Southeast of the Rio Grande

Late Evening

Buck used a long stick to poke at the fire and sighed tiredly. They'd rode steadily southwest since crossing the Rio Grande, but it felt as if they were no closer to finding the missing men. Josiah was sitting across from him, reading from the dog-eared Bible and Buck wondered why people thought the older man had lost faith. From what he saw, Sanchez had more faith in his little finger than most people had in their whole bodies.

Ezra was sitting against a tree, shuffling a deck of cards with the precision and fine tuning of years of practice. He knew the gambler was as worried as he was, and wished he could find something to keep his mind occupied, but as the moon rose high overhead, his mind wandered to the others, and whether they were safe.

Buck thought about Chris, and the long time friendship they shared. There'd been more ups and downs than he wanted to think about, but that had all changed when he saw Chris in Four Corners. It had taken some time, but they'd managed to talk and Buck had never been so glad to renew an old acquaintance.

'We're coming,' Wilmington thought as the sounds of the night kept him company on his lonely vigil. "Just hold on a little longer."

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East of the De Rivera Hacienda

Midnight

Luis Martinez rode slightly ahead of his men as they neared the hacienda. He knew Don Garcia would be happy with the news he brought and wished there was some way he could stop the fight that would take place in the Arena de Muerte. Don Paulo had smiled at the thought of a fight, and confirmed that he would arrive at the arena in two days.

Martinez looked around in the darkness, aware that the bright, full-bodied moon surrounded by a vast blanket of twinkling stars cast a soft glow on the fields. The workers had long since retired to their quarters and would not be roused until dawn when they would begin their work anew. Luis dismounted in front of the house, not at all surprised when Don Garcia spoke from his position on the porch swing.

"Did Don Paulo accept my invitation?"

"Si, Patron, he will be there at dawn in two days time," Martinez explained and although he could not see the elderly man's face he knew the man was smiling at the thought of a fight to the death between Don Paulo's champions and the two gringos. "It will not be much of a fight if the gringos…"

"Do not think to interfere, Luis, I will not warn you again."

"I am sorry, Patron, I was just thinking it would be more entertaining if…"

"I will speak with Jackson in the morning…see that Larabee and Tanner are placed in Benito's old quarters and allow no one to see them until they meet Don Paulo's fighters in the Arena." Tell Hernando I wish to see him at first light."

"Si, Patron," Martinez said. He knew Benito's quarters had been left untouched since the elderly man had died nearly a year ago. There were no windows and only a single, heavy wooden door that would make it easy to keep the two men from escaping.

"Tell Hernando I wish to see him at first light," De Rivera ordered and turned away without waiting for an answer.

Luis walked with his men toward the stables. He knew his mother was watching him from the upper floor, but did not turn back because he knew he would feel the sorrow and pain she suffered each time he did as his father ordered. She did not blame him, but there was always that hint of despair that flowed through her mind.

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Four Corners

Early Morning

Mary Travis looked at the paper she'd just printed, and wished she had better news to impart to the townspeople. Most of them knew and understood why the seven peacekeepers had left the town in search of the banditos. Her father-in-law had hired them to protect the citizens of Four Corners, including the homesteaders and cattle ranchers who used the town as a place to buy supplies. Unfortunately there were also men like Conklin and Royal who didn't care about anyone or anything, but themselves.

"Mary, has there been any news?" Gloria Potter asked from the open doorway.

"Not since they left."

"It's been five days."

"I know, Gloria, but if the wires are still down there'd be no way for them to send word," Mary explained. Gloria came to see her every morning with the same question and the newspaper woman wished she had some good news, but she was as much in the dark as everyone else.

"Inez said Maria is talking about going east once Mr. Larabee and the others return," the store owner told her.

"Maria has been through a lot and I think the change would do her good," the newspaperwoman explained.

"Mr. Conklin was trying to get the townspeople riled up last night."

"I know…he's the reason I want to get this edition out early. I'm hoping if the people read some positive stories about our peacekeepers perhaps it will shut Conklin and the others down."

"I hope so, Mary, I'd hate to think what this town would be like if it wasn't for Mr. Larabee and the others. If it wasn't for them, people like Lucas James would get away with murder and I'd have had to leave this town a long time ago. This is home for me and I'm proud of our town and the people…well most of the people who live here."

"I agree, Gloria…I want Billy to come home, but I want him to know there's nothing to be afraid of anymore," Mary said and took the bundle of papers in her hands before exiting the newspaper office.

"I'd better get back to the store before people complain I'm sleeping late again," Gloria said with a slight smile before hurrying toward the mercantile.

Mary took a deep breath and began distributing the newspapers to her regulars. She knew she'd catch some flack from people like Conklin and Royal, but right now she didn't really give a damn what they thought of her. She greeted several people including the Wilson family before making her way toward the saloon to join Inez and Maria for breakfast and to talk about the missing peacekeepers.

