canteen back. He’d have more chance of spotting any pursuit if he could watch a while. Casting his eye over the horses that were left, he stepped up next to the one Mrs Hale had been riding. “Sorry, ma’am. Yours is freshest.”

She hadn’t spoken since Jax had made the decision to carry on for the border, only nodding to acknowledge the food and water they passed to her. Now she ran her tongue over her lips, wetting them. “Leave me here,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Leave me and go on. It will be enough for Marcus that he finds me. He will not follow you.”

“I can’t do that, ma’am.” Kozik gathered up the reins. “We don’t know for sure Alvarez is following. There may be no one to find you. Or someone else could find you first.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I would rather die than go back to my husband.”

Kozik swung himself into the saddle and looked down at her. “And I won’t have your death on my conscience, ma’am.” He looked across at Jax, holding his gaze for a moment before adding, “None of us will.” Turning the tired animal, he urged it to make the best speed it could along the trail.

Twenty minutes later, he was working his way up a rocky outcrop that stretched a few feet more toward the sky than those on either side. Reaching the top, he pulled out Jax’s field glasses and began surveying what he could see of the trail behind. For several long minutes, he saw nothing. Then, in the far distance, where the rocks shimmered in the dusty air, he caught another kind of movement. He fiddled with the knob of the field glasses. The view blurred for a moment, before leaping sharply into focus: three or four small figures on horseback picking their way down the trail. Not moving quickly, but moving more quickly than the group they were pursuing: Kozik estimated they’d catch them up in an hour or so.

In the other direction, the border was still at least two hours away, maybe three.

Down below him on the trail, Jax appeared, walking at the head of the weary band. Slinging the field glasses back around his neck, Kozik slithered back down the rocks to meet them. His face must have give away the news, because he was still a dozen yards away when Jax asked tersely, “Company?”

Kozik nodded. “And moving fast. They’ll be on us in an hour.”

Jax looked past Kozik, clearly making the same calculation about how far it was to the border, before he turned and surveyed the group behind. Opie, sweat beading on his brow, gave an embarrassed shrug when he met Jax’s gaze. “Why don’t we just do what she suggested? Leave her here? If Alvarez gets her back, maybe it’ll be enough.”

“And what if it’s not Alvarez?” Kozik pointed out quietly. “You want to leave her to any passing bandido? You happy to live with that?”

“And if we let them close enough to find out, there won’t be time to escape.” Tig, leading Mrs Hale’s horse alongside his own, came to a stop next to Opie. Kozik saw she was sunk in on herself again; even the possibility they might do as she’d asked and leave her behind for Alvarez to find didn’t rouse her from her dejection.

“And Alvarez may follow anyway,” Jax added flatly. “We’ve cost him enough blood and trouble, he may not let this go. Besides, if he catches up, she’s our best bargaining chip. Alvarez won’t want to risk her getting hurt in the crossfire. No.” He swung his rifle from his shoulder and took another look around. “We need to find a place to dig in and make a stand, and I reckon this is as good as any. We’ll be out of these hills soon and then it’s open ground to the border.”

Tig had swung down from his horse and was now fumbling to unbuckle a bag slung behind the saddle on the horse Mrs Hale was riding; it held half their remaining ammunition. “Reckon one man could do it,” he remarked to no one in particular. “Hold ‘em off long enough for the rest to make it across. Maybe even live to tell the tale.”

Kozik had been turning away to bring the other horse up, but he stopped, his eyes narrowed as he regarded Tig. “And you’re the man to do it?”

“Why not?” The ammunition bag came free and Tig slung it over his shoulder. He met Kozik’s gaze, a little swagger in his stance—or maybe it was bravado—as he added, “Reckon I could have them all down before they knew what they were walking into, if I’d a mind.”

Kozik wouldn’t have disputed the claim—except for one thing. He stepped up close. “Even Alvarez?” As Tig’s gaze flickered away, discomfort in his eyes, Kozik pressed on, “You’ve come close to killing him twice already, brother, and you weren’t willing to finish the job. What makes you think it’d be different a third time?” Not waiting for an answer, he pulled the ammunition bag from Tig’s shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

Tig looked up again, his mouth open, ready to voice the denial Kozik could already read in his eyes. Kozik was faster. “You make sure Mrs Hale gets home and we get paid.”

