San Diego, 1820
A beautiful Sunday morning, shattered by gunfire. The doors of Mission San Miguel burst open. Two men ran into the street, brandishing pistols at the unfortunate passersby, sending them scattering for cover. One of the men laughed maniacally, pulling another pistol from his belt and firing it off into the crowd. The shot plowed through the window of the posada across the street. A woman inside screamed.
The two men made for the livery, knocking the stablemaster unconscious and stealing two mounts. Then, they rode on out of the city, fat purses on their belts and devastation behind them.
Los Angeles
Two days later
Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia finished adhering the Wanted poster to the doors of the cuartel and stepped back to admire his handiwork. The poster was crooked. Frowning, he reached for the corners to peel it off the heavy doors, but only succeeded in getting his hands full of tar, and tears in the corners.
He shook out his hands and stepped back. The comandante at San Diego had sent word the morning prior that two men had robbed a Sunday church service and disappeared into the countryside. A man was dead-the victim of the errant shot through the window of the inn. The charges were armed robbery and murder. As Los Angeles was the next largest pueblo north along El Camino Real, Capitan Toledano and his soldiers were on high alert. Extra lancers were in the plaza, providing an uneasy presence to the regular Los Angelenos who were simply trying to do their daily routine. The whole city was on edge.
Most of Southern California was on edge. That two men could so brazenly rob a church in broad daylight was shocking.
Don Diego de la Vega could feel the tension in the air as he and his manservant, Bernardo, tethered their horses to the hitching post near the inn. Even the air seemed still. "It is too quiet," he murmured to Bernardo. "Perhaps we should run our errands and return to the hacienda. I think Zorro should ride tonight. I do not like seeing our city like this."
Bernardo's eyes went wide, and he put a hand over his heart. Then, he shook his head.
Diego nodded. "Yes, fear is evident, and it hurts to see the people this way." There had been hope in the weeks prior as Capitan Toledano had begun implementing his systems as the new comandante of Los Angeles. Diego forced a smile, looking at someone over Bernardo's shoulder. "Sergeant Garcia! A lovely day, don't you think?"
Garcia sighed. "I do not know that I would call it lovely," he replied. He shook his head. "I do not like this at all. Those two banditos from San Diego have not been caught, and our patrols have seen no sign of them."
Diego nodded. "Yes, I had heard the news. Does the capitan know for certain they were coming this way?"
"I do not think he knows for certain," Garcia said. "But considering all the trouble the pueblo has had in the past year, it would not surprise me if they rode into town this very moment."
All three men paused as if speaking the scenario would bring it into existence. Luckily, the plaza remained eerily silent. "Well," Diego said, with a look at Bernardo, "we are in good hands with Capitan Toledano and you, Sergeant. If you'll excuse us, my father is expecting us back at the hacienda. "
"Of course," Garcia nodded. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Diego. And you, little one," he added to Bernardo, giving him a jaunty wave.
" Adios," Diego told him, plastering the fake, jovial smile on his face once more.
Bernardo also said goodbye with a wave and a bright smile. As the sergeant waddled away, the smile faded quickly. He mimed the sergeant's big belly and mimicked the same gesture from earlier. The sergeant is scared also.
"To be frank, that's the Sergeant's disposition most of the time on the job," Diego countered with a shake of his head. "But you're right. I could see it in his eyes." He glanced around. "Come."
He had hoped, with Capitan Monastario gone, that Los Angeles would have no need of Zorro. Toledano seemed a good man and a ready servant of the people–someone Zorro would not need to trifle with.
But, he thought silently, following Bernardo over to the blacksmith, it would seem the work is never done.
After paying the blacksmith for two sets of horseshoes–new ones for Tornado, the horse that Diego rode on his exploits as Zorro–Diego and Bernardo headed out of town, back toward the de la Vega hacienda. Diego's father had seemed so surprised that he wanted to go to town that Diego had made up an excuse about having ordered a new book that had arrived on the coach that day. The look in Alejandro de la Vega's eyes had been a mix of disappointment and frustration.
Diego hated that look. He couldn't very well have asked one of the vaqueros to pick up the shoes–for one, they were for Tornado, and two, he paid for them with his own money instead of out of the de la Vega account. After Monastario's defeat, Diego had wanted so badly to confess to his father he was Zorro. But he had no idea how his father would react. Sometimes, it seemed Alejandro believed in the work Zorro did in the shadows, and others, Diego wondered if Alejandro wouldn't call the lancers on Zorro himself. The 'new' book–really a slim novel from his own collection at home–weighed heavily in his saddlebag.
