Chapter 59 – The Rescue Plan

Felipe and Cristina were hiding on the tavern's roof. They had arrived in the dark with two spared saddled horses. They had tied the four animals on the rack at the back of the building, out of view, and they were now carefully surveying the situation across the plaza. Two or three soldiers guarded each door at the garrison and the office, and they could see another one at the roof making rounds, walking from side to side over the tiles.

"Blimey. They are prepared this time. They are obviously waiting for Zorro to arrive, and they are more organized than usual." She concentrated, looking intently into the darkness. "I can count nine. Is that right?" Felipe nodded, after using his fingers to count quickly. "And I assume another two or three will be guarding the back door. Now, how many darts there are left, again?"

Felipe showed up seven fingers. They were short this time. Diego had not been replacing the darts since he had lost his memory because he didn't know how to make them, and the supplies had run out. Felipe didn't know how to prepare the poison either, so, with no fresh mixture left to dip new darts in, there were only seven left since the last time Zorro had used them.

"Dammit. It is not enough. Well, Felipe, we can't fail. You have to be really accurate with those seven; don't waste them. Hopefully, the substance in them is still active and it will work as well as before. I think we can use them on the two guards at the side door, and the one on the roof, and keep the others to neutralize the guards inside the jail. Hopefully, they will be less than four, so they don't have time to raise the alarm. And hopefully, the others outside will not see us," she said, uncomfortable having to incorporate so many "hopefully's" into her so called plan.

ZZZ

Diego landed at the theatre again. The actors were on stage rehearsing some scenes, and they looked frustrated. Diego was wearing similar clothes to them, no longer bright orange or black, but a plain, simple tunic in a neutral, faded, brownish colour.

"Where are Jesus and Judas? This is not serious! It is a waste of time! It is pointless to rehearse without at least Jesus!" complained one of the apostles. "And tomorrow is the first night!"

"Ah, look, there he is. Come on, Diego! We are waiting for you. You are late," said the director. He grabbed Diego's sleeve and pushed him to his spot in the middle of the stage. "We are doing The Last Supper. Go!"

"What? Where…?" asked Diego, looking around, disconcerted.

"Truly I say to you… Come on, Jesus, you know the verses!"

"Truly I say to you that one of you will betray Me," said Diego hesitantly, nearly stammering.

"Is it I Lord?" asked one of the apostles.

"Surely you don't mean me, Lord?" said another. They all asked Jesus, until it was Judas's turn.

"The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."

At the time for Judas to speak there was a moment of silence because he wasn't there.

"And Judas said: 'Surely it is not I, Rabbi?'" the new alcalde asked standing in front of Diego, imitating De Soto's voice.

"You have said it yourself," said Diego in a cold, harsh tone.

ZZZ

"Can you get to that dark corner undetected, and then wait for my signal to neutralize the guard at the roof? I can do an owl cry, like this," Cristina said, imitating the sound really badly. "I'll do it when the guard has reached that corner and has turned already, so you can hit his back with the dart. Unless you have a better idea." Felipe shrugged his shoulders, showing his palms up. He had nothing. "Then you can walk over the roof to get closer to the ones guarding the side door. I'll do the sound again to tell you when you can lean over the roof. All right? I know. As a plan is not much, but I don't know what else to do," she apologized. No, it wasn't really much of a plan; it was total, crazy improvisation. She wondered how the former Diego could do this kind of thing all the time, as easy as pie, and nearly always on his own, with no backup.

Felipe nodded and got off the roof to walk a large semicircle to get to the other side of the plaza undetected. Moving slowly and silently in the shadows, he got close to the wall of the alcalde's office. Now, he would have to jump up to look over the edge of the roof and shoot the dart at the guard, all in one go. "Diego, why can't you be here doing this instead of me?"

ZZZ

They carried on with the verses of the Last Supper, until they got to the part when Jesus predicts Peter's Denial.

"This very night you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written: 'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.' But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee," said Diego confidently, enjoying the acting now after the initial shock of being on stage.

Peter, the new alcalde, replied: "Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will."

"Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times," Jesus-Diego replied.

"Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!" Peter insisted, and all the other disciples said the same.

While they changed the scenery to Gethsemane in the background —as this was the main rehearsal prior to the play's first night, and the director wanted to check everything would run smoothly— the new alcalde got off the stage to drink a glass of water. Diego didn't move from stage, but he stood at the edge of the platform, away from the machinery to avoid any more accidents.

Suddenly, the main doors burst open, and a group of soldiers of the Guardia Real came into the theatre. The former alcalde was with them, looking scruffy, filthy with black smoke stains and wearing ragged clothes. He was also bleeding from superficial injures. As a big contrast, his hair was now totally white as if transformed instantly by some stressful event.

