The Wild Wild West

The Night of the Deadly Codename

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters from the show (and other shows) are not mine. Any remaining characters and the story are mine! This is a direct continuation of the timeline begun with The Night of the Lazarus and The Night of the Time Travel. While it would probably be a good idea to have read those stories first, I will try to explain the basic plot of the timeline within the early part of this story, for those who would rather just dive in. And one important note for this story: joining the main cast from the first two stories is a mysterious fellow I'm calling Lucius. He's from the episode of The Fugitive entitled Masquerade, and he's listed in the cast as Pinto. Considering that he shares several traits with the Wild Wild West Pinto (even the actor!), I found that far too amusing to pass up.

Chapter One

Somewhere in the Midwestern United States, circa 2010

It was amazing, how much everything in one body could and did hurt all at once. As he regained consciousness, his body flatly informed him that pain was going to be a predominant factor in his life for the next indeterminable amount of time. And as he turned and blearily spied an unfamiliar older man standing over his bedside, he suddenly wondered how long his life was going to be.

"What is this?" he mumbled. His mouth and throat felt like sandpaper. "Who are you?"

The man held up his identification, at the same time saying, "I believe a more proper question at this time would be, Who are you? We have no record of you in our files. And your fingerprints are drawing a blank with the police."

His lips curled in a smirk. "Pinto. That's all you're getting out of me."

The older man's only response was a slight lifting of the eyebrows. "That's an unusual codename."

"Maybe I like horses. Or the beans." The injured fellow smirked more, enjoying the level of confusion he was creating.

"Maybe you do. However, one thing we know for certain that you like is apples. You left quite a trail of them all the way back to your motel room. A room where, I might add, you registered as Lucius Bowen."

A shrug. "So?"

"So, Mr. Bowen, I should inform you that you were picked up by the local police following your failed attempt to kill a Mrs. Leonard Hull. Due to your injuries from being attacked by her mysterious protector, you were brought to the prison ward of the nearest general hospital. And that is where you came to the attention of my organization."

Lucius's lip curled. "And just why is your organization so interested in a common hired gun? I took a job for Buddy Blackburn; that's all. Isn't that a little low-key compared to what your people usually deal with?"

"Ordinarily, yes. But not when Mr. Blackburn is not only an established kingpin of organized crime, but also a notorious agent of the international crime syndicate that my people so often tangle with."

Lucius had trained himself not to reveal what he was thinking. But on this occasion his eyes flickered. "I guess it figures that you of all people would know about that."

"Yes. And it's safe to say that Mr. Blackburn is now aware that you've fallen into our hands."

Fear flashed through Lucius's brown eyes. "He'll kill me!" he exclaimed. "I wasn't supposed to know about his spying, but I found out by accident and he knows it. He only left me alive because he had more work for me to do right then. But now he'll take out another contract, this time on me, and someone will come sneaking right into this hospital to take me out!"

"That's no doubt what he'll want to do and most likely will try to do. But, Mr. Bowen, that's why I've come with an alternate proposal for you."

"You want me to testify against him, just like the local police," Lucius sneered. "Only you want me to tell about this other life of his, the one that your people are after him for. Well, sorry. That's not going to happen. I wouldn't live to reach the courthouse. And don't give me that song-and-dance about police protection. They're not able to save every witness that comes along."

"That's true. No, what I have in mind is something markedly different." The visitor paused, deliberately, and Lucius fixed him with an expectant stare.

"Well? You've got my attention. Tell me what you're after."

Without hesitation the older man said, "Tell my men all that you know about Mr. Blackburn and his exploits into international espionage. Help them bring him down. In return, you will be kept safe from Blackburn's men, but not by being under police protection or even the watchful eye of my organization. Instead, you will be hidden from them right under their very noses.

"As distasteful as it is, there are times when men with your . . . skills are needed on our side, too. Come and work for me."

Lucius stared at him. "You have got to be kidding."

