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Authors: Stephen Lodge

BOOK: Deadfall
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C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
1961
“Oh my,” said Noel as she slid over closer to her Grampa Hank. “Just when everything's going right, something always comes along to spoil it.”
“Why did they build the
hacienda
on top of a creek bed, Grampa Hank?” asked Caleb.
“So they'd have something to drink when they were thirsty,” said Josh, who had stretched out on the grass and was looking up at the stars while he spoke.
Hank said, “Did you know that here in America, even today, both farmers and ranchers like to have their houses near a creek or a stream, so they won't have to go too far for water? Well, it was the same down in old Mexico back then. The
hacienda
owners would build their homes near a creek or stream for the same reason; they had to have water close by. Don Sebastian's choice to build the little exit arch in his wall for the stream proved to be his undoing. His plans for the
hacienda
walls had been based on the fact that the normal size of a Mexican man was just too large to fit through that little arch—and much too small for a soldier in full fighting gear. He never expected that a boy, the size of Henry Ellis, would be able to use the arch to gain entrance into his private sanctuary.”
“So, what happened, Grampa Hank?” said Noel. “What happened next?”
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-ONE
1900
Henry Ellis had made it as far as the corner of the
casa grande
. He decided he'd stay there, behind the bushes that surrounded the main house, until he could check every window and door he came to.
Most of the rooms were unoccupied, others contained a guard or two, as he stopped momentarily beneath each casement, checking to see if his parents might be inside.
He had nearly circled the entire building, with no luck, when he heard his mother's voice coming from a small window on the far end of the
hacienda
's lower floor.
After the boy had stopped to figure out from which window her voice was coming, he moved cautiously to that opening and stood up on his tiptoes. He got his ear as close to the shutters as possible. Once he was set firmly in place, he held his breath and listened as best as he could.
It was a man's voice with a heavy Spanish accent that was now speaking. And since Henry Ellis could also hear his mother's voice every so often, he was sure he'd stumbled across a conversation between his mother and her captor.
“I beg of you, tell me, where have you taken my husband?” Betty Jean asked the man.
“For the time being, your husband's whereabouts are not your concern, señora,” answered Don Sebastian, the man to whom the other voice belonged.
“He is my husband and I want to be with him,” said Betty Jean's voice. “He has become a very sick man. He needs me.”
“I will have your husband brought back to you only when you can tell me where your son is,” said the Don. “Until then, I must keep the two of you separated.”
Henry Ellis felt sick to his stomach when he realized this man also wanted him in custody.
He let himself down to the ground where he would wait until his mother was alone in the room.
 
 
Charley had been taken to a place where the rest of the outfit was being held—in a break in a small wooded area, close to the
hacienda
's outside wall. Here Don Sebastian's guards—along with some of Armendariz's men—could watch over them with no possibility of escape.
“Señor Charley,” shouted Fuerte when he first saw the guards bringing the ex-Ranger into the area. They stopped to untie him.
“Roca,
mi amigo
,” Charley answered back. Then he threw his arms around his friend.
“My friend,” said Fuerte, “I thought you might be dead. Please accept my apology. I do not know how they found out we were here. Is it possible there is a traitor among us?”
“I don't think so,” said Charley. “I can vouch for every single one in my outfit. I handpicked them all.”
Some of the others were drifting over to where Charley and Fuerte were standing—Roscoe was the first to reach them.
“Looks like they got you, too, C.A.,” said Roscoe. “Where's the kid?”
Charley shushed him with a harsh look.
Roscoe nodded slightly to let Charley know that he understood he should keep quiet about the boy.
“And Rod?” said Kelly, whispering. She moved in beside them.
Now there were even more gathering around. Charley kept his voice low as he filled them all in.
“Both Henry Ellis and Rod are inside the
hacienda
's walls,” said Charley. “Hopefully, we'll figure out how to get away from these guards before Henry Ellis and Rod need our help getting Betty Jean and Kent out of that place.”
Kelly looked up at Charley. “You say that Rod is inside the
hacienda
walls with Henry Ellis?”
“That's right, Kelly. They're both inside,” said Charley. “But not together. All we can do right now is to pray that those two will eventually meet up. Pennell, Sergeant Stone,” he called out.
Charley's loud whisper brought the two men to his side. When they gave him their full attention he went on.
“You two men edge your way around to the east side of this enclosure. Holliday, Roscoe, you two work your way over to the west. I'll take the north . . . and Roca, you take the south. When I see that all of you are in position to take out the guards nearest you, I'll holler.”
“We can do that, Boss,” said Feather.
“It'll be no problem,” added the sergeant.
“The sooner we get this done,” said Charley, “the sooner we can get back to the
hacienda
so we can be there for Rod and my grandson.”
Henry Ellis was still waiting outside the window to the room where his mother was being held. The man who had been talking to Betty Jean had just left the room, closing the door behind him.
Those two sure talked for a long time
, the boy thought to himself before jumping up and grabbing the bottom of the window frame. He pulled himself up until he could see his mother inside.
“Mother,” he whispered.
Betty Jean jumped at the surprise of hearing her son's voice.
“Over here, Mother,” he said again.
This time she turned and saw Henry Ellis's face centered in the casement.
“Oh, my dear God,” she said out loud. Then she whispered, “Thank God you're alive, Henry Ellis.”
She moved over and helped him as he climbed through the open window the rest of the way.
After he joined his mother inside, the two of them hugged for the longest of time—then she leaned in and showered the boy with kisses from forehead to chin.
“My boy,” she said, “my son . . . oh my. It's so good to see you, Henry Ellis.”
“Where's Father?” the boy wanted to know.
“I wish I knew myself,” she said. “He was feeling under the weather this morning, so they sent several men over here to get him. I must assume they took him somewhere for treatment.”
“Is there a hospital here on the
hacienda
grounds?” asked the boy.
“There certainly should be, by the size of this place,” she said. “It's like a small city.”
“That's where he must be, then,” said Henry Ellis. “Where else would they take a man who was complaining of feeling ill?”
“If it helps,” said Betty Jean, “they must have turned to the left when they went out the front door. I could see them through the window when they crossed the yard. Then they disappeared behind some of those other buildings.”
“First,” said Henry Ellis, “I want to get you out of here and to a safer place before I go looking for Father. Follow me . . . I think I saw just the right place when I was finding my way over here.” Henry Ellis added, “You'll just have to promise me one thing, Mother . . . that you'll stay there until I get back with Father.”
His mother nodded.
“I promise you, Henry Ellis,” she said. “I promise you with all my heart.”
 