"Look. There is Judas. Finally," said the new alcalde, leaving the glass on the table to reach for his sword. "What's up with the hair? Are you wearing a wig?"

"That's the one! Arrest that man!" shouted De Soto. The guards advanced quickly to apprehend the dark-haired man, pushing some of the now empty chairs of the public out of their way to get there faster.

"Ignacio, I told you not mess up with me, didn't I?" Roberto growled. "Why are you still alive?"

The new alcalde pulled out a pistol with his left hand and shot De Soto, hitting the side of his abdomen. Then he lunged against the soldiers, stabbing the first one through the chest. He pulled the blood-stained sword back quickly and with a continuous, fluent movement, he sliced the throat of the next attacker open.

Roberto was a fencing champion, a proud pupil of Sir Edmund, and he didn't hesitate for a moment to take his skills at the "sala de armas" to a higher level, maiming everyone around him. He parried with ease all the thrusts the soldiers delivered trying to reach him, always replying with accurate, deadly ripostes. At one point he produced another pistol from under his robe to shoot a soldier in the face while slicing another with his sword. It was a blood bath.

Diego looked at the fighters from the stage, immobile, mesmerized by the alcalde's fencing skills. Roberto was relentlessly fighting his way out of the theatre, leaving a trail of agonizing bodies behind. He was approaching the stage to get to the back door with bullets flying by him, but Roberto was either too fast or too lucky, and none had hit him. Some of the actors on stage had reached for their swords, but, as they were fake props for the play, they were useless against that slicing fury coming their way, so they threw them on the floor and fled the scene, together with the director.

As he was playing Jesus, Diego didn't have a sword to fight with, not real nor fake. However, he didn't think it was the right time to "not resist an evil person and turn the other cheek," as his character in the play would advise, so he grabbed one of the make-believe swords that lay on the floor around him and he got on the way, trying to stop that crazy man.

"De la Vega, get off the way," Roberto advised with an amused smile while getting closer.

"No. What have you done?"

The new alcalde laughed, but he didn't answer. Instead, he attacked Diego. He sliced his useless sword in two, and when he was about to stab him, he received a gunshot in his shoulder. Diego jumped back and Roberto's sword only scratched him superficially. Roberto hunched in pain and carried on running, ignoring Diego, and finally reached the back door. The remaining soldiers ran behind him while crying for help.

"In the name of the King, stop that man!"

Diego approached the former alcalde. He was trying to sit up, covering his bleeding, injured flank with his left hand.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, De la Vega. Thank you. I'll live," he grumbled. Then, he looked at Diego directly into the eye. "You are nearly ready now, but you have to see something else before you wake up."

All the candles went off at once, and the blackest darkness surrounded Diego.

ZZZ

"Victoria, can I come in?" Doña María Luisa asked after knocking gently on the door. She thought she had heard a fainted "yes", so she opened the door slowly and came into the dimly lit room. Victoria was curled up in bed, covered by the darkness; a solitary, small candle was flickering on the side table, not bright enough to light up the room. "How are you? Do you need anything?"

"I am all right, thank you. Or at least I think I will be, eventually," Victoria said, with a shaky voice. She sat up in bed to look at her visitor, pulling the blanket up to her chin as if that gesture could offer her some protection. She was still crying, with her eyes sore, dim with tears, red and puffy. "I am sorry I came here like this, especially this evening, when you have more important things to worry about. Where is Alejandro?"

"He is all right, don't worry. He is in bed."

"Do you…? Do you know why I am here?" She looked so distressed Doña María Luisa got closer to sat by her side on the bed. Oozing compassion, she gently touched one of the hands that clasped firmly at the blanket.

"Yes. Cristina told me what happened. I am very sorry."

"Who else knows?"

"Nobody else. Only Cristina, doctor Hernández, and me."

"Please, don't tell anybody else. Especially Diego. I am so ashamed! Please, don't tell him what happened, ever."

"Don't worry. There is no need for anybody else to know. Unless you want to tell them yourself."

"Is Diego still here? Is he safe?"

"Yes. He is hiding so the soldiers can't take him to jail."

"I am so sorry," said Victoria, sobbing. "I shouldn't be a burden for you tonight. You must be going crazy with worry for your husband and Don Alejandro. But you shouldn't worry. I am sure Zorro will rescue them tonight."

"I hope so," said the old lady, with a faltering voice.

Unfortunately, Zorro was still unresponsive on the cave, but Victoria didn't know that. It was unbelievable she still didn't know Zorro's identity after all that time.

