“They’re expecting company,” said Captain Gringo as he and Gaston crouched on a ridge overlooking the valley with the boy, Zurdo. Gaston stared morosely down the steep slope of eroded lava rock at the little cluster of thatched adobes, surrounded by a patchwork of small terraced fields, and said, “I think you’re right. I see the plaza and I see the well, but there is not a sign of life down there and the siesta hours are over. I don’t see how they spotted us, do you?”
Captain Gringo said, “We didn’t circle around the hard way over all that fucking lava to be spotted. They may have missed Zurdo, here, or other men may have slipped out for help.”
He turned to the boy and asked, “How did you leave, Zurdo? Did you try to sneak away or did you just start running up the slope?”
Zurdo said, “I slipped away just before dawn. I did not tell anyone but my family that I was going. You said other men, señor. Does that mean I am the man of my family, in your eyes?”
“I’d say you were a man in anybody’s eyes, Zurdo. When someone risks his life to help his friends, he’s a man no matter how old he is.”
The boy blushed like a girl at the compliment, but Gaston said, “Merde, I agree the child deserves a medal. But whoever is holding that position is set for an attack and those walls down there look solid. If we had one modest field piece, reducing such a stronghold would be tres easy. Neither rifle nor machine gun bullets are going to make much of an impression of walls at least twenty-four inches thick.”
Captain Gringo said, “Right.” Then he asked Zurdo, “Do you know which building they’re using as their headquarters, Son?”
Zurdo nodded and said, “That bigger house with the tile roof, this side of the well. It used to be the alcalde’s, until they shot him.”
Captain Gringo studied the building the boy had indicated. It presented its rear wall to them and there was no back door. There were narrow windows on the second story, so it would be impossible to sneak down behind, even if there was a reason. There wasn’t. The ground floor openings faced the plaza. He could see how one man in a window or doorway with a gun could prevent anyone from drawing water from the nearby well. He said, “I don’t see the usual church tower, Zurdo. Don’t your people go to church?”
The boy said, “Once a month, in the dry season. We are too poor and unimportant for a priest in residence. A circuit-riding padre comes by often enough for weddings, funerals, or such confessions as one may wish to make in a village where nothing much has ever happened before.”
Gaston said, “Dick, I have been thinking about that gang down there. They can’t be working for anyone we know. We are nowhere near the sea, and even if we were, Greystoke said the German plans were tres long range, non?”
“They’re not Germans. The Kaiser wants friends here, not enemies. German agents wouldn’t act so nasty long before the canal their Navy’s interested in has even been dug. Besides that, they don’t have to be nasty. Germany has lots of friends in Costa Rica.”
“True. When one has high-ranking officers on one’s payroll, one does not mistreat peons who are bound to call on those same officers for help. I say forget it. Whoever they are, they are fools. How long can they hold that village before some Costa Rican Army unit comes by to deal with them?”
Captain Gringo said, “Folks can die of thirst in a few days, Gaston.”
“Perhaps, but then, they are not our folks, hein?”
Captain Gringo stood up and took a white kerchief from his hip pocket as he said, “That’s what I like about you, Gaston. You’re such a tenderhearted son of a bitch.”
“What are you doing? They’ll see you!”
“I know. I’m going down to parley with them. You want to come along?”
Gaston gasped and said, “Sacre! Now I know you have been out in the sun too long! They will blow you away like dust!”
“I doubt it, but if they do, you’ll have to take over. I’d tell you to carry on with the mission if I thought you would, but why waste time? I want to settle this thing before the guys get thirsty.”
The boy said, “I will go with you, señor!”
But Captain Gringo shook his head and said, “Stay here with the others, Zurdo. You have friends and relatives they can get at if they see you went for help.”
Without waiting to see if he was being obeyed, the tall American started down the slope, digging in his heels. The hillside had long since been stripped of brush for firewood and the weathered lava soil and rock was treacherous. He half walked and half slid down to where the slope began to bottom out, but he was still a good hundred yards from the village when a trio of riflemen stepped into view around the corner of the alcalde’s house. Captain Gringo waved the kerchief and kept going. He got to within pistol range before one of the men called out, in English, “You can stop right there and keep your hands friendly. Who the fuck are you and where the fuck did you just come from?”
The American stopped and called back, “The name’s Walker, we just came down off the mesa, and I’ve got guys covering you from the rim rocks up above.”
“Big deal. We’re out of range from them ridges and you know it. Did you have something particular in mind or do you just enjoy dying?”