The visitor's eloquent speech pattern developed an edge. "I've never been more serious. Right now, Mr. Bowen, you are our only link with Mr. Blackburn's espionage activities. Mr. Hull has no idea of this aspect of his former employer's life. And Mr. Blackburn, as well as all of the men who work with him on these matters, must be stopped. Bringing down his organized crime rackets will not halt the spying."

Lucius looked away and shook his head. "So I'm your only hope, eh? Oh brother, are you in trouble. What makes you think you can trust me from here to that doorknob?"

"Quite frankly, I don't know that I can. I can only hope, due to the efficiency with which you likely handle yourself on your . . . . assignments. Mr. Blackburn doesn't hire anyone he considers inferior or incompetent. If you're paid well enough, you should be willing to extend the same efficiency and loyalty to us as you did to Mr. Blackburn."

"You can't tell me the local police like this idea."

"Not in the least. But I've managed to impress upon them some of the magnitude of what we're faced with. I doubt very much that Mrs. Hull was your first target, and it's certainly true that I find your kind repugnant. However, what's happening behind the scenes on the espionage front is so much bigger than one contract killer. Whether the local authorities like it or not, whether I like it or not, I have had to come to you with this proposal."

Lucius frowned. "I can always turn you down."

"If you refuse," was the calm reply, "I will see to it that you remain in the custody of the local police. And as you yourself admitted, Mr. Blackburn is likely already seeking to bring about the end of your life. I cannot guarantee your safety if you stay here."

"You can't guarantee it anywhere else, either," Lucius muttered.

"You're right, of course. But you would stand a better chance with us. Even if Mr. Blackburn suspects that we have you, he could never imagine that it would be as an agent."

"I couldn't imagine it, either." But Lucius paused, mulling over the problem in his mind. ". . . How much time do I have to decide?"

"You can surely answer that question yourself, can't you? If you think an assassin may already be on his way . . ."

"Alright, alright!" Lucius held up a hand for silence and then winced as he pulled an already-sore muscle. "I'll help you. Maybe I'll even work for you. Just get me out of here."

The older man nodded, pleased. "Done."

"And . . . one more condition to this deal."

A stern look. "And what, might I ask, is that?"

Lucius slowly smirked. "All the apples I can eat?"

His visitor rolled his eyes Heavenward. "Oh, good Heavens, man." But he gave a curt nod. "Yes, you may buy as many apples as you like. You'll be given a regular salary, the same as any other agent."

Lucius leaned back. "Fine. You know, I come from a long line of career criminals. I never thought I'd ever end up working for the good guys."

"Up until the very moment I spoke, I struggled with whether to even extend the invitation," was the sighed response.

"You must be really desperate for what I can tell you."

"That would be putting it mildly. It's not an exaggeration if I tell you that the entire fate of the world could hang in the balance."

Lucius considered that and nodded. "Have me taken out of here and we'll talk," he said. "I'll tell you now, you might be right about that 'world' bit."

Los Angeles, California, December 2012

Coley Rodman kept alert as he roamed the extensive grounds of the Oak Bridge Golf Club. He had left the golf cart somewhere back on the green; he grew restless if he rode in it for too long. For the most part he preferred to walk.

The events of the last few weeks still seemed unreal to him. Two months earlier, he had still been an outlaw on the run for his life in 1874. Then Secret Service agent Jim West had apparently been killed in an explosion and Artemus Gordon had believed Coley responsible. Coley had teamed up with Arte to find the real culprits. In the process they had discovered that Jim was alive and that a mad scientist was reviving all of the notorious Lucrece Posey gang. And while restoring the last two members, their machines had overloaded and sent everyone to the present day.

Coley had met his best friend Ray Norman here. It was his golf club where Coley now worked as chief of security. While Ray had been nursing him back to health following the cruel and inhuman torture Little Pinto had heaped on him, Coley had found himself gradually beginning to care about Ray and wanting to make a clean, honest slate of his life.

Jim and Arte had come to care about him too, and when they had finally opened the portal between their time periods, they had not tried to force Coley to come with them. They had gone back to report to their superior and fully intended to soon be back here, in hopes of tracking down the Posey gang. At the same time, due to Coley's vital role in the Dr. Faustina case, Arte was petitioning for Coley to be granted full immunity so that he could return to 1874 and visit his mother when he wanted.