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De Rivera Hacienda

Early Morning

Hernando Lopez paced in front of the main door of the house, his fingers digging into the brim of his hat. Luis had told him Don Garcia wanted to see him at first light, but so far the elderly man had not allowed him through the door. He hated being pulled away from tormenting the blond gringo, but until the patron released him he would have to remain here and wait.

"Hernando, Don Garcia is waiting for you in his office," Juanita Perez said, and held the door for the man to step inside. "Wipe your feet."

Lopez did as she told him and hurried toward the closed office door. He knocked gently and opened the door when the familiar voice told him to enter. "You wanted to see me, Patron?"

"Yes, Hernando, I have something I want you to do," De Rivera told him. "I want you to take your men and ride north toward Purgatorio. You will check the villages between here and that filthy town and make sure they know I will not allow anyone to interfere in my business."

"Si, Patron," Lopez said, frowning when the elderly man made a gesture of dismissal. "What of the Gringo?"

"The gringo is no longer your concern, Hernando, do not think to question me again."

"I am sorry, Patron, I did not mean…"

"Leave me before I throw you into the Arena!" De Rivera warned, a hint of a smile forming when the other man bowed before hurrying away. He'd built this Hacienda on fear and enjoyed the power it gave him over the people he thought were beneath him. Drinking the last of his coffee, Don Garcia stood and walked out through the French doors that opened onto the back of his property and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his weathered features.

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Vin shifted his aching body and tried to stretch out in the narrow confines of the cage, but there was no way to work the kinks out. He'd woken to the sounds of the mestizos heading for the fields, but Gores had passed him by with just an angry glance in his direction. Something had changed, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. A sound to his left caught his attention and he frowned as two men, strangers to him stepped up to his cage.

"Come, Gringo," Luis Martinez ordered when his companion opened the door of the cage. One look at the American told him he wouldn't last long in the Arena de Muerte even with Nathan Jackson's help. The Texan was paler than any living man and reminded Luis of a ghost like those in the books his mother used to read him. The lips were flaking, showing how deeply dehydrated the man was, while a hint of red flushed through both cheeks.

"What the fuck do ya want?"

"Don Garcia wants you to be taken care of," Martinez told him.

"Don't give a fuck wh…what that bastard wants," Tanner snarled.

"He will make your friend suffer if you do not do as he wishes," Luis said sadly, and saw how his warning nearly devastated the ill man. "Help him, Lucas."

"Come, Gringo, at least you will not have to sleep in this cage," Aguilar explained and helped the trembling man from the cage.

Vin soon found himself sandwiched between De Rivera's men, but didn't have the strength to fight them as they dragged him toward the house. He lifted his head and tried to get a glimpse of Nathan Jackson on the veranda, but there was no sign of his friend. His head dropped to his chest as they entered the house, but he kept his eyes open and tried to keep track of where they were taking him. A heavy door was opened and they were joined by a young, dark haired woman holding a lamp that flooded the darkness with light. A set of steep stairs led down to another door and Vin struggled to stay on his feet once they reached the bottom. The woman produced a heavy metal ring with a single key that she placed in the lock and twisted several times before the old mechanism gave way.

Luis held the injured man while Lucas pushed the heavy door open and Juanita stepped inside with the lamp. She placed it on the single table and hurried from the room, leaving the trio alone.

"Why?" Tanner asked when he was lowered onto one of two single cots set against the far wall.

"The Patron wants you ready to fight in two days," Luis explained.

"Fight?"

"Si, rest…you will be given food and water and anything else that will help you regain your strength," Martinez told him. He reached for the shackles and attached one to each of the man's ankles before locking them into a loop set in the stone wall.

"Why are ya doin' this?" Tanner asked, sensing that this man disliked what he was doing.

"Don Garcia is mi padre," Luis answered honestly before leaving the room.

Vin lay back against the soft pillow and let his eyes close as his body tried to adjust to the fact that it was no longer cooped up in a cage that was too small. He stretched out along the mattress, instinctively testing the shackles to see if he could escape, but the heavy metal cut into his skin. He glanced at the second bed and wondered whether someone else would be joining him in his new prison. God, he hoped not, because the Arena de Muerte did not sound like something he'd want to share with his friends.

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Chris lifted his head and stared at the two men who entered the dungeon. He recognized the one who came to stand in front of him, but could not remember his name. He licked at dry lips and waited to find out what the newcomers wanted. Something about the men spoke of pity, but Chris had never been one to accept that emotion. "What the fuck do you want?" he snarled.

