THE NIGHT OF THE CHEYENNE CALLED WHITE EAGLE
By Andamogirl
Author's notes : season 3. This story takes place immediately after the episode "The night of the Falcon" and continues after "The Night of the Legion of Death".
Personal note: Ross Martin was drop-dead handsome in the role of Feliz Muñez.
References to the following episodes: "The Night of the Legion of Death" (one of my favorite episodes) and "The night of the Double Edged Knife"; "The night of the Murderous Spring".
References to my stories called "The Night of the Deadly Showboat"; "The Night of the Comanche Moon" & "The Night of the Outlaw".
I had watched 'Geronimo' (1962) on YouTube when I started writing my story. It's a good movie and Ross Martin in the role of Mangus was really great.
The Cheyenne words, names and vocabulary written in my story are real, except the Cheyenne name of American Knife (Knife American in correct Cheyenne word order) which is an English-Cheyenne translation and is probably not accurate. It is composed with two words : 1) motšėške (knife). Simplified Spelling mochk and 2) Vé'ho'é (whiteman, modern, American). E. g. Vé'ho'éešeeh means raise someone in the whiteman way and gives É-vé'ho'éešeehóho: 'he raised him in the white way'. That last part of the name makes sense as American Knife was raised by missionaries and went to Dartmouth College where probably and logically he studied medicine. So, the name is Motšėškevé'ho'é.
Like in all my stories involving Indians (Comanche, Crows…), I did extensive research on the Cheyenne Indians to write this story and almost everything is accurate. But for the plot, some things are partially accurate or totally the result of my imagination.
American Knife:(to Jim) I understand your problem. It is very difficult to kill an old friend, so I thought... a new friend should do it for you.
Jim: You lost your disguise.
Artemus: (being fanned by two Indian girls) Well, wouldn't you? James?! They, uh, they, uh softening us up to carve us up?
Jim: (smiling at Little Willow) No, no, no, they're... they're friendly Indians.
Jim: Be careful. I don't think the townspeople are too fond of Indians.
Artemus: Me no Cheyenne, me tame Indian.
The Night of the Double-Edged Knife.
Warning: self-inflected injuries and drug use (part of a ceremony). Graphic violence. Blood & injuries, hurt/comfort.
Many thanks to my beta reader Tripidydoodah.
WWW
TEASER
Sinful, Colorado
It was late at night when Artemus Gordon special agent of the U.S. Secret Service dismounted in front of Dr. Horace Humphries' office, also known as the Falcon (deceased).
He smiled. "Let's find out how he made his remarkable sedative," he said to himself before he pulled out a lock pick from his inside pocket
It was remarkable, indeed, he thought. It had no unpleasant after effects and was precise and predictable in its length of action.
It was perfect for him to use on missions in its actual liquid form – he just had to find how, perhaps using blank cartridges that would eject tiny darts containing the drug. And with the formula in his possession, he could make a formidable knock-out gas and knock-out gas bombs, he mused smiling, excited by the idea of realizing his next new inventions.
He easily opened the door. Once inside he struck a match, lit a kerosene lamp hung on the wall and looked around him. "Okay, let's start searching."
He took a look in the cabinets occupying the small waiting room, finding nothing interesting there and entered Humphries' office.
He lit another kerosene lamp placed on a table and looked around him: The room was filled with shelves lining the walls and there was an examination table standing in the middle.
He grimaced remembering being strapped on it, unable to move, Horace Humphries injecting him with his sleeping drug – he had hated that, like he really hated any injection. Being drugged, not to be in control of anything made him very, very uncomfortable and he tried to avoid it.
He opened the first cabinet, finding patients' files and headed paper for prescriptions. He opened a second one finding blank paper and empty files. He had to use his lock pick again to open a third cabinet- finding a big black bag inside.
He put in on the floor, opened it and gasped in surprise as he discovered that it was filled with bundles of banknotes. "Dr. Humphries left a small fortune here… and he won't need it anymore. It all goes back to the Treasury Department," he said as he closed the bag.
Spotting the doctor's worktable, Artemus moved there and saw a drawer under the top. He tried to pull it open but didn't manage to. It was closed.
