Lone Star 03 (18 page)

“In her nightclothes?”

“No. He allowed her to dress.”

“Did he have a warrant to arrest her?”

“I did not ask. In Mexico, the
rurales
need no warrant to seize someone, Señor Ki.”

“You're sure he took her to the
rurale
headquarters? That building across the square?”

“Where else?”

Ki fell silent. Speedy action was imperative, but he needed time to dress. He brought up his free hand up to Salazar's neck and locked his thumb and fingertips like a set of claws into the brachial junction at the point where the neck and shoulder join. Its blood supply blocked, Salazar's brain no longer exercised control of his body. In a few seconds the hotelman slumped into a semiconscious state that would last for a half hour or more. Ki lowered the comatose man to the floor.

Back in his own room, he found Lita sitting up in bed, her eyes still half-veiled with sleep. She looked at him as he slid into his jeans and strapped the
shuriken
case to his forearm.

“Aren't you going to come back to bed?” she asked.

“I'd like to, but I don't have time.” Ki's mind was racing, trying to make plans. He slipped on his shirt, and as he was buttoning it he suddenly saw a way out of his dilemma. He said, “I need your help, Lita.”

“To do what?”

“To get out of San Pedro with Jessie.”

“Ki, something's wrong. What is it?”

He did not answer for a moment; he was wrapping his surushin around his waist. Then he asked Lita, “Does your father have enough influence to keep Captain Guzman from causing trouble for you if you do something that will make Guzman very angry?”

“Guzman would not dare cause trouble for a Mendoza!”

“He's causing trouble for Jessie and me. He arrested her a few minutes ago.”

“Buy why did he arrest Miss Starbuck?”

“Don't ask me why, Lita. I don't know.” Ki realized that he was about to take a risk, but had already decided that the risk of trusting Lita was less than that of leaving Jessie in Guzman's hands a moment longer than was necessary. He went on, “You said last night that you were going back to your ranch this morning, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Can you be ready to leave in a half hour?”

“I...” Lita seemed bewildered. “I suppose so.”

“Will you take Jessie and me with you, at least part of the way?”

“Ki, I don't understand all this! What is going on?”

“I don't have time to explain everything to you now, Lita. But will you have your carriage ready to go, as I asked you to?”

“For you, this morning, I would do almost anything.”

“Then do this, please. Gather up Jessie's things and mine. Put them in your carriage. Oh—you'll find Salazar in her room. He's unconscious. Don't try to revive him; he won't come to, no matter what you do.”

“What does Pierre have to do with all this? Ki, Pierre—”

“I'll tell you later. Have your coachman saddle our horses and put them on a lead-rope behind the carriage. When I bring Jessie back here, be ready to start.”

“How do you expect to get her away from the
rurales?”

“Don't worry.” Ki slid his arms into the sleeves of his well-worn leather jacket and transferred to its pocket the small
shuriken
he'd put in the pocket of his shirt the evening before. He said, “I'll bring Jessie back.”

“Ki, there are eighteen
rurales
in Guzman's company! You can't hope to—”

“Yes, I can, Lita.” Ki took his teakwood
bo
from the corner where he'd leaned it when he came in the previous evening. “Will you do the things I mentioned, and be ready?”

“I still don't understand all this, but I promise you I'll do just what you asked me to.”

“Thank you, Lita. I'll explain everything to you later.”

Reaching the street, Ki moved with determination rather than speed. He crossed the plaza at a pace that would not draw the attention of the few early worshipers, mostly women, who were heading for the church to attend early mass. In spite of the hour, the doors of the stone building that housed the
rurale
headquarters were open. A knot of pistol-belted men in the
charro
garb that marked them as members of Guzman's company were clustered on the building's steps.

