Author's notes - This story takes part on the 3rd challenge "An Unexpected Gift", which should include: someone must receive an unexpected gift; the alcalde's desk must be mentioned; Zorro must hang from the chandelier; someone should get wet on a storm; there should be a scene from an actual episode.
This is a continuation from my story taking part in the first challenge "Too much wine", and the second challenge "A Death in the Pueblo." I thought it was an interesting idea to write 3 linked stories with the requirements for the 3 challenges. In the end, it was a much bigger challenge, with Part 3 getting out of hand on the word count.
There are a few original characters introduced on the first part. You should read PART 1 and 2 of "A New Swordsman in Los Angeles" first, or you won't have a clue what's going on, with Diego married to a stranger. ;)
WARNING: again, a few injuries and detailed, realistic medical treatments. Nothing too alarming, but skip those if you don't like blood and pain (but that was real life for a surgeon at a time without painkillers and proper anaesthetics.)
The story gets darker as new baddies come along, with some scenes of sexual violence (some bits will be marked as M/MA for explicit contents, but there are warnings to skip those.) Apart from those specific bits, I kept the story T-rated as a whole.
DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intent for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions Inc. except the original characters created by me (i.e. the Blasco family and Roberto Malpartida).
A New Swordsman in Los Angeles
Part 3
Chapter 22 – Unexpected news
The special mixture was working better than expected. On his reflection in the mirror, Diego could hardly see any traces of the scars on his torso. However, down at the cave, the dim light provided by the candles was not the best one to appreciate the full effect of his new invention, so he got upstairs to look at it by daylight. When he opened the secret door behind the fireplace he startled Felipe, who was quietly reading in the library.
"Felipe, come with me. I want to show you something."
Quite intrigued, the young man followed Diego to his room.
"Look at this. Can you see the scars?" Diego said, taking his shirt off.
Felipe approached him and touched the spots where he knew the scars were, but he could not see them. He shook his head, amazed, with a broad smile.
"I have been working on this for a few days. I want to surprise Cristina; she doesn't like scars," Diego said with a cheeky wink. "And it may come in handy if I ever need to conceal them. This is the paste," he said, handing it over. "Help me to cover them all. I can't reach some of them, specially the gunshot on my back. You'll have to apply several layers, letting it dry in between, and then cover it with this powder to match my skin tone."
Felipe did as instructed. It took him a while, because Diego's body was covered with marks, new and old. It was sort of a miracle he didn't have any on his face or neck, which would have been very obvious for everybody, making the task of identifying him as Zorro a piece of cake.
"That's perfect. Thank you, Felipe. Now I have to find out how long I can leave it on before it rubs off." He slipped his clothes back on. "Hopefully it will last until tonight."
He laughed, slapping Felipe's shoulder on their way out. The youngster smiled back with an understanding cheeky look on his face.
ZZZ
The time had come to walk away; the patient wait was over. After collecting his weapons and his blue coat, which hung quite loose as he had lost so much weight, he started to slowly make his way downstream. Coming out of his prison, he focused on the difficult task ahead: descending down the narrow canyon, all the way thinking about that glorious moment when he finally would be able to release the vast amount of hatred he had bottled up inside. A sinister grin distorted his face while dreaming up his enemy's fate, a certain death by his hand.
ZZZ
That night, an exhausted Cristina lay in bed half asleep already, waiting for Diego, who was taking his time to get undressed. Her day had been quiet and boring, but she felt as if she had been running non-stop for 24 hours, and all she wanted to do was to fall asleep.
"Do you see anything different?" Diego said while walking slowly around the room in his underwear, stretching his arms wide open and turning round a couple of times, proudly showing his muscular torso. Cristina blinked drowsily. She didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and finally said, uncertain:
"Uh… did you shave?"
"No! Pay more attention, will you?" he said slightly cross, turning round again. Then she realized.