For the first time in years, Coley was a free man, at least in this time period. It was a liberating feeling, a heavy weight off of his shoulders. He had grown to loathe running. And even if Arte could not secure the immunity, Coley never had to worry about running here. He was happy living straight, with Ray and the adoring cat owned by Mrs. Featherstone, a permanent guest.

"Coley?"

He gave a violent start. The voice was familiar. And as he turned to face the speaker, his eyes widened in surprise. The voice's owner was familiar, too.

The other party felt the same about him. "Well, I'll be. It really is you!" he grinned, coming closer. "What's going on, Coley? What are you doing in a fancy place like this?"

Coley gave a dark, somewhat uncomfortable smirk. "I'd think you'd have more pressing questions than that, Lafe—such as what am I doing in a time like this."

Lafe shrugged. "Oh, I figured you'd just come through that weird door on the mountain, like I did." He looked around the golf club in noticeable appreciation. "This looks like a sweet place to knock over."

"Lafe!" Coley snapped to attention, gripping his former confederate's shoulders. "There's not going to be any knocking over. I work here. I live here."

Lafe started, staring at his old friend. "You're not saying it . . . really is true?" he said in disbelief. "I know I heard the rumors. And I heard about the government thinking about pardoning you, but I thought it was all a trick on your part, some new plan of yours to make it rich."

Coley gripped tighter. "You should know me better than that, Lafe." But then he sighed and his anger passed and he released the other man. "It's all true. I've gone straight. I hoped maybe you and the others would've got wise and done the same."

"Coley . . ." Lafe hooked his thumbs through his gun belt. "We all met up out in the desert and spread out looking for you. We were hoping to all get back together, like old times."

"Well, I'm sorry you wasted your time." Coley stepped back. "That's all past now. If you and the others still want to run around raising Cain and robbing towns blind, you'll be doing it without me. And if you so much as try to knock over this golf club, I'll have to stop you." He touched the gun at his side.

"You really are serious." Instead of getting angry, Lafe just sounded disbelieving, perhaps a bit sad. "Oh, hey, look, Coley." He grabbed at Coley's arm and felt it go stiff in his grasp. "I wouldn't go against you. If you want to lay low and stay honest, I won't interfere."

Coley looked at him. "What about the others? Would they feel the same?"

"I guess I lead them now," Lafe realized. "They won't go against what I tell them."

Coley wasn't as sure. He knew how quickly criminals could turn against each other. But he nodded, giving Lafe and the entire old gang the benefit of a doubt.

"I wouldn't betray you, Coley," Lafe insisted, seeing Coley's hesitance. "I owe you for saving my life back at the tower."

Coley raised an eyebrow. "How did I do that?"

"That crazy doc was shooting at me, wasn't he? I only saw him out of the corner of my eye because I was fighting with West, but . . ."

"I didn't know who he was shooting at," Coley replied honestly. "I thought it was me. But I guess it could have been you. Or both of us. We were standing pretty close together.

"Even if I saved you from that, though, I plugged you in the arm a few minutes later."

"Oh, that was an accident," Lafe said with a wave of his hand. "You were trying to get West, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was." Coley glanced around, uneasy and uncertain. "But I should tell you, I'm not trying to go after West or Gordon now. If they should turn up here, and you're still here, that's fine by you. Got it?"

Lafe shrugged. "As long as they don't try to get me."

He started to follow Coley along the perimeter of the property. "Are you really going to stay here all the time, Coley? I mean, supposing that petition goes through. Won't you be planning to come home?"

Coley looked back to him. "This is home now. If you want to go back, go ahead."

He had to admit, he was wondering how things would go if Lafe decided to hang around. Lafe seemed to have no desire to change from his law-breaking ways. That was how Coley had felt, a long time ago when he had first started running for his life. Then the endless days, months, and years had wore him down into the tired, resigned, and determined man who just wanted it to stop and was willing to throw his old life away to do it.