 
Rod had found his way as far as the guard's recreation building. Once he was there, however, he felt trapped because the door leading to the inside was now open, and every so often a guard or two would either enter or exit the building, making it impossible for him to go on any farther.
Once, when he decided to go around to the other side of the building, he spotted the two gate guards—with rifles ready—surveying the inside courtyard instead of the surrounding acreage outside the walls.
Something's gone wrong
, he thought to himself, then there was an opening, a space in time between the guards' coming to and leaving the building.
He took a chance and ran toward the
casa grande
, diving under the bushes. He found himself approximately where Henry Ellis had hidden when he first got to the main house.
Henry Ellis led his mother down a long hallway that opened up into the
hacienda
's great room. Both he, and Betty Jean, were overwhelmed by the room's size, but finding a way out was their main dilemma at that moment.
“Stay close to me, Mother,” said Henry Ellis. “Those two doors over there are the front entrance, I'm sure. We need a door that will lead to the outside, where our presence will not be so obvious.”
“What about that one?” said Betty Jean, pointing across the vast room to a single door located beside one of the opposing fireplaces.
“It'll do for a start,” said Henry Ellis.
With his arm around his mother's shoulder, the boy led her across the tile floor to the other side.
After a moment of fidgeting with the door's handle, the boy opened the portal and ushered his mother through the door and out into the fresh air of the courtyard.
Henry Ellis scanned the open space in front of them, his eyes finally stopping on the creek that flowed through the property.
“C'mon, Mother,” he said. “Follow me.”
Holding her hand, he made a dash for a small building constructed of rocks that appeared to straddle the running watercourse. In no time at all, mother and son slipped through a small arched opening in the structure's wall and disappeared inside.
From his position in the bushes, Rod had seen the two make their dash for the creek house—the place within the
hacienda
's walls where food items were kept that needed the natural refrigeration offered inside.
Though the interior was exposed to little or no light, and it was quite a few degrees cooler than it was outside, Henry Ellis figured that at last he'd found a place to hide that was somewhat safer than anywhere else he'd thought of before.
“You stay here, Mother,” said Henry Ellis. “I'm going to find out just where they're keeping Father.”
“Please, Henry Ellis,” said Betty Jean, “please don't leave me here alone.”
“I have to go, Mother,” said the boy. “I promised Grampa I'd get you both out of this place . . . together.”
“You should do what your mother wants you to do, Henry Ellis.”
There was the sound of a splash.
Both of them turned to see Rod—with his gun in hand—as he entered through the same door they had used.
“It's all right, Mother,” said Henry Ellis. “This is Rod Lightfoot . . . he's a friend of Grampa's and mine.”
Betty Jean began to breathe easier.
 
 
Charley, Fuerte, and the rest of the outfit were herded into a tighter circle. Extra guards had been added to oversee the group.
About then, a fancy carriage drove up containing Colonel Armendariz and Don Sebastian.
The driver stopped the carriage in front of the captives. Both men stood up, getting the prisoners' attention.
“I am Don Sebastian Ortega de la Vega,” the Don began. “And I am sure that you know my friend here, Colonel Armendariz? We are here to ask for your surrender.
“We know that the boy and one of the other Americans are inside the walls of my
hacienda
. . . and as long as we know that, there is no chance of their escaping.”
“You have my daughter and her husband in there, too,” shouted Charley from his position in the crowd.
“If you will come closer and identify yourself, señor,” said the Don, “perhaps I can tell you more of my plans for all of you.”
Charley stepped forward.
“Ah, Señor Sunday,” said Don Sebastian. “I assumed that was you. I know you are the leader of this band of Texians . . . with the exception of Señor Fuerte over there . . . and I'm ready to make you an offer.”
“An offer?” said Charley. “What kind of an offer?”
“I will release every one of these prisoners into your custody . . . that will include the boy and whoever it is with him inside those walls . . . in return for a ransom of fifty thousand American dollars.”

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