Ramon Escalante found re-adapting to living in Los Angeles easier that he had previously believed, despite having spent half his life away from what was still, in his heart, his true and only home.

In all that time, he had lived several different lives, never quite settling in one place. He had fought together with his father and older brother in Hidalgo's rebellion, until they realized the men they were fighting with were nothing but criminals set on destroying all in their path. Left fatherless in one of the battles, he and Francisco then made their way south, looking for a new cause. They joined the army while in Panama, disappointed with the crimes the rebels committed and certain that, despite everything, they preferred fighting for Spain as long as they were doing it under a good, honorable commander.

With help from a colonel who easily took a liking of the two teens, admiring their bravery and sense of justice, the brothers made their way through the ranks, both becoming sergeants in only two years. That lasted until the colonel was recalled to Spain and a new officer succeeded him. Francisco was lucky since, around the time their commander left, he was transferred to Mexico City, where he continued to serve under good and fair superior officers. Ramon was less so.

Thus, after being asked to carry out an order his conscience wouldn't allow him to obey, the younger man tricked his superior officer into believing that he had carried it out, and, days later, resigned and headed south.

A few months later, still searching for a new home and a way to support himself, he reached Venezuela. There, as the country itself had been going through civil unrest and able-bodied men were becoming scarce, he found work as a vaquero. His new employer was a ranchero in his late forties, who, as the young Escalante soon discovered, secretly supported Bolivar's endeavors.

Ramon did his best to keep himself out of trouble and away from political intrigue, but soon found it impossible not to take sides. The fight in Venezuela was different from the revolution that had started in the Nueva Espana with El Grito de Dolores. Unlike Hidalgo's men, its leaders were not cruel and destructive. Bolivar's army was brave, determined, and well-organized; and the people forming it originate in all social layers. They were slaves and dons, professors and farmers, former lancers and artists, men, women, young, old, and teenagers. In truth, seeing the abuses of the Spanish authorities fighting to maintain control over the territory, the summary executions, and the many crimes committed in the name of the king, the young Escalante soon found a new cause, not much different than his first.

That was how, during the following years, the young man risked his life many times while helping those fighting for independence in Venezuela, and soon became his patron's right-hand man, the only one brave enough to lead the civilians trapped by various battles to safety, or simply take provisions to the combatants.

It had been risky, though, and Ramon had come close to losing his life quite a few times. He was injured several times and nearly executed on two occasions at being caught carrying said provisions to the front line. Fortunately, with a smile on his lips, quick thinking, and an innocent look in his eyes, he managed to escape every bad predicament he faced.

When, a couple of years later, Francisco, who had meanwhile been promoted to Lieutenant, also found himself in Venezuela after a failed attempt to relocate back to Los Angeles, Ramon tried to convince his brother to quit the army and go work with him on the farm, where, with so many men killed while fighting for independence, there was much need for guards and vaqueros.

Francisco did quit the military, but only years later, after Ramon returned from Baja California with news that their father had been alive all those years, yet perished at Devil's Fortress just weeks earlier. The younger man was still unsure of what had prompted Francisco to make the decision to renounce his uniform. His brother had never actually told him. Still, by the Summer of 1818, he was a free man, no longer committed to fighting in the Royal Army, and Ramon was more than pleased with that.

A year later, Ramon was already an uncle, Marisol having been born on September 1st, thus celebrating her birthday just a few days after her Aunt Victoria.

Those years after Francisco married and his child was born were some of Ramon's happiest, even if he was away from his family most of the time, living about 100 miles southeast of Caracas. He still made sure to visit them as often as he could, spending at least a full week every few months or so with them.

Eventually, the youngest Escalante brother quit his work and moved in with Francisco and his family. The older man and his wife were more than happy with that decision since they needed his help running the store that constituted their main income source. As for Ramon, he was more than happy to be there for them.

