Sins of a Child

by 

Marilyn

Chapter One

Green River’s scruffy and unkempt sheriff, Val Crawford stepped out of his office frowning, mumbling to himself in his normal fashion. He paused to scratch at his stubble, and yawned loudly. He was taking his sweet ol’ time buckling up his gun belt, before he acknowledged the people in front of him. He looked over at the couple sitting haughtily in their fancy buggy, with their noses up in the air, and his frown almost went into a disgusted sneer. The last thing he wanted to do was escort these people to Lancer, not after he had been told by the army captain who they were. Captain Davis and his small troop of rough looking soldiers had been their guide and protection until now. Now they were here seeking his help in locating the ranch, and a certain young ex-gunfighter.

Roberto Vega was a Spanish man with aristocratic bearing. He was a citizen of some importance back in Mexico, and he damn well made sure people knew it, too. The minute he arrived in town, he commenced to rudely barking out orders to the locals, even Val. The gray haired, well-dressed stocky man had an attitude that didn’t sit well with the hard-nosed Sheriff. Vega thought he was royalty… that you didn’t talk to him unless you were spoken to first or acknowledged and given permission. There had already been a few heated words exchange between the two men, and Val felt like belting the self- righteous man in the kisser. However, he had to remember he was the law in this town and therefore had to control himself, no matter how hard Vega made it.

Senor Vega was traveling with his wife, Ana. She was a medium built woman with long dark hair. Her hair was nicely done up to accommodate the beautiful Mexican headdress that women of wealth wore. Val looked her over carefully, in the customary way any man would. He had to admit that she was a beautiful woman, but that beauty was spoiled by her own attitude, the same condescending one as her husband. Val snorted to himself as he thought, ‘perfect pair…they deserve each other.’

Val stood staring at the little group, taking his time, absolutely in no hurry to do their bidding. Crawford was pondering on some questions he had on his mind, like ‘why the military escort?’ How important were these people? It had him puzzled, as no one had told him anything other than they needed him to show them the way to Lancer, and Johnny. Val still wasn’t too happy with the idea of leading them to his buddy. And there was another thing that had him baffled, how did they know where to find him? They had asked for Madrid not Lancer, but knew he was at the ranch. They just didn’t know how to get there.

Val had sent word to Lancer to warn them that they were about to receive some unpleasant company. He had also cautioned Johnny to keep on his guard, or maybe to just stay away until they found out what they wanted with him.

"Well, Senor Sheriff, are you going to take us to Lancer?" Roberto asked insolently. "You are wasting our valuable time."

"Hold on to yer dang blasted horses," Val snorted, "We have plenty of time to get there. We’ll leave when I say it’s time to leave." He growled at the pompous man. Val was getting sick and tired of the man’s high and mighty manner. He gave Vega a sharp disdainful look and walked over to the smirking Captain. "What’s so funny?" he snapped at Davis.

"Oh, just that it’s your turn to put up with him." Davis replied happily, "I’ve had enough of that man, he’s like a tyrant, ordering my men around like they’re his slaves or something. He’s never happy with anything or anyone."

"Well, he’s not going to do that to me, I don’t give a damn who he is, or who he thinks he is," Val declared. However, he was still curious enough to ask, "Why the military escort? Why does he need your protection?" he whispered so they wouldn’t hear him.

"I don’t know. They came to the fort, asking for protection and a guide, so I was ordered to take a few men, and escort them here to Lancer," the captain replied, rubbing his thin chin. " But I do know that while on the way here, Vega did seem a little nervous about something. He and his wife always kept to themselves. It was like they were hiding from someone."

Val didn’t like the sound of that one bit, something about this made his skin crawl, and he was glad that he had send word ahead to Murdoch. He just hoped that Johnny wasn’t there. "Yeah, I noticed that too, he seemed jumpy, like something was biting at his ass, when he first came to town. Vega was looking behind every corner and alley way as you rode into town." Val said remembering, "Like he was looking fer someone."

"Sheriff!" The arrogant Vega shouted.

"Alright, alright, get mounted up!" Val shouted out, and then mumbled loud enough for the man to hear. "Let’s go, your highness!" A disgruntled Val led the couple out of town, followed by the Captain and his men.

As they were leaving, a pair of brown eyes watched carefully from the hayloft door of the near by stable, making mental notes as to which way they were headed. Once they were out of seeing distance, the brown eyes narrowed, and the door slowly closed.

*********

"Where’s Johnny?" Scott asked when he entered the great room from the kitchen. He stood there waiting for an answer from his father, who was nervously pacing back and forth, still holding the note from Val. He kept reading it over and over again. It had Murdoch curious, but mostly worried as to why these people were coming here.

"He left right after I showed him the note." Murdoch replied, stopping long enough to pour himself a stiff drink. "He said he was going for a ride."

"Can’t say that I blame him," Scott stated, he had read the note before Johnny did, and he too did not like the sound of this. "What in the hell do they want with him, anyway? Who is this Roberto Vega, and how did he know where to find Johnny?" Scott plopped down heavily in the big chair by the fireplace.

"I have no idea who he is, I’ve never heard of him. But I’ll tell you one thing, he’d had better prove to be on the up and up, before I let him even see or say one word to your brother." Murdoch said strongly. "They’re from Mexico, that alone has me worried." The dread in the concerned father’s voice was plainly heard.

"I know what you mean. Johnny doesn’t need any reminders from that part of his past," Scott said sadly. "He’s doing so well adjusting to his new life, and I hope this doesn’t interfere with it. Maybe you should have refused and told Val not to bring them here."

"No, Scott, they would have just found someone else to show them the way. We might as well get this over with, and see what they want." Murdoch replied with a heavy sigh. "Maybe it’s not as bad as we think."

"Lets hope so." Scott agreed, then thought of his little brother, and where he might have had ridden off too. " I bet Johnny is sitting in his special spot, where he likes to go to think, whenever he is troubled about something."

"Could be." Murdoch said in a sullen voice.

"How did he look, when he left?"

"Not good, Scott, the sparkle flickered and died in his eyes the minute he read this blasted note." The tall rancher snorted, "Like Death had walked over him, he looked at it with such hurt in his eyes, and then said he was going for a ride."

"Do you think he knows this Vega?"

" I was wondering that, too, maybe, and that has me even more troubled. Lets hope Johnny will survive this visit in one piece." Murdoch downed his drink, and then poured another one, while waiting for their unwelcome guests to arrive.

Meanwhile a golden palomino stood on top of the hill, grazing on the fresh green grass, while the horse’s owner lurked in the shadows of the trees. Sad and troubled blue eyes were watching and waiting, dreading the arrival of his past.

Chapter Two

Johnny sat anxiously on the lush green hill that over looked the road leading to the ranch. His brooding presence camouflaged by the shade of the trees that stood in a stately manner upon the incline of the land. Johnny nervously played with a twig, twirling it between his long agile fingers, while biting down on a blade of sweet grass. He was undecided as to whether he wanted to wait here a little longer or head home.

Johnny had fled to the comfort and safety of his favorite spot after finding out about the imminent arrival of unwanted visitors. He had saddled Barranca and rode off fast and hard. The feeling of the wind blowing against his tan face, helped soothe his raw emotions. He let the thrill of the ride work out the tension and anger that had built up inside of him. When the wild ride ended, Johnny found himself on the hillside. It wasn’t just his preferred thinking spot but also a good place to catch a glimpse of the man that was coming to see him. A man he wanted no part of . . . a man he had hated for all these years.

Johnny had never actually met the man, face to face, but yet he despised him. He had many opportunities to seek the man out, to meet and talk with him back then. But something had always made the young gun-hawk turn away, never wanting to bother with that part of Mexico. Even then, in those by-gone days, Johnny had realized, he wouldn’t know how he would react if they did meet. Every time he thought about Vega, his blood pressure would rise to a boiling point, making his whole body feel as though the heat of rage would consume him from the inside out. Johnny had forgotten all about the man, or at least tried to when he had come home to Lancer. Now the bastard was coming here to him. ‘Why?’ Johnny wondered, ‘Why now?’

