Inez Recillos watched the man before her. She watched closely for a chance to do something to change the situation and take the upper hand from this man. She tried to will Chris Larabee or Vin Tanner to come through the door, but it wasn't to be.
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"Hey, Clay, man, I didn't know you were in town." Bannister tried to sound light.
"Put the gun down, Blake." The refined gunfighter said, and it was almost a suggestion. The other man complied like a rat hypnotized by a rattlesnake as it moved in for the kill. He simply tossed the gun on the bed.
Everything Josiah had said fell into place. JD had never completely understood how the man now before him had torn at Buck and convinced him to leave his home in Four Corners. He didn't understand how this man had been able to convince the usually pragmatic and look-out-for-number-one gambler to let himself be dragged into a makeshift prisoner of war camp. But if anyone could and would use words to tear apart their family, individually and together, it was this man.
Ezra and Buck had brought down his plundering campaign. Kestrel had failed.
Buck and Chris had defied his attempts to rip apart their friendship. Failed.
He hadn't been able to convince Josiah and Nathan he would be as good a leader for the regulators in the town as Larabee was. JD couldn't help but smile at the man. Failure. Loser.
Clay Kestrel hadn't been able to take down these men JD admired so.
And, now to see he was behind the verbal and emotional attacks that tried to tear the Seven apart. He hadn't been able to destroy them. Clay Kestrel failed. But here he was, acting as if he hadn't failed; that he still had a play to make.
JD Dunne wanted this man dead, as badly, he suspected, as Chris Larabee had ever wanted anyone to die. And he wanted Bannister dead because he was weak enough to follow this Comanchero and had hurt his friends.
Kestrel must have read it all in the young man's eyes. He laughed out loud and offered the gun he held, butt first, to the youngest regulator, "You want to kill him?"
JD couldn't believe he was being offered that gun and that opportunity.
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Vin and Chris walked out of the bathhouse. The men they were looking for were not in the saloon, the bathhouse or their hotel rooms. This time Tanner had the inscrutable look on his face. The leader was troubled. He didn't know where these men were and he was beginning to regret letting their youngest out of his sight. He strode toward the livery deciding to make sure the boy's horse was gone and he'd made it out of town.
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Bannister looked up quickly when Kestrel offered the little runt the chance to gun him down. But didn't dare go for his gun on the bed. What was the Boss up to?
JD's thoughts were jumbled. Should he gun the man down? Isn't that what Chris would do? Isn't that what he, himself, wanted to do? Was Kestrel really offering him the gun? What was behind that? The man always had an angle; a good, well thought out, devious angle. Could he turn the gun on Kestrel?
"C'mon, Clay, we did everything you asked." Bannister bartered.
"If you did as I asked, this whelp would be dead in the desert and Wilmington would have died knowing that failure."
"We left Wilmington and the gambler."
"I know how those two behave together!" Kestrel went from calm to manic. "I needed Standish here to keep Larabee too angry to think straight! I needed... but it was too simple wasn't it? So obvious you couldn't get it!"
"Please, Clay, we didn't realize it mattered which…"
"Don't lie to me!"
Bannister shrank back.
JD was fascinated by the insanity he saw in the man who held the upper hand. And it scared him how very much it reminded him of the look he had seen before in Chris Larabee's eyes.
Suddenly Buck and Chris's nemesis turned pleasantly to JD, "So, pup, you want to do him?"
JD didn't know how to answer.
"Of course, he has it planned that the first gunshot that comes from this room is the signal for his pack to ambush your friends."
JD's eyes went wide at this information. He looked quickly at Bannister and saw from his expression the statement was true. The outlaw tried to mask his features, but not before JD saw it.
JD turned back to Kestrel. What could he do to save his friends?
This gunfighter, who Buck considered a devil who walked as a man smiled at JD. "I've decided I want you alive, pup. My plans have changed. You can kill him or I'll give you one minute to get into the street and warn your friends."
JD looked out the window. He couldn't see Chris or Vin, but oh God, Nathan and Josiah were pulling the wagon into the edge of town. He looked back and saw that Kestrel saw it too. "You've got 50 seconds." He was still holding his gun, butt first toward the young easterner.
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JD ran before he realized he'd made the decision. He ran out the door; ran from the questions of what he should or shouldn't do that screamed through his mind. He ran from Kestrel's laugh that mocked him down the stairs and ran despite the rustle of petticoats he subconsciously heard down the hall behind him or the disconcertingly familiar feminine laughter that blended all too well with the man's.
Thinking back on it, JD would always regret that he didn't remember the man guarding Inez, or think about being more cautious.
In his inexperience, all he could focus on was that he had mere seconds to warn his friends against men willing to shoot them down from ambush while they tried to get the injured to the clinic.
JD ran into the street.