"The scars. They are gone!" she gasped, sitting up a bit. "How did you do that?"
"I have been working on a special concealer, just for you," he said, winking. "It is a shame, because if I keep using this cream, I won't be cool anymore. But you will be happy, no hideous scars to bother your eyes."
"Stop using that silly word," she said, elbowing him when he jumped in bed close to her. She accommodated her head on his now unscarred torso, her favourite pillow. "Cool? It doesn't make sense. You are not cold, if anything you are warmer than a burning fireplace." She kissed his warm skin and hugged him while yawning. "And I love you, all of you, so that means I also love your scars. No need to hide them," she added with a sluggish, somnolent voice.
Diego pushed her gently away from him, back on her pillow, and then reached for her mouth. She reacted weakly to the kiss, lifting her left arm around his neck, but soon her hand slipped down back on the bed when she fell asleep in his arms. He was disappointed, but he smiled looking at her adorable, beautiful face.
"I love you too," he whispered, tenderly kissing her forehead. Then, he turned to lie on his back, and with great care he lifted her limp head to place it back on top of his chest. He fell asleep shortly after while caressing her gorgeous, shiny dark hair.
ZZZ
A very distressed Felipe rushed into the library the next day. He was out of breath, red faced and sweaty, and eager to communicate something to Diego.
"Felipe, what's wrong?"
The young man started to gesticulate frantically, moving his arms like a windmill.
"Please, slow down, I can't understand you."
Felipe ran his hands over his head, puffing in frustration, and started again, slower this time.
"So, you were at the ravine today… and you looked down into the precipice again... Why? You shouldn't do that. I told you it is dangerous. Cristina nearly fell down because a portion collapsed and—"
Felipe shook his head and grabbed Diego's arm, shaking it to make him shut up and listen, and he continued signing.
"What? You could only see one body at the bottom?"
Felipe nodded vigorously.
"Are you sure? There should be two bodies there quite close together, unless they were taken by predators. Calm down, we will go and have a look again. I am sure there should be a logical explanation for that."
Two months had passed since that day when the Cossack brothers chased him to the other side of the ravine, where two men plunged to their death. Diego had recovered quite well from all his injuries, but he was still convalescent regaining his strength, especially on his left arm, which was significantly weaker after all that time immobile in the bulky sling so the muscles could heal without tension.
Only five days ago Zorro had been out exercising Toronado on a gentle ride, and they had been in that area close to the ravine. Diego, not very proud of the fact he had killed one of the Russians in self-defence, had looked down from the edge to check on the bodies. He would have preferred to have them properly buried, but nobody had bothered to try to reach them as it would have been quite difficult, if not impossible. That day he clearly saw two body shapes at the bottom, and it was quite hard to imagine the situation would have changed, so he assumed Felipe was confused. Nonetheless, he went along with him to check, to calm him down.
"Where are you going, handsome prince of coolness?" Cristina said when she saw the pair getting their horses ready by the main entrance, fastening the girth straps. "Are you well enough to ride?"
Diego chuckled facing the saddle; she didn't know yet he had been out as Zorro. He turned around to face her.
"Of course I am, dear, don't worry. Would you like to join us?" he offered.
She had recovered from her injuries herself, and she was very keen to ride again —especially now that she could finally ride like a man, astride, without the uncomfortable sidesaddle— but she had to decline the offer. She would love to go riding with them, but, for the last couple of days, she had felt run down on energy, and most food would make her heave, especially in the mornings. She suspected the cause for this, but she had not confirmed it yet. Men didn't talk about female morning sickness at the taverns, so she would have to ask her mother about it. She sighed at the thought of another talk with her.
"No, I can't. Maybe the next time. I don't feel very well today."
"What's wrong?" Diego asked, concerned. It was unusual for her to fall asleep as she did the night before.
"Oh, nothing specific. I am just tired. Don't worry, enjoy the ride," she said, turning around to go back to the house. Half way on, she turned to face them again.