Ki hesitated only only enough to study the group of
rurales.
Then, gripping his bo, he moved across the plaza. He'd reached the street on which the
rurale
headquarters stood, but still had not crossed it, when three of the
rurales
on the steps detached themselves from their companions and started for the church. Ki did not know whether Guzman had given his men orders to watch for him, but he felt he could take no chances. The three
rurales
in the street were the first to feel the impact of his bo.

Almost without stopping, Ki dropped the first with an upward swing of the bo that caught the man under his chin and knocked him to the ground, unconscious. Even before the first man began to topple, Ki brought up the lowered end of the staff in an identical blow that stunned the next man in line. Continuing the smooth sweep of the bo, Ki laid out the last of the trio with a horizontal smash to his jaw.

None of the three
rurales
had time to reach for a gun or to call a warning to their companions, who were clustered around the door of the headquarters. The
rurales
on the steps were crowding up to the doorway, their backs to the street, when Ki struck.

There were five of them. The first fell when Ki snapped the tip of the bo across the nape of his neck. He took out the next man with a continuation of the swipe that had accounted for the first. Ki changed tactics then, for, as the second man fell, he staggered into the three standing in front of him, closer to the door. They turned when the falling
rurale
hit them, and, as they moved, Ki slid his hands to a new grip on the
bo.

Using it like a lance, he jabbed the man who he saw would be first to face him, thrusting the bo's blunt tip into the vulnerable spot on the bridge of the nose where bone and gristle come together. The bo's tip smashed into the cartilage, splintering the bones that formed the bridge of the
rurale's
nose. The upward force of the stab sent a sharp sliver of bone from the man's nose into his brain, and he was dying as he fell.

Swiveling his body gracefully, Ki accounted for the fourth
rurale
with a stab that dug deeply enough into the man's solar plexus to split his diaphragm and start him tumbling down the low steps, gagging at the pain and gasping for breath.

As he swung his body to put its full weight behind the
bo
's stabbing movement, Ki brought up his left foot up, extending it as it rose. The sole of his foot took the last
rurale
squarely in the ear. The smash ruptured the tympanum and swelled its inner cavity, pushing the ballooning tissues into the sensitive nerves that clustered around it.

Disoriented by the painful messages that the disordered nerves were pounding into his brain, the man yowled like an animal. Unable to hear his own cries, the
rurale
twirled in his tracks several times, getting entangled with the man whose diaphragm had been torn. Hopelessly entwined, the two fell to the top step and rolled down to the ground, their bodies writhing in agonizing convulsions while the animal cries of the deafened
rurale
echoed across the plaza.

Ki had no idea how many more
rurales
were inside the headquarters, but he knew the cries of pain that the injured men were uttering would empty the building. The front door swung inward. Ki slipped around it and opened it wide, concealing himself in the narrow triangle between the inside of the door and the jamb. He did not risk looking when he heard the clatter of booted feet begin ringing out on the stone-floored corridor.

Clasping his bo and holding it ready, he waited for the running
rurales
to pass the door, then swung it shut. There was a bolt on the inside. Ki threw it.

With the heavy door closed, the shouts of the unhurt
rurales
and the cries of those Ki had wounded were muted. Ki did not know which of the offices was Guzman‘s, so he started down the corridor, listening at each door. He'd almost reached the end when he heard the angry voice of a woman through the panels of one of the doors. Even though the words were muffled by the door, Ki recognized Jessie's voice. He tried the knob carefully, and found that the door was locked.

Drawing back his bo, Ki thrust with its tip at the thin wood of the upper panel. Thick as the panel was, the steel-hard tip of the bo splintered it, taking a strip of wood an inch or so wide from its center.

Ki freed his staff and looked quickly through the opening. He got a glimpse of Jessie, in profile. Her arms were pulled behind her, and her wrists were tied. She knelt on the floor beside a massive desk that stood in the center of the room. Her blouse had been ripped off her shoulders and her high breasts were thrusting forward against Guzman's thighs. The
rurale
leader was leaning against the desk, in front of her. One of Guzman's hands grasped Jessie's golden hair, pulling her head up. His trouser fly was open, and his darkly ruddy phallus, erect and swollen, was an inch from Jessie's face.

