Zorro did not return to the cave at the hacienda after he sent Ortiz back to the pueblo tied to his horse. Instead he headed west, to a camp that he had established several days ago on de la Vega land. The camp was in a rocky, hilly area and suited Zorro's purposes well. It was well hidden, the few trees that were able to grow among the rocks ringed his camp, and Diego knew for a fact that the de la Vega hands rarely came this far west since the land was too rugged for cattle.

He had built up his camp as a final training ground using tree trunks, rocks, and the hilly landscape to set up an obstacle course of sorts that he had been using for the past few days. For the most part, he felt recovered enough from his injuries, the only exceptions being his ribs which only occasionally bothered him if he moved wrong, and his right hand. It tended to be very stiff first thing in the morning, especially on the cooler mornings. It often made holding his sword difficult when he trained in the pre-dawn light, but like everything else, he pushed past it.

Now, as he entered his temporary camp, he let a deep sigh escape. He had not intended to hurt the lancer as bad as he had, but he did not feel any remorse, either. He remembered all too well that Ortiz had been one of the lancers in his cell three months ago when the gambler Bishop had nearly killed him. But the wounded lancer would send a clear message to Luis Ramon. The 'Z' carved into the back of his uniform would let Ramon know that Zorro was back. And if the alcalde was smart, he would realize that Zorro was not happy.

Zorro quickly changed his clothes and took care of Tornado. The horse pranced around, seeming to be happy to be back in action. He gave Diego a familiar shove with his nose before moving away to graze. Diego watched the animal for several moments before he settled into his evening routine. He ate a quick dinner of dried meat and tortillas, which he had taken from Maria's kitchen two nights ago when he had made a brief return to the hacienda for Zorro's clothes, then began his training regimen.

As he worked, he thought about his return to the hacienda two nights ago. He had gone in through the cave well after midnight, when he knew everyone would be asleep. He had resisted the temptation to check in on Felipe, not fully understanding how much he missed the boy until he was actually in the hacienda and only a few hundred feet away from him. But he did not take the chance, knowing if he was discovered, he would have a hard time not only explaining what he was doing there in the middle of the night, but also where he had been all this time. Instead, Diego had gone to his own room, retrieved some clean clothes, and then made his way to the kitchen to pick up enough supplies to last him the few more days he would need before he made his presence known.

Diego's sword whistled through the air as he practiced his fencing, his breath coming harder as he thought about his return to the pueblo. He had been keeping an eye on the pueblo the past few days, mostly at night or in the early morning, usually from the rooftops, where he would not be seen. He had a good idea what the alcalde was up to, and Diego realized that his return was well timed. The alcalde was up to his usual tricks, over-taxing the people and generally making life more difficult than it already was living on the frontier. But even from the rooftops, he could tell that the citizens of the pueblo were about at the end of their collective rope. Women and children were no longer seen in the plaza or the pueblo in general, except for attending mass. Peasants and farmers rushed through any chores they had in the pueblo, not wanting to fall under the scrutiny of the alcalde any longer than was necessary.

It was while he watched the people of the pueblo that Diego finally made up his mind regarding Zorro's return. When he told Victoria that Zorro was a part of the past, he had meant it. But spending eight weeks alone in the woods gave him plenty of time to think and he had realized that he was faced with the same problem he had when he returned from Spain. If he fought the alcalde openly, as Diego, retribution would be swift against those Diego cared about the most; Victoria, Felipe, even the de la Vega servants and friends. The death of his father had not changed that.

But while Diego had accepted the inevitable return of Zorro, he also knew in his heart that this time, Zorro would be different. He would no longer play the role of a reactionary; waiting for whatever scheme the alcalde would come up with to oppress the people. The alcalde and his new friend Bishop had a price to pay, not only for what they had done to his father and Victoria, but for what they were now doing to the people of Los Angeles as well.

The problem of keeping Victoria and Felipe safe, however, was one that he did not have as ready a solution for. Felipe had always been a great help to Zorro, but the danger he was constantly in by helping Zorro was never far from Diego's mind. And then there was Victoria. Her love for Zorro put her in a dangerous position. In order to keep them both safe, Diego was going to have to do something he wasn't very fond of. He would have to keep them both at a distance, shield them from Zorro's activities by disassociating them both from Zorro's life. It wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't make him happy to do it, but he would rather have two angry friends than two dead ones.