"Behave yourself, don't overdo it," she warned with her finger pointing at her husband. Diego laughed while mounting up the saddle, shaking his head.
"After your warning I wouldn't dare, querida. I am not that brave. See you later."
He spurred his horse and they trotted away, followed by Felipe and his pinto.
ZZZ
To Diego's surprise, Felipe was right. There was only one body at the bottom of the ravine, where it should have been two.
"I don't understand. I could see two bodies there less than a week ago," he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking down from the ravine's edge.
"So, what should we do?" Felipe signed.
"We have to find a way to go down to check what happened. It is hard to believe a man could have survived that fall. Sure the Russian cannot be alive after all this time," he muttered, but he started to have the unsettling feeling that was precisely the case.
They mounted back on their horses and rode downstream for a couple of miles, closer to the spot where it was possible to come down the canyon to cross the river. Leaving the horses tied up to a thick branch, they continued on foot following the stream toward the spot where the bodies were, two miles upstream from there. All the way up, Diego scrutinized the ground looking for clues.
"There, look!" he exclaimed, pointing to a distinctive set of human prints in the soft ground on the river bank. The prints where heading downstream, to the point where they had entered the canyon.
Felipe signed again.
"Could it be someone who has come to bury the body? I don't know, maybe. Let's go further up to find out."
Diego frowned because he could not see any other footprints heading up. Their own prints were clearly visible behind them, so it looked like nobody had come upstream before them, only down. As the canyon walls grew taller and the passage narrowed, they had difficulty to climb up some of the water jumps along the wet, large stones. They had been struggling for a while and were about to give up, when suddenly they spotted the first body lying on the river bank. It was greatly decomposed, and stunk so much they had to cover their faces with their sleeves. Vladimir's body wasn't there, and there were no signs of a burial in the area. What they could find was a pile of human waste further up, and remains of a fire with some fish backbones lying by. They also found a small cave that could have been used for shelter, and an incongruous but convenient apple tree growing at the bottom of the gorge, with a large amount of ripe apples covering the ground.
"I'll be damned. He did survive," Diego said looking up to the edge, which was a long distance away, whistling with admiration. "Who would have thought that was possible? Well, we can see he had cooked fish and lots of apples to survive, and plenty of fresh water. I guess he left his coat on the ground so nobody would suspect he was alive, but I don't know with what purpose."
Felipe signed, finishing drawing a Z in the air.
"Revenge? From Zorro? Possibly…Maybe he was afraid I would come down here to kill him if I knew he had survived. But, on the other hand, the other bounty hunters would have helped him if they knew he was alive. Nobody bothered because we didn't think it was possible to survive the fall. Let's go back home, we know all we need to know from here."
"Where is he now?" Felipe signed.
"I don't know. That's the next thing we need to find out, but not here. Come on," Diego said, covering his face again when he passed close to the cadaver on his way down. He considered the unpleasant task to bury such a decomposed body, but he decided against it, because they didn't have the tools and the stench was unbearable.
ZZZ
"Mother, I need to talk to you, please," Cristina said shortly after her arrival at the Blasco's Hacienda, which she had reached driving the small carriage. She was sitting down in an armchair in the main room, opposite to Doña María Luisa, quite exhausted after the trip.
"What is it about, dear?"
"Is it normal for a woman to feel very tired and nauseous… when she is pregnant?"
"Yes, it is. I was sick several times… but… wait. What do you mean? Are you? Are you pregnant?" she asked, all excited.
"I think I may be. I don't feel well. I am very weak and tired and can hardly eat anything… Food stinks. My period is late. And my breasts are huge, and painful."
Doña María Luisa stood up and hugged her daughter enthusiastically.
"You are definitely pregnant, my dear! The stinky food, the nausea and the swollen breasts are always a giveaway," she said, laughing. "The good news is that the nausea usually goes away later on during the pregnancy. You will feel better when you are four or five months pregnant. I guess you must be… what? Less than two months far?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. Cristina blushed. She got married two months ago, and her mother was assuming she waited for the wedding night.