Whether it was luck or misfortune to have led him to said move at the precise moment he had made it, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of, though, was that he might have lost Marisol had circumstances been differed for, less than a month after installing himself in his brother's house, Ramon found himself the legal guardian of his young niece.

He was in the store when he was told the news of the tragedy, arranging the produce and, from time-to-time supervising the toddler left in his care, who was playing outside with her friends. His brother and sister-in-law headed to the port some two hours earlier, when a boy came running to tell him that the coach by which Marisol's parents were travelling had been found turned upside down in a precipice near the main road.

Leaving the child in a neighbor's care and abandoning what he was doing, Ramon ran all the way to the accident site. Francisco was already dead when he reached his loved ones, yet his wife was still alive. She held on to life for as long as it took for him to get there and promise her to take care of Marisol in their place, then followed her husband into the afterlife.

The young man did his best to comply with that promise and take care of the grieving child while organizing the funeral for her parents. Yet it took him no more than those few days to realize that, while he had every intention to always be there for her, he also had no idea how to properly care for a toddler.

Thus, after Marisol's parents were laid to their eternal rest, Ramon wrote to his sister, then sold Francisco's store, house, and everything he could part with. Taking the earned money, his few remaining things, and, most importantly, his niece, he then headed for California, determined to spend the rest of his life in the land where he was born.

ZZZ

About two months had passed since he had returned home, and Ramon was still marveling at the way in which the pueblo had transformed during the past few years.

The last time he had been there was just after his sister had been shot by Bishop. Luis Ramone was alcalde at the time and the man was a thug, forcing the people to pay exorbitant taxes allegedly to the Spanish Crown. In reality, however, he was setting aside a large portion of that money for himself, as Don Alejandro had discovered at taking office. The people were, thus, constantly poor, oppressed, abused, and frightened by both him and his lancers. Only the arrival of a masked man, who was still a mystery to the people of the small colonial pueblo, gave them hope to carry on, and faith in their future.

Now, Los Angeles was under Don Alejandro's administration, taxes were at a historical minimum, the Spanish had left the territory, and the people seemed far more prosperous and happier than Ramon had ever seen them before. There were no more floggings and, in the time since his arrival, nobody was executed.

True, bandits were still roaming the area, yet their crimes were petty thefts, and most of their attacks were usually prevented or stopped either by the lancers or by the still-mysterious man the honest people revered and the thugs feared: El Zorro.

The young Escalante had admired and trusted the masked man since they had first met, years earlier. He knew well that, had it not been for Zorro and his devotion to Victoria, Ramon might have never gotten the chance to see his father one last time before his death, nor make sure he received a proper funeral. Perhaps, the young man thought from time to time, he could have also lost his sister to thugs, the former alcaldes or their men, for Victoria had always had rebellious nature and never shied away from speaking her mind whenever an injustice was committed.

However, seeing how their childhood friend behaved towards his niece, as well as her own affection for the tall caballero, much like his sister, Ramon couldn't avoid feeling rather torn. On the one hand, he supported Victoria's decision to marry Zorro. On the other, he couldn't imagine a better new father for his niece than Diego, nor a better friend to his family.

Soon after his return, thus, unconsciously at first, he started paying more attention to his childhood friend. That was how Ramon began noticing the longing glances the tall caballero gave Victoria whenever she wasn't watching. He also noticed how fast he'd jump off his chair and head for her when he'd hear her scream, even if the reason for such a scream was a mouse or a cooking accident. Furthermore, Ramon noticed how thoughtful and caring Diego behaved towards his sister, not only towards Marisol. Everything Diego did and the way he acted towards Victoria indicated he saw her as much more than a little sister or a good friend. He was in love with her.

Once he reached that conclusion, Ramon also started paying closer attention to Victoria, and it took him little time to realize that she was in love with him, as well. The same, however, seemed true about her feelings for Zorro. Victoria truly loved him, and he loved her, just as Diego and Victoria loved each other.