Tig gave him a long, doubtful look and then finally nodded. He held out his rifle to Kozik. “Here, take this.” As Kozik accepted it, he added, “You better get your ass back to that border when you’re done, because I’m gonna be picking up your share of our reward along with my own.”

Kozik grinned weakly. “I hear you.”

With a slap of his hand on Kozik’s shoulder, Tig stepped past him and remounted.

Kozik, turning away to collect a canteen from the other horse, found Jax watching him. “You sure about this?”

Kozik had rarely been less sure he wanted to do anything in his life, but he didn’t see they had much choice. This way, there was a slim chance he could reason with Alvarez and they could all walk away alive. If all four of them stayed, or if Alvarez caught up with them out on the plain, there’d be too many fingers on too many triggers for it to end any way but unhappily. “Better three of us make it out than none of us,” he offered. “And I ain’t dying if I can help it, so you’d better all wait up once you cross the border.”

“Will do.” Jax touched a finger to his forehead in salute.

“Take the horse.” Kozik, gathering the canteen and some rations, took a pace back. “You’ll need it if Alvarez makes it past me. And if he doesn’t, I’ll have time enough to make it back on foot.”

Jax nodded. Without another word, he swung up into the saddle and followed the other three, already heading on down the trail.

Kozik watched the dwindling figures for a moment, wondering if he’d ever see them again. There’d been a time when he and Tig had been sick of the sight of each other, after they’d spent a year prospecting and wildcatting together near Stockton that had produced not so much of a sniff of gold, real or black. Kozik had been glad when an offer from a Pinkerton’s man to track down a fugitive had given him an excuse to leave.

Of course, he’d regretted the decision within a month, but by the time he made his way back to Stockton, Tig was gone. If nothing else, this crazy adventure had at least given him a chance to fight at Tig’s side one more time.

With a last look in Tig’s direction, Kozik turned away and began scouring the rock faces around him, looking for the best vantage point from which to launch an ambush.

He spotted a chimney of rock rising above an out-thrust shoulder around which the trail turned. Climbing up, he confirmed the spot gave him a view for some way both up and down the trail, as well as cover behind the pillar from either direction. He settled himself in place, passing the time while he waited for their pursuers in checking the magazines of both rifles were full and that there were bullets in all the chambers of his revolver.

With everything ready, the minutes ticked by slowly and he had time to think—too much time. Tig couldn’t kill Alvarez, for sure, but would he be able to do it himself? He hadn’t been as close to Alvarez as Tig, but they’d ridden together, fought shoulder to shoulder, gotten drunk on tequila after the battle was over….

The thought of Alvarex putting a bullet in Tig’s back strengthened Kozik’s resolve. In a choice between the two of them, it was no contest, and he only had to remind himself of that to stiffen his resolve.

The sound of horses in the distance brought him back to the present and he rolled over onto his stomach, his own rifle ready. The riders rounded the corner. There were four of them and eight horses. Alvarez rode second from left and slightly in the lead, his head turning from side to side as he restlessly scanned the trail ahead. Kozik took aim at the rider to his left, confirming the man’s face unknown to him. Ignoring the others for the present— although something familiar about the rider on Alvarez’s other side nagged at him—he drew in a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

The bullet caught the man square in the chest. He lurched sideways as he fell from the saddle, sending his horse jostling into Alvarez’s. Alvarez’s horse also jinked, half turning as Alvarez, controlling it only with his knees, raised his rifle. The other two riders also had their guns up, searching for a target, but Kozik had the advantage of higher ground, a clear view and surprise. He got his second shot off before any the group below had a chance to find him and return fire, this time aiming for the rider to the far right.

The man let out a strangled cry as he toppled from his horse, flinging his arms wide as he fell. He must have had his finger on the trigger of his gun, or maybe it went off when it hit the ground, because there was a loud bang. A horse squealed as, behind the group, the spares fought to turn and break the traces that held them.

Then Kozik was ducking as a bullet smacked into the rock uncomfortably close to his head. He slid back a few inches before cautiously peering over the edge at the scene below.