"Yes, mother, we waited. Everything was proper, don't worry. Diego is a gentleman."
"Of course he is, dear. But, he was sick for so long after he was shot… And you were sick yourself the day after the wedding…"
"Yes, I know. It must have been a first time lucky event."
They both giggled.
ZZZ
Cristina had just returned to the Hacienda De la Vega when Diego and Felipe arrived back from their visit to the ravine. Diego dismounted and went into the house while Felipe waited outside with the horses.
"Cristina, I have unsettling news. The Cossack bounty hunter that I pushed into the ravine survived the fall. He is alive," he said, bluntly, because he didn't know how to make the shocking news any more palatable.
"What? Alive? That's impossible," she dismissed, shaking her head. "I saw him bouncing off the wall twice on his way down, and I heard the noise of the cracked bones when he hit the bottom. He cannot be alive."
"Well, he is," he said, lifting his palms up. "Unbelievable, but true."
"Where is he now?" she asked, anxiety settling in quickly.
"I don't know. Looking for Zorro, probably. I have to find out."
"You are not going out as Zorro while that killer is looking for him, are you?"
"No, don't worry. Just as myself," he replied, quickly walking outside to get back to his horse. He galloped away followed by Felipe before Cristina had the chance to tell him her exciting news.
ZZZ
"Ignacio, I am telling you: the Russian is alive."
"Don't be ridiculous, Diego. That's impossible," the alcalde said, sitting down in his high chair at his desk, which still had the huge "Z" Zorro had carved at the top a few months ago. "Nobody can survive that fall."
"I know, but he did. He is not there at the bottom, where he used to be. There is only one body lying there. We checked," Diego said, involving Felipe in the conversation.
"And what do you care if he is alive or not, anyway?" De Soto sniggered.
Diego looked at him quite cross. Of course he cared. Right now, the Russian was probably looking for his other self to kill him.
"Unless you are scared —are you?" De Soto said, laughing.
"As a matter of fact, yes, I am. I don't want to be shot again. Once is enough."
"Vladimir has no reason to shoot you, has he?"
"Neither had the German, and he did," Diego complained. "And, I was not supposed to survive; nobody thought I would, and I did. It is the same with the Russian. He has survived against all odds."
"Oh, that reminds me… Aren't you supposed to be in jail? I told you duelling is illegal. You killed a man, and that should be punished," he said, stroking his beard, pondering if he should get his schoolmate in jail or not, now that he had recovered.
"I hope you are joking, Ignacio. But it's not funny, not at all," Diego replied, raising his voice, quite upset now. Felipe retreated to a corner, willing to disappear.
"I am not joking," De Soto said firmly, looking at Diego with cold eyes because he didn't like his harsh tone. De la Vega looks all cocky after his encounter with the German, all of a sudden a strong-willed man. "The law should be the same for everybody, no exceptions."
Diego laughed at his words.
"That's certainly funny, coming from you."
"That's it now. You asked for it. Mendozaaaaaaa!" he shouted. The Sergeant came quickly into the office.
"Sí, mi Alcalde?"
"Mendoza, take Don Diego to jail, please," De Soto ordered, calmly.
"You cannot be serious!" Diego shouted, stamping his fist on the desk. "I come here to warm you about the danger of having a killer on the loose again, and you come up with this. Unbelievable!"
"Of course I am serious. You are going to stay in jail for a while. That will teach you. Sergeant, take him away."
Mendoza hesitated, swinging nervously, switching his weight form foot to foot.
"But, mi Alcalde… I don't think Don Diego should…"
"Mendoza! You are not supposed to think, just do as you are told! Take Don Diego to a cell. NOW!" the alcalde barked.
"I am sorry, Don Diego, but I have to take you in," Mendoza apologized with a pathetic voice.