As Ki peered through the split in the panel, Guzman was just turning his head toward the door. He saw Ki's eyes and let go his grip on Jessie's hair. Pushing past her, he started for the door, drawing one of the twin Colts that hung from his pistol belt.

Guzman had taken one step toward the door before he reached for the Colt's pearl grips. By the time he had the pistol drawn, he'd taken a second step and was within the reach of Ki's
bo.

Ki had acted faster than the
rurale.
At the first instant that Guzman started toward the door, Ki had sighted along the five-foot length of the teakwood staff, and at Guzman's second long stride, Ki struck with unerring accuracy.

He jabbed the bo forward through the slit he'd opened. The weapon's tip hit Guzman below the base of his now-drooping shaft, and tore through his trousers into his scrotum. Screaming in a high-pitched yowl, the rurale captain doubled up, dropping his revolver to the floor.

Ki knew his stabbing blow would incapacitate Guzman for several seconds. He used the bo as a lever, and cracked the door panel around the slit to open a hole large enough for him to slip a hand through. He slid back the bolt and shoved. The opening door pushed Guzman to one side. The
rurale
chief was still bending from the waist and too stunned from pain to realize what was happening.

Ki took the most vulnerable target the
rurale's
doubled-up body offered—the tip of Guzman's hipbone, where the complex of inguinal nerves passes over the iliac crest. The tip of the bo ground nerves into bone, and Guzman's body flew erect in a spasm of pain greater than that which Ki's stab in the testicles had caused. As the rurale's torso was rising, Ki whirled in another spin to create striking force, and dug his stiffened toes into the side of Guzman's neck, just below the jawbone. Guzman gave a spasmodic quiver, dropped to the floor, and lay still.

“I thought it was about time for you to get here,” Jessie said coolly. She had risen to her feet and was leaning against the desk.

Ki took a
shuriken
from his pocket, and used its sharp edge to cut the ropes that bound her wrists. She rubbed her wrists to restore circulation in her hands, then she pulled her blouse up over her shoulders. Only one button remained, and she slid it through the buttonhole with a shrug.

“What's next?” she asked Ki.

“We get out of here, fast.”

In the corridor there was a great hubbub. The
rurales
Ki had locked out at the front door were pounding at its sturdy panels and shouting loudly. From the stairway at the front of the hall, boot heels clattered as the
rurales
who'd been on the second floor of the headquarters building started to respond to the shouts of those outside.

“To the back door!” Ki snapped. “That way!”

They reached the end of the corridor. It ended at a blank wall, where another hallway ran into it at right angles. Looking both ways, Ki saw two doors. He had no way of knowing where either one led, but Jessie was holding his left arm and it was easier to swing her into a right-hand turn. They ran for the door. Ki opened it and saw an enclosed courtyard. On their left a pair of tall iron latticework gates stood open, and beyond them was the street. On the right was a row of stable doors, the heads of horses visible through the opened top halves. The horses gave Ki an idea.

“Wait!” he told Jessie.

Running to the stables, he sped along the row of doors, pulling open each one as he passed. At the end of the stalls, he turned and retraced his steps, rousting out the horses, until the courtyard was filled with milling animals. Shouting and waving his arms, Ki drove the horses through the wide gate and into the street, then he and Jessie ran after them.

As they followed the spooked horses into the plaza, a medley of angry shouts rose from the front of the headquarters building, where the
rurales
from the upstairs quarters were trying to aid those whom Ki had felled on the building's steps. The
rurales
started chasing the horses, ignoring Ki and Jessie.

In the courtyard of La Posada Mendoza, the landaulet was waiting. Adelita was pacing nervously beside it, and the coachman sat on the box seat, holding the reins.

As Ki and Jessie reached the landaulet, Adelita called,
“Francisco! Andale! Vaminos al rancho!”