Back in San Antonio, it was raining. Eustace huddled under the umbrella his butler was holding, shivering and rubbing his hands together. The air was unseasonably cold, and mist suffused the street, turning distant buildings into hazy shadows. Eustace cursed Eddie for making him venture out of doors in this weather. The boy outlaw had insisted they meet outside the train station; he hadn't said why. And now, to top it all off, the little snot had the audacity to be late.
Eustace heard footsteps approaching. He ventured a glance to his left, but the brim of the umbrella obscured his view. All he could see were legs: one short pair, and two very, very tall.
"Well damn, Useless," came Eddie's voice. "I didn't think it was possible for you to get any uglier, but gosh golly darn it, it looks like I was wrong."
Eustace smacked his butler's arm, and Blix repositioned the umbrella. Eddie came into view, wearing another one of his unbuttoned shirts.
"At least I know how to tell time," snapped Eustace. "It's a quarter past two, Eddie. You were supposed to be here 15 minutes ago."
He was going to pile on more insults, but he took a good look at the men behind Eddie and thought better of it. The first was broad and muscular; he sported a unibrow, a spencer carbine, and more knives than Eustace cared to count. The second was lanky and unconscionably ugly, with blond hair and teeth that stuck out like slats in a crooked fence. They were both soaked to the bone, and neither seemed to care.
"These here are my associates," said the boy outlaw, motioning to the two goons. "To my left is Terry Finster. To my right is Abraham 'Muttface' Adler. They've been helping me drum up the necessary manpower for our little undertaking."
Muttface was picking his nose. Eustace couldn't contain himself.
"For the love of God, man, use a handkerchief."
"Ain't got one," replied Muttface, slime leaking from his nostrils.
Eustace closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he kept his gaze on Eddie. "Well then. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"I came to talk logistics. I know you've got the train fare covered, but I have other concerns. We're talkin' about stuffin' a bunch of heavily armed men into a railcar…that sorta thing's bound to attract attention. If we want our departure to go unnoticed, it's gonna take some doin'. There's bribes to be paid, favors to be called in, threats to be made. I want to make sure our asses are covered if this thing goes south."
"And we couldn't discuss this at the hotel because…?"
"Because Terry here is banned from the Menger. Ain't that right, Terry?"
"I pissed in their shrubbery," he grunted, by way of explanation.
"Of course you did." Eustace shook his head. "So, these preparations. How long are they going to take? Will we be ready to go by tonight? Tomorrow morning? When?"
"We leave when we leave, Useless. In the meantime, we might have another problem."
"And what sort of problem would that be?"
Eddie sighed. "I've been thinking. That broad you sent out after Neutron –"
"Tex?"
"Yeah, her. I don't think she was the right choice for this job. She may have a reputation for being the best, but if I'd've known the target was Jimmy, I never would've recommended a woman."
Eustace looked puzzled, so Eddie elaborated.
"Look. Speakin' in generalities, women make excellent covert killers. All they gotta do is bat their eyelashes and jiggle the goods, and men never suspect them until it's too late. But Jimmy? He won't fall for something like that. You know how he is when it comes to women – he only wants the ones he can't have. No way he'll be bested by some saddle-calloused tramp, not in a million years. He'll outplay her and survive."
"What makes you think she'll try to seduce him? I met Tex, and she wasn't exactly the 'temptress' type. Half the outlaws in the saloon were scared of her, and I don't blame them. I saw the gun she carried – you know, the famous one, with the green handle – what was it called again?"
"The Emerald Ire, sir?" supplied Blix.
"Yes, that's the one. The Emerald Ire. Point is, I care nothing for criminal exploits, but even I have heard talk of that weapon."
Eddie wore a self-satisfied expression. "Tex stole that revolver. Once upon a time it belonged to Seamus O'Healy, leader of the O'Healy gang. He and his brothers robbed a string of banks awhile back and popped off a few lawmen. Someone got a picture of him with his gun, and it was all over the papers – "the deadliest six shooter in all Texas", or some such nonsense. That's why you've heard of it. It was Seamus who gave that green-handled revolver its iconic reputation, not Tex. She took it from him after she murdered him in his sleep. She killed all seven of his brothers too, or so the story goes. You really think a teenaged girl could've eliminated a band of eight outlaws without playin' a little hanky-panky game to get them off their guard? Don't be a fool. Both you and I know women are only good for one thing, and it sure as hell ain't gunfighting."
Eustace wasn't convinced, but he didn't press the issue. "All right, for the sake of argument, let's say she does get to Retro Valley before us, and Jimmy does manage to outwit her. How is that a problem?"
"Because, Useless, he'll know someone is gunnin' for him. He'll be on the alert. The element of surprise is our most powerful weapon; I don't want to fight a man who knows he's a target."
The rail baron waved his hand dismissively. "We have nothing to worry about. Even if Jimmy knows that his life is in danger, he'll never expect anyone to launch a full-scale assault on the town. It's just not in his nature."
"Eh. I suppose. Still, I don't like unknown quantities. What if Tex is there, in Retro Valley, when we ride in and start shootin' up the place? We have no way of knowing how she'll react."
"I can tell you exactly how she'll react: she'll hightail it out of there as fast as her horse can carry her. There's no way she's going to risk her flea-bitten hide to save a bunch of strangers." He shivered harder. "Now, unless there's some pressing reason to remain out here in the street, may I suggest we continue this conversation inside? There's a diner up the road that serves passable coffee."
"You buyin'?"
Eustace rolled his yes. "Yes, I'm buying. Let's just get a move on."
And so these strange bedfellows walked off together, to discuss the logistics of murder and mayhem over a hot drink.
Woohoo! More minor character cameos. Props to those of you who recognized Terry Finster from Safety First and Retroville 9, and of course Abraham 'Muttface' Adler from that one scene in Trading Faces where Jimmy-in-Cindy's-body announces the list of boys who make "Cindy Vortex feel allll fuzzy inside".
HISTORICAL SHIT AND BULLSHIT SHIT
-There's not much to say this time around. There was a train station in San Antonio during the 1870s, but I'm not entirely sure when it was built. It might not have been completed until a year or two after this fanfic takes place, so I'm just gonna go ahead and claim artistic license on this one. After all, I invented two whole new railroad companies for this fic, so I might as well go for broke and change the timeline on Texas rail development as well. Yeah. Fight the power.