Chapter 2

"Felipe, ah, there you are." Don Alejandro beckoned the boy. "Have you seen Diego?"

Felipe's eyes briefly wandered to the fireplace, shaking his head.

"You're not suggesting he's still in bed. It's past eleven. Having a broken leg doesn't give him the right..." Don grumbled loudly.

Felipe grabbed Alejandro's arm and pointed towards the garden doors.

"You think he's in the garden? I just checked, and he wasn't there. Manuel said he hasn't seen Diego today, so he must be somewhere in the house."

Felipe gestured towards the wing where the bedrooms were.

"Alright, you go check his room, and I'll take another look in the garden."

Alejandro walked away, and once Felipe made sure don couldn't see him, he approached the fireplace and pulled a hidden lever. A panel slid open silently, and Felipe slipped inside.

In the cave, behind the large mahogany desk, Diego sat slouched in his chair. Felipe sighed with relief before trying to get Diego's attention.

Diego's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked worn out. Dark circles under his eyes, and his skin appeared pale.
"What is it, Felipe?"
Diego sighed wearily. He was tired and drained. He just hoped Zorro's help wasn't needed, as that was the last thing he wanted.
"My father is looking for me," Diego translated Felipe's gestures.
"Tell him that I..." He waved his hand dismissively. What did it matter? His father would believe everything Felipe provided, no matter how ridiculous. "It doesn't matter what you tell him. Just make something up."

A few weeks ago, a bull had escaped in the middle of the plaza. Diego had seen it happen, and everyone had scattered in panic while the raging bull blindly destroyed everything in its path. Without a second thought, he grabbed the first usable weapon he saw and, armed only with a broom, confronted the bull, in an attempt to distract the animal. In the process, he had broken his leg.
Secretly, he had hoped that Victoria and even his father would see him as someone who didn't run from danger every time. As it turned out, that had been in vain.

"Felipe, Diego," came a muffled voice from the other side of the wall. "Great. Now, I can't find either."
Alejandro looked around. There was no point in calling for Felipe; the boy was deaf. And Diego, once again, seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Alejandro had wanted to ask his son to accompany him to the pueblo for an excellent lunch at the tavern. Diego was always up for it, and how often did he get to meet a good friend for a chat? The life of a ranchero on the edge of civilization was tough. One had to savour the small pleasures in life. And today, a good conversation with his son, meeting some friends during a delightful lunch, was one of them, or so he had thought.
Disappointed, Alejandro walked to the front door. Even though Diego is untraceable, it doesn't stop him from carrying out the second part of his plan.

Alejandro saddled Dulcinea and rode leisurely towards Los Angeles. The pleasant spring sun made the days last a bit longer every day, but the sun wasn't yet intense enough to make hard work unbearable.

Upon entering Los Angeles, the don noticed that the plaza was quieter than usual. It almost seemed like the siesta had already begun. Just to be sure, the don checked the church clock and saw that it was a few minutes before noon. Usually, there would be people around this time, and almost all tables in the tavern were occupied.
This time, the porch was empty, and the green double door was closed.

Alejandro dismounted, tethered his horse to the designated rack, and climbed the two steps leading to the tavern's entrance. A note on the door read, 'Closed due to circumstances.'
He couldn't recall the tavern ever being unexpectedly closed before. An anxious feeling enveloped him. The only time he did remember was a day he had almost paid for with his life, thanks to Diego's ingenuity and sheer luck, more than seven years ago.
"Victoria." Alejandro pounded on the door. "Open up! Is everything okay? It's me, don Alejandro." He pounded again, harder this time. "Victoria!"

"It's no use, don Alejandro."

He turned around and saw Sergeant Mendoza.

"I've already tried. Señorita Escalante won't open, no matter what you do." The sergeant looked sorrowful.

"Meaning no one has seen her today?" Alejandro looked worriedly at the door, scenarios of what could be happening running through his mind.

"Only Pilar. She said Victoria had said there was nothing to worry about. Although she also said Victoria seemed a bit nervous."

"And that doesn't make you suspicious."
Concern for Victoria's well-being grew by the minute for don.

"Eeeeh," stammered Mendoza. "No. It's, of course, strange. The tavern is never just closed. But..."
Mendoza looked at don Alejandro and felt foolish under the intense gaze. He began to stutter. "But I think. I mean probably..."

"Mendoza, when was the last time the tavern stayed closed unexpectedly?"

Mendoza thought deeply, relieved when the correct answer came to him.
"That was when Señor Quintana had lured us into a trap and wanted to blow up the tavern. Don Diego saved us that day."

"Exactly."

"Don Alejandro, you don't think..." Mendoza pointed to the double door.

Alejandro nodded; that was exactly what he was thinking.

"Madre de Dios." Mendoza stammered, turning pale. "It can't be."

Alejandro's demeanour clearly expressed leadership. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Get a few of your men to break open the door. The others must come with me to the back. If there are truly bandits inside, they'll try to escape through the back door when they realize we're trying to force the front."

Mendoza was glad he only had to obey. He was better at that than giving orders himself. "Yes, that's a good idea."
As quickly as possible, Mendoza ran towards the barracks to fetch his men.

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