The wind was up again. The sky was coated with a layer of dust and it was being stirred into tiny dust devils caught between the buildings. It even blew his bowler off as he ran down the street. "Josiah! Nathan!"
He ran toward the wagon. A strong fist wrapped around his upper arm. He spun, ready to fight back. He realized it was Chris. Vin, behind him, looked sympathetic, thinking the youngster was about to feel Larabee's wrath for disobeying him. Later, he would wish that was all that happened. "Son, I told you to ride..." Larabee started, with a fury in his voice.
"Kestrel. Clay Kestrel." JD was panting trying to get the information out and claw out of the gunfighter's grasp so he could warn the others. "He's in Ezra's room. They're gonna kill…"
The single gunshot rang out from behind him; from inside and upstairs in the bar. In the time it took to register on him, it also registered with others and bullets began to fly.
JD broke from Chris's grasp and ran toward the wagon. Josiah had pulled up on the horses' reins in response to the sudden gunfire. They were in front of the dry goods store.
Bullets and shrapnel bit into the sand at JD's feet as the gunmen failed to lead him enough to find a target.
More bullets bit into the heavy wood of the wagon as Josiah pulled it to a stop.
Nathan, riding Buck's horse, pulled the animal up violently and short, dove off and joined Josiah on the side of the wagon opposite of the incoming rounds.
Chris dove into the saloon. He too, missed the danger that faced Inez in his single-minded haste. He went after Kestrel oblivious to what the gunfire in the street meant regarding the safety of his friends. Vin followed him.
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The gunfire revived the dozing and weak Ezra and Buck. Reflexively they tried to rise and identify the threat and who was in danger. Josiah dived over the seat of the buckboard onto the men to keep them down.
The bullets were biting into the dirt in front of the wagon and the wooden sideboards. It seemed the wagon was just barely in range of the would-be assassins.
Nathan was off of Buck's horse in a bound. He, like Josiah, was laying down mostly cover fire. Any focus they might place on identifying their targets and getting a clear shot was being used to protect their injured friends and get them to safety.
Nathan, God help him if Buck found out, used Pal as partial cover. The lanky gunfighter might allow the sacrifice for the others, but would never use the horse to protect himself.
Josiah raised a prayer to several deities that had seemed to be receptive in the past, not the least of which, recently, was his own Christian God. And he gave thanks for what he saw as possible divine intervention. The upended saddles, originally meant to supply shade, were taking several hits and adding a measure of protection while they tried to get the others out of the wagon.
Even in the heat of the battle and the danger to himself and the others, or perhaps because of it, he realized he was thankful to be sensing this little bit of God's presence in his life again.
It had only been a heartbeat since JD's frantic warning and the gunfire that followed immediately. No one had time to look for the boy.
Nathan grabbed Ezra's legs and pulled until he could feel an arm. His vision was toward potential sources of the gunfire.
Josiah and even Buck were helping get the gambler out of the back of the wagon. Nathan threw the man's arm over his shoulder and was rewarded when his friend took a death grip on the back of his shirt to try and help hold himself up.
Between the gambler and his gun, the tenuous hold the healer had on Pal's reins was lost easily when a bullet clipped too closely to the big gelding's back hoof. Frightened, the usually calm and weapon-tested gray bolted for the remembered safety of the livery.
The yoked animals responded to the fear of the other and it caused a chain reaction.
The wagon was dragged wildly down the main street as well as the horses tied behind it. The sudden movement threw Josiah and Buck from the back and they landed in a vulnerable heap of arms and legs in the middle of the street.
Ezra and Nathan, not having made two steps in their retreat, were spun around by the tied horses and landed on the dusty ground beside the others. +7 + 7+7 +7 + 7+
Foster had seen the boy rush out of the bar. Something was wrong. As he raised the gun in JD's direction, Inez brought an amber whiskey bottle down painfully on his hand. He never even got a chance to pull the trigger.
Now, there had been too much gunfire. It had lasted too long. Oh, yeah, something had gone wrong. Bannister, in the gambler's room? Let him watch out for himself.
Foster grabbed Inez's hair and pulled until her face was close enough that his offensive breath made her flinch. He kept the grip wrapped in her hair and dragged her to the end of the bar where he could pull her close and head to the doors.
The locals had become spoiled to letting the regulators defend the town and take the risks.
Inside the bar, the trail drivers weren't sure what was going on or whose side to be on. Their response was to use the gun that wavered between aiming at them and the popular bartender as an excuse to do nothing. Foster dragged her out the back door.
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The eruption of gunfire had JD running down the middle of the street, as fast as he could, guns drawn, oblivious to any danger to himself as he saw, from one heartbeat to another and another, Josiah and Nathan try to get their friends to safety, the horses bolt and the men land on the open ground. He couldn't tell if anyone was caught by the hooves.