"Artie, old boy, it's probably inside…" he said before using his lock pick once again. He easily opened the drawer and a split second later pulled a thick folder out. "Ha! Ha!" He rapidly opened it and looked over the formulas he found inside. Most of them were old fashioned remedies, but some others were more complex and labelled 'drugs' on top of the page. Each of them had a comment listing the after effects, agreeable or not… and he finally found the formula he was looking for. He read the comment written at the bottom of the page: "No after effects, very precise and predictable in its length of action… Great! You got it!"
Smiling happily Artie closed the folder. He pivoted and… CLICK! He froze hearing the metallic sound of a revolver hammer being cocked.
Instinctively he lowered his hand on the AG- monogrammed handle of his Colt, but he prudently let it there in its the holster.
He raised his hand slowly, and then he slowly pivoted, turned around and found himself face to face with a young brunette woman, wearing men's black clothes, her hat black too and holding a gun.
He took a prudent step back, his smile wavering a little. "I didn't hear you…You are as quiet as a cat." Then he asked politely, "Good evening, Miss. What can I do for you?"
The young woman narrowed her dark eyes in suspicion. "Don't do anything tricky Mr. Burglar or I'm going to shoot you. Drop your gun on the floor and raise your hands, now!"
Artie obeyed with a smile. "I'm not a burglar, miss. My name is Artemus Gordon, I'm a special agent working for the US Government. I have an identity card inside my jacket. I can show it to you if you want."
The brunette shook her head and said, "Leave your hands where they are! You're working for the US Government, then you are some kind of a law man?"
Artemus nodded. "You can say that. If you want to see Dr. Humphries, he's not here… He has stopped receiving patients and making prescriptions... definitely. But you don't look sick, Miss…?"
The young woman gave Artemus a cold smile. "I don't like pesky lawmen… When I meet one, he usually ends up dead and no one finds his body. I'm very creative."
Tensing, Artie said, "I assure you, I'm not a pesky lawman…" He frowned trying to work out who this young woman was: she had an accent, a Spanish accent not a Mexican one; she knew how to use a gun; she had killed lawmen before - then she was a killer, and thus her business had to be a criminal one. Yes! She was a professional assassin… his frown deepened as he realized he had seen those eyes once before… but on who? He never forgot a face…
He suddenly remembered who: Feliz Muñez. He snapped his fingers. "I know who you are, you are Feliz Muñez's daughter!... And obviously working in the same field as your father."
The brunette opened her eyes wide in surprise. "You know my father? Where is he? I came here to find him. He should have contacted me two days ago… but I received no telegram. That's why I came here. I knew he had to see Dr. Humphries here in Sinful."
Artie sighed. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of sad news, but your father is dead, Miss… he was killed in an explosion two days ago. He was buried in the local cemetery."
The young woman paled and took a step back in shock, her hand holding the gun trembling. "Wha… What? He's dead?… My father's dead? Mi padre murió... no, no, no.." She furrowed her brow, her brown eyes darkening with anger. "Did you kill him?"
Gordon shook his head. "No, I didn't. Men working for the Falcon – I mean Dr. Humphries threw a bomb inside the train compartment we were in and the explosion killed him."
She shook her head. "I don't believe you. You're a lawman, you knew he was a professional assassin and you killed him!"
Artemus shook his head too. "No, no, I didn't kill him but the Falcon did – and the Falcon is now dead, buried under the top of a collapsed mountain with his fabulous and terrifying canon – along with all the people that were here too. It's over."
Feliz Muñez's daughter stared at Artemus with a look filled with hatred. "No, it's not over. I'm sure that you have killed my father. You somehow discovered who he was and you eliminated him. You're lying, I don't trust lawmen, they are liars, all of them."
Reading his own death reflected in the young woman's black eyes Artie leapt on the her, adrenaline surging through his veins, forcing her to lower her gun.
But she pulled the trigger. BANG! The bullet caught him in his right side, just above his belt, point blank. It burnt and gouged out skin and flesh.
He yelped as white-hot pain flared across his side. He clutched it as a crimson stain rapidly spread beneath his fingers. He wavered on his feet for a moment and his knees buckled. He finally collapsed to the floor and his hat fell off.
His face twisted in pain, he pressed down hard on his wounded and sensitized flesh. He saw the young woman lean over him and place the muzzle of her gun against his forehead.
Everything blurred as he whispered, "Listen to me… I didn't… I didn't kill your… father, I swear."
