Disclaimer: I don't own DP.
Desperado
Chapter 7: The Deceptions
Commander Dashiell Baxter stared at the woman in great suspicion. "I thought we left you by the river."
She stared at him, saying nothing.
The confederate was a well-built man with a strong jaw. If his face did not so ooze with arrogance and a bullying sense of impatience, he might have been handsome. He added snidely to frighten her, "Helping the enemy is a crime worthy of death, you know."
Sam felt anger stifle her fear. "Danny is not my enemy."
The commander's lips twitched, as did his eyebrow. Then he turned to Danny with a morbid sense of curiosity. "Well, I guess he is a pathetic snot. Not much of an enemy."
Danny looked up at Dash with irritation, still breathing unevenly from the pain of his open wounds. "Why d-don't you get shot twice," he said, voice shaky, "and s-see how you f-feel."
"I've been shot three times," he said, "and I took it like a man." Then he turned back to Sam and motioned with his rifle, telling her, "Now get out of here before I stop being nice."
Sam knew that Dash would probably let her walk away. But she would never be able to live with herself—and a deep fire of anger lit at his suggestion that he was doing her a favor. "I'm not leaving," she said. Her voice was strong despite the rapid pounding of her heart.
"Sam," Danny pleaded with her, stricken and pale.
The commander looked as if he would laugh or snarl. "You want to stay and suffer? Well, if you're so attached." He lowered his gun, and for a second, Sam thought that perhaps they would negotiate. But then he grabbed for her hair, his large fingers digging into her scalp and pulling up.
"Agh!" she gasped, violet eyes widening in pain as she reached up, grabbing onto his hand. She tried to push him away, but his hand was steel. He dragged her up to her feet, pulling her close to him until he could lock his arm around her waist. "Let me go! Let me—!"
"—Let her go," Danny begged, struggling to sit up taller with a rasp of pain. Fear for Sam's own safety was racing his adrenaline. "Please."
"She's kinda cute," Dash said, less out of true attraction and more to see Danny's reaction. He easily held back the struggles of the woman to escape and laughed. "You know, if you like stick women with a boy's haircut. But that's probably the best you can get, huh, Yankee."
Danny's face twisted with anger. "Let. Her. Go," he said, voice strengthening.
Sam cried out as Dash turned her head and leaned his head against hers. "Why?" he asked casually. "Now that I know you like her so much, maybe I'll just keep her."
From beyond the bushes, the two other Confederate soldiers and the black woman appeared. "Dash," called out one soldier, "what's going on? Where did—?"
"—The woman followed us back," he snarled over his shoulder. "Now we gotta take care of her too."
Sam turned her wild eyes to the other Confederates. The two other man stared back in morbid interest—the black slave simply stared down at the ground, looking uncomfortable. She seemed more willing to look at Danny.
Danny's voice was strong now despite his delirium. "She doesn't know anything," he rasped. "Let her go. Please."
The commander laughed dryly. "And make her miss all the fun?" His hand began to stroke her neck.
Her face twitched in fury, "You—!" In a feat of strength, she managed to loosen one of her arms. Her elbow swung up to clip Dash in the face, unbalancing him backwards. She nearly escaped his grasp—but then his steel hand clamped down on her arm. He swung her around and backhanded her across the face. Her neck snapped sideways.
Danny lost it, his hatred burning into fury. "You bastard—don't you hurt her!" he yelled, blue eyes darkening as he struggled against his bonds. "Don't hit her!"
Sam reeled from the pain of Dash's heavy hit, mind too scrambled as Dash pulled her back close again. She nearly would have fallen without him to hold her up. But Dash ignored Danny's yells, and he grabbed her chin. Her cheek was red, and her lip bled from his fingernail catching too hard against her skin. "If you don't wanna find out what else I do to unruly women," he told her, voice low, "then hold still." And he turned her around to face Danny.
Her eyes were wide with pain, lips open in a gasp. She barely acknowledged that Danny was yelling in what was possibly the most impressive use of his lungs yet.
"Let her go!" he cried, struggling against his bonds. The blood against his white shirt leeched wetly as he moved, breaking open scabs. His voice broke. "Dammit, she's innocent! She's innocent!"