The would-be assassins were "walking" the bullets toward their target. Accuracy was questionable at this distance with revolvers, but with no one close enough to stop them, the men methodically shot, watched where the bullet hit, and shot again getting the range on their victims.
Suddenly young JD Dunne, both revolvers barking placed himself between the bullets and his friends.
With no obligation except to supply cover fire, and defend his friends, the boy aimed first one Colt and then the other at the attackers. His enthusiasm and ability quickly had the enemy scurrying for shelter.
Josiah grabbed Buck and Nathan reclaimed his grip on Ezra. They backed up until their heels touched the boardwalk, stepped up and dragged their charges into the dry goods store. Mrs. Potter had the door open and encouraged them in. JD was on their heels and they all collapsed against the wall to catch their breath and check for injuries.
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Barely missing Foster when he left with his hostage, Larabee slammed into their resident gambler's room. The door bounced off the wall in response.
The room was still. Not even a draft blew the curtains. All of the man's instincts told him the space was empty.
A gristled, trail-hardened cowboy lay spread eagle on the carpet. Blood drained, thanks to gravity, from a small caliber wound at the base of his neck. The heart was no longer pumping the life-giving fluid through that one's body.
Vin lowered his gun and glanced about the surroundings.
The soft, subtle, exotic, expensive whiff of a woman's perfume, as he entered, had Larabee's hackles up. It was familiar... Abruptly, the gunfire outside stopped. It hadn't been the noise, but now the lack of it, that left a sudden nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. There could be very few reasons for the shooting to stop, most of them unacceptable.
Suddenly the gunfighter realized, once again he had sacrificed the safety of others for bloodlust. He had forced his best friend to choose between covering his back and going to the aid of their other five friends. He had known Kestrel wouldn't hang around the room, and yet...in the still, heavy silence, he looked into those clear blue eyes and knew that Tanner realized the choice he had been forced to make as well.
The hint of emotions that were about to result from their actions was cut short when the gunshots began again. They both ran to do their part this time. Chris suspected he would rather face a shootout than his best friend's thoughts on the ramifications of what he had just done.
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"Ezra?" Nathan began.
"No new injuries."
"Buck?"
"I'm good. I'm good. What were you doing with Paladin?" His first thought was what he had seen Jacson using the dapple for cover."
"He's fine." Nathan said without really answering the question. "Ran straight to the livery."
Buck met the other man's eyes for a heartbeat. Finally, accepting the horse was safe now, no matter what went before, he sighed, "Damn, that's a hell of a way to get woke up."
"Buck ..." The youngest of the regulators studied the other closely, realizing in the last few days that much of his life and his heart reflected in this man, his big brother in all but blood.
"Hey, kid..." He had to catch his breath. He was weaker than he realized.
JD looked over to evaluate Ezra with the same eye as Nathan. The gambler winked encouragement to him.
The gunfire had diminished with the loss of any easy target. But they were still out there.
"Stay here." Josiah ordered as he and Nathan regained their feet and burst out the door to confront the enemy. JD was right behind them, but not fast enough to keep Buck from grabbing his left gun.
When their eyes met, nothing needed to be said. Buck needed a gun in his hand. JD handed over the weapon, unbuckled his gunbelt and handed it over as well. Mrs. Potter was already placing an extra box of ammunition on the glass countertop. The boy took the box.
"Boy, you use your head out there." Buck ordered. But he again saw the Chris Larabee determination take over his young friend as it did more and more in these situations.
"You two stay safe. We'll take care of this." JD DunnE said with resolve beyond his years and dodged out the door for the nearest cover.
The door was still open. Mrs. Potter was a bit in shock. This was a side of the boy she'd never seen before.
Ezra and Buck met each other's eyes. Buck raised an eyebrow at the gun he now held. They both slowly got to their feet.
The communication may have been silent, but it was apparent enough. The owner of the dry goods store had another handgun and box of ammunition on the counter for the gambler to pick up as he went by. He used the gun barrel to tip an imaginary hat at the woman. She smiled at them both with motherly affection and concern.
There was no doubt between them that they would take the back door to maneuver into the battle. Going up against the men shooting at them was one thing. But with matching smirks of acknowledgment, going up against Chris and the others once those friends realized they had joined in the fray, was something they would put off as long as possible.
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Foster pulled Inez to the mouth of the alley. Puffs of gunfire showed that at least two of his colleagues were still on the rooftops. But the men were falling back toward the livery, away from the almost certain targets nearer the wagon by the dry goods store.
Retreat.
They were running.
Foster headed toward the livery to be the first one there and let the others cover his retreat. He wrapped his left arm tightly around Inez's waist. He kept his back to the walls of the buildings as he passed. He kept the woman in front of him as a shield. He sidled toward the horses and escape.
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Chris and Vin split up.
Vin headed for the rooftops.