The female assassin slowly pressed the trigger of her gun enjoying each second of it. "Liar! You're a liar! I'm going to kill you for killing my father, slowly, breaking your bones one by one with a bullet, then, I will terminate you with a bullet in your mouth…," she said coldly. She motioned her gun toward Artemus's shoulder. "Let's start here."
He raised his bloodied hand, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Don't do that! I didn't kill him, the Falcon did…"
Carmen Muñez's finger grazed the trigger…
BANG! The sharp crack of a gunshot resounded again and the six-shooter that the young woman was holding flew in the air.
She turned around in a flash and saw a man standing beside the door, pointing his smoking Colt at her. She scowled at him.
Stone-faced Jim West took a step forward. "Move away from my partner and put your hands on the wall. Don't try anything, because I won't hesitate to shoot you, woman or not."
Señorita Muñez glared at Jim and complied.
Surprised, Artie pulled himself up so he was half-seated, half-crouched on the floor. "Jim? What are you doing here?" He lowered his hand to his bleeding side and he pressed on the wound again.
Concerned; Jim looked down at his partner who had his hand clutching his side tightly. Blood was dripping through his fingers. "Saving your life. I arrived just in time."
The older man shook his head, "I mean I thought you were in the Wanderer telegraphing to Washington, making your report to Colonel Richmond. You followed me?"
Putting a knee to the floor, Jim nodded. "Yes, I did. After you left following dinner, I had a bad feeling about you having some problems here, and I was right. So yes, I followed you. And I stopped that woman before she killed you. You need to see a doctor."
Artemus released a sigh and smiled. "Good idea. Thank you, Jim. You always have very good intuitions. They saved my life a few times already."
Jim pulled up Artie's reddening shirt and Artemus hissed at the pain as he lifted his hand. The younger agent rapidly inspected the wound. Blood poured freely from his partner's right side, soaking through the white fabric and pooling down against the dusty wooden floor. It was hopefully a non-lethal deep laceration, but the skin was burnt, already swollen. "You have a deep laceration, your skin is burnt all around because I suppose she fired at you point blank, but no bullet holes, you were lucky."
Pain stabbing his injured side, gritting his teeth, Artemus nodded, his face was slick with sweat. "Yeah. But it hurts."
Jim stood up and moved toward the young woman. "Trying to kill a government agent is a federal offence, Miss", he said. You're going to end up behind bars for a long time." He grabbed her by an arm roughly and asked, "Who are you and why did you shoot my partner?"
She glared at him. "My name's Carmen Muñez. I wanted to kill your partner because he killed my father Feliz Muñez."
Jim was surprised. "You're his daughter?... and probably working for the Barcelona syndicate too like your father did." Carmen nodded. "My friend didn't kill your father; it was the Falcon who did. And now you're under arrest for attempted murder of a government agent."
Hearing rapid footsteps Jim pivoted, ready to fire and relaxed when he saw the sheriff and his two deputies all of them in their long underwear, wearing their gun belts (and the sheriff his star) enter the room. "Ah, sheriff, just in time." He released Miss Muñez, showed the old man his identity card and said, "My name's James West, I'm a special agent working for the Government. Arrest that woman sheriff, and lock her in a cell. She tried to kill my partner. Take good care of her and be careful, she's very dangerous. I'll send you two fellow agents to bring her to a federal prison as soon as possible."
The sheriff nodded. "Tom, Hank, escort the lady to my office and lock her in a cell." and the armed deputies framed Carmen Muñez.
Jim knelt again beside his partner who was pressing his hand on his side. He was pale and bleeding a lot. "Do you have a doctor here? – other than Dr. Humphries?"
The sheriff shook his head. "No, he's our only physician. And apparently is gone… because he's living upstairs and with that ruckus he should be here. Maybe he had a medical emergency and left… But I don't know where he is and when he'll be back."
Remembering what had happened to Humphries and the others (except Lana Benson who was enroute to a federal prison, escorted by a marshal), Jim said, "He won't come back, he's dead. It's a long story. Is there any other doctor in the vicinity? My friend needs medical attention."
The old man shook his head. "Not in the vicinity, no. You'll have to make three hours on a horse just one way to find one in Blacktown."