Dash rolled his eyes at the soldier's righteous anger and lack of self-concern. "You want her free? Then let's make this real simple," he said. "You have information I want. I have your girl. We'll trade, and I'll give her back to you. More or less unharmed."
"I'm—not his girl," Sam managed to gasp, eyes narrowing in pain. She weakly tried to resist him again now that the mind-blinding sting had worn off.
Danny paused, dizzily trying to collect his breath, swallowing hard. There was no guarantee that Dash would keep the deal, or that it was even fair. Odds were high that he'd throw Sam to ground and execute them both. He had to change the deal somehow—switch the status quo. His mind felt as mud as he tried to wade through his thoughts. How could he guarantee Sam's life? (And possibly his own?)
The commander added, voice low in threat, "I know you deciphered our code. I know you read what was in the note. I need to know what it said."
With a grimace, Danny adjusted his arms, nearly gasping when his wounds caught. "Wh-why didn't your spy just…tell you?" he challenged. "The man who betrayed me—he s-saw the note too."
"Yeah, and sensitive information like this doesn't get out of a Yankee camp too fast. I'm not going to risk exposing an asset if I can get the same thing from a liability like you. So what was it? An order to move troops? Political insights? Covert operation instructions?"
Danny burned at the insults, his face flaming up. "I'm n-not going to tell you."
"That's too bad. And here I thought the atmosphere would help you to make the smart decision." In a split second, Dash pushed Sam at his subordinate officer, and the man instinctively caught her, holding onto her tight as she tried to break away.
The freed Dash then walked up to Danny. He kicked the man hard in the stomach, shoving him backwards against the tree. Pain exploded everywhere as Danny's head bashed into the wood. And for a moment, all Danny saw was darkness, and all he could feel was the sickening desire to vomit and die as his stomach bled open.
He barely heard Sam's scream of his name, or the way she struggled against the other soldier.
Dash kneeled beside Danny and grabbed hard onto the locks atop his head, forcing his prisoner to look up at him. Danny's eyes rolled up in near-unconsciousness, lips opened with shallow gasps. "You're pretty stubborn," Dash said. "I kinda like that you can just keep taking punishment. But blood loss, infection—something's gonna get you if you don't get help soon. You're running out of time to save your girl. And yourself. Give me something good."
The Union soldier moaned, tears leaking from his unfocused eyes. His body was going into shock, nearly all of Sam's hard work undone against him. Blood loss was making him dizzy and weak. And so he made himself appear even more weak than he was, his face twisting in a convincible shame. "D-doctor," he rasped, agreeing. "Don't w-wanna die. Fix me." His eyes managed to focus on Dash, a dangerous deal pouring from his lips. "I'll…w-work for you. Tell you everything. If you d-do that. And let S-Sam go."
"…What?" Sam breathed, eyes wide in confusion. "Danny, no—!"
Dash released Danny's hair, and the soldier's head hung down as he began to cough up blood. "That's an interesting deal, Yankee. Offering yourself as a punching bag? Choosing to betray your country for a bad-mannered stick? How can I say no." Then the commander snapped his fingers. "Kole, you stay here and guard while Valerie minds the fire. Kwan and I will run into town and get a doctor to fix up this rat. Tie up the girl in the meantime; we need to keep her around so he'll keep his side of the deal."
"Yes, sir!" both of his subordinates saluted, getting to work. The one who was holding back Sam, the soldier named Kwan, began to push her forward to the tree beside Danny. The slave woman turned away, eyeing the distant dead horse and dead black man before moving on.
"Let me go—" Sam repeated breathlessly, but Kwan had her tied up quickly, using rope from his belt.
"Commander's orders," he apologized without much concern, tying her arms around the small tree trunk. She winced, thinking of how to best kick him when he came back around. The soldier seemed to anticipate that her free legs were a hazard, and so he stepped away from behind.
And soon enough, the sound of the Confederate's horses began to pound away from the site, leaving the one soldier with a rifle and the slave woman to tend the fire.
She whispered hotly, greatly confused and worried, "What the hell kind of deal was that? What are you thinking?"
Danny leaned his head against the tree trunk as he gasped for air. His limbs were trembling. "I b-bought us—time. We n-need time."