Letting out a heavy sigh, he pressed his palms firmly against his eyes. Johnny’s mind was made up; it was time to head home. He strode with renewed purpose to his golden friend and mounted. He would find out soon enough why Vega was coming here to Lancer, there was no sense dwelling on it or hiding from it. Besides, he rather would confront the man in the safety and comfort of his own home, with his family by his side for support.

"Come on boy, let’s go home." He murmured gently, as he patted Barranca’s golden neck. As he spun the horse into the direction of the hacienda, he spied a small group in the distance heading towards the house. With a gentle kick to Barranca’s side, he took off at a gallop, he wanted to get home, and fast.

********

Murdoch stood stiffly by the French doors, trying to keep his wits about him. He watched his unwelcome visitors pass under the Lancer arch. Just minutes ago, Johnny had returned home, storming in like he was being chased by a swarm of agitated bees. He paused to announce, "They’re coming," and headed straight upstairs to his room. Climbing the stairs two steps at a time in his effort to put some distance between himself and them. The expression on his son’s face had Murdoch worried and it had him wondering what this man meant to Johnny.

"Is Johnny still upstairs?" Scott asked as he entered the room, walking over to the bar to pour himself a drink, "Want one?" He asked holding up the bottle, seeing that his father appeared wound up and antsy.

"Yes, he’s still upstairs, and no thanks, maybe later. I have feeling I’m going to need it more then." He answered, still looking out the window.

"Did Johnny say if he knew them?"

"No, but the way he looked when he came home, tells me he does." Murdoch said. "If he is that upset by them being here, maybe I should just cut the visit short, and send them on their way." Murdoch suggested moodily.

"That would be rude, Sir, to allow them to come all this way, and not give them a chance to rest up from the ride." Scott was trying to be reasonable and mannerly about the situation, even though he shared his father thoughts. He too, would rather see them leave right away.

"Yes, you’re right, son, any way we’ll find out soon enough," Murdoch agreed, then pointed to the yard. "Our guests have arrived"

The two Lancer men schooled their features to neutrality, and walked out to greet the travelers. Upstairs a confused and lone figure stood behind the curtains of his bedroom window, peering down at the group below. Looking pass Val, his father, and brother, Johnny’s eyes narrowed, their blue depths turning cold as ice when he got a quick glance at the man called Vega. His heart thudded fast and painfully against his chest at the sight of the man. His blood rushed swiftly through his body, giving him a light-headed feeling; Johnny knew he had to get control of himself. He called on his Madrid persona; letting the hardened gun fighter in him take control, he started to relax. Johnny stepped back away from the window, letting the curtains fall back in place. And waited.

Roberto Vega saw the tall rancher approaching, and quickly jumped from the buggy. He hurried over to greet Murdoch, rudely interrupting Val, as he just about to introduce the group to the Lancers.

"Ah, Señor Lancer, I presume?" Vega said extending his hand to Murdoch, ignoring Scott who stood next to his father.

Val shook his head in disgust, mumbled something hotly under his breath, and then introduced the man to Lancer. "Murdoch Lancer, this here is Senor Vega, and his lovely wife Ana." Val said in a mocking polite voice. "And this is Murdoch’s other son, Scott Lancer." Val added.

"Señor." Scott said politely.

"Señor Vega, welcome to Lancer, please do come in and tell us what brings you here."

Murdoch said, taking the man’s hand, shaking it lightly, "Jelly, will you show the Vegas into the great room," he ask the handy man who had joined the crowd. "I’ll be in shortly, I want to talk to Val for a few minutes."

"Sure, Boss. Right this way folks," Jelly instructed, showing them the way through the huge wooden doors of the house. As Jelly walked by the couple carrying a few of their bags, they lifted their heads in a smug disdainful manner at the man, before following him into the house.

"Val, what do you make of them?" Murdoch asked frankly.

"Trouble, but that’s only my thinking, I could be wrong." Val admitted, "Where’s Johnny?"

"He’s upstairs, he’ll come down when he’s ready. I’m not going to push him."

"Well, I hope this will turn out to be a good visit for y’all. I have to get back to town now, I don’t trust that deputy of mine to keep the peace for too long." The gruff old sheriff said with a smirk. "Good luck to ya." Val mounted up, and then headed back to town.

"Mr. Lancer," Captain Davis said, as he approached the tall rancher. "I’m Captain Davis."

"Captain, what can I do for you?" Murdoch asked shaking the man’s hand.

"I was wondering where we could set up our camp. We have to stay with the Vegas until they leave and go back to the fort." the officer answered.

"Yes, you can camp over there by the pond." he told the Captain, pointing to a spot just beyond the gate.

"Thank you, sir," The Captain tipped his hat and motioned for his men to follow him, as Murdoch continued on inside.

Once inside, Murdoch watched as his visitors were taken in by the grandeur of the great room. Their eyes widened with delight and amazement, obviously they had not thought to find these comforts in the wilds. Mrs. Vega walked about the room, and out of habit she rubbed her white glove along the furniture, as if she were checking for dust. All the while her nosed was pinched with snobbish contempt.

"You have a grand place here, Señor." Roberto commented.

"Thank you, now Señor Vega, would mind telling me the purpose of this visit," he asked rather bluntly.

"That’s what I would like to know?" said the dangerously soft voice coming from the doorway.

Chapter Three

All eyes were riveted on the lean figure of the scowling young man who stood before them. Externally, he emanated a facade that spoke of a laid back, cold and hardened gun-hawk, but internally he felt so vulnerable, exposed and susceptible. His blood rushed in an almost panicked pace through his veins, heating his body up like a raging fire burning out of control, consuming his very soul. His heart was painfully pounding, thudding with merciless abandon against his chest, as raw- emotions threatened to over take him. Johnny felt himself losing the Madrid persona, putting him in a weak position. He fought desperately to keep his walls of self-defense in place. Or he would never get through this. But it was useless, like trying to quench a thirst with a thimble of water. Just the mere presence of Vega, was breaking that mask down, shattering his control, peeling back his layers of protection. Johnny trembled at the sight of the man, and it was scaring the hell out of him, he was back to feeling like an unwanted child.

Just moments before, upstairs in his room, Johnny had paced the floor until he was dizzy from the action, stopping when he realized it was the only way to keep the room from spinning around him. He battled irrational and erratic thoughts of packing his saddlebags, and high tailing it away. He could escape out the back way, that’s what Johnny Lancer wanted to do, head for the line shack and stay there until they had left. However, his Madrid side, the stronger, unafraid of nothing side, told him to stay, stick it out, to make a stand. Johnny knew he could never out run his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried, therefore he decided to face this demon, Vega, an heretofore unseen horror from his youth. The thoughts of finally laying eyes on the man left him with a deep, cold ache in the pit of his stomach. He shuddered to think how actually seeing him would affect him.

Roberto stared with fascination at the young man. A crooked smile graced his face, as he took in Johnny’s perfect features. This was the first time he had actually laid eyes on Johnny. He was amazed, delighted by the strong cheekbones, the tan skin, the thick black hair, all the characteristics of a regal Spaniard. Vega saw nobility in Johnny, and thought with the proper training, he could be the perfect aristocrat. The thoughts soured on his stomach and the smile disappeared when he noted Johnny’s sapphire blue eyes, the mark of a mestizo. The noble thoughts vanished faster than frost under a bright morning sun. He pacified himself with the fact this was not the reason why he was here, anyway.

Johnny didn’t give a rat’s ass about Vega. He aloofly studied the features of the man as he slowly walked over to the group, he did see something in the stocky man that reminded him of someone. He had questions for Vega, queries that had preyed on his mind over the years. They ate away at his subconscious, questions he was sure that his father would be very interested in hearing, along with the answers. But Johnny had to admit to himself that he was afraid to hear what Vega had to say, to finally know for certain. A Mexican stand off ensued for a few minutes, as they glared at each other. Johnny took a deep breath, finally breaking the silence, he frigidly stared Vega right in the eyes.

"Did you know about me?" Johnny asked, as his heart raced like a herd of stampeding horses.