"Don't worry, just do your job, Sergeant," Diego said, walking slowly to the back door, followed by Mendoza. "Felipe, tell my father what happened," he said while signing: bring the horse tonight.
Diego heard De Soto sniggering behind him but he didn't turn around to face him, just clenched his fists in frustration on his way out. This time, Zorro would have to get himself out of jail.
ZZZ
"The alcalde has done what?" Don Alejandro said, enraged.
Felipe signed again, in case he hadn't understood the first time, but he had.
"How dare he, that slimy snake, son of a…" he ranted while getting ready to go, collecting his riding gloves, shaking them at the ghosts in the air while shouting all sort of insults.
"What's wrong, Don Alejandro?" Cristina said, alarmed by all that yelling.
"The alcalde has got Diego in jail because of the duel! Inconceivable!" he shouted. "He nearly died then, for Christ sake! He didn't choose to get involved with that bloody German!"
"Are you going to see him now? Can I go with you? I need to tell him something."
"Yes, of course. Let's go!" he said, heading for the door.
"Can we go in the carriage, please?"
"Why? Riding will be faster," he said, perplexed. He knew Cristina was an accomplished rider, and she seemed to enjoy riding. "I thought you were healed. Are you all right?"
"Yes, I am, but…" she didn't want to tell him yet, she wanted to tell the father first. "Oh, well, I'll tell you why, you are going to find out very soon, anyway. But I wanted Diego to be the first one to know. I guess it doesn't matter."
"What is it?" Don Alejandro asked, getting worried now.
"I am pregnant."
"Pregnant? Really? That's wonderful, congratulations!" he said, changing moods in an instant. He hugged and kissed her, laughing. "Felipe! Get the carriage ready. She is pregnant!"
Felipe smiled widely and hugged Cristina too before heading for the stables.
"Are you all right? Sure?"
"Yes, I am fine, but I feel quite tired and I don't want to ride."
"Yes, of course, don't worry. You are right, it will be better if you don't ride." He was over the moon, and could not stop smiling. "A grandchild. I am going to be an abuelo!"
"Yes, you are," Cristina said, laughing at his reaction.
"And Diego doesn't know?"
Cristina shook her head.
"My son is going to be a father and he is in jail!" he shouted, changing his mood again. "Come on. Let's get him out of there."
ZZZ
Vladimir walked into the alcalde's office without knocking at the door, just flung it open as if he owned the place.
"Good afternoon, Alcalde," he said to the man at the desk. Startled, De Soto threw the papers he was reading in the air when he stood up with a jump.
"You! It is true, you are alive!" he exclaimed in awe. If Diego had not warned him about it beforehand, he would have thought the Russian was a ghost. He looked emaciated, with large, dark circles under his tired eyes, dry scorched skin, and cracked lips.
"Yes, I am alive. Who told you that?"
"Diego de la Vega. But it doesn't matter who, does it? What happened to you? We thought you died by falling in the ravine."
"I didn't fall. Zorro pushed me. And he is going to pay for it. And the other one, the one who killed my brother. That one will pay too. Has Zorro been captured yet?"
"No, he is still out there. How did you survive the fall?"
"I was unconscious for a while. Don't know for how long, at least a couple of days, I guess. I had several broken bones, multiple injuries, and I couldn't move. I cried for help many times, but then I realized I had to get out of there myself; no one was coming to my rescue."
"I told you, everybody thought you were dead. There was no need for a rescue party."
"Which day is today?" he asked, looking around him, confused. The alcalde told him.
"Don't worry, you only missed a couple of months, it is still 1820," De Soto said, chuckling.
"Where is Karl? And the rest of the men? I went to your house, but nobody was there."