Captain Gringo said, “I’m leading irregulars on a mission with the approval of San Jose. I heard there were Yank guerrillas here and came down to see if you want to join up.”
There was a long silence. Then another man asked, “What’s the deal, Walker? Are you the same Walker the spies call Captain Gringo?”
“Yeah. Who’s your leader?”
“Me, and my name’s none of your lucking business. We got us a good thing going for us, here. We’ve been getting all the booze and ass we want and we’re charging two bits a gallon for the only water for miles. You want to buy some water, Captain Gringo?”
“We’ve got water, and we’ve got you out manned and outgunned, but I didn’t come down here to talk tough. I’ll pay you each a dollar a day with a bonus after we complete our mission. Remember I’m talking about a legal mission. When it’s over, you’ll be able to spend your dinero up in San Jose.”
There was another pause in the conversation as they apparently argued about his offer. Then-the self-appointed leader said, “We might go along with five bucks a day. You still ain’t said what you’re after.”
“I don’t intend to, unless you guys join up. How long do you think you can hold out here like this?”
“As long as we have to, friend. We’ve already been on a fucking mission and we didn’t like it much. We didn’t find nothing. So there was no point going back empty-handed. When we found this place waiting to be plucked like an apple, we just went into business for ourselves.”
Captain Gringo frowned and said, “Christ, don’t tell me Greystoke hired you guys, tool”
“Greystoke? Who the hell is Greystoke?”
“The guy I’m working for. You were sent to look for a secret naval base, right?”
The other leader hesitated before he said, “What if we were? There ain’t no fucking secret base, and, believe me, we looked! I don’t remember no guy named Greystoke at the U.S. Consulate. What does he look like?”
The penny dropped. He’d thought Uncle Sam had been keeping an awfully low profile, and that explained the shortage of knockaround guys in San Jose, too. He called back, “He’s a bald guy. Wears a lieutenant commander’s uniform. Didn’t you meet him when our Naval Intelligence guys briefed you?”
“Naw, we just talked to some guy with an attaché case and a Chicago bankroll. We never went to the consulate. He said he was hiring us on the Q.T. He mentioned a bonus, too. But he said not to bother coming back for more if we didn’t find us a German submarine. So we took him up on it. I know you’re rep, and I’d cut you and your guys in on what we’ve got here, if there was more to go around. But there ain’t.”
Captain Gringo said, “Shaking down peons for pennies isn’t my line. You’re welcome to it, but I wouldn’t hang around here much longer, if I were you. The Costa Rican Army’s pretty hot stuff, and they shoot bandits on sight.”
“Aw, go look for your fucking submarine. You’re in no position to tell anyone how to run their lives, Walker. You’re on a fool’s errand.”
“Maybe. There’s a lot of coastline between here and Panama, buddy.”
“I know. We just stumbled over most of it. I don’t know how the story about them Germans got started, but I know it’s all bullshit. Seeing you’re a fellow Yank, we’ll let you fill your canteens before you move on, but you did say you was moving on, didn’t you?”
Captain Gringo nodded and said, “Yeah, I’m not getting paid to take back villages for Costa Rica. I’ll see how many of my guys need water.”
He turned and walked away, not looking back, even though his backbone itched between his shoulder blades. They didn’t fire and he was soon out of range. They were really dumb as hell.
He struggled up the steep slope to Gaston and the others. He told everyone to move back from the rimrocks and stay out of sight before he filled them in on the conversation. Then he said, “They’re going to wonder why none of us come down for water.”
Gaston nodded and said, “But of course. They know we’d never march on without filling our canteens, once invited.”
The Detroit Harp said, “Sure, and we do need the water and that’s a fact, but I’m not sure I trust them, Cap!”
The tall American nodded and said, “It’s better than even money they’d ambush anyone who went in. They could use our guns and ammo and they don’t want us telling anyone where they are. We’ll wait until it’s dark before we take them.”
Gaston said, “We are to take them? Merde alors! How? The alcalde’s house is built like a fortress!”
Captain Gringo said, “I know. They’re going to start stewing long before sundown. They won’t know if we’re still here or not. I’m counting on them forting up good in that house while they get set for an attack.”
T.B. Jones looked totally confused as he said, “That’s what I’d do if I was them, Cap. Fifteen guys could hold off an army from behind them ‘dobe walls, and we don’t have no army!”
Captain Gringo said, “Maybe not, but we’ve got brains, which is more than they can say. You guys just find some shade and smoke if you’ve got ‘em. Those poor dumb bastards won’t have a chance when we hit them, after sundown.”