Chapter Three: Escapes and Escapades

Sergeant Garcia and Corporal Reyes glanced back at the prisoners for yet another time before gulping as they set their sights on the gallows' beam that peeked just over the garrison's wall. Looking to one another, they both gripped their neck tenderly, sickened by the thought of these poor men facing death for the inability to pay taxes.

"Where's the Commandante?" Corporal Reyes asked, his eyes still trained on the deathly structure.

"In his quarters, baboso, resting for tomorrow's execution," Garcia grumbled, jealous of his superior. While his leader slept comfortably without a care in the world, he had posted everyone else at attention, on their feet all through the night.

"You sure?" Reyes asked, turning his head to squint at the Commandante's office.

"Of course I am sure," Garcia groaned, exasperated.

Pointing his finger at the office door, which now swung open, he asked, "Then what's he doing wide awake?"

Garcia gasped and straightened his posture – he had already been insulted several times for his big belly being the reason he could not stand at attention correctly. While the Commandante had not lit any of the candles, he stood dressed fully in his uniform, his sombrero pulled low over his face. "Commandante Ramon!" he saluted at once, earning the other officers' attention so that they might also salute immediately.

"How are the prisoners?" he snapped at them, clasping his hands behind his back and standing at attention most menacingly.

"Oh, they are here," Garcia assured him with a weak smile, grimacing as he saw the Commandante shut the door after him and stride to the cage, uncoiling the whip around his belt. "Eh, Commandante-?"

"Release them at once," he ordered, pointing an accusing finger at the guard holding the key ring, who trembled at the sound of his bellowing voice. He stalked over to the barred door and ordered for the men to have their hands tied and linked as if in a chain gang before taking the rope and leading them to the gates of the cuartel.

"Commandante!" Garcia protested, running to his superior's side. "The hanging is not until tomorrow-"

"That does not excuse them from receiving one last reminder of who is in charge before they leave this earth," snapped Ramon, who still kept his hat low over his brow despite the dark of night. He cracked his whip at the dirt floor, making Garcia leap back in fright. "Unless you plan on joining them, I suggest you move aside," he added coolly, making Garcia hop away in fear, though he felt guilty as he watched the peons be taken away. The sergeant bowed his head in pity only to have it snap up when Ramon shouted his name again.

"Si, mi Commandante?" he gasped, running out to the front of the presidio as quickly as his chubby legs could carry him.

"I want these men out of my sight, they'll get in the way while I whip these men into obedience and I don't need any simpering fool to try and stop me or show pity," Ramon informed him.

Garcia blinked, scratching his cheek in confusion. "But, where shall I take them? You placed them here to guard the scaffold-"

"Who will toy with the scaffold now that it's completed? And don't you dare mention that infernal outlaw's name," he snarled. "What do I care where you take the men? Go to the posada for all I care, just leave me to do my business!"

The mention of the posada had many men perk in interest; Garcia's own eyes grew large as he realized what they meant for him. "Si, senor! Lancers, to the posada!" he ordered firmly, waiting until the men had finished running over eagerly before he joined them himself.

The peons watched in terror and disgust as the soldiers abandoned their posts, leaving them with the cruel official. "Now what?" frowned one of the innocent men, watching with suspicion as Ramon appeared to peer over his shoulder and look around cautiously before approaching them. "You are a dishonorable coward and thief, Ramon-"

The whip cracked over their heads twice, making them all fall to their feet and cover their faces as best as they could. They could hear him approaching them, causing them to close they eyes and expect the worse…when he knelt down and raised his hat, however , they found themselves gawking at the mischievous face of the masked outlaw, Zorro. Placing one finger to his lips, he looked over his shoulder again and pulled out his sword, cutting the ropes off the first man before handing the weapon over to the peon. "Cut the others free, then run. I need to keep up the pretense," Zorro whispered, rising once again and cracking the whip several feet away in the opposite direction, aiming his weapon at the scaffold. The men watched as he snapped and flicked the whip, marring the wood with his strength and efficiency. Once the last man was freed of his bonds, the lead peon came forth and timidly tapped Zorro's shoulder, giving him the sword back. Zorro paused from his efforts and accepted the blade.