"I do not understand." Vega answered, acting all confused, bowing his head, as though to hide his shame.

"You heard me! Did you know about me, back then?" Johnny sharply demanded, rephrasing his words so the man would understand. "Look at me!" he commanded.

"Sí," Vega whispered, his head still down.

"You bastard!" Johnny growled through his teeth, and then quickly turned and walked away, turning his back on the group. His body trembled as wild emotions threatened to spin him out of control as he fought back the urge to belt the weasel right in the kisser.

Murdoch didn’t like where this was going; nor what he was witnessing, and had had enough of this bull. He demanded answers, loudly, "Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" He was meet by a stony, rigid silence. He glanced at his son and recognized the distress in his body stance, he calmly inquired, "Johnny?"

Johnny waited for Vega to answer his father, but knew he wouldn’t, so he quickly turned around and walk back over and confronted Vega. "I guess I’ll have to tell him, huh?"

Johnny eyes were full of hurt and anger as he spoke, his voice slightly quivering. "You…you want to know who this is, I’ll tell ya, Murdoch." Johnny said taking his gaze away from the sullen face man, and then pausing to gather his thoughts. "This here is my Mama’s brother, my tio!" A look of disgust painted his face as he spat out the next words, "The tio who didn’t lift a God damn finger to help us when we needed it. The tio, who I now know, knew about me, and didn’t even try to find me after Mama died." Johnny stopped to compose himself, before he asked, " Isn’t that right?"

Roberto said nothing, as he was utterly shocked, for he had no idea that Johnny even knew about him. He had thought Maria had said nothing about him to her hijo, or to her friends, and was overwhelmed with the hostile greeting; he was getting from his sobrino.

Murdoch and Scott stood frozen in place, with their mouths open in stunned disbelief. Their minds traveling back to in time; dazed by horrific visions of Johnny alone, out there in that God-forsaken land, scared, hungry, preyed on by ruthless people, unsure who to trust. And this man, his tio, did nothing to help a ten-year old boy in a dire need of a home. Scott stood there red faced, as his own blood started to boil, while Murdoch was quiet, his anger simmering under the surface as his mind also considered his wife, and how her lies and betrayal also put his son in that position.

"Maria had a brother?" Murdoch said softly, as his thoughts escaped to be voiced aloud. "She said she had no family."

"Sí, she has a brother, one who didn’t give damn about her. One, I didn’t know about until it was too late!" Johnny answered his father. "Now, I would like to know why? Why now?"

"Juanito." Roberto said softly.

"Don’t call me that!" Johnny shouted, with such pain in his heart, it felt like it was about to burst open. "Why are you here? You didn’t care about me back then, was it because I’m a mestizo, HUH? Were you ashamed that your sister had such a freak for a son?" Johnny asked his voice cracking, his raw emotions breaking and shattering the Madrid mask.

"JOHNNY!" Murdoch hollered not liking his son’s description of himself. "Stop it!"

"NO MURDOCH!" Johnny hollered back, then turning his attention back to his mortified uncle. "I would like to know, what this monster thinks of me. I’ll tell ya what I do know, is that my mama wrote you, didn’t she? She asked for help, and you refused. Didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?" He was getting very annoyed at the man’s silence, and felt like beating the answers out of him.

"Sí, she wrote me, I offered to bring her home, where she belonged." Vega finally spoke up, his voice shaky as he looked over at his quiet wife. "I told her I would help if she would come home, but she said no, that she had a son, that she did not want to expose him…you, to our kind of life." Vega’s head was slightly bowed, trying to sound sincere. Deep down inside his dark soul, he knew Johnny did speak the truth, he was ashamed that he had a half-breed for a nephew, that his own sister had married a gringo.

"Your kind of life?" Johnny asked sharply, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.

"Your Mama hated to be watched over all the time, she despised being the proper young woman she was suppose to be, she was too wild, we couldn’t control her." Vega said. "Maria ran off looking for adventure, love, not caring about the familia she left behind." He paused to reflect, "She wrote saying she needed money, and knew that I had taken over for our papa after he had died. I told her to come home and I will give her the money, but she refused, so I did not."

"Did you even try to find her?" Murdoch asked harshly, after finding his voice. "You knew where she was, seeing that you had a letter from her." He added, glaring at the sweating little rat.

"Sí, I knew where she was, but I figured it would not do any good if I did try to find her." Vega answered trying to take his eyes away from Murdoch’s hard cold ones, only to be met by Scott’s. Scott wanted nothing more than to throw Vega out on his sorry ass, after he had beaten the hell out of him.

"So you let a ten-year old boy, fend for himself after his Mama died, and didn’t care to even find HIM!" Murdoch growled loudly, like a papa bear ready to pounce on the jackal that hurt his cub. He wanted to rip his cold heart out, and throw it in the trash where it belonged.

"Sí."

Murdoch turned to see Johnny standing there shaking; his eyes showed the hurt and disappointment; the abandonment was coming back to him. His face portrayed the sense of having had the rug pulled out from under him. Johnny started to sway; he was feeling light-headed; so he sat down, putting his head between his legs, trying to control his emotions. Scott sat down next to Johnny, wrapping his arms around his brother, feeling his body tremble against his, and then shot a lethal glare at the Vegas.

"And who is this?" Roberto asked pointing to Scott, forgetting he had been introduced earlier to Scott, or just didn’t care to acknowledge the blond Lancer.

Johnny’s head shot up and he pierced his Uncle with the coldest glare ever. "This is my brother, Scott," Johnny said proudly. "The brother I never knew I had, thanks to your sister! She stole me away from my father, this land, and my birthright. Did you even know about that?" he asked harshly, and then let out a mocking half laugh. "Of course you did, I bet you even knew what I had to become to stay a live, and that I came home, or otherwise how would you know where to find me, HUH?"

"You have no right talking to your tio like that!" Ana spoke up, breaking her stoic silence.

"And you have no right coming here! Not now, not after all these years!" Johnny answered back, standing up too quickly from the couch, he swayed almost falling over, Scott had to swiftly catch him.

"I want them out of my house, Murdoch, please." Johnny implored from the comfort of his brother's arms.

"Now see here, we came all this way to see you."

"And you never did tell us why," Scott spoke up.

"Well?" Johnny demanded.

Chapter Four

Total silence reigned in the great room, it was as though the Angel of Death had descended with its black shroud billowing out; killing all sound except for wildly beating hearts. The unnatural quiet was reminiscent of a tomb. The aberrant stillness magnified the unease between the Lancers and Vegas. Vega, stood with his head bowed, he could feel the cold hard glares coming from the Lancer men, piercing his soul, sending a chill down his spineless torso. He imagined he could feel the air stir from their angry huffs of breath as they waited contemptuously for the answer to Johnny’s question. Vega knew he could not reveal the truth to them, not yet anyhow, he prayed he could come up with an answer they would believe.

" Well?" Johnny snorted, getting very annoyed with this oppressive silence.

"It is because I am your Tio, that I come to see you." Vega said blurting out the only answer he could think of at the moment. "I realize now, I was wrong. I should have looked for you, taken you in, but my foolish pride did not allow me to do so." Vega paused, nervously licking his lips as he studied Johnny for any kind of reaction. "I would like to get to know my nephew."

"Sí, that is why we are here." Ana anxiously agreed with her husband. Grateful for the answer he had come up with, fearing they would be found out too soon.

"Well it’s a little too late for that, don’t ya think?" Johnny replied rather curtly. "Besides I don’t believe ya, not one bit." Johnny added getting up from the couch, his limbs shaky from the intensity of his raw emotions. Scott frowned at the couple, as he also stood up grabbing a hold of his brother to stabilize and support him. Johnny held on to his brother’s arm for a few seconds, and then slowly walked over to Vega, stopping a few inches from the trembling man’s face. "Now tell me the real reason you are here," he asked in a deadly tone.

"Johnny!" Murdoch intervened, " They have had a long ride, let them rest up, then we can talk later." Murdoch was trying to be polite, but he too felt like throwing the couple out. Murdoch pinned the man with a lethal glare, "And we will talk later, Vega!" Murdoch added boldly.