Her hopeful words tipped Doña María Luisa over the edge. She couldn't keep it together any longer, and she finally covered her face with her hands, crying as well. No, Zorro, wasn't coming to the rescue that night. Instead, Cristina and Felipe were, and Victoria was right: she was going mental with the worry.

"Don't cry, please. Everything is going to be all right." They clung to each other seeking comfort in a hug, crying together for a long while.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro looked through the barred prison window at the thin, crescent moon. This could be his last night alive. He had nearly lost hope completely, but he still wanted to believe there was a chance Diego would wake up to come to their rescue as Zorro.

He really missed the good old times when he didn't know who was under the mask; when he could relax completely, confident in the knowledge that the mystical, indestructible, all powerful hero would save the day every time. That golden, carefree dream had finished the day he found out his son was the one dressed in black riding on Toronado. And, that dream was annihilated when Diego had lost his memory.

"Stop dreaming," he told himself. "Even if he wakes up on time, the new Zorro cannot possible succeed to take us out of jail tonight. We are on our own."

He considered the chances of breaking out of jail themselves. He looked at his friend, who lied in the uncomfortable, rickety, old prison bed, unable to fall asleep due to the worry and the pain, and then he looked up at the window again. No way Francisco could pass through that small space in his condition, even if for some kind of a miracle he was able to break the bars first. Besides, four soldiers were there guarding them, keeping a close eye on their every movement. Don Alejandro gave up. It was a waste of time. A fantasy even worse than believing they could be rescued by Zorro. It wasn't going to happen. They were not going anywhere. At least, not on their own.

ZZZ

Diego suddenly found himself in a small, dark corridor. He didn't know where he was. He saw a dim light at the bottom of the corridor, far away, that was coming his way. When it was closer, he realized the approaching light was no other but the glowing white hair of alcalde De Soto.

"Come. You have to see this so you understand."

Diego followed him down the corridor, intrigued. "Where are you taking me? Where are we going?"

"Sssshhh. Look."

They got to a dark, damp cellar. A few people were there, men and women, all tied up with ropes, with gags in their mouths so they could not cry out. One of them was a frightened small girl, who was sobbing and whimpering in fear. At the opposite side of the room a distinguished gentleman was tied up to a large barrel of gunpowder, and more barrels were distributed on the space around him. The man was struggling with his bonds, shouting muffled cries into the gag that covered his mouth while he wriggled his whole body to get free.

The new alcalde was at the far end of the room, a dead-end, talking to the brown-haired version of the former alcalde, out of view from the restrained captives, behind them.

"Are you crazy? What do you think you are going to achieve with this? Let them go. Before it's too late," said De Soto.

"No. This will be an eye-opener. Lots of people would like to see the king on the guillotine. We have to follow the French in this. We have to get rid of all the aristocrats and the king to recover the Republic."

"This is not the way to do it! Murdering people like this will get you no sympathy. There is a small, innocent girl in there, for Christ sake! You are crazy. I'm leaving. I don't want to be involved in this." He pushed past the new alcalde to leave, but Roberto quickly got his pistol out and banged De Soto's head with the butt.

"Oh, yes, you are. Totally involved. You are staying."

Roberto bonded De Soto's hands and feet with a piece of spare rope. Then he got one of the burning candles and set on fire the long fuse that connected to the larger barrel of gunpowder.

"He made a special fuse that burned really slowly, so he had time to get out of here and be far away when the gunpowder exploded. The bastard knew his chemistry well," said the glowing-haired De Soto, sulking. "Do you know who he is, yet?"

Diego shrugged his shoulders. "The new alcalde of Los Angeles?"

"That's Roberto Malpartida. He finally succeeded to kill me the third time he tried, at your hacienda. You have to stop him."

"What?" Diego turned to look at his companion, but he had disappeared in the blink of an eye. When he looked at the gloomy scene again, De Soto was awake and was struggling to break his bonds, the same as all the others. The fuse was getting dangerously short. The old rope Roberto had used to bond his feet finally snapped with the jerky motions of his legs, and De Soto managed to kick his feet free.

De Soto stood up with his hands still tied up at the front. He looked at the barrel and the now nearly finished fuse, which was a few meters away from him at the other end of the room, like evaluating the chances to stop it in time. Then he looked at the little girl.

"I am sorry." He turned around and ran towards the corridor.

"Don't go! Save them!" Diego shouted.

De Soto stopped and turned to face him. "Shut up! This haunted me for the rest of my life. There was no time!" he cried, and then continued running away to the exit corridor.

"Coward son of…"

Diego didn't finish the sentence because the barrel exploded.

ZZZZZ