She eyed his wounds, which were still bleeding sluggishly from Dash's abuse. "You don't have time."
"If w-we don't get out of here…in time—they'll f-figure it out anyway." He swallowed back blood. "If I s-stay b-behind, I can w-work on other ways to s-stop them. D-damage control."
The Confederate soldier named Kole took one look at his prisoners who were whispering, and he scoffed. It was a dying soldier and a woman. A pointless task, to guard them. He lowered his rifle and began to walk away towards the fire upwind, where the object of his true attention stood.
As the slave bent over to stoke the fire, the soldier named Kole watched her. He set his rifle down, and then walked up behind the slave woman. "Valerie," he said. "You know how long it's been since Dash let you out of his sight?"
She set down the fire rod, eyes widening at the sudden feel of the man's hands on her hips. She slowly stood up. "Uh, n-no, Masta' Kole."
"So long," the man complained. "Months."
She grew very hesitant, calculating her response. "Masta' Dash gonna come back soon an' see ya touchin' me."
"It's an hour-round trip," he said, sweeping his hands up. "We have time for some fun."
Her eyes widened. "He gonna know ya took me again. He gonna beat me for it."
His fingers brushed against her lips. "I'm not going to let him beat you for this, Valerie."
The slave smiled nervously, leaning her head into his touch. "Well…. " Her fingers shook, and her eyes were tight, recalculating. Her gaze darted to the prisoners on the other side of the clearing. Then she sighed and lowered her eyes demurely. "Ya know I do anythin' for ya, Masta' Kole."
The Confederate smiled, eyes darkening. "Good." He swept back her ringlet hair, pushing her away from the fire and a bit deeper into the woods. "We'll be quiet, then. No one will know."
He held her chin and kissed her hard, pressing her against a tree trunk. His mouth and body were familiar to her, as she was to him. He pressed against her harder, losing his sense of inhibition.
Her graceful, dark hand swept down his side. And then she grabbed onto a knife from belt, pulling it out silently. She broke off their kiss. She smiled shakily, her full lips bruised with his passion. "Ya know, Masta' Kole," she said softly, "I been waitin' a long time for this."
His lips stretched in satisfaction, ego stroked. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." And then her face twisted, and she stabbed him hard in the chest.
The man stumbled back in surprise. Valerie's face twisted with a cry, and she stabbed him again, then again. The man's eyes widened, and he fell back in total shock, blood running down from his mouth. His body made an odd thump against the earth as he wheezed a few times, then choked and fell still.
Valerie stood with the bloodied knife in her hand for some time, the man's blood shining against her skin. Her eyes were wide and wild. Then she dropped the knife, and it clattered to the ground. She looked at her hands, which were trembling. Her chest heaved with odd sobs as she thought, I done it now. I done it. If I don' do this right, they gonna hang me.
The slave looked up, her teal eyes bright with pain. She began to walk forward, but not in a daze. There was something calculated in her steps. She eyed the dead black man in the distance again, eyes hardening. I got warrior blood, she repeated to herself. I can do it. I'm halfway there.
She entered back into the clearing. The prisoners were still tied up, the white woman looking as if she were desperately trying to cut her ropes against the bark of the tree. The soldier looked barely conscious, his bullet wound still bleeding openly.
The white woman noticed her return, and the two of them locked gazes for a time. The prisoner's face was still red from Dash's slap, her lip having clotted over—oh, did Valerie know the pain of his backhands. She began to approach with a little more confidence. The Yankee man noticed her now, his eyes dully following her. They were the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She'd probably have stared more at him if she had time to.
The white woman asked hesitantly, "…Where did the soldier go?"
"Masta' Kole is dead," Valerie said, wiping the blood from her shaking hands. Her raspy voice was full of pained determination as she kneeled down beside the woman and began to untie the knots around Sam's hands. "So we gonna make a deal."
Sam's eyes widened, and she was struck dumb as her hands loosened from the ropes.
Valerie turned back to her. Her eyes were hard, her full lips set into a grim line. "I'm gonna let ya both go," she whispered, voice breaking, "and ya gonna bring down Masta' Dash and the whole damn Confederacy. For good."
A/N: Another heavily redesigned chapter. The Valerie scene takes on a much darker turn.