To his surprise, Alvarez was down from his horse, as was the fourth rider, though Kozik was having a hard time seeing what was happening through the horses milling between him and the pair. He saw Alvarez half lurch to his feet and then fall back to his knees, before his companion caught him under the shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged him behind the shelter of a twist of rock. Just as they ducked out of sight, Kozik caught a glimpse of a dusty profile. His heart lurched as he recognized it.

Ally.

Kozik rolled on his back, gasping for air. He’d almost shot her. If he’d had a moment longer or chosen differently, he would’ve shot her. All that plump warm flesh, eager under a man’s touch—under his touch—would have been forever cold, and those bright eyes sparkling with wicked thoughts would have stared sightlessly at the pitiless sky…. He took another gasping breath and another. Goddammit. It should have been no surprise to find her riding at Alvarez’s side, and yet….

A moment longer, and then he gathered his wits together. There were still two of them out there, and they’d be ready to kill him if he didn’t kill them first—or talk them into giving up the chase. He rolled back on to his stomach and, rifle at the ready and with a glance upward to make sure they weren’t already trying to outflank him, crept forward again and peered down at the trail. The horses were still milling about, but there was no sign of Alvarez or Ally.

“Hey, Alvarez, you old bastard,” he called in Spanish. Remembering that Alvarez had needed Ally’s help to make it to safety, he added, “You hurt?”

There was a long silence and then Alvarez’s voice floated back. “Kozik, you son of a whore. Is that you?”

“Uh-huh.” Kozik thought Alvarez’s voice had come from only the other side of the outcrop behind which Ally had dragged him. He wriggled a short way forward and was rewarded with a glimpse of a booted foot—Alvarez’s, he guessed—poking out an inch or two beyond the rock.

He took another look up, wondering if there was a foot in the boot, or if Ally was creeping through the rocks while Alvarez kept him busy talking. The trick, of course, was to keep Alvarez occupied for long enough for the others to reach the border. Drawing the back of his hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat, he called back. “So, did I hit you?”

Alvarez laughed. “No. I think Francisco did, when he fell. Were you aiming for me? You never could shoot straight.”

“Straight enough your men knew about it,” Kozik fired back. He fell silent, his ears straining for any movement from Alvarez’s direction. After a moment, he thought he caught the sound of loose pebbles rolling down the slope on the far side of the cliff that towered above him. Pulling his revolver from its holster, he turned on his side and squinted up at the cliff edge, gun ready.

“You alone, Kozik?” Alvarez called. “You seem like you’re alone….”

Kozik ignored him, watching the rocks above, sure now that Ally was trying to get the jump on him. He snorted quietly to himself as the thought struck him that the last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but that she might have no such compunction, for all they’d meant to each other during his time in Mexico. She was tough as nails and it was half the reason he’d fallen in love with her.

Alvarez was still speaking, clearly trying to provoke a reply or keep Kozik off kilter. “You are the one they left behind to die, eh? While they collect their money and spend it on girls and whiskey and—”

Kozik didn’t hear what else the others would be spending their money on. He’d caught movement at the top of the cliff. Deliberately aiming a foot or so below the cliff edge but right underneath where he’d seen that flicker of life, he fired. The bullet smacked into the rock, scattering chips. There was a small—and decidedly feminine—oof of surprise and the sound of something or someone sliding down the slope. He guessed Ally had dropped so quickly at the sound of the bullet she’d lost her footing.

He leaned sideways a little, checking that Alvarez’s foot, or his boot, at least, was still in the same place. “I volunteered,” he shouted back. “Wanted one last glimpse of the lovely Lieutenant López.”

There was a loud snort from somewhere on the far slope. “You miss me, Kozik?” She sounded cross: the kind of cross that could find a man backed up against a wall in the dark with a loaded pistol pressed up against a chin—or backed up against the same wall with her hands reaching greedily into his pants and her riding skirt round her ankles.

“Always, baby,” he called back, a shiver running through him at the memories. Groping in his vest pocket, he pulled out his watch and checked the time. Another hour at least. Could he keep them talking that long? Shoving the watch back into his pocket, he again checked Alvarez’s position and the slope above him while he went on talking. “Specially at nights when I like awake and think ‘bout you and me and that cave up in the mountains.”