Perhaps it is not the banditos so much that have me on edge, Diego thought as they rode through the canyon. Perhaps it is the weight of my secret and my father's disapproval that weighs so heavily.
He glanced over at Bernardo, who was eyeing him quizzically. He upturned a few fingers off his saddlehorn as if to ask what was wrong. "I'm all right, my friend," Diego assured him. "Just thinking."
Bernardo seemed to accept that and returned his eyes forward to the road in front of them.
de la Vega Hacienda
Later that day
Diego and Bernardo came onto the property through the back pastures so Diego could drop the horseshoes for Tornado off in the caverns El Zorro used as his hideout. Diego let Tornado loose for a run and dinner. He wasn't worried about the horse, who was so well trained he would return at a whistle from his master. Then, it was a leisurely ride (at least, that's how it would look to any of the ranch hands) around to the stables, where the two of them returned their horses and made their way through the gates to the hacienda.
Don Alejandro de la Vega, an imposing, white-haired man of almost sixty, was seated at one of the small tables out on the patio, a glass of the de la Vega vintage on the table, enjoying the summer afternoon. He looked up at the creak of the gate, and motioned for Cresencia to bring a glass for Diego as his son and Bernardo came inside. "How was your ride into town?" Alejandro asked his son, knowing full well that Bernardo wouldn't answer, as he was unable to hear the question.
Diego produced the novel from his banda. "My prize weathered the transport from Santa Barbara very well," he enthused, tapping the cover. "Most impressive."
"Indeed," Alejandro said, with a shake of his head. "Any…news?"
Diego knew exactly what his father was fishing for. "Nothing we did not already know," he replied, trying to seem entirely uninterested in the fact that two murderous thieves might be hiding out in their pastures. "It seems the Capitan and his men have everything well in hand protecting the pueblo."
"That is good to hear," Alejandro replied. Cresencia returned with a second glass and Diego took it with a polite nod. "It is interesting that you claim they have things well in hand when two of the vaqueros informed me that the entire town seems to be in a vise."
Diego steeled his features into a look of neutrality. "There is no evidence suggesting those two men are coming here," he replied, echoing Garcia's earlier statement. "Perhaps it is an overabundance of caution." He did not mention the rest of Garcia's observations.
Alejandro shook his head. "The boy I sent to Spain to receive the highest education cannot tell the difference between fear and caution."
Diego wanted badly to tell him, Oh, but I do. And that is why Zorro will ride tonight, looking for the two men who are striking fear into the hearts of the people. Instead, he said, "I suppose it could seem that way, looking at it from your perspective." Over his father's shoulder, he caught Bernardo looking at him sympathetically, while pretending to trim the roses. Diego rose, taking his glass of wine in hand. "I think I shall retire to the sala," he said. "I'm anxious to begin reading. Con permiso. "
He walked into the living room and sat down at the table, shaking his head. And since there is truly nothing I can do until dark, he thought, I shall do precisely what I told my father I would. He flicked open the cover of a book he had read a million times and started reading.
Two men ushered their horses to a stop behind an outcrop of rock. "Look," the one hissed, pointing to an opening in the rocks. They tied their horses to some scraggly branches and entered the cavern. "It just keeps going," his compatriot whispered. "A perfect place to get out of the sun for a while."
They made their way further in…and their relief from the hot sun turned to disbelief as the tunnel continued…turned to wood, to a cellar…and brought them up just under the de la Vega hacienda.
Diego and his father shared supper that evening before his father retired to bed. Diego went to his room and worked at tuning his guitar until he was sure his father was asleep. He motioned to Bernardo to continue working at the strings. "I will be back presently," he told his friend. He moved to the fireplace and pressed the hidden spring that swung a secret door open in the wall next to it. The wall slid shut behind him. He lit a lamp and made his way down the hidden stairs. He did not know why their home had these secret passageways–Indian attacks, or smuggling, no one was sure–but he was thankful for them constantly. Diego hit the first floor and kept moving down. His Zorro disguise was in a locked trunk farther down the tunnels, closer to where Tornado was kept in case of inclement weather or the cattle being on that acreage of the land. Once he was clothed, he could whistle for Tornado-
A face filled his vision. A second later, his lantern went out, and his world went dark.
Author's Note: I always wondered what would happen if some lucky villain ever found the entrance to the de la Vega tunnels...these guys are the lucky ones :)