Initially, that strange fact very much puzzled the young Escalante. At least until he realized that Don Diego's absence from the pueblo, as he headed for Santa Barbara, coincided with Zorro's temporary disappearance, the masked man having failed to help find a little orphaned boy despite him being lost for almost two days.

Not only had Zorro not come to the boy's rescue, though. As the Los Angelinos found out some days later, around that same time Diego was away, Zorro spent several days in Buenaventura, concocting a plan to bring a haciendado to justice for a crime against a tribe south of Santa Barbara.

It was then when the thought first crossed Ramon's mind that the caballero he had known since his childhood and the mysterious masked man who had appeared shortly after Diego's return from Madrid were, perhaps, two halves of the same man.

As that thought started taking root in his head, though, Ramon soon found plenty of proof to the contrary, as several people, Jessie, Mendoza, Don Alejandro, and even De Soto recounted having seen the two men together on occasion or having it on good authority that they were in different places at the same time, which seemed to indicate that Diego couldn't possibly be the man behind the mask.

Nevertheless, Ramon found it difficult to let go of his suspicions, especially after also putting together information supporting them.

For one, a thing that had always bothered him was that the caballero he had met upon his return to Los Angeles, after almost a decade of being away, was not the same person he had known as a child. In truth, Zorro was more like young Diego than the tall caballero.

Then, there were the stories about him: Victoria's frustration with his disappearing acts whenever trouble loomed; her, Don Alejandro's, and Mendoza's accounts about how he had duped an emissary to believe he was becoming an Indian at the same time Zorro convinced De Soto that he had a made-up illness, one Diego eventually cured; accounts of him behaving completely out of character at some point or another, risking his life to search an abandoned mine so that the lancers might remain safely outside, saving others during an attack on the pueblo, or riding to Victoria's rescue with a bleeding head injury.

Finally, there was Marisol. The girl had rushed into Diego's arms after over a month of hearing stories and descriptions about Zorro, certain that the caballero was the man she had been told about. Ramon had ignored her instincts when they had first arrived, putting her conclusions on the fact that she was but a toddler. Nevertheless, thinking back, he started to consider that, perhaps, the child could see things far clearer than anyone else there, him included.

With so many opposing facts and ideas running through his mind, though, the young Escalante soon realized he'd need someone to talk to about it all. Someone to assure him he wasn't crazy in thinking what he was thinking. Someone open to logical arguments.

The problem was that, having been away for so long, his current circle of friends and close acquaintances was mainly limited to the De la Vegas, the De Sotos, Mendoza and Pilar. True, he still knew some people he had befriended while growing up, but their relationship was hardly a close one after so many years apart.

Under such circumstances and after weighing all his options, he eventually realized that the only person he could trust on such an issue was, in fact, Jessie Kent. That conclusion he had reached not only because the doctor was bright and could steer him in the right direction, but mainly because, while she was De Soto's wife, she was also a true supporter of Zorro and Diego's faithful friend.

So, one morning, after noticing Jessie heading for her office where no patients awaited her, he left Pilar in charge of the bar, and made his way towards the medical office.

"May I?" He asked at entering.

"Of course! What can I do for you, Ramon?" Jessie asked with a smile at seeing him.

"It's a rather personal subject..."

"I am a doctor. I assure you, you have nothing to be ashamed of." She said, misunderstanding his intentions.

"No... It's not a medical issue." He replied.

"What then?"

"It's about Diego... There is something I need to talk to you about... Well, you're the only one I believe I can talk to..." He said lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Oh? What about Diego?" She asked.

"Jessie, you've known him for a while now... You're good friends… Do you think he might be... Zorro?"

The young woman stared at him for a few moments. "What? No! Impossible!" She said loudly. "I saw them together and know first-hand of at least two instances when they were in two different places at the same time..."

"He could have help... Felipe, for example. They are almost always together..." Ramon pointed out.