Another earthy chuckle from Ally. “Good times, eh, Kozik?” Her voice came from further away than before, as if she was making her way back down the slope to Alvarez. “You miss me enough to want to come get some of that good stuff now?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare, baby.” Kozik turned and settled himself with his back against the rock pillar, confident now that he knew where Alvarez and Ally were and that he’d be able to get a shot off at anyone coming down the trail or over the ridge above before they could take aim at him.

Ally didn’t reply. Silence fell: the horses were standing still now, waiting patiently, having drifted a few yards back down the trail away from Kozik’s position. Occasionally one shifted, with a faint jingle from saddle or bridle, or blew a sharp breath, but otherwise it was quiet. Kozik was happy to wait: every minute that passed meant Tig and the others were a minute closer to the border and there was less need for any of the three of them stuck here to end up dead.

He didn’t relax, though, his hands busy loading a bullet into the empty chamber in his revolver. At the limits of hearing, he thought he could hear Alvarez and Ally talking. Alvarez’s boot moved slightly once or twice, proving he was still wearing it. That he was still lying in the same place and not back on his feet yet suggested his injury was serious—perhaps serious enough that every minute might now be worth double in the chase if they did get past Kozik but Alvarez could no longer ride as hard as before.

That still left the small problem of Kozik getting out of here with his skin in one piece.

A moment later, he tensed as he saw movement beyond the horses, and raised his revolver, ready to fire. It was Ally, keeping the animals between him and her, so he didn’t have a clear shot. After a moment, Kozik realized she’d caught up the traces tying the spare horses together and was leading them back along the trail, out of sight. The three loose horses with saddles followed; the fourth must have taken off during the initial exchange of fire. What were she and Alvarez up to?

Before he could do more than hope they were planning to turn around and head home empty handed, Alvarez called out, “Hey, friend, you still there?” From the direction of his voice, he hadn’t moved.

“Uh-huh.” Kozik leaned sideways slightly, trying to peer back up the trail, though he didn’t have much hope he’d catch sight of whatever Ally was doing.

“You got a cigarillo for an old friend?” Alvarez sounded tired.

“Sorry, buddy, I’m out.” It was the sad truth; he wouldn’t have minded a smoke himself just then, to pass the time and calm his nerves.

“Too bad.” Alvarez’s tone was equally regretful. There was a pause and then he asked, “So what brings you to this place?”

“Oh, you know.” Kozik shifted back, wiping his gun hand on his pants. “Money. Adventure.”

Alvarez laughed. “So, much like the Revolución, eh?”

Kozik smiled to himself. “Except there wasn’t much money in the end, if I recall.” He and Tig had lived well enough during the fighting, but they’d come out as broke as they’d gone in.

“There never is.” Another silence—another minute closer to safety for Tig and the others, Kozik reminded himself—before Alvarez spoke again. “Mr Hale. He is a friend of yours?”

Kozik shook his head, though Alvarez couldn’t see. “Never met him until the day he hired me.”

“I know him.” Alvarez’s tone had grown harder. “I know what he did to my Isabel. He is not a good man, my friend.”

“I heard.” Kozik took another glance up, wondering where Ally had gotten herself to. Alvarez seemed rather too keen on making idle conversation for a man who’d tracked them nearly a hundred miles. It smelled like a diversion. Maybe Ally was circling through the rocks above, ready to sneak up on him from the other side.

With another quick check that there was no obvious danger from Alvarez’s direction, Kozik shuffled sideways a few feet until he could lean out and take a cautious look up the trail in the opposite direction. There was no sign of movement.

Alvarez was talking again. “My Isabel, she is quite a woman. I think you will have found that out this past day, no?”

Kozik didn’t answer, straining his ears for any sound that might betray where Ally was. There was nothing except his own blood pounding in his ears; even the light wind that had been blowing earlier had died away as the heat pressed down on him.

“You still there, friend?” Alvarez sounded anxious.

“Uh-huh.” Kozik scooted back to his former position and checked down the trail again. Still nothing—except that he could no longer see the toe of Alvarez boot.