Propping himself on his elbows, wincing, Artie said, "It's okay Jim… there's no need for a doctor. It's just a deep cut. Once back in the Wanderer, you'll take care of that…"
Jim nodded. "We don't have a choice. Okay. I will take care of you and this won't be the first time, or the last, I'm sure." He smirked and added, "Fortunately the bullet cut its way into your extra layer of winter padding… Your generous cuisine saved your life."
Frowning, a bit hurt, Artie huffed and said, "Not everyone can be built like a Greek god like you, Jim. Besides it's a temporary winter padding as you call it because it disappears with spring time."
Jim smiled broadly. "And that fleshy part of you reappears in December, just like magic."
Artie pouted childishly. "You're mean."
Jim chuckled. "Me? Never. Ah! Artie! You know that I love to tease you. You're so easy. You always fall for it." He became serious again and asked, "Do you think you can mount your horse to go back to the train? I will patch you up there, but after that we'll go to Denver where you'll see a doctor."
Artie nodded. "I think so, yes."
Jim helped his best friend to move into a sitting position. "Okay buddy. Ready?" Then he helped his best friend to stand.
Grimacing in pain Artie eyed the thick folder sat on the desk. "Jim, take that folder over there, I need it. The formula of the sleeping drug I want is inside. Take the black bag too."
The sheriff helped Artie to stay upright as Jim fetched the folder and the black bag.
BANG!
A second gunshot resounded and the sheriff collapsed on the floor, a bullet in his chest, pinning Artie under his dead body.
Standing beside the door Lana Benson took a step forward pointing her gun at Artemus's head. "Drop that folder and bring me the black bag, now!" she commanded. "Don't try anything Mr. West, or your partner Mr. Gordon is dead. You don't want him to die, do you?"
Moving the sheriff's body to the side and sitting on the floor, Artie said, "I see that you escaped Marshal Jefferson and came back here to take the money that's in the bag." Then he applied pressure on his wound, blood oozing between his fingers.
Jim frowned puzzled. "Money? What money?"
She nodded. "Good deduction Mr. Gordon. There's a lot of money in that bag, enough to start a new life. I had to take it. Come here Mr. West and don't do anything foolish."
Jim shook his head. "I never do, even more so when my partner's life is in the balance." He moved toward Lana Benson and placed the bag on the floor at her feet. "Take it."
Suddenly Artemus grabbed the woman's legs and tackled her to the ground, groaning in pain as the movement caused him more discomfort, and then, he rolled on his good side while Jim, in a flash, easily disarmed Miss Benson who was too surprised to react.
Pointing the gun at the woman, Jim said, "Remember what I told you in the train, Miss Benson, I never do anything foolish." He pulled the woman upright roughly and looked down at Artemus. "But my friend Artemus always does and he has done a lot of foolish and risky things over the years to rescue me…but if he hadn't I wouldn't be here today. He also has a knack for getting shot."
He looked down at Artie lying on his back, chest heaving, panting. His best friend was pressing his blood-covered fingers on his bleeding wound and was grimacing in pain. "It's over Artie, we'll soon be on our way back to the Wanderer, and once there, I'll take care of you," he said, his voice thick with concern. He glanced at Humphries' associate. "Miss Muñez is going to have a cell mate."
Lana Benson muttered a curse.
Giving a weak nod, Artie let his eyes drift shut. "Going to… make a nap while you take her… to the sheriff's office."
Jim smiled. "No sleeping on the job, Artie."
Artie smiled too. "Of course, partner." He blinked sluggishly at Jim twice before letting his eyes drift shut again with a long sigh.
WWW
Much later on the way to the Wanderer
James West and a barely conscious Artemus Gordon were approaching the Wanderer stopped in the middle of
the countryside 20 miles away from Sinful (there was no railroad station there), when they saw a couple of Indians, riding their horses beside the rear platform of the train.
Jim frowned in alarm and reached for his Winchester sitting in his scabbard.
But he didn't have time to take it as two braves holding ropes suddenly coming out from the side bushes jumped on him.
The three of them crashed to the ground and Jim was easily neutralized, his arms and legs solidly tied in a matter of seconds.
His head swimming, Artie took his gun in a weak hand. "Oh, this is not good," he said. He looked at the two Indians threatening him with their short bows and arrows. "Something tells me that this is going to be a long, long night", he said. Then he closed his eyes, his gun dangling from his loose grip and he passed out with fatigue and blood loss.
Tbc.