The sword sang as Diego's moves became faster. The anger he felt at his predicament, the alcalde, and Bishop fueled his movements, and beads of sweat formed along his brow. His gaze was intent as he went through the training moves that had become as familiar to him as the sunshine. A few more days, he thought. A few more days and he would be ready to confront the alcalde's evil.

Week Twelve, Day Three

Corporal Alejo Martinez removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. He watched as fellow soldiers spread out through the rocks, looking for any sign of Zorro. He thought it was a waste of time, looking for the masked bandit, but he knew better than to question the alcalde's orders. Frankly, he doubted that Zorro had really returned after all these months. Knowing Private Ortiz as he did, he guessed the man had lost his dispatches and to cover up his error made up the story of being chased by Zorro. Of course, the injury to the man's arm was serious, but that could be faked too, as a way to get out of his fair share of work.

Martinez replaced his hat and urged his horse forward. He could no longer see the rest of the men and he didn't want to fall too far behind. He picked his way through the rocks, watching the ground for tracks as he went. As he circled around a large boulder, he was surprised to see a piece of black cloth on the ground. He looked around, but he still didn't see the other men, so he slid off of his horse and kneeled down to examine the cloth. He picked it up to find that it was a smooth, silk material. When he held it up, he saw two eye holes and he dropped the cloth as if he had been burned. He tried to stand, but just then something frightened his horse and it reared up. Alejo put his arms up to protect himself from the flailing hooves, but the horse turned and ran in the opposite direction. He tried to follow, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hola, Corporal Martinez," came a deep voice behind him.

Martinez did not turn around, even though the hand on his shoulder lessened its pressure. He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "Who…who are you?"

"Oh, come now, Corporal, I'm sure you know perfectly well who I am. And why I have come for you."

"Come for me?" Manny squeaked out. "Why me?"

The silence that greeted him caused a cold fear to grip Alejo. He made his mind up quickly and lunged forward, out of the grasp of the hand at his shoulder. He scrambled to get away, but he heard a sharp crack and felt the whip circle around his feet, halting his progress. He fell to his knees.

"Please, senor Zorro," Alejo begged as he rolled over to see the man in black standing over him. "Don't kill me."

Zorro made no response, but looked around them. Alejo saw his eyes stop on a ledge nearby and the fear that clutched at his heart intensified. With a boot, Zorro rolled the lancer over to the edge. Alejo looked over and swallowed. The ravine was about a hundred feet deep with many smaller, rocky ledges. They would do nothing to increase his chance for survival if he went over.

"Please don't kill me, Zorro." He begged again.

Zorro kneeled next to the soldier. "Why shouldn't I? You blindly follow the alcalde's orders, even though you know that they are heartless and cruel. You terrorize poor farmers, stealing their last pesos before you evict them from their own land. You, Corporal Martinez, are just as bad as our pathetic alcalde, who doesn't deserve to continue to breathe. Why shouldn't I kill you?"

"Please, I am a soldier, Senor Zorro. I was only following orders!"

"And were you following orders when you tried to help the gambler Bishop murder Diego de la Vega?"

What color was left in Alejo's face suddenly drained. "I…that…we-"

"That's what I thought," Zorro said. With three swipes of his sword and a last push of his booted foot, he sent Corporal Martinez over the edge, a large 'Z' carved in the lancers jacket.

Alejo felt himself falling and a scream escaped his lips as he did so. He felt light as he dropped and he tried to roll into a ball to protect himself as best he could. He sent up a prayer asking forgiveness as he braced for the impact that would surely break bones. But a sudden jerk at his feet reminded the lancer that his feet were still bound by Zorro's whip. His drop stopped with a sudden jolt and Alejo opened his clinched eyes to find himself hanging by the feet over the edge.

He looked up to see Zorro staring down at him.

"I leave you to contemplate your future as a soldier, Corporal. I suggest you think hard about your next career choice." With that the man in black left him.

Alejo felt growing warmth around his middle as he hung over the edge of the ravine. He screamed for help, begging Zorro to come back. Within moments he heard the pounding of hooves, and he knew he was alone. He screamed again, wondering how far his companions had gone and if they would hear him.