"One of those times Felipe was also certainly seen at the same time and place as Diego and Zorro... He was with Don Alejandro and the lancers, Diego was with Victoria, and Zorro was trying to save a young woman and getting himself shot in the process. He came here to ask for medical attention about an hour later, while Diego was with your sister, and Felipe had returned to the hacienda." She replied.

"There might be more than one person helping him or who might have put on the mask temporarily... But I really suspect he might be him… Don't you want to know the truth about Zorro?"

"Ramon, do you even hear what you're saying?" Jessie chided, suddenly upset. "You shouldn't be talking to me about this! I, for one, don't care who Zorro is, and I am pretty sure I should not find out... I could have, a few months back, but I refused. It would only endanger him, whoever he is, and there's nothing to be gained from such knowledge!" She told him, folding her arms across her chest. "Besides, he just can't be Diego!"

Ramon, seeing he had made a wrong choice, just stammered, rather embarrassed. "I was just hoping... But you're right. There's nothing to be gained from knowing..." He agreed just for her sake.

Nodding his goodbye, head bowed and shoulders slumped, Ramon soon exited the medical office, returning to the tavern.

Jessie remained pensive after he left. She, too, had, on occasion, asked herself if there was a chance that Diego was, in fact, Zorro. She, too, had, at times, suspected him because of something he had said or done, or because his behavior seemed completely out of character. But, every time, she had dismissed the thought, certain it was best not knowing because what she told Ramon was true. Nothing good could come out of it, especially given the fact that she knew very well that she talked in her sleep. Now, though, she was wondering if she refused the idea because it was absurd or simply because she was afraid that it might be true, that her best friend could, indeed, be the man risking his life to protect the people of Los Angeles; the one her husband considered his worst enemy.

ZZZ

About an hour later, an exasperated Jessie entered the tavern, heading straight for Ramon. "Now I can't stop wondering, and I blame you!" She told him.

"So… You will help me?"

"Darn it... Yes! I'll just need to consider my future sleeping arrangements…" She answered, slightly puzzling the younger man who didn't know enough about her to understand the reason behind that line of reasoning. "Meet me at my office in exactly one-and-a-half hours. Nobody is usually there during lunchtime, and we can talk."

Ramon nodded his agreement and she stormed out just as she had entered.

ZZZ

"Alright..." Jessie said as she invited Ramon to the back room she normally used for the patients in need of medical supervision. The young man followed her, then watched as she closed the blinders, the windows, the drapes, then brought a lamp, putting it on her desk so that they might see each other in the otherwise dark room. "Sit!" She ordered and he sat on the only free chair there, Jessie having already taken the other one.

"Do you really think all these precautions are necessary?" He asked.

"Yes... And we should also use code. Never mention Zorro, for example. Instead, we could call him… Antonia. That way nobody would suspect. And Diego we should call... Armando!"

"Why? I mean, why call Zorro Antonia? He's a man."

"Yes, but I have a friend called Antonia who is actually a detective calling herself The Hound, though everyone thinks her partner, Armando... It doesn't matter. It makes sense, trust me! Besides, nobody will even guess who we are talking about if we call him Antonia."

"Alright... If that's what you think is best..."

"So... I was thinking we should start by making a list of all the instances Antonia and Armando were seen together."

"Shouldn't we also use different names for Felipe and Don Alejandro? They might be in on it."

"Well... Yes... Yes... Let's say… Felicia for Felipe, because it starts with an F, and Alejandra for Don Alejandro because, otherwise, we'd start getting confused. Oh... And perhaps we should also call Victoria... Vanessa, Ignacio... Isidro, and Mendoza we should call Mateo..."

"Why not Juan? His name is Jaime..."

"Yes, but everyone calls him Mendoza!"

"Mateo it is, then..."

"So... this list, perhaps it should be a table…" Jessie said. "In column one, we put where Zo... Antonia was seen at one point or another, and anything else of notice. In column two, we write where Armando was at the same time, and in column three, we write who might have helped him if Armando and Antonia were one and the same, or whatever else we can find worth mentioning..."

