Happy Sunday, all! So, when I first came up with the idea for this fic, I hadn't really planned for this much drama. But as you can see, it evolved over time and each chapter I've written had been so much fun. I'm glad to see you all are having just as much fun as me.

Now I'm going to give a bit of a warning for this chapter for some gruesomeness and also for language. I did try to balance it out with some humor and I just hope you enjoy.

Linny

Chapter Thirty

A few days later, Ramon sat at his desk, his thoughts muddied and confusing. He sat there, writing them down as he tried to make sense of things. Zorro had given him a great deal to think about. He believed that Lieutenant Allende had been behind not only the plot against Olivia but the man who had ordered Gilberto to take a shot at him.

He didn't want to believe it, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Before he'd met the man, he'd heard he was a harsh soldier who'd always demanded results among his men. But, only harsh enough that his men still respected him; not feared him.

His first week, he'd received complaints from the lancers about his treatment of them. Ramon had only brushed them off, believing they'd just gone soft after having no commanding officer for so long. Now, he wasn't so certain.

The Lieutenant had been more than harsh on a few of the men. Reyes and Garcia, especially. But, they hadn't been the only ones.

The more he thought on it, the more the pieces just didn't fit together. He glanced down at his writings and they looked just as confusing as when the thoughts had been in his head.

For certain, they all had a common factor. Lieutenant Allende. But, was he an impostor? If he was, then who was he? And what had happened to the real Lieutenant?

There were still far too many questions that he didn't have answers to. It wasn't as if he could go up to him and ask if he was an impostor. No, he needed cold, hard facts but they just didn't exist. His speculations wouldn't be enough.

As much as it pained him, he would have to put those thoughts aside for the time being. But, he would take Zorro's words to heart and he would watch his back.

Setting down his quill, he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. Two figures coming into the yard caught his attention as he saw them walking their horses to the stable. He frowned. Garcia and Reyes were already riding back from visiting the de la Vega hacienda. He could swear they had just been leaving when he'd sat down to think. How long had it taken him to sort out his thoughts?

Never mind, he told himself. It wasn't important anyway.

Getting up from his chair, he marched over to the door. Pulling it open, he didn't bother stepping outside.

"Garcia!" he called out.

Both soldiers turned to him in confusion.

"Sí, mi Comandante?"

He waved them over. "My office. Both of you."

The two shared a glance that looked like they thought they were in trouble. Hopefully, whoever else had heard him summon them believed the same. The tension in the cuartel was already palpable. He hated to think what it would be like if they all thought these two were being granted favor. It wouldn't be good for any of them.

But, Garcia and Reyes were the only two he could trust at this moment, so they were the ones he could rely on to carry out his orders.

"Sí, Comandante."

Ramon didn't wait at the door for them. Instead, he settled himself on the corner of his desk and folded his hands in his lap. Zorro had given him an idea of how to get the men in his jail to talk. It was a tactic he didn't like, but one that he knew he had to use. Instilling that fear in his prisoners might be the only way for him to discover the truth about what was going on in his district.

The two trudged in with solemn expressions on their faces. It almost made Ramon want to laugh at their downtrodden expressions.

"You wished to see us, Comandante?"

"Close the door, please," he instructed. He made certain not to show any sort of emotion that might give away his intentions in case someone might be listening at the door. "In fact, close the curtains as well."

Reyes did as he requested since he'd come in second. Both continued to stand there, prepared to take whatever punishment was coming their way.

"At ease," Ramon tried to soothe their worried minds. "I hope all is well with Don Diego and his father?"

Garcia seemed to catch on the quickest. "Sí. Don Alejandro and Señorita Walker were playing a game of draughts before we arrived and Don Alejandro was becoming so angry that he was losing." He laughed in his familiar boisterous laugh, but it quickly faded when he realized that the Capitán hadn't asked about it.

Ramon hadn't, yet he was pleased to hear it. That meant Olivia was still safe, despite her location now being known to others. He had questioned the two of them the day after Zorro had explained to him that others knew that she was a guest of the de la Vega hacienda and he believed them when they had told him that neither of them had spoken a word. That only left one final factor; Lieutenant Allende had been the one to give her away.

