NOTE BY THE ACCOUNT HOLDER: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!

WRITTEN BY KARLA GREGORY

This Story is a repost of a fic written by Karla Gregory! It was posted online around the year 2000 and from all the stories done by this author, this adventure might have a feel closest to the canon of the lot. I wish there had actually been an episode like this cause I could have seen it happening. :D For more information on this author and other stories by them check the profile page.

Note from the original author:

This story came to me as I wondered whether or not I could take two or three episodes of Zorro and weave a separate story in and around what we were presented with on the screen. I spent many happy hours viewing the Zorro episodes looking for a likely setting for my story. The three episodes that I finally chose were "Agent of the Eagle", "Zorro Springs a Trap", and "The Unmasking of Zorro". In these episodes, we are introduced to Capitán Don Juan Ortega and Rosarita Cortez. The following story is the result of my challenge to myself. If you have these three episodes on tape, you might find it fun to view them before reading the story. As I wrote, I tried to pick out a few scenes where some of my characters might be seen as people in the background, such as in the tavern or around the corral where Tornado was to be auctioned. See if you can find them. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

April 4, 2000

This story takes place during episodes 20, 21 and 22 in season 1 of the series.


Chapter One

Mexico City

"I still say this Zorro is a common bandido," declared Don Luís Santana. Several others who were gathered around the lavish dinner table agreed with the younger man.

"And I maintain that El Zorro is not a common bandido, he is something much more," said Don Perón Vasquez. "It would take someone more cunning than a common bandido to elude the soldiers of the entire garrison of Los Angeles. Am I not right?" The portly gentleman looked around for support and was not disappointed as he heard agreement with his statement. He leaned back with a self satisfied look and puffed on his cigar.

Don Luís, an athletic man of about thirty years, fingered his mustache of which he was quite proud. "Any man who will only go about at night wearing a mask because he dare not show his face is nothing but a common criminal. The fact that a bunch of stupid soldiers cannot catch him means nothing," he said dismissively. Immediately, Don Perón and his supporters began to dispute this statement.

Señora Helena Del Fuego watched all of this with amusement. Ever since news of El Zorro had reached Mexico City, the bandido had provided grist for the mill in all of the social gatherings since then. At these dinners, which she hosted weekly, any news reaching the city was seized upon and discussed from every angle. Opinions were formed based on the tiniest tidbits and the holders defended their positions to the end. It made for lively entertainment.

So far, she had managed to sit back and study her guests and mark their positions without giving away her own. She decided to add a comment or two to heat things up a bit more. "Señores," she said. All eyes turned to her. "If a bandido's greatness is measured by the price he carries on his head, then Zorro must be the greatest California; indeed Mexico, has ever seen. I hear that the reward for his capture is now two thousand pesos." She was satisfied to hear several small gasps from around the table. She had gotten this news from a business associate who had just returned from Monterey.

"Surely this would seem to show that Zorro is not a 'common' bandido," she concluded with a charming smile directed at Don Luís.

He did not disappoint her. "Not at all, Señora! It merely means that there is no one in Los Angeles who is competent enough to catch Zorro and claim the previous rewards."

"It is said that he is the finest swordsman in all California and that he can walk through walls among other things," said Señora Helena. "Would this not make him difficult to capture by ordinary men? Say, by someone like yourself, Don Luís?" For all that she was twenty years his senior, she really did enjoy pricking the younger man's ego. She could see his annoyance grow as he felt that his ability with a sword was being compared to that of a lowly bandido and he did not miss being called ordinary, no matter how sweetly it had been done.

She turned the heat up a little more. "I agree with Don Perón that this bandido is cunning. And I say that it would take someone equally as cunning to bring the fox to ground and to discover his identity. Someone perhaps such as . . . ."

She was interrupted by Don Luís who said with a charming smile that belied his true feelings, "Someone such as yourself, Señora Del Fuego? We all," he gestured at the guests gathered at the table, "concede that you are a most intelligent woman, well able to achieve any goal you have set for yourself. Many of my colleagues here have had cause to regret trying to get the best of you in business matters." Several embarrassed looks were exchanged around the table. "Are you saying that you, Señora Del Fuego, would be the one who finally discovers Zorro's identity and claims the reward? I can think of no one more cunning than yourself." Don Luís executed a bow from his seat at the table.

Señora Helena suddenly found herself in a position she did not like. She was now on the defensive. If she did not take up the challenge, she would lose face in front of these men, thus weakening the position of power that she had built up over many years. It was this position that allowed her, as a woman, to manage the business that her late husband had left and to prosper by it. These weekly dinners that she hosted were as much to gather information on her colleagues and their affairs as they were to provide entertainment. She could sift through mountains of innocuous conversational details to find the nuggets that she could use to further her own interests. Only her intelligence and her ability to remain successful allowed them to accept her as their leader in these social gatherings. She did not intend to give that up.

So, even though she had not previously had any intention whatsoever of being the one to unmask Zorro she answered, "Why yes, Don Luís. I believe that I can unmask this Zorro and collect the reward." She smiled graciously. "And what of you? Do you think that you can defeat Zorro with the sword and collect the reward? The men of Los Angeles might appreciate someone who can show them how it is done. And who better than you to do so? There is none better in Mexico City with a sword." She was back on the offense now. She would make him prove himself.