"That seems rather complicated..."

"It's easy, actually... For example, regarding what I mentioned earlier... So... A few months back, Diego was hit on the head but he still rode to help Victoria when a very bad man took her hostage. I'm sure you've already been recounted everything about that affair..."

Ramon nodded.

"Zorro also rode to save your sister and was injured, for which reason he came to me for help. Thus, in the first column we put "shot to the waist when riding to rescue Vanessa", in the second one we write "wounded to the head; seen rescuing Vanessa when Antonia was shot," then, in the third column, we mention that "Felicia was riding with Alejandra" and "when coming to the medical office seeking help, Antonia had a scar similar to that of my cousin, who was staying with Armando and Alejandra at the time."

"Who?"

"My cousin, who coincidently happens to be a good friend of Armando's. I think he could have been Antonia on that particular night if Armando is Antonia and he found out about it. His beard and mustache were shaven by the following morning and, when he left California, I squeezed him a little too tight when taking my goodbye and he did seem injured..."

"I'm sorry, but I am completely lost..." Ramon uttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Never mind!" She said impatiently. "The point is that neither Arman… Oh, forget it! Neither Diego, nor Felipe or even Don Alejandro could have ridden as Zorro that night, but my cousin, D'Artagnan, could have, seeing how I noticed that the Zorro that came to me had a scar very similar to one of his, and he did seem injured when leaving Los Angeles."

"Oh… So Diego could be Zorro…"

"Perhaps… But there's really no way of being sure just from what we know about that incident." She admitted.

"How about that time you were all taken prisoners and Zorro managed to free you after Diego came up with a plan to save everyone?"

"The Ynez Risendo incident? Right… Well… Zorro came into the cottage that time, and Diego asked him for water, so he cut his ropes and they both headed outside because he was parched. Diego, I mean."

"Just him? Was he the only one tied up?"

"No. We all were. But Diego was extremely thirsty… although… Although we had been forced to drink some strange liquid just about an hour earlier…"

"And that didn't seem suspicious to anyone?" Ramon muttered.

"It was rather strange… particularly because I remember Zorro didn't say a word until after they exited, and didn't come back inside."

"And that was the only thing that was strange?"

"Ah… let me think… Actually, I do remember thinking that Zorro wasn't as tall as I had previously believed him to be…"

"So… shorter and speechless… Felipe?"

"No… I did hear Zorro speak once they went outside…Unless… Unless it was Diego speaking for both of them, making us believe it was a dialogue when, in reality, it was just a monologue!" Jessie said with some enthusiasm at coming up with that explanation.

Ramon nodded.

"Still… that doesn't explain the memory loss incident…" She continued.

"What?"

"A few days after my cousin left California, I found Zorro in a field with no memory of who he was. So I decided to take him to the De la Vegas. I left him and Tornado in the hills behind the hacienda so that I might warn Don Alejandro but, by the time we returned to where I had left him, he was gone…"

"Tornado might have simply gone home with him… Surely, he knows the way…"

"True… But, then, Diego was alright. He hadn't lost his memory… He was sleeping in his room when I got there, trying to make up for the sleep he had lost the previous night when he had stayed awake to keep vigil on some injured lancers."

"You also said Diego was hit on the head a few days earlier. Wouldn't that explain why Zorro would simply lose his memory? And, did you see him sleeping when you went to the hacienda?"

"No… I mean, yes, the hit could have ended up affecting his memory, although it should have happened sooner. As for seeing him, I didn't want to disturb him before getting Zorro into the house, which didn't happen… But Victoria also went to the hacienda that afternoon and she mentioned having taken care of him as he was feeling a little under the weather. She said nothing about him losing his memory, though."

"Perhaps I should talk to my sister and find out if there's more to that story. In the meantime, you should work on that list…" Ramon suggested.

"Alright. I will also write down for you the names we agreed to use so that you might learn them. If we are to do this, we must make sure nobody suspects anything!" She told Ramon.