"Zorro…you sounded just like the Commandante…and the uniform-!" the peon began.

"I have practiced imitating others' voices for some time now. As for the uniform…well, I shall return it shortly," he winked. "Now go, before anyone sees you! Hide in the hills and do what you must, but do not let Ramon or his men catch you. I will do all in power to stop him."

"Gracias," the peon murmured, the others nodding and whispering their gratitude before completing the bandit's orders and disappearing into the night. Zorro took this opportunity to recoil his whip and run back into the abandoned cuartel, hurrying over to the water barrels where the tool box had been placed recently since the completion of the gallows. Grasping the hammer, he ran back outside, checking to make sure the coast was clear before checking the foundation of the beam. Biting the inside of his cheek, he used the curved back of the hammer to pry the nails loose before testing the beam. It moaned under his touch, making him nod in satisfaction. Quickly, he reentered the cuartel and returned the tool before strolling back into the Commandante's quarters. Walking into the room, he saw that Ramon was still unconscious, bound and gagged in his own bed. He had put up quite a fight when Zorro had awaked him from his slumber, only to fall back asleep when his head met the hilt of Zorro's blade. Removing the Commandante's pristine navy blue uniform, he dressed himself once again in his black garbs before returning his attention to the tax chest. Taking three sacks of the money placed to the side, money he had seen were registered as new 'taxes' for 'the army's supplies', he tied them securely to his belt, planning to put them in Tornado's saddlebag before he dropped by the mission to give the money to Padre Felipe for redistribution.

As he shut the box, he heard a groan from the other side of the room. Grinning impishly, he faced Ramon and swaggered over. "Ah, so you're awake," he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did you have a pleasant nap?" He merely laughed as Ramon grunted into the rag that gagged him. "Perhaps you will think twice before punishing those that cannot afford to pay those horrendous taxes," Zorro offered. "However, I am certain this will not be our last meeting. Until next time, Commandante." Withdrawing his sword from its scabbard, he quickly cut a "Z" into the Commandante's long johns, biting back a laugh as the man's eyes seemed to bulge from the anger he felt. Giving him a mocking bow, he exited the room in a hurry, knowing that if Ramon did not wiggle himself free, Garcia and the others may return to see what had happened. Leaving the private quarters and shutting the door, he slunk across the cuartel's expanse only to hop into the shadows by the wearer barrels once more.

Garcia's voice rang in the air, and the stomping of the soldiers feet alerted Zorro that the later of his predictions had come true. Moving swiftly, he climbed up the barrel tower and lay flat on the edge of the wall, waiting for the soldiers to reenter the cartel before he dared to thrust out his whip and swing over to the nearest building's rooftop. Already, he could hear the shouts of shock and panic as the men saw that the peons were missing. Soon Ramon would be released, and then he would be in for a treat. Slipping down beside the posada, he scurried off towards the edge of the little, sleepy town and whistled. Within moments, Tornado galloped towards him, just as the soldiers ran out of the building with an infuriated Ramon in the lead.

"KILL HIM!" he shouted, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

Leaping into the saddle, Zorro waved his whip in the air and caught the tip of one of the lancers' rifles. With a fierce tug, he yanked the weapon aside so that the solider fired just a foot away from where Ramon was standing. With the men startled from the action, he laughed and saluted them before riding away, enjoying the sounds of Ramon's utter rage at being defeat. "You'd best get used to the feeling, my friend. This will be happening quite a bit from now on."

~Z~

The following morning, Diego rode out on his steed, Relampago, towards the Quintero hacienda. He greeted Renée cordially when she came to the door and beamed as Alma and Joaquin exited, dressed in their riding suits. "Buenos dias! I hope you are still up for a morning ride?"

"Of course we are!" Joaquin declared, placing his fists on his hips as he grinned at Diego. "And we are starving! You promised breakfast-"

"Joaquin, let's go on our ride first," Alma said calmly, sending him a sharp look with her eyes. Lifting her head, she calmly explained to Renée, "Don Diego invited us out this morning. Please tell Uncle that we'll be back later today."

