The Law Dogs
1875, Montana Territory
US Deputy Marshall Dean Ambrose glared at the man sitting behind the desk. The dust of the trail still was still clinging to his hair and black ankle-length duster, turning both gray. "Hunter, we just got back, and Roman is injured." he growled.
District Judge Hunter Hearst Helmsley, sat back and steepled his fingers as he regarded Dean with narrowed eyes. "I know that," he said, "but I need you, Seth and Reigns on this immediately. The Wyatt gang needs to be brought in. They have robbed several Wells Fargo stages, which were carrying government payroll for troops stationed in the territories. Those lunatics need to be brought in for trial and that money recovered. "
Seth Rollins had been studying the wanted poster, his expression bemused. "Is that one seriously wearing a fucking sheep mask?" he asked. Roman Reigns leaned over Seth's shoulder to check. Yep, it was the mask of a sheep.
"Looks like he ain't playing with full deck," he observed, his black eyes narrowed. That last mission had been a close call for Roman and his wounds were still fresh. He moved a bit stiffly, favoring his left knee and the bandages on his left hand needed changing.
"None of them are," Judge Hunter said. "They have proven to be quite...sadistic," he said, his face twisted with distaste. "This is not optional, boys. This will not be allowed to continue. They have killed an entire posse already."
Dean ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, getting dust on Hunter's desk, which was the intent and judging by the judge's expression, it was not missed. "Alright, Seth and I will leave at first light," he started but Hunter interrupted.
"The three of you are on this," he ordered.
"Roman is not up for it," he argued but Roman wasn't having any of that.
"I'm fine," he growled at Dean. Dean glared at his fellow Marshall for contradicting him in front of the judge.
Hunter didn't even look at Roman. "All three of you are going, no arguing. This is a three man job."
Dean wanted to argue, but seeing Seth shaking his head, Dean shrugged and shut his mouth. There was no contradicting the authority on this and they knew it.
"Do they need to be living to stand trial?" Seth asked, changing the subject.
"No," Hunter replied, clearly relishing their capitulation. "The priority is to stop them and recover the money. You have your orders so get going. I have work to do."
Dean lead the others out of the office and out of the courthouse. "He is getting worse ever since he was appointed judge." he muttered.
They all knew Hunter had only gotten the position was because he was married to Stephanie McMahon, the daughter of Supreme Court Justice Vince McMahon. But anyone saying that out loud got on Hunter's bad side in a hurry.
Roman limped over to his big black gelding named Joe and unhitched his along with Dean's and Seth's mounts. "I'll take care of the horses while you guys get the provisions," he said.
"No, I'll take care of them, Dean will get provisions and you get your ass to Mark." Seth said. He knew Roman would be more apt to listen to him than Dean at the moment.
Dean nodded, giving Seth a look of thanks. "Get fixed up and meet us at the Boarding House."
Nodding reluctantly, Roman handed the reins to Seth and watched as the two other Marshals went about their tasks. A movement from the window above him drew his attention and he looked up at Hunter himself, smirking down at Roman. Roman had been less than discreet in questioning Hunter's judgment a while back, and as payment, had been given the most dangerous assignments the judge could come up with. So far he had come back alive, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he was given an assignment he wouldn't come back from.
He knew it would only stop if he crawled back to Hunter and licked his boots. But Roman would be dead before he gave Hunter that satisfaction. He had seen other law officers broken by the judge and did not want to end of like them.
Seth and Dean knew what was going on and so far had been able to keep Roman alive. But they had barely gotten there in time on that last mission to bring in the outlaw Alberto Del Rio from the Dakota Territory. He hated the thought of his friends put themselves in the middle of the feud between Hunter and himself, but Dean and Seth were determined to keep him alive, despite Hunter's slighted pride. Roman was humbled by their dedication.
He limped to the town's doctor and stepped in the door, calling out "Mark? Are you in?"
A huge figure stepped out from the back room. "Back so soon, Roman?" Mark was the local undertaker, and also the only person in the area with a medical degree. When he first met him, Mark's strange pale stare made Roman want to stay away, and deal with his own wounds, but now after so many visits he was used to it. "Need you to get me fixed up. I leave first thing in the morning."
Mark gestured for Roman to take a seat and began with his hand, unwrapping the bloody bandaging. Roman gritted his teeth and looked away from the wound.
"That one is pretty deep," Mark observed. He pulled out a bottle of brown liqueur and took a swig before dumping some onto the wound to clean it. Roman hissed as the sting hit him, but he didn't move.
"He is still trying to kill you," Mark said, readying the needle and thread.
"Yeah, I got that part," Roman answered. Mark was a strange duck, but he was also the only person in the area with absolutely no fear of the judge. Roman trusted him more than anyone who was not named Dean or Seth. "So what else is new? There is nothing I can do about the Authority."
Mark looked down at the young Marshall. He knew Roman Reigns had no choice but to do what the Authority said, he had taken the Oath. "Your friends are your only hope. " he said as he started stitching.
Roman shook his head. "You sent them to Dakota Territory, did you? Look, I appreciate it, but I do not want them killed because I shot my mouth off to an egomaniac judge with delusions of grandeur."
"It was their choice, I just told them where you were. Look at me, Roman," Roman looked at Mark, trying not to shiver under the intense gaze of the undertaker. "The Wyatts are not to be taken lightly. You need them. Let them help and together your are stronger than the Authority," Mark said.
Roman laughed, a hollow sound with no mirth. Mark was right, but then, he always was. "Alright, I'll stop fighting with Dean."
A ghost of smile was his answer.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading!