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Paco Valdez

BQ

Acting on instinct alone, you lunge at the little Mexican bastard and connect a mean left hook to his jaw. He squeals in a way not unlike a swine and reaches for a dagger on his belt. But before he can react to your assault, you throw him to the ground and relieve him of his pistol in one swift, fluid motion. Next, you yank him forcefully to his feet and move in to position behind him, the pistol pointed squarely at his head.

Claire backs away into a corner like a frightened animal, her eyes no longer reflecting triumph but instead revealing the primordial fear building within her. There's something else mirrored in her eyes as well - a look of regret and longing. You glare at her where she cowers in the corner. "Filthy lying whore!" you spit disdainfully. That's when Jose enters the room, his feet thudding heavily against the wooden planks of the floor. He looks at you and scowls. His massive barrel chest throbs in and out and his eyes narrows in rage. Scampering in behind comes the man who met you at the backdoor to the farmhouse, carrying his double-barreled shotgun.

Looks like you got yourself into another fine little mess here! Working your way into trouble is an annoying habit you're going to need to break. Jose begins stepping closer but you fire a warning shot into the air, then quickly point the cold barrel back against Jorge's oily head. Claire screams in terror and bolts out of the room before things escalate. "Don't even think about it, Jose," you warn him with a menacing tone in your voice. "I won't hesitate to blow your little comrade's brains all over the room the next time you take another step in this direction."

Jorge trembles and nods his agreement. "He'll do it, Jose! Don't do nothing rash!" Then he adds another comment in Spanish. You give him a mild whack to the head. "And no speakin' Mexican!"

An unsettling silence follows as the tension builds in the room. You break the silence by announcing your demands. "I want a horse made ready for me! And you better not try anything shifty!"

Jose and the other thug hesitate, but Jorge again vehemently nods his agreement. "Just do it!" he orders them in a shaky voice. Jose grunts his dissatisfaction, but motions for the other man to go about the preparation. "You won't git way wit dis, amigo," he sneers. "Paco's gonna find you no matter where you run!"

"You know what, Jose?" you retort in a testosterone-induced feeling of superiority. "You can tell Paco to kiss my lily-white ass when you see him! And you know what else? Tell him that I didn't rape the whore, she spread her legs willingly." Jose's face locks into a ferocious snarl that on any other day would scare you shitless. "You gonna be sorry you said that, gringo!"

Only time will tell. Twenty minutes later you're on your newly-acquired steed, galloping away from the scene. In the distance you can see a cloud of dust. The bandits are following you, but that's no surprise. Jorge rides with you, as well. Now a pesky situation arises. Should you kill this bastard, or take him as a hostage? You're not a man who gains pleasure in murdering another soul - but sometimes murder is a necessity of business in the untamed West. You decide to keep him alive for now.

For now. Against the far, sun-scorched horizon you can barely make out Coyote Rock. The place where you're to meet Gus and Annie. You feel a longing to make a break for that safe haven. Then again, you know of a creek a few miles to the east where you could possibly loose your pursuers much more easily. Problem is, the creek is known to be the haunt of a hostile band of renegade Kaganis.