"Sí, Sí, I would love to freshen up," Ana agreed, "I must have inhaled at least a ton of dust." She added trying to break the tension in the air that was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Johnny broke his hard glare from Vega, and stepped back from his so called Tio, to let the man pass.

"Jelly will you please show them to their room?" Murdoch asked the quiet handy man.

Jelly had been standing in the corner taking in all the drama, and wishing he were some place else right now. He didn’t like Vega, he got a bad feeling about him; it was beyond him how anyone could refuse to help a child due to his heritage.

"Sure boss, anything ya say." Jelly grumbled, as he grabbed their bags. "When is Teresa getting back? Ain’t this her job?"

"She’ll be back tomorrow night, now show them to their room, please." Murdoch ordered.

"Right this way folks!’ Jelly said abruptly. "Next thing he’ll have me to do is draw their baths," he mumbled to himself, as the couple followed him up the stairs, noses still in the air, as though they were too good to breathe the same air as him.

Murdoch turned his attention back to his son, who was fretfully pacing the floor. "Johnny settle down, you’re going to make yourself sick."

"How can you be so damn calm, Murdoch? HUH? " Johnny asked snapping harshly at his father. "You heard him. He didn’t do a DAMN thing to help me, or Mama. He…he left a ten-year old boy out there, alone, hungry… God was I hungry… and scared, and God knows what…" Johnny said the words trailing off, his voice breaking up. He realized that it was all in the past. But it still hurt too much to forget it, as much as he tried. The pain was still too fresh. Vega showing up like this just added more horror to the traumatizing memories his presence stirred up.

"Yes, I heard him!" Murdoch snorted back. "And believe me I didn’t like it one little bit, son, but we have to listen to the man, at least give him the benefit of the doubt." Murdoch firmly expressed.

"The benefit of the doubt?" Scott blurted out; shocked that Murdoch would suggest that. "He knew about Johnny but still he left your SON to fend for himself in that God forsaken part of the world, and you want to give him the benefit of the doubt?" Scott’s face glowed red with his rage, "I’m with Johnny; we should just show them on their way. I, personally, think they should hit the road and I really don’t care if they do it in their carriage or under it!"

Johnny turned to face his big brother, and gave him a sad smile, grateful that at least one family member agreed with him. He hugged his arms to his torso, and dropped his chin to his chest to peer at his father through his long lashes, he could tell his father was thinking hard.

"Let’s wait until tomorrow, okay? It had been a long day, and Maria has dinner almost done, let’s just try to get by tonight." Murdoch suggested to his sons.

"Well, I lost my appetite, so if you don’t mind, I’ll pass on dinner." Johnny said coldly. "I have some things to tend to in the barn, I’ll be in later." He grabbed his hat and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

"Johnny!"

"Let him go, Murdoch, this was a big blow to him, he needs to think." Scott stated wisely. "I can only imagine what he is going through right now."

"Yes, I know," Murdoch sadly whispered. "He’s not the only one in shock," he added shaking his head in disbelief. "Maria told me she no family left. Believe me Scott, if I had known about Vega, he would have been the first person I would have gone to for help in finding your brother." Murdoch said with remorse.

"I know you would have, Sir." Scott assured his father that he understood. "But if Johnny knew about his Uncle, why didn’t he seek him out?" He couldn’t help but question his little brother’s motives for not seeking Vega out.

"I don’t know, maybe his own pride got in the way, too."

"Or maybe he was afraid of how he would have been received…being who he was and the lies his mother told him." Scott speculated grimly as that thought came to him. Scott cringed when his father’s face morphed from remorseful to a look of total anguish and disgust, over the injustice of his former wife’s actions.

"Another mark his selfish mother put on him!" Murdoch growled, striking his huge fist against the wall, rattling a painting that hung there. "She made it so he was afraid to even attempt to contact other family members, let alone me." He ranted on, only stopping at the sound of a soft cough coming from the direction of the dining room, he turned quickly to find Maria standing there.

"Pardon, Señor, dinner is ready." She announced in a hushed voice.

"Thank you, Maria, I’ll let our guests know."

Maria nodded, her face sullen as she walked back to the kitchen. She had unintentionally listened in on some of the conversation, and did not like what she had heard. It had saddened her heart, and she was getting very worried about her Juanito. Johnny was like the son she never had, always greeting her with a smile that could brighten up the darkest room. Now this, she just hoped that that smile would not fade away forever.

"Lets try to get through dinner, shall we, and you are not going to leave me alone with that man!" Murdoch ordered Scott to stay, knowing very well he wanted to buck and leave too. "I need you here to help me keep my sanity, Scott." His eldest just nodded his consent.

"Good," Murdoch replied, as he turned on his heel and left to fetch his unwelcome visitors.

Johnny slowly walked over to the corral, lost in his thoughts. He fought the wild urge to run and hide, to be any place but here. He shook off the frenzied thoughts, as he knew he couldn’t run from bad memories, they would just trail along behind him nipping at his heels. He had to stay and face Vega again. He still needed answers, good or bad, he needed to hear them, to maybe put an end to this hell he was going through right now.

As he entered the barn, so deep in thought he was distracted to his surroundings, Johnny never noticed the two forms lurking in the shadows.

"There he goes, let’s grab him now!" said a high squeaky voice.

"No, he would be missed too soon. No, we wait until Vega says it is safe." A mellow toned voice answered, "You have to play it just right, with a man like Madrid."

Chapter Five,

Dinner at the Lancer ranch was far from normal that evening. The table had been set with the fine china and the silver gleamed in the candlelight, the festive look did not extend to the demeanor of the room. The atmosphere was far from celebratory, nerves were on edge, and the tension was immense, so palpable and heavy in the air, it was a wonder it didn’t shatter the crystal goblets. The uneasy quiet was broken only by the sound of cutlery on plates, and Maria’s soft footsteps as she entered the room. Everybody picked at the food pushing it around the plates. Maria had prepared many of Johnny’s favorites hoping to entice him to join his family, tio or not. As she served them, Maria’s face was rigid with aversion. Maria had put a silent curse on these people, for coming here and causing her nino such anguish. In Scott’s mind she resembled an angry mother hen. He snickered silently to himself as an image of Maria pecking the Vega’s eyes out, flitted through his mind.

Roberto and his wife sat with stiff propriety, as though they were holding court. Their decorum never wavered while showing off their grace and good manners. Their noses were still in the air, and occasionally a worried glance passed between them. Murdoch observed them with teeth clenching agitation. He had a lot of unanswered questions on his mind; he was dying to ask and demand the answers. He waged an internal war on whether he should speak now, or wait until after dinner.

Scott’s thoughts were preoccupied with worries about his little brother, who did make a quick appearance only to announce he was turning in early. Scott asked Maria to take a plate up to him. She came back announcing Johnny wasn’t hungry, that he would grab a bite later. Johnny was doing his best to avoid Vega, and it had Scott very concerned. He was also very annoyed and angry that these people were keeping Johnny away from his family. If he had his druthers, he would take matters in his own hands and throw them out on their stuck-up asses. The only thing that stopped him was he had promised to try and be polite to them for Murdoch’s sake, which was asking a lot.

After dinner, Anna turned in for the night, it had been a long journey, and she was still quite tired. After gulping down a few stiff drinks in the hopes it would help them relax enough to get to some sleep, both Murdoch and Scott bid good night, leaving Roberto lingering about. Vega had a lot on his mind, things that had him confused as to what to do. However one thing remained quite clear, he had no choice, no way out, he would have to finish what he started. Pouring himself another drink, he sat down by the fireplace watching the fire slowly burn its self out, leaving the charred remnants of wood blackened and ash covered, like his soul.

"Oh, you’re still up." Said a soft voice, startling the man. Roberto flinched, he had not heard Johnny come in.

"I thought you went to bed?" Johnny grumbled.

"No, not yet." Vega replied softly to his nephew, "And you?"

"Just came down for snack," Johnny answered coldly. "But it seems I lost my appetite again," he said bluntly, and spun around back towards the stairs.

"No, please stay, we need to talk." The man pleaded.