Renée said nothing to them, only casting them a skeptical look before excusing herself and reentering the grand house.

"She seems like she's in a good mood," Diego commented as Alma and Joaquin's horses were brought out by two Indian servants.

"Don't mind her, she's always like that," Joaquin rolled his eyes as he mounted his horse with great ease.

Alma glanced back at the house, her eyes full of concern as she looked to her little brother. Facing Diego, she forced on a smile and said, "Perhaps we can talk more later. I'm anxious to let Corazon release some energy."

"All right," Diego agreed, certain he would get her to talk sooner or later. "Let's be off!"

Leading the way, Diego guided them down the path until they arrived to his hacienda. He rode past it and urged his horse off the road, leading them into a vast expanse of wild grasses and dry shrubs that encased the land. He began to speed up the pace as Joaquina and Alma urged their horses to move faster, the three of them laughing at they shared an early morning race. The sun's rays spread gloriously through the air as they rode their frisky steeds through the Californian scenery, coming to a halt as they arrived at a small pond surrounded by crooked trees.

"Well," Diego sighed, dismounting simultaneously as his two guests. "That was most certainly refreshing. I haven't done anything like this with friends in a while." He bounded over and assisted Alma in finding her footing, amazed at how lovely she looked in dawn's soft light, her hair loosened from its bun from the wild ride, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glistening.

"Gracias, Diego. I do hope we can do this more often," she smiled.

"Diego, did you hear about el Zorro?!" Joaquin asked excitedly, rushing to their sides.

"No… what happened?" Diego asked innocently, offering his arm to Alma before leading the siblings down the little slope towards the pond's edge for a moment of rest.

"Uncle Rafael and Ramon were furious this morning – they say he got the peons to escape, and that he impersonated Ramon!" Joaquin laughed, plopping down by the water's edge before tugging his boots and socks off so that he might dip his feet in the water. "He's incredible!"

"I suppose he is," Diego chuckled, shaking his head. Glancing at Alma, he cocked his head and asked, "What do you make of this outlaw?"

She shrugged before looking into his eyes. "I haven't met him so I can't judge his character. As for his actions, though they are unorthodox and dangerous, I can see that he cares for all kinds of people and will do what he must to protect them all. He must be very brave to dare attempt such feats… and I will give him credit for putting Ramon in his place," she added softly, pressing her lips together tightly as she failed to hide an amused smile.

"Ah… the polite senorita has a mischievous side to her," Diego grinned impishly, raising an eyebrow as he pointed at her. She playfully smacked his hand away, prompting him to reach for her. When she tried to run away, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her in a tight embrace. Joaquin watched, his heart swelling with hope, as they laughed and fought one another, eventually ending up tumbling and rolling on the soft grass until they came to a halt. Alma lay on the ground, fighting her giggles as Diego kept his arms on either side of her to keep himself propped up, also smiling like a fool. The two slowly stopped laughing and stared into each other's eyes, Diego's head timidly moving towards hers.

"You haven't laughed like that for a long time, Alma," Joaquin noted softly, startling the couple. "Not since Papa died."

The spell between the two appeared to be broken. Diego cleared his throat and helped her up, taking in every detail of her heartbroken face. "…Joaquin mentioned that your father was murdered… is that true?" He felt his stomach twist in agony as she looked away, almost as if she were fighting with herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried-"

"It's true," Alma admitted at last, looking back at him with tears in her eyes. "He was killed about a three months ago… there were men in masks what attacked the house and broke in… they kept us locked in our rooms. By the time we were able to break out and ran downstairs…" She stopped herself, a son caught in her throat. "...ever since then, Uncle Rafael has taken us in."

"I'm so sorry," Diego apologized softly. He moved his hand to wipe away a tear that had began to slide down her cheek but hesitated when she looked up at him. Asking with his eyes, he completed his task, only to accept her in his embrace. Murmuring words of consolation, he held her close, gentle in his touch as she wept on his shoulder. Joaquin said nothing, though a wistful smile appeared on his face. It had pained him to see his sister suffer… at least now, this caballero was able to be that shoulder to cry on for her, quite literally.

Alma fought to regain her composure, pulling away and muttering apologies to the gentleman. She blushed profusely as he took both her hands in his and brought them to his face. His lips kissed each one, lingering on her skin as he kept his eyes trained on her, which made her gape in awe at him. The moment he released her hands, she shyly looked away but kept her hands pressed to her bosom.

"…you act as if you've never had an admirer," he noted gently, his suspicion confirmed as she cast her eyes cautiously over to him.

"…none so genteel as you," she admitted.

"All the men who had come to her before were coyotes," Joaquin scoffed, tossing pebbles into the water. "They all wanted something from Papa…and now that we are related to the Alcalde, I'll bet no one will want anything to do with us."

"Why do you say that?" Diego asked, letting his attention stray to the boy.

Joaquin got himself onto his feet and brushed the dirt off of his pants. "Our uncle is trying to make everyone's life miserable so that he will be recognized at the leader here. Who will want to speak to his niece and nephew?"

"Uncle Rafael is not the only one to blame," Alma added, her brows furrowing as she remembered a certain Commandante. "Ramon enforces the orders Uncle gives, so while he does the dirty work, Uncle exerts his power without actually having to face the people he causes harm to. He treats them as though they are animals, or worse – as though they don't really exist."

"It's all for gold, of course," Joaquin told them quite casually.

"Oh, Joaquin," Alma sighed, shaking her head. "There's no gold-"

"But I heard both of them talking about getting gold in Los Angeles!" he insisted.

Diego's interest was immediately caught, curiosity reeling him in as he tapped his chin in feigned disinterest. "Just how did you hear about this, Joaquin?"

"I found a secret passage that leads from the stables and the chapel to the inside of the house, just behind my uncle's study," Joaquin explained with an excited grin. "It's the most obvious place to find the entrance – it's hidden in a pillar covered in roses between the two places and there's a switch on the base of the pillar, a little button."

"Joaquin!" Alma gasped, frowning at her brother. "I can't believe you would do such a thing…especially without me!"

Diego bit back a laugh at this. "Pray tell, what did you hear them say?"

"Only that there was gold somewhere here and it would make them both rich. They were arguing about the whereabouts mostly, and I heard them scribble the information into a book. I don't which it is or where, but that information is hiding somewhere, and it could get us all into a lot of trouble."

"Well, don't worry Joaquin. I'm sure things will work themselves out-" Diego began, only to blink in surprise as the boy pulled an envelope from his jacket and give it to de la Vega. "What's this?"

"It's a note to Zorro!" Joaquin explained brightly. "It explains everything we talked about with the gold and the secret passage. If Zorro could come and get the book with uncle's notes-"

"Joaquin, just how would Diego find Zorro?" Alma shook her head at the boy, her lips twisting in disbelief at his idea. "Besides, Diego said so himself yesterday that he and Zorro have never met face to face-"

"That is true," Diego nodded, placing one hand on his hip while the other remained aloft, pointing one finger skyward as he gave Joaquin a sly wink. "But you know, I think I know someone who might be able to get this to Zorro. Please don't ask me who, it's most secretive," he said, holding his palm out when the boy began to open his mouth. "But you can certainly trust me to deliver this message."

"Gracias!" Joaquin beamed, handing the letter over.

Alma gave them both skeptical looks, and just as she was beginning to wonder if Diego was possibly mocking them or planned to misuse that information, she watched as Joaquin picked up a stick and began to poke at Diego. Diego in turn grabbed another fallen stick and began to prod back, never advancing and letter Joaquin rule the game. The two laughed and ran about, chasing each other in mirth until Diego grabbed the boy and spun him around before collapsing on his back. Alma couldn't stop herself from laughing, gathering her skirts as she approached them.

"You could make a fine swordsman, Diego," Joaquin offered.

Diego waved him away, pretending to gasp for air. "Fighting is vulgar, and most fatiguing. I'd rather discuss problems and find solutions."

"Hmph," Joaquin rolled his eyes.

Rising to his feet, Diego found himself staring into Alma's eyes once more, entranced by the happiness in her eyes. "We should go, Joaquin, and eat breakfast," Alma said, never removing her eyes from Diego's. Letting the boy run ahead, she whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked quietly.

"For playing with him… accepting his silly idea," she explained.

"It's not at all silly," Diego chuckled. "I plan to get this letter to its intended owner, one way or another." Feeling said envelope tucked safely away within his vest, he reminded himself that he could not read it until he alone at home…then he could certainly find 'Zorro' and let him take a look at the important document's contents.

~Z~

Diego waited all day until he could finally dress in his dark attire for a nighttime visit to the Quintero household. He was anxious to find out all that he could, for the sake of all California as well as the siblings that lived in the hacienda. Still, even as he rode out to accomplish his mission, he could remove the smiling faces of Alma and Joaquin from his memory. When his father and Bernardo had joined them at breakfast, they soon became enchanted with Alma's kindness and piano skills whilst Joaquin amused them in his desire to learn all he could about magic tricks. Joaquin, ever the excited and mischievous child, whispered to Diego of his knowledge of Quintero and Ramon's dirty secrets.

"Uncle is extremely superstitious, he wears a cross at all times and even keeps garlic Ina drawer by his bedside!" he had confessed, causing Bernardo to bite his to tongue in order to hide his laughter as so not to give himself away to the child. "He's also stolen lots of money from people, at least that's what I've heard when he and Ramon talk. He teases Ramon because he got in trouble in Spain and was banished here a few years ago. Something about an…affair, I think. A duchess was mentioned and a duel, too…I couldn't hear much else at the time without getting caught."

"Incredible how such a small boy can be so clever and sneaky…I'll have to keep an eye on him," he thought to himself, tugging the reins as he saw the outline of the grand hacienda in the distance. "Move slowly, Tornado," he whispered to his loyal steed, the horse nodding and following his instructions at once. Arriving at the outer wall of the courtyard, he used the wooden stands and tresses for the winding wildflowers as a ladder, nimbly scaling the wall until he peered over to the other side. Seeing that no one was present, he waved his hand to Tornado, signaling him to hiding until he was needed once more.

Slipping down, using his whip to help him land quietly, he slunk through the garden until he came to the enclosed stables, separated from the private chapel by a large pillar. Pulling out the boy's note, he followed the child's incredibly descriptive directions, amused by the little map the boy had added by scribbling it in at the bottom. The door softly clicked open, giving his gloved fingers enough room to pry it open. Peering into the darkness, he saw there were a few steps before the opening gave way to an underground tunnel, dimly lit by only one torch, most likely lit by Joaquin's last visit. Stepping inside, he shut the door after him and took note of the little level within the stone pillar that would serve as his handle to leave when the time came. He silently thanked the boy as he hopped down into the passage, taking the meager torch and following its only trail to the inside of the Quintero hacienda. He did not have to walk long to find the hidden staircase that would lead to the study. Taking quiet steps, he arrived at the final floor, about three stories up from where he had begun in the tunnel. Reaching out, he grasped the handle before him that seemed to be welded into the stone wall. Turning it gently, he found it would only open as far as he turned the iron ring handle. He looked into the room, seeing nothing and held his breath before entering the study.

Joaquin had been right – it was perfect for spying. The door was placed just behind Quintero's massive oak desk, next to the thick curtain of the bay windows that gave way to a small balcony to his right. Shutting the door, he began to study the books on the shelves of the extensive library. "If I were a greasy weasel, where would put my se-?" Zorro stopped upon hearing footsteps approaching the study. Hiding behind the heavy curtain, he held his breath and waited, hearing labored breathing as someone entered the room.