He had forced the door and had stayed in the alcalde's empty property for a day, resting after the effort of coming out of the gorge. While he was there, he checked that the metal box he and his brother had buried nearby —which contained money and some personal belongings— was still there. Living with men of dubious reputation had made them very cautious, and they always hid their valuables away while on a job. In this case, it turned out to be an excellent idea, because otherwise, the other bounty hunters would have taken everything when they thought the brothers were dead, never to be seen again.
"Karl is dead, and the others left Los Angeles. Well, I guess you don't know the whole story at all, do you?"
"No, tell me. What happened?"
"Your boss went crazy. He attacked everybody in the pueblo. He maimed Don Francisco at the party, beat the Italian… then shot the doctor…"
"That Italian, what did he look like?"
"Thin, tall, dark hair. Dressed with a blue waistcoat, brown hat—"
"That's him! That's the man who killed my brother, the one who came jumping over the ravine to help Zorro. Where is he now?"
"I don't know. Damn! He was Zorro's accomplice after all! He was in jail, but he escaped; Zorro helped him out. Karl was right!"
The alcalde started pacing around the room, greatly irritated remembering the lost opportunity.
"We haven't seen him since. Maybe he is dead. Karl nearly drowned him, and I am quite sure he broke his ribs badly. He could hardly breathe." He continued pacing around, thinking aloud. "Now that I think about it, nobody has seen Zorro since, either."
"He was injured. Before he pushed me into the ravine, I sank my sword in his left arm, right to the bone. He should have a large scar there, or he may have lost the arm all together. Or he may even be dead. Down at the ravine, while my bones were healing, I had a lot of time to think, and now I have a plan to unmask him. All we need to do is to check every man in the territory, make a list and have them one by one showing us their left arm, and we'll find him."
"That's an excellent idea. That may work!" De Soto exclaimed, excited. "I can use the official census list for that." He sat down at his desk again, searching in the middle drawer.
"You still haven't told me who killed Karl, or how."
"Your boss challenged Diego de la Vega to a shooting duel. Apparently, De la Vega blew his head off with a lucky shot. Karl shot him first, and he nearly died too."
Vladimir looked confused.
"You mention that name before. You said De la Vega told you I was alive before anybody knew."
"That's right. What a coincidence." De Soto's brain was on fire by then with all the intense thinking. Smoke could have come out of his ears. "De la Vega… no, it can't be…There it is," he said, waiving the list.
"Where is that De la Vega? He must be a very skilled fighter to be able to kill Karl Jäger."
"Actually, he is in jail because duelling is illegal. How ironic!" De Soto said, chuckling. "And he is not a fighter. Or a shooter. I saw him practicing before the duel and he couldn't hit the target; he was pathetic. His guardian angel must have been aiming his gun at your boss, or it was just plain luck that he hit him at all."
"I want to see him. I want to see that man."
"Very well, let's go," De Soto said, quite intrigued by his intentions, heading for the back door.
When they stepped into the patio, Vladimir heard a distinctive loud neigh, coming from the stables.
"That's my horse. Do you have my horse, Alcalde?"
De Soto fidgeted, nervous. The lancers had found the Cossack horses wandering around the country side a couple of days after their owners had died at the ravine. De Soto was particularly fond of Vladimir's, and didn't want to give him away. With that horse, he knew he could be able to outrun Toronado.
"Eh… No… You must be mistaken. Stop! Where are you going?" he cried, following the Russian, who was heading for the stables with a purposeful stride, ignoring him. Getting there, he pointed to the lean, long, beautiful chestnut horse whose coat was smooth and shiny, and was reflecting the sun light coming through the roof with an almost metallic sheen.
"That's my horse." The expression in his face, together with the hand resting in the hilt of his Cossack sword, made the alcalde give up on any intentions to keep the horse. "And that's my brother's."
"Are they? Are you sure? We found them lost in the northern territory," the alcalde chirped.
"Yes. Sure." Vladimir was not going to argue. "You can keep my brother's. I don't need it. Where is the saddle?"
"Let me see… Mendozaaaaaaa!"