He cursed to himself as his thoughts wandered to that subject again. Later. He would worry about that later.

"I'm glad to hear that everyone seems to be getting along. Now, I have a request for the two of you."

"Sí, Comandante?" Garcia chose to do most of the talking, which was good. While Reyes was loyal, he was as dim as an expiring candle.

"Had the man that was found the other day been buried yet?"

"No, Capitán," the Sergeant responded, though he paled at the mere memory of the body. "Dr. Avila hasn't yet been able to come to sign the death certificate."

"Good. I need the two of you to assist me in a task. Bring the prisoners to the body one at a time. I will be there, waiting to ask them questions."

"But, Comandante..." Reyes finally piped up, but he never finished his protest. There was a tinge of green rising to the surface of his cheeks.

Ramon made a soothing motion with his hands to ease the soldiers' worries. "Gentlemen, whatever I say next must remain between us andwithin these walls." He looked at each of them in turn, his stare stern so that there was no mistaking of his words. "There is a possibility that there is a traitor among us. Those men in our cells may have information about it."

"I don't understand, Comandante," Garcia frowned in confusion. "How could one of our prisoners be a traitor?"

Ramon shut his eyes and shook his head. "I mean that they may know who the traitor is. And also who hired them to take Señorita Walker hostage."

At the mention of the woman, both men stood at attention. They clearly held her in high regard. "Whatever you need, Capitán."

"Good. Try not to be too obvious about it, either. I don't want to draw too much attention."

Both lancers saluted in response. "Sí, Comandante."

The room was cold and dim. A single lantern hung on the wall, giving the four walls an eerie orange glow. The form laying on the table cast its shadow all around and adding to the morbid atmosphere of this situation.

A man in chains stood at the table, his attention focused on the cold, lifeless body that lay there. The corpse still wore its clothes—a well-worn jacket and dust-covered pants—but a shroud was covering what was left of the man's face.

Ramon stood in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he casually leaned against thewall behind him. He'd hung his jacket up beside the lantern and had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. It had been a long day and still, none of the prisoners had opened their mouths. He was beginning to lose hope that this plan would work.

However, there was still one man yet to be brought in. He hadn't said a word as the Sergeant led him inside, making certain that the chains on his wrists and ankles were secure before he stepped back outside and shut the door behind him.

Ramon took in the sight of this final man. He sported a nose that was distorted and purple. It had recently been broken. His wrist had also been wrapped up.

"That must have been a brutal fight," he motioned to the bandages.

The prisoner smirked in response. "You should have seen the other man."

He had seen the other man and Zorro hadn't carried a scratch from their battle. It was clear who had come out the winner. "I can only imagine."

The prisoner glanced back down at the body and laughed. "I know what you want. I won't answer any of your questions."

"The man who hired you is lying dead in front of you, señor. That doesn't concern you in the slightest? I know if I was in your place, I would be very afraid."

"Of what? He only paid me. I had no loyalty to him." He shrugged his shoulders, but they could barely lift because of the heavy irons he sported.

"But, what of the man that hired him? The one who also, most likely, pulled the trigger. What loyalty do you have to him?"

"His money was just as good as anyone else's. That is all."

"So, what is going to stop this same fate from happening to you?"

The prisoner swallowed thickly as the flash of fear passed over his features. Ramon hadn't even shown him what was underneath the shroud and it looked like it wouldn't get to that point this time. He could see the man's resolve beginning to crumble.

"I can help you. As of now, you are facing the noose. But, I can save you from it. Tell me everything you know and I will make certain that you avoid the gallows." Although that would also mean that he would be spending the rest of his life rotting in a cell.

The prisoner never turned his gaze toward him again. It remained on the body as he allowed the Comandante's words to sink in. Ramon could see the sweat forming on his brow. "Very well, I will tell you what I know."

He allowed the smirk of triumph to curl at his lips before he began his questions. "What is the name of the man that hired Borromeo to kidnap the señorita?"

"El Camaleón."

Ramon frowned. "What?"

"His name is El Camaleón. At least, that was what Borromeo called him."

That wasn't good enough of an answer, Ramon cursed to himself. "What is his real name?"

The prisoner shook his head. "I don't know. I never heard his real name."

"Did you ever see his face?"

"No. But Borromeo said that he was acting on behalf of El Camaleón when he hired us."

So, Borromeo had hired these men, but he had also been hired by someone else. It was at least more information than he'd had a few hours ago. It might not be much, but at least he'd received an alias; El Camaleón—the Chameleon. That would have to be enough for now.

"Garcia!"

Both the Sergeant and Corporal Reyes were posted outside while he'd been holding his interrogations with strict instructions that he not be disturbed. And as much as this tactic had turned each of their stomach, they had remained on guard throughout it all.

The door opened and the Sergeant peered inside. He looked directly at Ramon, careful not the catch sight of the man laying on the table. "Sí, Comandante?"

"You may return the prisoner to the cells, now." Ramon settled his sleeves back in place and reached for his jacket. "In fact, give him one of his own." He had the feeling that putting him back in a cell with the others would be like feeding him to the wolves.

"Si, Comandante." Garcia took hold of the prisoner, but didn't immediately take him. "A man is waiting to speak to you in your office, Capitán."

"Oh? Did he say what it was about?"

"No, sir. But, he did mention that he was with the Marshal Service."

Ramon was intrigued. "Has he been waiting long?"

"Only a few moments."

"Good. Once the prisoner is safely put away, bring refreshments."

"Sí, Capitán."

Ramon pulled on his jacket as he crossed over the yard toward his office. His fastened the buttons and smoothed out any wrinkles before opening the door. A man waited for him there, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Forgive my tardiness, I was handling a very delicate matter and was unaware that you had arrived." He stood in front of the man, ready to greet him. "I am Capitán Julio Ramon Estevez, of His Majesty's Royal Army, at your service."

The Marshal stood from the chair, rising to his full height. He was well over six-foot with dark hair that had been cut short along the sides, but the top remained on the longer side with the hint of a wave to it. He was at least in his early thirties and had the most familiar-looking eyes.

"Comandante," he began as he presented his papers to him, but the star-shaped badge he wore on his chests was enough to identify him as a Marshal. "I am Deputy Marshal William Walker."

Walker? That explained why his eyes had looked so familiar. Ramon chuckled in response. "Oh, yes. I believe I know your scout." He motioned that he could return to his seat and Ramon settled down on the edge of his desk.

The other man made a sound of disapproval as he returned to his chair, but didn't elaborate. "She mentioned you in her letters." He didn't say any more about it, but Ramon was curious. What exactly had been written about him?

"Are the Marshals so desperate for men that they've begun recruiting women, now?"

Deputy Walker rolled his eyes in response. "The fact that you have met my sister should be enough for you to know that I have very little say in what she does."

Ramon couldn't argue with that. She was a stubborn woman to her core. "Indeed. Does she know that you've arrived in town?"

"Not as of yet. I'd inquired about her at the inn, but they told me that she was no longer in residence there, per your orders." His visitor was studying him as if he was trying to determine whether he was friend or foe.

Ramon spoke quickly to ease his worries. "After the incident, we thought it would be best if she were moved to a different location."

Marshal Walker frowned in confusion at his statement. "Incident? What incident?"

There was a knock at the door and Corporal Reyes poked his head inside. "I've brought your refreshments, Comandante."

Ramon was fully aware of the other man's cool gaze as their conversation was interrupted. Still, he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. "Please, put them on the desk, Corporal."

"Captain," his guest continued as if they hadn't just been intruded on. "if something has happened to Olivia, I have the right to know."

"I figured she would have told you what had happened, but I assure you, she is perfectly safe at the moment."

"So, she hasn't been injured, then?"

"No, she is unharmed."

"She only got kidnapped," Corporal Reyes said without thinking.

"Out Corporal," Ramon howled at him in frustration. He angrily pointed toward the door. "And make certain that we aren't disturbed."

"Sí, Comandante." Reyes quickly shuffled to the door and hurriedly shut it behind him.