"Coley . . ." Lafe stopped walking and just looked at him. "What happened to you? Out of everybody, we figured that if just one of us stayed the same, it would be you. We thought you'd be looking forward to some new heists. And especially here, no one would even know what to make of it! They don't know who you are."

"They do now," Coley returned. "This place is pretty well-known in the city. Anyway, I'm happy here, Lafe. I'm not going to do anything to spoil that." He leaned on the gate, staring towards the nearest mountain. "As for what happened to me . . . well, that's a long story. I couldn't really talk about it out here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Lafe replied. He came and propped himself on the gate with an elbow, watching his former boss.

At last Coley let out a weary sigh. "Alright. Come with me back to the place and we'll talk."

xxxx

A silver, fluffy Persian was waiting right by the door when Coley led the way into the main lobby. She meowed in greeting, coming out to rub against him. As Lafe watched in disbelieving amazement, Coley bent down and lifted her up.

"Hey, Jane. Where's Ray?"

Jane merowed, nuzzling him.

"You have a cat?" Lafe exclaimed.

"Nah." Coley patted Jane and set her down. "She belongs to a guest here. She just comes around."

"She sure seems to like you," Lafe noted.

Coley shrugged. "I still don't know why, either. She just showed up on my first night here and kept hanging around me. I'd say she has weird tastes, but she's crazy about Ray too, and Ray's great in my book."

"Who's Ray?"

Before Coley could answer, the harried blond man himself appeared on the scene. "Coley?" He smiled in relief to see him there. "Oh good, you're back. I just received a phone call that the Stones are on their way. The wife is bringing a fortune in jewels with her and we have to be on hand to take them and make sure they're put in the safe. . . ." He trailed off, suddenly seeing Lafe and his goggle-eyed interest in the conversation. His stomach dropped. "Excuse me, who are . . ."

"Ray, this is Lafe." Coley jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Lafe, Ray."

Ray blinked in surprise. "Not the same Lafe who . . . worked with you?"

"The same." Coley nodded. "He came through the portal." He shot Ray a Look that said, When West and Gordon get back, we're going to have to find out if something can be done about that. Who knew who else might come traipsing through the time doorway by accident? Since the opening was in the middle of nowhere on its other side, they very likely would only gather outlaws and other riffraff. Most respectable people would not be wandering in the desert where the portal was.

Lafe was still trying to decide what to make of Ray. "This guy knows about us?" he hissed in amazement.

"Ray knows about everything," Coley stressed.

Ray looked like he wasn't sure what to make of Lafe's presence, either, particularly right at this point. "Well," he said at last, struggling to be polite, "I'm glad to meet you at last. Coley told me a lot about you. I'm sorry you couldn't have come at a different time; we're going to be overbooked this weekend. There just isn't any place you can stay."

"That's alright; I probably couldn't afford you anyway." Lafe grabbed Coley and stepped to the side with him. "Coley, if he's telling the truth, all those jewels are going to walk right through the door any minute!" He was whispering now, albeit he imagined Ray knew that he had taken an interest in the news.

"I know they are," Coley retorted. "We've known about it for days."

"And you're really not tempted?!"

"To throw away everything I've worked hard to gain? No." Coley frowned. Undoubtedly the sight of the jewels would stir something in him, but he was not going to act on whatever he might feel. It was a superficial pleasure and that was all.

"What could you have gained that those rocks couldn't give you more of?" Lafe persisted.

Coley gave him a long, hard look. "I can't explain it to you, Lafe. No one could explain it to me; I had to learn it."

Lafe had no chance to reply before the door flew open and Artemus Gordon strolled in, followed by James West. "Hello, hello!" Arte chirped, seeing both Coley and Ray in the lobby. "Ah, it's good to be back in the 21st century." Then, belatedly noticing Lafe, he tensed. "Er, have we come at a bad time?"

"No!" Ray exclaimed. He looked visibly relieved to see the Secret Service agents. "No, this is a good time. We're just preparing for the arrival of some important guests."

"I see we weren't the only ones to use the portal lately," Jim intoned.

"I was just making a social call," Lafe said. "When I saw Coley here, well, I couldn't help but stop in and say Hello." He patted Coley on the shoulder and started to back towards the doors. "I'll just be going now. See you later, Coley. I'm glad you're okay."