DeSoto sighed, relieved. At least he could keep one of the horses.
ZZZ
Diego was sitting in a distant corner in his cell, trying to detach himself from the situation, keeping his mind empty in relaxation, with his head down. He didn't notice the visitors coming in until the alcalde called him.
"Diego de la Vega, you have one visitor," he sniggered. "Get up!"
"What?" Diego said, lifting his head.
"You! You are the man we whacked at the tavern!" the Russian exclaimed.
Diego blinked in disbelief and stood up, coming a bit closer to the bars, but still keeping some distance.
"And you are supposed to be dead."
Vladimir looked at him intently. He was tall like Zorro, and he had seen him knocking down a tough man with a powerful punch. He also remembered seeing that man galloping away on a horse, and he was an excellent rider. And on top of that, he had defeated one of the most skilled and cruel gunman he had ever met on a shooting duel. He had to be Zorro. His eyes narrowed to a thin line, and then he ordered with a glacial tone:
"Show me your left arm, close to your shoulder."
Diego didn't move, so surprised by this command he just stood still, frozen.
"Do you really think he is Zorro?" De Soto said. "I know; there are too many coincidences, but… I don't think so."
Vladimir drew his gun, and extended his arm through the bars, aiming at Diego.
"Show me your arm. Now!" he demanded.
"See, Alcalde? That's what I was talking about before. You said he didn't have a reason to shoot me. Apparently, everybody has one," Diego complained with his hands up.
De Soto was looking at both men, alternating between them, puzzled by the situation.
"All right, Diego. Show us your arm and I can tick you off the list. Come on, it will only take a minute," he asked gently, trying to defuse the tension.
Diego knew he didn't have a choice. Praying for the concealer to be still in place, he started to undo his shirt slowly, with his eyes fixed on the gun. Half way down the row of buttons, he just pulled from his right sleeve to reveal his right shoulder and upper arm.
"The other arm!" the Russian growled.
Damn. He remembers well, Diego thought.
He put the shirt back over his shoulder again, and pulled from the other sleeve, revealing his left shoulder without looking at it. He didn't dare, unable to look away from the gun, like a frozen prey looking at its hunter. He thought he was about to see the flash coming out from the gun just before the bullet would hit him, in the same way as it had happened when Karl shot him.
"I told you he wasn't Zorro," De Soto said.
Diego looked at his arm. He could just see the scar showing through the concealer, but they probably could not see it from the distance.
"Come closer," the Russian ordered.
Diego only walked a couple of steps toward them, but turned slightly so they could see his shoulder better.
"Why do you want to see my shoulder?" he asked, playing ignorance.
"Zorro should have a large scar there, on his left arm," the alcalde said.
"But I don't."
"We can see that. Shall we go now?" De Soto asked the Russian, who was still aiming at Diego, unconvinced.
"How did you know I was alive?"
"Felipe realized there was only one body at the bottom of the ravine. I keep telling him not to go near that place because it is dangerous, but teenagers are not very good at listening. I guess he was fascinated looking at the dead men from above," Diego explained, trying to be casual while he repositioned his shirt and buttoned up.
Vladimir pulled out his gun through the bars and walked away, shooting a last glacial look at Diego, who sighed deeply when they left. He sat down again at the distant corner, shaking, his knees feeling very weak this time.
Thank God for Cristina and her aversion to scars!
ZZZ
Cristina had been allowed to visit Diego while Don Alejandro tried to convince alcalde De Soto to release his son. Alone in the empty jail space —because Mendoza had been so tactful to leave the room after guiding her there from the office— they could hear the loud shouting through the thick walls.
"The Russian is really alive, he was here. He came to check on my arm, aiming his gun at me. He and the alcalde are looking for a man with a scar in his left arm. They are planning to check everybody in Los Angeles. Thank God that paste I used yesterday just to please you was still covering it. That was so lucky, thank you," Diego said.