A moment later, he heard the quiet jink of a horse’s bridle and the crunch of scree from near Alvarez’s position. He tensed.

Alvarez spoke again, his voice coming from further away and his words a touch labored. “If you find a woman like that, you will understand why I would follow her to the ends of the earth. Why I would not let a man like Hale ever touch her again.”

Underneath the words, Kozik could hear the shuffle of a horse’s feet. More than one horse. He carefully laid his revolver on the ground where he could quickly snatch it up again and picked up his rifle. His hands automatically checked it over, before he settled himself ready to fire.

“You ever find a woman like that, my friend?” Alvarez called. Kozik thought he heard him say something else more quietly and a second voice reply. Ally must still be with him, then. What were they planning? Alvarez had as good as told him he would never give up….

Kozik unexpectedly found it hard to breathe as envy caught him by the throat. He had found a woman like that: a woman he would have tracked to the ends of the earth so that they could grow old together—except she would have likely laughed in his face if he’d dared suggest such a thing.

A sharp whiff of something burning brought him back to the present. He shook his head, clearing away the memories, and peered down the trail again. A clatter of hooves broke out and, a few seconds later, a pair of horses careered into view, all staring eyes and laid-back ears as they tried to outrun smoldering bundles of cloth and brush and God knows what else that they dragged behind them. An old trick, but one Kozik should have expected: the lit bales bouncing over the rough ground at the end of the ropes tied to the horses hindquarters were filling the air with smoke, obscuring the trail—yet not so much that Kozik couldn’t see the figures on horseback that followed close behind.

He hesitated for a split second, keenly aware that it was Alvarez and Ally riding toward him, before he reminded himself it was Tig’s life on the line—and his own—if he didn’t fire. Sighting again through the heavy smoke at the figure in front, trying to aim just ahead and force them to turn back, he pulled the trigger. The lead horse reared and pirouetted, flinging the rider from the saddle. The second horse crashed into the first, and the other rider was down as well. All was confusion for a moment, the horses trampling around the figures on the floor, while the sound of the fire-madded horses that had led the way faded down the trail as they raced on.

Then the smoke cleared and the riderless horses calmed, ambling a few paces away and coming to a halt. Alvarez lay on his back, arms flung wide, but Kozik could hear him groaning. Beyond him, Ally lay on her side, her face turned away from him, unmoving.

Kozik felt sick to the pit of his stomach as the realization broke that Ally had been leading. That it had been Ally he’d fired on. He sat frozen for a moment, before flinging himself forward, down the slope and on to the trail, throwing up a silent, desperate prayer to the God he’d barely spoken to since childhood but who, he hoped, was listening now.

Alvarez stirred as Kozik’s shadow fell over him, struggling to pull the pistol at his hip from its holster. “You gonna kill me now?”

Kozik shook his head, stooping and pulling the pistol free and sending it spinning away into the rocks. “We’re past all that now.” There was blood on Alvarez’s pants, just below a bandana that had been tied around his leg as a makeshift tourniquet, though the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding. Even if Alvarez could make it to the border in time, he wouldn’t be in good enough shape to pose any real threat to Tig and the others.

Passing on, Kozik knelt down next to Ally, fearfully putting his hand on her shoulder to roll her over on her back. She let out a quiet moan as he turned her. Relief washed through him. “Hey, baby,” he murmured, stroking her hair back from her face.

Her eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on him. “Hey.” She gave him a weak smile. “Long time….”

“Uh-huh.” He ran his gaze over her, desperately seeking any sign his bullet had hit her. A trail of mingled blood and dirt ran down beside her mouth from a graze on her cheek. She must have hit her head when she fell and maybe been knocked unconscious for a few moments. Otherwise, she seemed unhurt. Sliding his arm underneath her shoulders, he hefted her up on to his knee. She made no complaint, which he took as another good sign. “When are you gonna stop doing crazy stuff like this, huh?”

“Never.” She shook her head to reinforce her words. The gesture seemed to cause her pain, because she closed her eyes and grimaced.

Kozik smoothed her hair back from her forehead, his chest tight. He wouldn’t have expected any other answer from her—and he wouldn’t have wanted anything else. For all he hated the thought of her being hurt, he hated the thought of her being miserable more. “I can live with that,” he admitted. “Long as I can ride by your side.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “I’d like that.” She opened her eyes again, seeking out his gaze. “We were good together, weren’t we?”