"About what?" Johnny asked sharply, with a frigid and disinterested glare at his Tio. "We have nothing to talk about!"

Vega bowed his head in a subservient manner, letting out a heavy sigh, "I know what you must think of me." He said in a self-effacing voice, trying to sound humble.

"Do YOU?" Ok, tell me then…tell me what I think of you?" Johnny demanded in a voice full of hurt and anger.

Roberto stood, head still bowed, trying to gather his thoughts, this was his nephew, his sister’s nino, the one he shunned. He looked up and stared into Johnny’s blue eyes, his gringo eyes . . . as they were glaring at him. They were icy cold, but they were also the windows to the young man’s soul and Vega balked at the pain in saw in them, pain he helped put there. But he couldn’t let this throw him, he couldn’t let it interfere with what he had to do, what he must do, for he felt he was powerless to stop it.

"I did look for you." Vega claimed, even though it was a lie. "But you were like a ghost, there, but not there. You would disappear once anybody got close."

Johnny let out a sharp half laugh. "Oh, don’t make me laugh, you knew where I was, even after mama died," he reminded the man. "All you had do was look, you knew those towns in Mexico, as well as they knew of you!"

"Sí, but Mexico is a big country, and you were one small boy. I did not know what you looked like then." Vega hoped the vague excuses would work.

"All you had to do was ask about a mestizo with big blue eyes, you would have found me." Johnny frostily informed Vega. "One that was beaten half the time, fighting for his life, starving and living in alley’s." Johnny’s voice broke under the strain of the bitter memories and he closed his eyes in a bid to regain control over his spiraling emotions.

"I did not know."

"You didn’t know, my ass. What did you think they did to half-breeds? HUH? Take us in, love us, treated us like one of their own?" Johnny growled, shaking his dark head in disbelief. "No, I had to learn to do what ever it took to stay alive, and that meant defending myself…with a gun. And I got good, real good. I had to bury that boy, and become a man, I had to become Madrid!"

"But your papa?"

"My father did look for me, but thanks to my mama, your sister, she made it impossible to find us." Johnny said angrily. "But Murdoch never gave up on me, and he did find me, and I came home…too stay." Seeing that he was wasting his words on the man, Johnny shook his head. "I’ve had enough of this bullshit. I’m going back upstairs, though I doubt I can sleep."

"Please have drink, it might help you sleep," Vega said stopping Johnny from departing the room.

"What do you care?"

"Please, just one drink, then I’ll leave you be." Roberto pleaded.

Johnny sighed heavily, "I guess one drink won’t hurt, it might even help my sudden headache . . . not to mention the pain in my ass," he said spitefully.

Roberto slyly grinned at his victory, when Johnny wasn’t looking. He craftily turned his back to the young man, as he poured the drinks. Glancing over his shoulder, Vega covertly opened a tiny compartment in his ring revealing and dumping a white powder into Johnny’s drink. He stirred it slightly before he turned back to face his nephew. Johnny took the drink and gulped it down, as his tio looked on with a satisfied smile.

"Your papa, he is a good man, huh?" the man asked trying to buy time, waiting for the powder to take effect. He didn’t have to wait long.

"Yes, Murdo..ch….is..a..go…od…ma…" Johnny tried to say, slurring and stuttering his words as he spoke. He started to feel light headed, as though his head would float away. The feeling was swiftly replaced by a heaviness that threatened to snap his neck as he tried to hold his head up. His focus wavered, things started to get blurry, he rubbed his eyes to try to clear his vision. The room started to spin around him, as the dizziness got worse; his empty stomach cramped like it was turning around inside of him. Johnny staggered as he tried to walk, his legs felt boneless, and he couldn’t tell if his feet were actually on the floor. He grabbed for the couch to support himself, but it was no use. "Yo..u bas..t..ar..d wh..at did…yo..u…." Johnny’s voice trailed off, as he crashed to the floor. He stared up at Vega’s form slowly disappearing as his eyesight grayed around the edges, and then tunneled to pinpricks as the light faded completely, and he was consumed by blackness.

Roberto stared at his unconscious nephew for a few moments before he grabbed Johnny by the arms, and dragged him to the kitchen, laying him down by the back door. Opening it, he waved his hand, and two men appeared from the shadows. The stocky men dressed like banditos quietly hurried into the room to claim their prize.

"So this is the famous Madrid?" the taller man said, as he got a closer look at Johnny.

"Don’t look so tough now, does he?" the shorter one commented, as he smirked.

"Shut up, and take him. You must be quiet," Vega demanded. "Tell your boss I did my part, and he better keep his promise."

"We will."

The two men roughly grabbed Johnny and took off, fading into the darkness. Vega watched, sadly he bowed his head, crossing himself. "Forgive me Juantio, but I had no choice."

Chapter Six

"Morning Maria, breakfast smells good." Murdoch greeted the busy woman, as he sat down at the dining room table, and marveled at the food she had prepared. The table was laid out with a multitude of delights, such as Mexican style scrambled eggs, ham and steak, which lay steaming on the platters, fresh biscuits with several jars of homemade jelly, and coffee, it all filled the room with mouth-watering aromas. She had purposely made the feast not for the guests, but her Jauntio. Maria knew that he had not eaten a thing since lunch the day before, and that he would be famished this morning. Of this she was certain, since she had noticed that Johnny didn’t raid her kitchen last night, like he normally would.

"Gracias, Senor, I hope you enjoy." Maria said smiling, bowing her head in respect. As she looked back up, the smile turned into an annoyed frown and an angry glint hardened her eyes, when she spied Vega coming into her view. "I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me, Senor." Maria quickly left the room, muttering in a disgruntled manner.

"Ah, what a delicious aroma, your cook has out done herself, Senor Lancer." Vega said as he approached the table, "What culinary delights, a feast fit for a king." His eyes rounded in pleasure, as he was anxious to sink his teeth into the food before him.

"Sit Señor, where is your wife?" Murdoch inquired curtly.

"She will be down shortly, you know women, they like to primp and fuss to make themselves more alluring." He replied with a nervous chuckle, but Murdoch was not amused.

Murdoch still had a lot of questions on his mind. He observed his guest with a somewhat distrustful eye and puzzled air. He couldn’t help but wonder why Vega was in a chipper mood this morning especially after the heated and rather uncomfortable evening, last night. Before he had time to formulate a reason for the mood, his distrust changed to worry for his son. Johnny was usually down by now gobbling his food, and gulping down his milk, to fuel himself for a busy day of chores. He sighed as he decided Johnny must have still been trying to avoid Vega. More than likely Johnny left before Maria arrived, otherwise why would she make all his favorites, thinking he was here? Unless, Johnny grabbed something from the kitchen, while she was preparing the meal, and then took off. His ruminations were interrupted as his eldest came into the room.

"Morning." Scott said softy joining the two quiet men at the table. "I see Maria was busy." He commented trying to be polite and sociable towards Vega.

"Morning son," Murdoch replied in kind, while Vega just smugly nodded, while sipping on his coffee.

"She must have thought she was going to feed a army." Scott joked without smiling. Scott couldn’t muster up a smile if he wanted to, not while the pompous man, sitting before him, was still in his home.

"The amount your little brother eats, it’s like feeding an army." Murdoch added to make small talk, though he had lost his appetite, the food didn’t seem nearly as enticing without Johnny’s presence. The knot of apprehension in his stomach also effectively curbed his hunger.

The mere mention of Johnny made Vega stiffen. Murdoch’s shrewd eye caught the uneasy body language. All to quickly he laid it off to last night’s heated confrontation, and let it slide.

The atmosphere at the table was brooding, the tension killing all desire to communicate. The three men sat in the sullen silence, sipping at, or staring into their cups, until Jelly came busting into the room in a huff.

"Morning Boss, Scott, I hate to intrude, but will ya tell Johnny to get out of bed, and hurry up!" The old handy man blurted out with heated discontent, "I’ve waited fer nearly two hours now, we have that dam that needs fixin’."

"What do you mean, Jelly?" Murdoch asked anxiously, "I thought he had already left."

"No, boss, his horse is still in the stable, and not nearly ready to go." Jelly replied confused.