"It must be in here, oh Santa Maria, please…! Oh, praise God," Quintero's raspy voice hung in the air. Zorro used one gloved finger to cautiously move the curtain away, peering past the cloth to see Quintero had opened a private drawer in his desk with a key he kept hidden under the inkwell. There in the drawer was a small, black leather bound book. Placing it lovingly back in its place, Quintero placed everything in its order, making sure to hide the key back in its spot before walking out of the room, running his fingers through his hair. "That Esteban better catch that fox, or I'll show him I'm more than just a walking lard tub." He spat the words out contemptuously, starting to shut the door after him when he shouted suddenly. "Alma! Joaquin! Get to your rooms this instant! You ought to be asleep! Oye!"

Zorro grinned as he listened to the paunch man run off, wheezing all the while. Moving quickly, he removed the inkwell and took the key, unlocking the drawer to reveal the little black book. Flipping through the book, he realized it was a diary. In it, he saw many topics of interest – just as Joaquin said, he constantly mentioned his fears of supernatural forces; Ramon was mentioned as a Captain in the army, only to be exiled upon being charged and found guilty of having an affair with a Duke's wife and dueling him to the death using dirty tricks; there were several accounts of blackmail and extortion on both Quintero and Ramon's parts, with detailed records of their illegal finances. However, the most horrifying thing of all written in the pages was an account that happened about three months prior.

"I finally gave the order – my brother shall be gone at last. With his murder, I shall acquire his fortune, as well as his two orphaned brats, but no matter…they can be dealt with, and I'm certain I shall find some use for them."

"Animal," Zorro snarled, his hands curling so much that he nearly crushed the journal. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes as he fought to clear his head. Shutting the book, he tucked it into his boot before taking a sheet of paper and scribbling a note, putting it in place of the book. Locking the drawer and placing the key back in its place, he turned to go back through the secret passage when his mind flashed to unruly Joaquin. "…I'm sure he won't mind if I visit," he smirked, checking to see if the coast was clear before exiting the library.

The stillness of the halls gave him confidence that no one was around. Stealthily, he crept past many doors, wondering which one could belong to the boy. As he reached out to grab the nearest knob and test it, a door just a few feet away opened. Leaping into action, he tested the handle, and when it gave way under his touch, he slid into the room and shut the door quietly. Pressing his palms to the door, he began to lean his head to the wooden frame when a terrified gasp caught his attention. His brows furrowed, he spun around, ready to face whoever it was that had seen him…

"Alma?" he breathed, his eyes widening as he caught sight of her kneeling at her bedside a short distance from him, her brown eyes filled with fear. The moment she opened her mouth to scream, he lunged for her, covering her lips with one hand while the other subdued one of her fists. "Senorita, I'm not here to hurt you!" he insisted in a whisper, mortified when he saw she was crying from fright. Alma's words flickered in the back of his mind as he remembered how she had told him that masked men had entered their house the night their father was killed. "Please, senorita, don't cry. I'm a friend…my name is Zorro," he spoke softly, relief filling him as she recognized the name and blinked back her tears, looking at him with caution, but more out of inquisitiveness than distrust. Slowly, he slid his hand off of her mouth, his heart pounding wildly as he realized how close their faces were. "I did not mean to intrude on you. I was looking for your brother."

"My brother?" she asked, wiping her face clean. "What would you want with…? Oh." Her eyes grew large once again at the sight of Zorro withdrawing her brother's letter from his belt. "But how-?"

"Alma! Alma, open this door, nina!"

Both their heads whipped around at the sound of Renee's tart, furious voice.

"Open this door or I swear I'll break it down!"


A/N: I do apologize if this dragged on for too long. I wasn't quite satisfied each time I tried to end it. I kept forgetting to mention that Quintero and Ramon's characters are based more or less off the Tyrone Power movie, Renee is just pure evil, Joaquin is inspired from just about any child fanboy/girl that appears in any Zorro adaption (as well as the Antonio Banderas film), and Alma is more or less based on Lolita, also from the Power film. I do have another OC planned to make an appearance in later chapters but I won't spoil it for now.

Since tomorrow it's back to work, I'm not sure when I'll be able to get back to post or write the next chapter; at the most, I'll be back in action by Christmas break *fingers crossed*. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving, and I'll be looking forward to my next time here online. See you next time!