"I will come later as Leonardo to get you out of here."
"No. Don't do that. You killed his brother, remember? Sure he is looking for the Italian too. Please, don't," he begged, extremely anxious, grabbing the cell bars so tight his knuckles turned white. She never listened to him, and he was in no position to physically stop her now.
"All right then, I won't. Anyway, I've not been feeling well for the last few days; I am so tired and weak."
"Go now and see doctor Hernández then, please."
"I don't think he can do anything about it, Diego. Apparently, it is normal in my condition: I am pregnant," she said, with a radiant smile.
"What?" He could not believe it, speechless with the unexpected news. "So soon? How?" he managed to babble out in the end.
"You know how," she said, laughing at his bewildered expression. "It must have been that awkward first time, before the duel. You have to be so efficient at everything you do, don't you?"
He reached for her through the bars, caressing her face, his obvious joy shining in his eyes.
"That's wonderful news, mi amor. I am so happy. Now, you have to take care of yourself. No more stunts, please. Tell Felipe to forget about the plan, don't do anything tonight. I'll stay here for a few days until the alcalde gets bored waiting for Zorro, who is not going to show up. I'll be fine, don't worry."
He reached for her hand and kissed it, but that was not enough for her. She came closer to the bars and reached for his mouth, kissing him as if it was the last time she would ever see him, squeezing his hand tightly. He passed his other arm through the bars to embrace her, drawing her even closer.
De Soto came into the jail while they were oblivious to the world, followed by Don Alejandro. The alcalde cleared his throat loudly when he spotted them.
"Señora, get away from the prisoner, if you please," he said.
She pulled away from the bars, still maintaining contact holding hands, but the alcalde came between the couple, pushing her gently away until she reluctantly let go of Diego's hand.
"My wife just told me I am going to be a father," Diego announced proudly. "I hope I will be out of here by then."
"Congratulations," the alcalde mumbled, unsympathetic. "We'll see about that. Your father here is giving me a royal headache."
"I am going to Monterey to see the Governor," he started again, waving his gloves behind the alcalde. "You'll see, you'll see. I—"
"I had enough of that!" De Soto shouted, holding his hand up while rolling his eyes, not turning to face Don Alejandro, as if ignoring him. Then, he remembered something, and smiled showing his front teeth maliciously.
"By the way, Zorro was injured in his left arm while fighting with Vladimir at the ravine," he said, turning around to face the old don. "Can I see your arm, please? I am planning to check everybody in the territory. I already checked your son's, although that was completely unnecessary; no way on Earth he could be Zorro," he sniggered.
Cristina had to look away covering her smile with her hand, supressing a giggle.
"My arm? What the…?"
"Yes, your arm. I am looking for a large scar there," he said, pointing at the spot. "Can you please remove your shirt so I can have a look?"
"This is preposterous! No way I'm going to agree to that stupid game! You have no right to…" He went on and on ranting again, shaking the gloves as a maraca.
"Father please, just do it and get out of here. And take Cristina to the doctor before you head home. Please."
Don Alejandro stopped complaining and pulled off his tie with a furious tag. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt and waistcoat.
"The Governor will know about this too," he warned, when he finally uncovered his left shoulder and upper arm. De Soto came closer to inspect the area, unsurprised when he didn't find any markings there.
"So what? It is called initiative, De la Vega, something quite necessary around here. Get out of my sight now!" he said, pointing to the door.
Don Alejandro readjusted his shirt loosely and put his waistcoat back on, not bothering with the buttons yet, and headed for the door.
"Come on, Cristina. Let's go to see doctor Hernández. See you soon, Son."
She followed him, blowing a kiss to Diego on her way out.
"Hasta luego," she whispered. He waved to her through the bars.
"Bye now, take care."
De Soto shook his head closing the door behind them, leaving Diego alone. All that tender display of affection made him sick. And jealous, as well.
ZZZZZ