In the split second it took him to process the information and to swallow his heart, Scott bolted from his seat and ran up the staircase taking three treads with each stride. He hollered for Johnny as he raced towards his room, "JOHHNY!"

Vega remained in his chair trying to appear normal. Stress made his body betray him, as he slightly trembled, and small sweat beads started forming on his brow. With a shaky hand he pulled out a fancy monogrammed handkerchief, wiping his face, hoping no one would see how nervous he was. A few seconds later Scott came barreling down the stairs, sheer panic written all over his face.

"Johnny never went to bed, it was still made." Scott said in one breath, worry raising his voice an octave. He leaned against the table as he struggled to catch his breath and calm his anxieties. "I know he was up, when I went to bed because I heard him moving around…I just let him be though, I thought he needed some time alone." Scott informed his father.

"Odd." Vega mumbled and then wished he had not, as he became the center of attention.

The three men looked at each other, and then back at the stocky autocratic man. They noted how his hands shook as he tried to drink his coffee, and act like all was normal. Neither of them had trusted this man from the beginning, and then it struck them like a bolt from the blue, as if they could read each other’s minds. They turned and advanced on the man.

Roberto Vega paled, as it felt like the chair he sat upon abruptly disappeared from under him, and he was suspended in mid-air. His teeth rattled as a pair of huge angry hands shook him like a rag doll. Murdoch’s hot steamy breath huffed from his nostrils much like an enraged bull snorts before charging his quarry. The heat of it wrapped his cold terrified face. Vega struggled against the grip, as infuriated gray-blue eyes bored into his petrified brown ones.

"WHERE IS MY SON?" The tall rancher bellowed.

"What…what do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean!" Murdoch growled, shaking Vega until his eyes spun from dizziness, and then dropped him back down into his seat. "Johnny would never leave without telling us, let alone leave his horse behind, even if he was trying to avoid you. Something had to have happened to him, and you know…. SO TELL ME!" Murdoch hollered picking the man up by his fancy ruffled collar again.

"Murdoch, now let’s think this through," Scott interjected. "If he doesn’t tell us, then we can beat it out of him," Scott added balling up his fist to emphasize his willingness to use violence against the man. Jelly copied Scott’s actions. Vega’s eyes widened with pure fear as Murdoch shook him some more.

"Well!" Scott shouted as he thumped his fist into his other hand, each dull thud of flesh on flesh caused Vega to flinch. Vega’s breath whistled noisily from his flaring nostrils, as he tried to suck in air and think his way out of the volatile situation he was in. His beady eyes cast about the room as though looking for help, but all he saw was Scott advancing on him, looking like he was going to pummel his face until it caved in.

"They..they ha…ve.him.." He stuttered, as he fought to control his bladder.

"Who are they?" Murdoch demanded to know, dropping the man, but still towered over him, as Vega tried to make his fear rubbery legs hold him up. Vega backed up until he felt the table and leaned onto it for support. Seeing that Vega was stalling, trying his patience, Murdoch motioned for Scott and Jelly to get ready to do some serious damage.

"OK! They took him last night, I…I drugged Juan to make it easier to take him," Vega admitted. "They are mostly likely half way back to Mexico by now," he said without a trace of remorse in his voice.

"MEXICO! WHY YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHO HAS HIM?" Murdoch blew up at the mere mention of Mexico. That was the last place they wanted Johnny to be.

"ANSWER MY FATHER, OR I’LL . . ." Scott let his voice trail off, as he turned his attention towards the gun cabinet with a determined glint in his eyes.

"His name is Sanchez…Ramón Sanchez…. he’s the twin brother of Carlos Sanchez, the man Juantio killed, when he was a child."

That statement made it feel as though all the air had been sucked from the room.

Chapter Seven

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" the irate rancher loudly demanded. His tall formed towered over the smaller man, and the angry motion of his fisted hand made it look as though he would hammer Vega into the floor. Murdoch’s patience was wearing thin, he wanted answers, and now. "Who was this Carlos?" he growled, as he crowded in on Roberto and stared right into his heartless eyes. All kinds of images raced through his head, pictures that were now starting to scare the hell out of him. ‘What the hell did she put my son through?’ Murdoch asked himself.

Vega shifted nervously, backing away from the seething father; his eyes darted around the room, as his fear of the man gnawed at his belly. He viewed Murdoch as an unmovable fuming force preventing his departure from the room; he was trapped. There would be no help from Scott or Jelly either, both men looked as though they could cheerfully pound the crap out of him. Murdoch’s hot steaming breath blew down on his face making him perspire heavily; he could feel the moisture dripping from the tip of his nose. Murdoch’s hard cold blue-gray eyes were burning right through him, exposing his weaknesses. Vega took out his fancy handkerchief again, his hands trembling uncontrollably, as he struggled to wipe the sweat from his wrinkled brow.

"He…he is the man Maria was living with…the one who killed her." Vega stuttered, and then suddenly it dawned on him, his head snapped up, the surprise plain on his face, as he questioned Murdoch, "You did not know?"

"NO! I did not know, but you’re going to tell me . . . everything, right!" Murdoch ordered, his expression showing nothing but pure shock and determination to get to the bottom of things. His mind whirled with chaotic confusion as he tried to absorb the news he had just been told. Johnny never really went into much detail about his childhood; he knew that his son didn’t want to remember that part of his life for many reasons. Every time he had tired to talk to Johnny about his past, he would shrug it off as not important, or change the subject, but his eyes always revealed his pain. So Murdoch would just let it ride, he figured he would talk if he needed too, now he wished he had pressed for details.

"Well, we’re waiting." Scott snarled, his impatience showing, as he moved menacingly closer.

Roberto slowly sat up from his slumped position, when Murdoch finally moved back to give the man room to move, and think. "He was a bandito, but I swear I did not know this until it was too late," Vega explained. "Maria had written me saying she had found a good man to care for her and Juan, and not to worry about her." He paused, licking his lips fretfully, as the Lancer men looked on, " And…and not to bother to send the money she had asked for…"

"So you lied to us, to Johnny, you said she would not come home unless you sent the money. Now you are saying this," Scott angrily interrupted. "Which one is the truth? And I suggest you proceed with caution, as we are in no mood to entertain anymore of your LIES!"

"Both, Señor. As I was saying, Maria changed her mind, she didn’t want me to find her," he anxiously ran frantic fingers through his hair. "I did not hear from her again, but later I was told that Carlos, had led a horrendous and bloody raid on the village, and Maria was one of his victims." He stopped to gather his thoughts, and winced at the awkward silence that weighed down the air in the room.

"You said Johnny killed this man Carlos, how?" Murdoch wanted to know as he was still trying to come to terms with the tragedies his son endured. He moved over to the couch and sank down, as the tension in his rigid body snapped and he began to tremble as much from fear for his son, as anger at Vega.

"As I was told, Juanito had shot Carlos with his own gun, after the man had killed his Mama. He must have witnessed it, killed Carlos and then ran away." Vega reflected.

"How do you know this?" Scott asked, his voice shaky, as his mind raced with visions of his little brother terrorized by the sight of his murdered mother. A horror that was too gruesome for him to ever truly image or understand.

"I was told after the raid, Carlos’ men went looking for him. They found him lying dead next to Maria’s bloodied body, and there were small bloody footprints leading out of the house…Juanito’s footprints. They knew it was him because…." he paused not knowing how to say what he had to say, there was no way to make it sound less heinous.

"Because what?" Murdoch demanded, his heart racing, afraid to hear the answer.

Vega looked at the tall rancher, hesitant at first to answer, but he knew there was no other way to say it, so he just blurted it out. "Because Juan was the only child left alive…it was a massacre, Senor. The whole village was burned and the people murdered where they stood. But some how Juan escaped it, he was the only survivor that day. They followed the tracks Juan left, but they could not find him. That is how they knew it was him, Maria’s niño." Vega finished

Both Jelly and Scott stood there in utter disbelief and unadulterated horror. The color drained from their faces, leaving them a ghostly white. Murdoch felt his own heart breaking, shattering into sharp shards of pain that pierced his soul and left it bleeding. His son was the sole survivor of an unmerciful act of pure evil, the apocalyptic destruction of his world. It’s no wonder he couldn’t find him, he was a totally alone, scared, running for his life. Murdoch closed his eyes, as he fought back the warm moisture that welled in them, and threatened to spill.

