The sun was beginning to set over the pueblo, when Don Alejandro and his son, Diego entered the Tavern Victoria. It was relatively quiet night and Diego had been working late at The Guardian's office, since that paper was to be distributed the next morning. He and his father had a standing agreement to meet at the tavern for dinner on those nights. In the cozy tavern almost everyone was a regular that evening.
Everyone except for two men who Diego saw sitting in the corner. He noticed them immediately because they were obviously not Spanish and what was more an undercurrent of menace seemed to radiate from them. They didn't speak to each other, silently watching the room with an almost practiced sense of nonchalance. If Diego's own sense of danger and skills of observation weren't so practiced as well, he would probably have missed noticing them.
"Buenos tardes, Don Alejandro and Diego," Victoria Escalante, the tavern's namesake and proprietress, greeted the father and son with her customary charm and good humor.
"Buenos tardes, Victoria!" Don Alejandro said. Diego was able to smile and nod in her direction, but his mind was still on the two strangers. What were they planning? Would they strike now? Should he leave immediately to return masked and armed? His quick mind worked furiously and in the end he decided that to leave would only put Victoria and her customers in more danger. What if he came back too late? He couldn't possibly risk it.
As Diego was lost in thought, Victoria seated them at their usual table. She chatted a little with his father about the weather and as she already knew what they'd require, left without taking their orders.
Diego's father was speaking to him, but he could not pay attention. He kept glancing at the men in the corner with growing unease.
"Diego!" his father was raising his voice now. Diego turned his eyes to his the older caballero apologetically. "You haven't heard a word I said."
"I'm sorry, father," Diego answered. "What was it you were saying?"
Don Alejandro shook his head.
"I was telling you about my old friend, Pumphrey who is arriving tomorrow along with his daughter."
He then proceeded to tell Diego about his friend and this time Diego pretended to carefully listen while keeping a trained eye on the strangers.
As the evening progressed, Diego kept stalling a return to the hacienda, and slowly the tavern emptied. Finally, with only a handful of patrons left, the tension gave, but the first antagonists didn't come from where Diego had expected.
On the opposite side of the room from the strangers, Diego heard an almost imperceptible gasp from a familiar voice. Victoria.
A man, who Diego recognized as Juan Salazaar, had Victoria at what looked to be knife point. He couldn't see the knife, but Juan was holding her far too close and too cruelly with one of his hands low and out of view. Diego was sure he had a knife. Juan was a known troublemaker when he was drunk. Diego had seen Victoria handle the man with ease when he was in his cups and became what she called, "handsy." A troublemaker, but mostly harmless, he'd thought.
"Now, I don't want any trouble," Juan began. "I just want all the money in that there strongbox." He motioned to the bar and the box he presumed to be hidden behind. "You," he gruffly called to one of Victoria's barmaids. "Empty it, and give it all to me."
The young woman looked terrified and seemed to be rooted in her spot behind the bar. Everyone else in the tavern seemed similarly afflicted. Diego was about to speak when someone else beat him too it.
"I suggest you let the Senorita go." The voice came from the other side of the room; the stranger was moving toward the confrontation.
"Don't come any closer." Juan had pulled Victoria in front of him, using her body as a shield. He had one hand around her waist and the other holding what was now clearly a knife at her side. The stranger stopped halfway across the room, but on his face was a look of grim determination.
"If you hurt the senorita, you'll regret it." He spoke in heavily accented Spanish, and his voice never wavered. He was stating a fact not voicing opinion.
"Oh, yeah?" Juan was clearly beginning to panic. This stranger was a serious threat. "Why?"
"Because," the stranger said coolly. "My friend behind you will take exception to it."
Juan turned to look behind him at the other stranger, whom Diego had almost forgotten.
He was grinning evilly and pointing a dangerous looking gun at Juan's head. At the same time the other man had worked quickly pulling Victoria out of Juan's grasp and punching him full in the face. In a matter of seconds, the first stranger had Juan's arm behind his back and face on the table in front of him.
"I'm now going to suggest you leave this tavern. Do you understand?" When Juan did not answer he was slammed hard against the table. "Understand?"
"Si, senor." He finally gasped. "I understand." With that he was gone.
The second man was still grinning, but now his grin was mirthful. He looked like he was about to burst out laughing. The first man's face was inscrutable. He purposefully moved back toward the table he had recently vacated.
Diego approached Victoria who was visibly shaken.
"Are you alright?" he asked. He grasped her forearms as she regained her breath, and looked into her face intently. After a moment she met his eyes.
"Yes," she smiled faintly. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now." Diego let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She pulled away from him and went to thank her rescuers.
"Senors, I must thank you," she spoke warily to the strangers. Diego and Don Alejandro, who had just joined them, stood behind her. Diego wasn't willing to see her in two dangerous situations in one night. The two men rose as soon as Victoria spoke to them. Since the tension had broken, the second man was acting as if a veil had been lifted, smiling jovially, but the first stranger looked almost grimmer than before. Diego studied them more fully now that they were in close quarters and the danger had passed.
The second man, the one who had wielded the pistol, was the older of the two. Silver was just beginning to form in the dark hair on his temples and in his beard. He had smiling eyes and laugh lines crinkled there and around his mouth. He was a stout man, verging on portly and seemed harmless. If Diego hadn't just seen him wield a gun with wicked intent, he might not have believed him capable of it.
The first man was something completely different. Almost the former man's complete opposite. Tall and powerfully built, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes. He would have been handsome, but for the scar that ran along left check. An aura of palpable danger seemed to radiate from him, as if he was holding himself in check every moment. He put Diego in mind of panther he'd once seen caged in a zoo in Madrid in his college days. It had been pacing back and forth restlessly, and it gave one the feeling if released it would pounce on whoever was closest. Diego's first assessment seemed correct, that this man was one to be watched critically.
"It was nothing, really," the dangerous one said. "Only an Englishman's duty."
The jovial one took the senorita's hand to bow over it.
"And an Irishman's pleasure," he said good naturedly. "Allow us to introduce ourselves, I'm Sgt. Fitzgerald and this here," he said gesturing toward his companion. "This grump… is Major Wright." The Major looked up annoyed at the sergeant, and then as if shamed into good manners bowed politely and precisely over Victoria's hand.
Victoria smiled, charmed by the sergeant's affability.
"I am a Victoria Escalante and this is Don Alejandro de la Vega and his son Don Diego," she gestured to the two men and the strangers nodded their heads in greeting.
"Now, if you will excuse us, Fitzgerald and I must be on our way," The man mentioned looked at the major in surprise, but then in a resigned voice said, "Oh, aye. We must."
"Well, adios," Victoria said and the two caballeros echoed her sentiment. Victoria left to take care of her remaining customers and begin to clean up. As Diego and his father were walking away, Diego heard the sergeant mumble in English, "It weren't too long ago you'd be charming a piece like that, and I'd be begging to get to leave." Trying not to be obvious Diego looked back at them with the corner of his eye and saw the murderous look that quieted the Irishman.