“The best.” He felt like his heart would burst, to be holding her in his arms again, seeing her smile up at him. It had been too long, and he should never have left. “So, when you gonna give up all those other men?”

She raised her eyebrows. “For you?”

“Uh-huh.” He’d lost his smile now, the answer mattering too much.

She looked up at him silently, her expression doubtful, while he held his breath. Then she grinned, her teeth white in her dusty face. “I can live with that….”

A brief wave of lightheadedness swept over him. It could have been the endless miles he’d ridden and the merciless sun overhead finally taking its toll. Or it could have been something else entirely. Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his.



Kozik squinted at the huddle of half-derelict buildings squatting either end of the bridge that marked the border. A single horse was tethered in a patch of shade on the near side, and there was movement among the tumbledown sheds. Looked like Tig and the others hadn’t crossed over yet. Kozik wondered whether that meant Jax had changed his mind, or was simply waiting for Hale to arrive to complete the contract.

Seemed like he wouldn’t have to wait long: at the further end of the bridge, a half dozen men were riding toward the crossing point from the direction of the nearest town. Kozik could pick out Hale’s portly figure even from this distance.

Five minutes later, Kozik was grinning down at Tig, who’d emerged from among the shacks at the sound of his approach. “Surprised to see me, brother?”

“You’re like a bad penny.” Tig pulled him into an embrace as Kozik slid down from his horse. “Always turn up.” Stepping back, he looked past Kozik. “Surprised by the company you brought along, though.”

Mrs Hale had already hurried out of the shelter of the buildings and was helping Alvarez as he clumsily dismounted from his horse. Kozik swung away to aid Ally, holding her arms and smiling down at her once she reached the ground. “Seemed like the right thing to do.” He glanced back at Tig. “I guess I found out what makes a woman worth ten thousand dollars.”

Tig was watching Mrs Hale help Alvarez sit down in the shade, her hands fluttering lightly over his wound. Alvarez caught her hands in his and clasped them tightly, some silent communication passing between them. Tig brought his gaze back to Kozik, his eyes narrowing as he regarded him. “So I see,” he remarked, his tone caustic.

“I think you mean forty thousand dollars.” Jax had rounded the corner and was taking in the reunion between Alvarez and Mrs Hale. “We all get paid, or none of us do.”

Kozik let go of Ally with a gesture for her to stay where she was, and stepped toward Jax. “Opie made it?”

Jax nodded, his attention still fixed on Alvarez and Mrs Hale. “He made it. Couple of days in bed and he’ll be fine.”

“And you still think we should get paid?” Kozik couldn’t read Jax’s expression, though he took some hope from the fact Jax hadn’t been in any hurry to take Mrs Hale across the border. Now that Kozik could see her with Alvarez—now that he’d so nearly lost Ally and found her again—he was more than ever sure that handing Mrs Hale back to her husband was the wrong choice.

The sound of hooves rattling over the bridge made them all turn. Hale, with his men around them, was making his way across. Jax cast another glance toward Alvarez and Mrs Hale, before beginning to move back around the building to meet Hale. “Kozik. Tig. You’re with me. Seems our employer is in a hurry to speak to us.”

Kozik and Tig followed. A glance through the doorway of the building as they passed showed Opie was laid up inside, his face a better color than the last time Kozik had seen him.

“Gentlemen!” Hale had climbed down awkwardly from his horse and was striding forward. “You got her?”

“We got her.” Jax stood at ease but Kozik, a pace behind his left shoulder, could feel the tension in him.

Hale reached out and grabbed Jax’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Thank you, Mr Teller! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And you, Mr Trager. And Mr Kozik. And… Mr Winston?” Hale let go of Jax’s hand, his expression growing concerned. “Is Mr Winston not with you?”

Jax inclined his head toward the building. “He had a little trouble along the way, but he’ll be fine.” Jax’s manner was cool, reminding Kozik of the calm way he’d appraised himself and Tig the day they’d met.