"When Carlos’ men told Ramon, he vowed to one day get revenge on Juantio. That is why I’m here, but I had no choice," Vega’s voice hitched as he fought his own emotions. "Ramon knew who his brother was living with, and the name of her child. And when he found out that I was Maria’s brother, he contacted me. He asked if I knew where Juan was, and I told him I did not. I…I told him that a mestizo was not welcome in my home, just so they would leave me alone. I have not heard from Sanchez since then, until now." Roberto panted as he battled the fear that assaulted his body.

"Go on." Scott whispered.

"He came to my hacienda, and took it over, told me to find Madrid, and bring him back to him…"

"Now wait a minute!" Murdoch finally spoke up, coming out of his trance. "How did he know that Johnny was Madrid, in fact . . . how did you know it?" He demanded as he came to his feet, swaying slightly on shaky legs.

"Maria, she told me of you, and your name. While he was looking for Juan, Ramon found an old padre who knew him after the raid, and remembered that he had changed it to Madrid, the Gunfighter." Vega paled, as he informed the men, " He holds my two boys hostage, Senor, until I bring him Madrid. I had no choice. Don’t you see that?"

"LANCER! His name is Lancer now, not Madrid," Murdoch clarified to the man. "And what do you mean you had no choice! You sold out your own nephew, what kind of man are you?" Murdoch’s rage grew and rumbled like a brewing storm, "You sent MY SON to his death!" he thundered.

"He is Madrid, Señor, a killer, who lost his soul when he killed Carlos. My boys are only sixteen and eighteen, they have never hurt a soul, they are good boys, but Juan he’s a…." He didn’t get a chance to finish his slanderous remarks; Scott grabbed him by the collar, his fingers clenching so tight it pinched the skin of his neck. He shook Vega until he whimpered in fear, and then threw him roughly to the floor.

"My brother is not the cold-hearted killer you all think he is. Johnny had to kill the man out of self-defense, or be killed himself." Scott shouted, and then added grimly, "My God he was only a boy! A boy who saw his mother killed, what the hell did you think he would do? Those men, like Sanchez, took my brother’s childhood away from him. They forced him to become a man, to defend himself anyway possible, and he got real good at it too." Scott added proudly, even though his heart ached at the path his little brother had to take.

"That is what he told me before I…."

"Before you drugged him, and had him taken away, you bastard!" Murdoch shouted, "I’m tired of this bullshit. Jelly tell the men to get ready, we ride in ten minutes." The old handy man was still in total shock at the events he just heard about, and didn’t move fast enough so Murdoch bellowed, "Jelly!"

"I’m…I’m on it boss," Jelly said, as he leveled a look of unmitigated disgust on Vega and then took off mumbling in agitation.

"And tell the Captain, I want to see him. I’m placing YOU, Senor Vega under house arrest until I get my son back."

Chapter Eight

"HOUSE ARREST? How dare you suggest such a thing!" Vega shouted angrily. "I must go to my children," he demanded. "They need me, I must go…I," his words trailed off as he started to walk towards the front door. Vega took two steps before he felt an iron grip on his arm, snatching him back until he collided with the table. He swallowed convulsively, as he turned to face his attacker. His eyes widened with pure unadulterated fear, a sense of dread crawled over his skin making him feel like he would come out of it. The tall rancher towered over him; Murdoch’s large calloused hand was locked on his arm in a tight vise like hold. The power in the clench pinched his tender skin painfully, causing him to cringe. He trembled, as he noted the bloodthirsty look in Murdoch’s eyes, the thirst for his blood.

"NO! How dare you, you self-righteous bastard! You have sent my son to his death, if I don’t get to him in time." Murdoch growled, as he shook the terrified little man, causing his head to bobble. He wanted to wring the preening, over-grown chicken’s neck, to violently and painfully separate his head from his body. Instead he bit back the feelings of revenge, for now, his concern for Johnny far out weighed the need for retribution. "How do I know if you even have any children, that you aren’t just using that as an excuse to get away with what you have done. NO, YOU ARE STAYING PUT!" Murdoch emphasized his point with another teeth rattling shake.

Captain Davis entered the room, "You wanted to see me, Mr. Lancer?" he asked, addressing Murdoch politely. The officer was very curious about the yelling he had heard and the physical confrontation, he had witnessed, as he walked through the front door. He detected the blush of embarrassment on Vega’s face and noted how the man’s trembling body betrayed his attempts of preserving his aristocratic demeanor. The man was frightened and it showed. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, Captain, I’m placing Senor Vega, here, under house arrest." Murdoch informed the man. "He is NOT to leave the ranch, or this house, until I get back with my son." Murdoch sternly ordered, as he rammed his index finger repeatedly into Vega’s chest as he punctuated each point.

"Your son, Sir?"

"Yes, it seems that the Señor came here with criminal intentions . . . to have my son Johnny kidnapped." he explained while grabbing his hat and gun belt. "So I’m putting him under citizen’s arrest, until I get back. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Lancer, and sir, I’m sorry, if I had known Vega’s intentions I…"

"It’s ok Captain, we were all fooled! Please make yourself comfortable while you keep a eye on this…this pathetic excuse for a man, who is going to be very sorry when I’m done with him," Murdoch exclaimed sharply as he donned his hat. He glared at the man, as he buckled on his gun belt, and made a show of checking the chambers with the gun pointed towards Vega. Murdoch tore out of the house like a tornado on a rampage; he slammed the door with such force it bounced back open with a bang, the vibrations of it ringing in everyone’s ears. Murdoch joined Scott, Frank, Cipriano, and a few others, as they raced off westward. Cipriano had detected signs that indicated that was the direction the kidnappers had gone. All the men had a determined set to their jaws, each praying silently they would reach the youngest Lancer in time.

"MY CHILDREN!" Vega screamed, as he ran to the window, his hot breath fogging the glass as he panted frantically, watching the posse ride off.

The Captain rolled his eyes, and shook his head, and then walked over to the man, and pulled him away from the window. "You heard Mr. Lancer, you are not going anywhere, Señor," the Captain said in a disgusted tone. "I suggest you go and sit down and behave yourself. I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while." The man was not pleased with this turn of events, he was an officer in the United States Army, not a tour guide or baby sitter of arrogant assholes, as he had been for the past weeks.

"Hey you, Madrid, wake up!" ordered the tall skinny man, giving Johnny a rough shove with his foot.

"Jose, maybe Vega gave him too much, eh? Maybe he is dead?" the smaller one said.

Jose knelt down next to Johnny’s still form. Johnny was curled into a fetal position, with his hands and feet bound tightly together. Jose’s dirty bony fingers touched his neck, feeling for a pulse. "He’s alive, just playing possum, eh Madrid, one of your tricks, huh?" he said shoving Johnny almost onto his back, but he still didn’t move. He rolled limply into the same position. His swollen and discolored hands were tucked under his chin.

"I said wake up!" Jose shouted, as he stood up, and put all his weight behind a vicious kick to Johnny’s right thigh. He smirked when Johnny flinched in pain, even though he was still unconscious, he moved slightly trying to avoid the pain.

The impact of the man’s pointed boot striking his leg, and the delayed sensation of a sharp pain shooting up his side began to pull him from the blackness of unawareness. His senses were rousing, his alertness returning, as the drug Vega slipped him wore off. Johnny let out a slight moan; he fought to open his eyes, rapidly blinking to clear his vision. His mouth was gummy and dry, with a vile taste to it. He tasted the bitter tang of bile and realized he must have vomited at some point.

"Wat..er" Johnny muttered.