"Kidnapped?! By God, that woman will be the death of me." He leaned forward in his chair and buried his face in his hands. With a groan of exasperation, he scrubbed at his features with two sets of rough fingers.

Ramon quickly explained. "As I said: she is safe. She is currently staying at the hacienda of one of Los Angeles' most prominent and trustworthy families. They've taken her in to protect her. We can ride out together to visit her if you would like."

The Marshal nodded his thanks as the initial shock of the news faded from his features. "I would appreciate that, señor, but as long as she is safe, then it can wait until our business is concluded. There is a matter of great importance that I wish to discuss with you."

Relieved that Deputy Walker was not about to attack him or anyone else in his garrison because of his sister, Ramon calmed himself. "Then, what has brought you to my garrison?"

"I wanted to meet with you about a warrant that I have been charge with upholding for a man who is believed to have come to Los Angeles. A few months ago, an attempt was made on the life of President Monroe and our evidence has led us here for the man who orchestrated it."

"Who is this man you are searching for? I'll admit that I am new to this pueblo, but I will help you in any way that I can."

"We knew him as James Duncan, but it turns out that it was just as alias."

Ramon knew this, of course. When he and Olivia had had their first meeting, she had told him about this same man. "I am aware, but I don't know how much we can help you."

"He did have another name. They also called him The Chameleon." Deputy Walker reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and produced a folded up piece of paper which he immediately passed over to Ramon.

Well, this was certainly turning out to be a very interesting afternoon. His attention had already been caught at the mention of The Chameleon, but it increased tenfold as he unfolded the paper and was met with the drawing of the man inside. He soaked in the sight of the image as conviction—as cold as steel—settled in his spine.

His eyes shot up to meet those of Deputy Walker. "Tell me everything."

"Move aside, Corporal," Allende ordered as he approached the Comandante's office. After his conversation with the señora the other night, he'd come up with a plan. He would get rid of Estevez first, by drawing him out and dealing the blow himself. Then he would be able to move on to his next step. Ridding himself of the utter nuisance of Olivia Walker and the entire de la Vega household.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but the Capitán gave me orders that he is not to be disturbed."

He peered around the dimwit's form and tried to see inside the office. The curtains were blocking whatever view he might have seen. Usually they would be drawn so Estevez could keep an eye on things while he was in his office. It was very unusual to find the curtains closed. "Oh, and just what is our saintly Captain up to?" he questioned as pushed passed the idiot and began to walk up the steps.

"He is speaking with a man from the Marshal Service."

"What?!" His heart shattered in his chest at the moron's words. He stumbled back on his heels, almost making himself fall.

"Lieutenant? Is everything alright?" Reyes took a step toward to him to help keep him steady on his feet, but Allende pulled away from him in disgust.

No. Everything was wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen. The Marshals were not supposed to find him here. He had made certain to hide his trail; he'd even spent a month in Spain where he had befriended the original Allende so he would be able to take his place.

So, just how had they discovered that he would come to Los Angeles?

He didn't know, but it brought many other things into perspective. It explained why that bitch, Olivia Walker, had come here as well. It hadn't been coincidence at all. She was here for a purpose. If only Borromeo had succeeded in disposing of her.

Well, now at least he had all the more reason to do it himself. It was something he was greatly looking forward to.

He realized that the idiot Corporal was still staring at him with concern which made him quickly compose himself. He straightened his uniform jacket with a huff and ran a hand through his hair. "None of your business, idiota." He quickly stormed off. He had to get away. He couldn't be seen in the cuartel.

There was no telling if it was just one man from the Marshal service. They usually did like to travel in packs, which made them very dangerous. He would need to proceed with caution until he was certain his plan could be put into motion.

Hurrying to his horse, he tugged the lead line free from where it was tied and climbed up into the saddle. There was only one place he could go until he could fully put his plan into motion. He would return to the old farmhouse. He would hide out there until the men were gathered and Los Angeles would be theirs for the taking.

"Gitup!" he dug his heels into the flanks of the animal which bolted out through the cuartel gates and was halfway out of the plaza in the blink of an eye.