Coley turned to watch him, not convinced that there wasn't going to be trouble. "Where will you go?"

Lafe shrugged. "I'm sure I'll find something." He slipped through the doors, nearly clanking into a woman laden with furs on the walkway. "Oh, excuse me, Ma'am." He skittered to the side, touching the brim of his hat.

Ray ran a hand over his face. "That's Mrs. Stone," he groaned. "I hope this isn't an indication of how their entire stay here will go."

Coley exhaled in exasperation. "Sorry, Ray. Lafe just showed up like he said and told me the whole gang has got back together and is looking for me. I think Lafe's the only one who found the portal, though."

Arte shook his head. "I've been worrying about things like this happening," he admitted. "I've been trying to come up with a way to really make the portal like a door, something that can be opened or closed at will. And no one who isn't looking for it would find it."

"That sounds great," Coley said, crossing his arms. "But can you do it?"

"I don't know," Arte said, spreading his hands.

Jim smiled. "If he can't, we really do have a problem."

Ray managed a smile too. "It really is good to see both of you again," he said. "I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but it feels so much longer."

Coley nodded, heading for the doors. "We have a lot of catching up to do," he said. "Right now, though, we have to get these people in here and get their goods in the safe." Mrs. Stone was almost at the door now, escorted by both her husband and two security guards. Coley pulled the door open for them as they arrived.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Stone," Ray greeted as he followed Coley to the entrance. "I hope your trip here was satisfactory?"

Mr. Stone glanced to him, seeming preoccupied. "Hmm? Oh, why yes, it was very nice indeed."

"May we inspect your safe, Mr. Norman?" Mrs. Stone queried.

"Of course. But I can assure you both, it's just as secure as it was on your last visit. In fact, it's probably more secure. May I present my new chief of security, Coley Rodman." Ray regarded his friend with pride.

"I was thinking you were new," Mr. Stone said. "When did Mr. Norman hire you?"

"Not too long ago," Coley said. He wasn't that crazy about having to associate with the various high-falutin' guests who passed through the golf club. He felt out of place in their world. But he was willing to put up with that; he liked his job and he wanted to be there with Ray.

"Well, I hope you really are good at your job, young man," Mrs. Stone declared. "These jewels have to be protected!"

Coley tried to bite back a retort of I'm not that young. Instead he half-growled, "I know how to take care of jewels, Mrs. Stone. You don't have anything to worry about."

At least, he thought, remembering Lafe, he hoped there was nothing to worry about.

Jim and Arte stood by, watching them head down the hall towards the offices and the safe. "That was interesting," Jim commented.

"Ohh, to put it mildly," Arte said. "Coley must be on his way to developing the patience of Job, to deal with people like that." He chuckled. "I can't say I envy him."

Jim shrugged. "He'll make out." Suddenly noticing a scrap of paper on the floor, he blinked and reached for it. "Mrs. Stone must have dropped this. I noticed a piece of paper hanging out of her pocket when she walked in."

"I wonder if it's important?" Arte mused. "I suppose you'd better go give it back to her, Jim." But then he stiffened, seeing Jim unfolding it. "I didn't know you were in the habit of reading other people's messages. It's a federal offense to tamper with the mail, you know."

Jim did not answer. He had thought he had seen something strange shining through the blank side of the paper. Now that he had it unfolded, he saw what it was. And he was more bewildered than ever, not to mention concerned.

"Arte . . ." He held it out. "Look at this."

Arte sighed. "Well, I suppose since you've already looked at it, there's no harm in me having a peek too. . . ." He trailed off, staring at the paper in shock. "'Beware of Codename Pinto'?!" he read.

Jim nodded. "Codename Pinto." He folded the paper again. "I only know of one person who uses that codename."

"And last we knew, he was still running free in this time period," Arte groaned. "Oh no. Jim, what if this note refers to him?"

"I don't know, Arte." Jim moved to head down the hall after the departed group. "But I do know we'd better stick close to the Stones and try to find out."