"I know," she said. "Let us wager something to make it more interesting. I will wager five thousand pesos that I can do what you cannot; that is to unmask Zorro and learn his identity. Will you meet my challenge?"

Don Luís leaned forward and said, "Of course, Señora Del Fuego. I would be delighted to accept your wager." He leaned back and stroked his mustache with an air of bravado. "I will wager that piece of land that you have been wanting me to sell against your five thousand pesos that I will defeat this bandido and show him to be what he is; a common thief," he said with his eyes flashing.

"It is settled then," said Señora Helena. "Don Luís, I think I will need at least three weeks to set my affairs in order, but you are free to leave whenever you will. I rather believe that Zorro will still be there for me to unmask when I arrive in Los Angeles." She smiled just to see what effect it would have on Don Luís. She was not disappointed.

Don Perón, stood then and said "I propose we raise our glasses and toast these two brave souls. And may the best . . . er, um . . . señor or señora win." Glasses clinked all along the table. Señora Helena stood also, which signaled an end to the dinner. By twos and threes, the guests left for the evening. Don Luís and a couple of his friends remained behind. He was eager to win this wager against the Señora because she had caused him to lose face in front of the assembled guests and because she had cost him a lot of business when she had convinced the military here in Mexico to buy supplies from her company instead of his. If he could win this wager, he would regain some of the power he had lost to her. He also wanted very much to be able to remove the smile from her face.

He walked over to where she was saying goodnight to the last of the guests and sketched a bow in front of her. "I will take my leave of you, Señora, and be on my way to Los Angeles in the morning. I believe that I can save you the trip to the pueblo, as I plan to be back before your departure date with proof that I have been successful. What would satisfy you in that regard?"

"I have not given it much thought, Don Luís," she said. "But I think that if you bring me Zorro's mask and his sword, that would be proof enough. You won't mind if I continue with my own plans for the trip will you? Just in case Zorro, the fox, lives up to his name? And, will you accept the same tokens as proof of my success when I return?"

"As you wish, Señora Del Fuego," Don Luís said. "I will deposit the deed to the property with Don Perón before I go and I trust that you will deposit the five thousand pesos with him as well?" He knew he bordered on the edge of insulting her with his request, but he made it nevertheless. The señora bowed slightly to accede to his request, but he could tell she was quite irritated about it, though the smile never left her face. He smiled in return. "Then I will be going. Thank you for a most interesting evening, Señora Del Fuego." He and his friends left the room leaving the señora alone. She shook her head at herself. What had she gotten into? She felt that she was equal to the challenge, for what was Zorro but a man? But she surely hadn't planned on a trip to a remote outpost like Los Angeles.

As she walked out into the great hall from the dining room, she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror there. For a woman who had only recently reached the age of fifty years, she thought she was holding up fairly well. There was no grey in her hair as yet and her face was only now beginning to show any lines in it. She had kept a trim figure by being fairly active and riding her horse daily. She remembered fondly how she and her late husband used to go for long, early morning rides before breakfast. She looked to the other side of the hallway where two large portraits were hanging. One was of Señor Del Fuego, her husband. He had disliked this portrait, but she thought it charming. It captured the half smile that had always seemed to be on his face.

The other portrait was of a young man. As always, her heart ached in her breast whenever she looked at it. Alberto had only been seventeen when this portrait had been painted. In the painting, he was mounted on his favorite horse, Sindbad. Her son had died after Sindbad had stumbled and thrown him during a friendly race with some of his companions. He had never regained consciousness; slipping quietly into death. Sindbad had broken his leg and was put down. This portrait had been painted only two months before the fatal event. For the first year after his death, Señora Helena kept the painting in her room and mourned. Finally, her husband took it and placed it here in the great hall next to his own portrait. When he had tried everything else he could think of to console her, he began holding weekly dinners for their friends and colleagues which he made his wife attend. At first, she did not respond, but then it began to work. Slowly she began to take interest in life again. She learned how to cope with the loss.

Five years after Alberto died, her husband was stricken with a wasting illness which the doctors could not cure. Knowing that he was going to die, Esteban taught her everything he knew about the business he had built up. He did it not only so that she would be assured of an income, but to give her something to keep her mind busy so she would not withdraw as she had done at the death of her son. When Esteban died, she took hold of herself and the business and found that she was even better at managing it than he had been. She continued the weekly dinners as her husband had, and through the years they evolved into what they were today. Most of the other women had long ago stopped coming; they were bored by the endless business discussions and political arguments that were often the main topics. This did not bother Señora Helena. She became so engrossed in keeping ahead of the competition, be it in business or in social situations, that her heart gradually held no room for softness. She had hard decisions to make on a daily basis, and softness had no place in her life. She had gradually molded herself into what she was today. The only time she permitted herself to feel was when she stood here in front of these two portraits, remembering. Finally, she walked on toward the wing of her house containing her bedroom. She had never traveled far from Mexico City before, so this would be quite a change for her. She would keep her eyes open for any new business opportunities as she traveled. The reward for capturing the bandido Zorro would not be the only thing of value she would bring back from Los Angeles or she did not know Señora Helena Del Fuego.