A Leap Of Something At Least

"Don't say anything and act petulant," John said suddenly under his breath.

"What? Why shou-"

"Just do it," John interrupted, still whispering.

Javier wanted to argue on principle but his curiosity outweighed his annoyance. There was also the fact that they were now close enough for the two men in suits to notice anything, soft spoken or otherwise. How they could stand wearing a full suit in this heat Javier didn't know and didn't care, he figured this should be uncomfortable for everyone involved.

John got off the horse and Javier followed, more like manhandled, shortly after. Javier put up a token resistance though he did enjoy trying to step on John's toes while being pushed towards the two suits.

"Mr. Marston, fancy seeing you down here," spoke the shorter and pudgier of the two agents with a hint of smugness. He was leaning casually against the automobile. "I must say it's a pleasant surprise to see you."

"You've done well Mr. Marston, now Javier here gets to see how far the hand of Justice can reach," intoned the taller one. He stood back ram rod straight with a disciplined disposition.

Javier hated them both immediately.

"Hopefully we can assume one of my commitments is cleared?" John asked, hands still death gripped onto Javier's bindings and shoulder.

"Unfortunately, nothing is cleared John, not until your obligations are met. Now get this criminal into the automobile," the taller one motioned towards the backseat while opening the door. The Fat One, Javier named him mentally, moved to the passenger side.

"Javier come! Move! There!" John pointed to the seat with his free hand, speaking slowly and clearly as if commanding a dog.

Javier felt his collar rise. Bad enough to be captured and killed but to be treated as a dumb animal pushed his patience passed his limits. Just as he was about open his mouth and let John know what he thought about him, his family, and his God damn farm he met John's eyes. There was no condescension but an almost questioning look hidden there. Javier felt as if he had been here before, in a situation like this a long time ago. But that couldn't be true. If it was then that meant John was risking everything trying to pull a con over the men who had his family held hostage.

Specifically, 'The Dumb Mexican' con.

Javier decided to spit on the ground in front of John as he slowly made his way over as The Stick, Javier was not the most creative under pressure, grabbed for him and shoved him hard into the seat, tying him to it. Javier's mind was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what John's game was when The Fat One spoke up.

"So, he really doesn't speak the language of the civilized then?" his royal chubbiness asked. Javier needed to work on that one.

"Some sure, mostly shoot that, eat this, and hide there. Once upon a time we tried to teach him to hold a conversation but it didn't take. From what I can tell he can barely speak to his own people let alone talk in a respectable way," John said with a small laugh in his voice.

'The Dumb Mexican' was a con that Bill and Javier came up with back in the day. Who came up with the name is almost a rhetorical question. They both noticed how folk would speak to Javier when they didn't know him, sometimes even when they knew he could understand them. Javier had seen the reverse with gringos in his homeland. Turns out when people thought you didn't speak their language or you look like you didn't most would put you mentally on the same level as animals or small children.

Many a time Javier was able to hear things people wouldn't say around strangers or without 'encouragement' just because they thought he was slow. Who in their right mind would care that the sheep in the corral would hear about where they hid their precious jewels? That was probably the best score he ever pulled in, all the while pretending to be "the foreign farmhand".

But why was John trying to play the con man now? He had everything to lose and nothing to gain, especially if Javier decided to rat him out or let something slip. Javier looked towards John, hoping to gain some kind of insight. When the suits weren't looking John gave the slightest of nods, and it became clear to Javier.

John was giving him a chance.

Most who knew who Javier was AND that he was bilingual in America were either dead, outlaws, or some combination. Anyone else would most likely have no reason to bring it up and no one would be asking. It was perfectly reasonable to assume Javier didn't speak English just like the agents did since most of his countrymen didn't care to learn. Javier was one of the few exceptions.

Which meant the agents might let something slip. Something that might help him escape, though if he escaped before John's family was safe then their lives would be forfeit or they just might send John after him again. John was putting his faith in Javier to keep his family alive. It was an admittedly small chance but it was the only one he had at this point.

The Stick then decided he needed to do some more ordering people around after finishing tying Javier down.

"We need you to find Williamson then head to Blackwater as quick as you can. We have reason to believe that Dutch van der Linde is in the area."

Bill's not going to surrender or let himself get captured, Javier thought.

"Oh, your wife sends her regards," The Fat One said with a disquieting laugh.

John face tightened along with his fists but said nothing, just nodding and turning away. The automobile roared to life as John got on his horse. Javier had a feeling that this would be the last time he and John saw each other regardless of what happened next. Well except until they meet in Hell but Javier didn't want to think about that right now. Their eyes met and Javier gave a nod which could be passed off as stretching if his captors bothered to look behind them.

John rode off back south. Bill wasn't one for calm discussion so this would end only with the death of another brother. Javier slumped in his seat, as much as he could with his hands still tied. He was just so tired, tired of death and plots and EVERYTHING. Maybe it would have been better if John had shot him in the heart instead of the shoulder when he had tried to get away. The bullet had been taken out and the wound was cleaned but still ached something fierce.

Well, Javier thought, nothing to do but keep up the con and try to survive. That's what he had been best at. He suddenly became aware of the suits chattering like housewives and the automobile had already started moving. It was disconcerting how smooth the drive was, like a train without tracks. Time to see what he could pick up from his unsuspecting babysitters.