“Good. Good.” Hale rubbed his hands together. “We’ll get him the best doctor in town. And we’ll get you gentlemen into town right away. Get you your money. Hot baths, hot meals, anything you want. All on me.”

He gestured for Jax to lead the way across the bridge. Jax didn’t move. “When we’ve completed our contract, Mr Hale. When your wife is safe and sound.”

“Of course. Of course.” Hale nodded eagerly. “Where is she?” He looked around, as if expecting his wife appear out of thin air.

“I’ll go fetch her.” Jax turned, catching first Tig’s eye and then Kozik’s. He tilted his head back slightly in the direction of Hale’s henchmen, arrayed in a semi-circle behind him. The warning was clear: be ready.

Kozik’s heart beat faster as he realized Jax was readying them for the fact he was about to do something that likely wasn’t going to sit well with Hale. He subtly hitched his jacket back from his hip, making sure he’d be free to pull his gun.

“There’s no need.” Hale skipped around Jax, hurrying ahead. “I can—.” He rounded the corner and stopped dead. Following behind, Kozik saw Mrs Hale was still kneeling next to Alvarez.

Hale turned to face Jax. “What’s he doing here?” he snarled.

Jax was watching Hale thoughtfully. He’d twitched his own jacket back and hooked his thumbs into his belt with fingers spread, the tips just touching the holster at his hip. “Well, see, we talked to Mrs Hale on the way. Found out there was a little bit of confusion about just what was going on.”

Hale gave Jax a long, hard stare. Then he looked past him, dipping his head at one of the men in the group arrayed behind Jax. “There’s no confusion. Walker?” One of Hale’s men detached himself from the group and joined his boss. Hale pointed to Alvarez. “Kill him.”

“No!” Mrs Hale had risen to her knees, leaning forward across Alvarez, who seemed too exhausted to protest or attempt to defend himself. “Jacob, no!”

Walker gave Hale a doubtful look. Ignoring his wife, Hale gave another nod of his head, confirming the order. Walker pulled his revolver and began to raise it. As the gun came up, a shot rang out and the gun went spinning away into the dirt. Walker cursed, clenching his bruised fingers into a fist.

“You haven’t earned the right to kill him.” Tig still had his gun pointed at Walker, but he shifted to turn it on Hale.

Hale held up his hands a little defensively, turning his gaze from Tig to Jax to Kozik. “Maybe there is some confusion.” He held Jax’s gaze for a moment before adding, “I’d like to talk to my wife in private.”

Mrs Hale tossed back her head with a snort. “There is no need, Jacob. They know everything. Everything. They know I would rather die, that I would rather they had left me in the desert, than go back to you.”

“You’re my wife.” Hale took a step towards her, his eyes glittering with anger.

“But I belong to Marcus.” Mrs Hale groped for Alvarez’s hand. “I will always belong to Marcus.”

“You belong to me!” Hale pulled his own gun, hidden in a shoulder holster under his jacket, and raised it high above his head, preparing to club his wife with it.

Kozik moved faster, grabbing Hale’s hand and swinging him around, a foot hooked around Hale’s ankle to send him sprawling on his back. Kozik twisted the gun free and turned it to point it at Hale. “Where I come from, we don’t treat the women we love like that.”

Tig had his gun pointed at Hale’s men, daring them to make a move. Jax took a step forward and reached down to help Alvarez to his feet. “Seems to me, Mr Hale, you hired us to find the man who abducted this woman and then make sure she was returned to where she belongs, safe and sound.” He offered a hand to Mrs Hale to help her up as well, before pushing the two of them toward where Ally waited next to the horses Kozik had led in. He turned back to look down at Hale. “I don’t think either of us made quite the deal we thought we were making.”

“You won’t get paid,” Hale spluttered.

“I know.” Jax glanced at Kozik. “Go fetch Ope. I reckon we’d all benefit from a little vacation down in Mexico.” He looked back at Hale. “Some things are worth ten thousand dollars apiece, Mr Hale, but I doubt you know what any of those are.”

Five minutes later, the small group was on its way back south. Ally, riding next to Kozik, Alvarez and Mrs Hale ahead of them, gave him a sideways look. “You poor again, Kozik?”

Kozik reached out and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Not this time, baby. Not ever again.”