"Lucas is going to release you, but if you try anything I will not hesitate to shoot you…perhaps in the leg," Luis warned. This man was dangerous and he knew if given the chance the gringo would take them apart with his bare hands if necessary. He held his gun on the blond as Lucas unlocked the manacles from the hook in the wall and secured them once more to the prisoner's wrists.

Chris wondered what had happened to his usual tormentor, but he wasn't about to ask as Luis motioned him toward the door. His legs barely held him as he struggled to place one foot in front of the other. Once outside he turned toward the field where Vin had worked, worried when there was no sign of the Texan amongst the mestizo people. Moving toward the area where he had been put to work, Chris was startled when a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Not today, Gringo," Luis said and pointed toward the main house. "The Patron wants you to rest and grow strong."

"Why?" Larabee asked suspiciously.

"He has plans for you and the other gringo," Lucas answered.

"The other gringo?" Larabee asked, afraid he already knew the answer. Vin Tanner hadn't been in the fields when they'd made their way toward the house and Chris instinctively understood he was indeed the other 'gringo'. He stood back as Lucas opened the door leading into the back of the house and ushered him through. There were several people working in what looked like a kitchen/storage area, but none of them looked at him as he was led to a heavy door.

"Juanita," Luis called and the pretty young woman hurried toward him carrying a heavy metal key ring. He saw the sympathy in her eyes and wished he could take away the pain that seemed so prevalent lately. This young woman worked hard and someday he hoped Don Garcia would allow him to take her as his wife, but for now he could only watch her and hide his feelings.

Chris watched as the pretty woman opened the door and led them down a flight of stairs. She used the key to open a second door and moved aside to allow them to enter. Larabee barely suppressed his anger when he saw Vin Tanner lying on a cot, his eyes closed. The gunslinger turned to glare at Luis Martinez before Lucas shoved him toward the second cot. Neither man spoke as Larabee was secured in much the same way as the Texan, but the silence spoke volumes for the two men until their captors left and the door was locked behind them.

"Ya look like shit, Cowboy," Tanner said, eyes opening to half-mast, his voice raspy with pain and thirst.

"Looked in a mirror lately?" Larabee asked seriously as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn't rid himself of the images of JD Dunne and sighed tiredly as he felt Tanner watching him closely.

"Where are the others?" the Texan asked.

"Don't know," Larabee lied.

"Chris…"

"We split up and Buck rode back to get the others…JD…" Larabee stopped, swallowing convulsively around the lump in his throat as the door opened and the dark haired young woman entered carrying a heavily laden tray and a pitcher of liquid.

"You must eat and drink…grow strong," Juanita told them, hurrying from the room as Luis followed her out without a word.

Vin watched Chris closely and recognized the pain in the green eyes as Larabee poured a cup of the sweet smelling nectar and passed it to him. "Chris, what happened?"

"We got caught," Larabee answered simply, staring into the juice as if transfixed.

"We?"

"Me and JD," the blond told him.

"Where's the kid?" The words came out on their own and Vin knew the answer. Larabee's grim features reeked of it.

"Dead…"

The Texan could feel the changes in the other man as if it was part of his own emotions. The gunslinger could not meet his eyes and if he did, Vin knew what he would see there. The raw pain flowed from Larabee's body as he lifted the cloth off the tray of food and handed a plate to him. There was no mistaking the guilt that seemed to be tearing Larabee's guts apart and Tanner wondered what had happened to Dunne that would lay such blame at his friend's feet.

"Killed him because of me," Larabee said, his appetite nonexistent as he finally managed to meet the Texan's eyes. "I…I buried him, Vin."

Those four words said it all and Tanner knew nothing would ever ease the torment he saw on the pale face. Larabee had lived with the guilt of his family's death, but it had nearly killed him. Vin knew burying JD Dunne had brought that same guilt back with a vengeance and he wished there was some way to ease the pain and sorrow reflected in Larabee's eyes.

"Chris…it's…"

"Don't tell me it wasn't my fault, Vin!" Larabee snapped, taking a deep breath as his heart hammered a staccato beat against his ribs.

Tanner grew quiet, watching the blond closely as he reached for his plate. The two ate in silence, grieving the loss of the Easterner who earned the right to be part of their band of brothers. "He'll pay, Chris."

Larabee nodded and ate without tasting the food. He had no idea why they were being treated like royal prisoners, but he would take advantage of it if it meant they'd have a chance to kill Don Garcia De Rivera. "Any idea why they put us here?"

"Fatten the calf before the slaughter," Tanner answered.

"What?"

"We're supposed to fight in the Arena de Muerte," the Texan answered.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, "Anyway you look at it, we're going to hell together."

"Maybe not, but least we'll go down fightin'," the tracker said with a cocky grin. The two men grew silent once more, forcing themselves to eat and drink as if this was their last meal.

TBC