"Water, eh." Jose snorted, "I’ll give you water, Madrid." He grabbed a bucket from under the tree, and then poured it over Johnny's head. The water was filthy and smelled stagnant; it cascaded over his face and practically drowned Johnny. His breath was ripped away as the fluid filled mouth and nose. At first he gagged, spitting the water out of his mouth, and then coughed violently. He shook his head to clear the moisture out of his eyes and ears; the action made him dizzy, and caused his head to throb in time with his heartbeat. He forced himself to take slow deep breaths, until the sensation passed, as he laid there, his head resting on a patch of mud.

"Wh…ere am …I"

"You on your way to hell!" the shorter man replied, with an evil chuckle. The small man had a short mustache that twitched when he talked, where as Jose’s was a handlebar one. Both men were of Mexicans descent, though it was hard to tell the hue of their skin, as they were so filthy. The rank smell of their dirty clothes, and un-washed bodies, caused Johnny’s empty stomach to lurch and spasm in protest the closer they got to him. Their scent was over powering, and it stung his nostrils as it wafted his way.

"Where’s that?" He asked, holding his breath, turning his head away from the vile smell of the men.

"You’re going back to Mexico, Madrid." Jose informed him, his eyes glittered with maniacal madness.

Johnny’s head shot up, confusion and pain dulled the blue eyes that tried to focus on his captors. "What the hell do you want from me?" he asked, as he tried to sit up, but his head was still woozy from the drug that Vega had slipped into his drink. This impaired his balance and he sprawled back over before he ever got upright. He winced as the hard landing sent spirals of pain radiating across his chest. His thoughts went back to Lancer and that bastard who called himself his tio. Rolling over onto his back, Johnny waiting for the dizziness to pass, and for an answer to his question.

"It is not us who wants you, Madrid, it’s our amigo, our boss," Jose answered. "He is most anxious to meet you. Isn’t that right, Diego?"

"Sí, and he has plans for you." Diego replied, grinning and exposing his yellow broken teeth, as he stooped and grabbed Johnny’s chin. He squeezed his face, his fingers biting cruelly into the soft flesh of Johnny’s cheeks. The pressure grew until he felt the tender skin in his mouth being cut by his own teeth. When Johnny fought against the restraining hand, Jose lashed out with his booted foot, right into the ribs that were still sore from being slung over the saddle on the ride away from Lancer. Then they both laughed, and walked away, leaving Johnny lying there, limbs still bound, gasping for breath, as his chest ached with each inhalation, blood stained his lips from the torn skin inside his mouth, and finger sized bruises decorated his face.

After a few minutes had passed, Johnny glanced over, to see both men were indulging themselves with some tequila and tortillas. He saw this as a chance to try and sit up again. Luckily both his hands were tied in front of him, instead in back, so he used them to push himself up, to lean against the tree. Another wave of dizziness hit him and he sat there while the world spun around him, colors whirled into bewildering blobs and sounds combined into a loud baffling buzz. Johnny silently cursed Vega, ‘What the hell did he give me?’ When the dazed sensations began to abate, he could hear the rushing of water from a near by creek, that might just help him lose these bastards, if he could get free. ‘Got to get out of here,’ he thought as he fought his shackles and injuries.

With a watchful eye, he slowly leaned forward over his knees, and franticly tried to untie the ropes, that had his feet bound, with numb and swollen fingers. He had worked for a few scant seconds when the ominous click of a gun being cocked, rang threateningly in his ear, he turned his head and found himself staring down the barrel of Jose’s colt.

"You’re not going nowhere, Madrid."

Chapter Nine

The tin cup sailed across the room, an arch of steaming hot coffee trailing from the opening, it hit the wall with a metallic thud, and the remaining bitter brew within splattered, and scattered like black raindrops. The cup bounced from the wall, seemed to defy gravity for a second, and then dropped to the floor with a hollow echo. The abused cup rocked to a stop, with a new dent added to its already bashed and dinged form.

"HE DID WHAT?" hollered Val, his temper exploding like a short fused firecracker. His eyes bulged out, his face turned a brilliant shade of red, as the emotions of anger and disgust warred across his features. "I might have known . . . that no good SON OF A BITCH!" Val loudly growled out the last few words, while pounding his fist on the desk. "I knew something was fishy with Senor Vega!" he snorted like a mad bull. "Where is he?" he asked, clenching and unclenching his hands, as he wished he could do around that neck of that slimy worm Vega.

"He is under house arrest, the Captain is seeing that he stays put until we get back." Murdoch stated with strong conviction about his decision. "I would like it if you would stop by the ranch occasionally to check up on our reluctant guest," he requested of the furious Sheriff. "Put the fear of the law in him, make sure he knows that he isn’t going to get away with this." Murdoch smiled, knowing Val would be glad to help.

"Oh I would be more than happy to oblige, and if he happens to get out of line…" the voice trailed off, and was replaced with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, as he balled one hand into a fist, and repeatedly struck the palm of the other. Val snorted with a devilish grin, that bared the mouth full of white teeth, much like an angry dog would reveal their fangs to an enemy.

"You just get my buddy boy back in on piece, you hear? I wish I could go with you," he said miserably, "But I can’t trust that deputy of mine to hold down the fort, but I’ll keep an eye on Señor Vega for you."

"Thanks, Val, I knew we could count on you." Scott said despondently. The blond was so distracted by his dismal and bleak thoughts, he didn’t even hear Val ask him where they were going next.

"South, I sent Cip, and the others on ahead, while Scott and I stopped here first to let you what’s going on, then we’ll catch up with them." Murdoch answered for his preoccupied son. "I don’t know how much of a head start they got, Vega didn’t really go into details. He claims he doesn’t know the particulars, " he replied while putting his hat back on. "With any luck, they just might come across those bastards who took my son, before we get there." Murdoch added with undisguised hope in his voice.

"Well, I sure hope so, God only knows what they’ll do to him, once…." Val words faded away." He shuttered, he knew all to well how sadistic and torturous the treatment could be, he had seen it back in his younger days, when he spent time down there in that hell hole.

"They get him back to Mexico?" Scott finished for the Sheriff, his voice full of anger, and anguish. "I pray that Johnny can hold up, until we find him, no matter what they do to him." Scott said sadly. The gruff Sheriff knew this was hard on Scott, and his heart was breaking for the young man, it was obvious he had come to love his new found brother.

Val walked over to the worried young man, putting his hands on his broad shoulders, shaking them slightly. "Hey, I know my buddy, and he knows that you will be looking for him, so he will hold on." Val attempted to reassure Scott, "I have never seen Johnny so happy, since he came home, why he even said having a big brother was the best thing that ever happened to him, when ya ain’t picking on him that is." He added with a crooked grin.

Scott couldn’t help but smile, "He said that?"

"Sure he did, and he doesn’t want to give that up either, so he’ll hang on, just go and find him." Val quickly turned to walk away, not wanting them to see that he was getting all teary-eyed.

"We’ll find him, Val, if it’s the last thing I ever do." Murdoch replied.

"If it’s the last thing WE ever do," Scott corrected his father.

"Well hell, then stop the jawing and get on out there, and find my buddy!" Val ordered.

After the two Lancer men rode away, in a flurry of dust and hooves, to catch up with the rest of the search party, Val returned to his desk, flopping down in the chair, leaning back. He let out a heavy hearted sigh, he looked up to the ceiling, as he sucked in a breath, and then with sad begging eyes, did something he hadn’t done in a long time, he prayed.

"Howdy, Lord, I bet you’re shock to hear from me, huh? I know I ain’t no church going man, but I was raised to be a God fearing man. I done a lot that I’m not proud of, but here I am needing a favor from ya," Val said softly, rubbing his stinging eyes. "I’m not asking fer myself, it’s my buddy, Johnny, he needs ya. He needs the strength to hold on, until his papa gets to him, kin ya help him? Please?" He finished praying, and sat there like he was waiting for a answer. Suddenly a warm feeling washed over him and Val took that as a yes, then he sadly smiled, nodding, "Thank ye, kindly."

***********

The sound of the distance water fall, and bubbling creek, that he had heard earlier, was drowned out by the loud painful ringing in his ears. The darkness crept in, stealing the light from his vision until the two ugly figures before him slowly faded away , and then there was nothing. Johnny lay, slumped over like a rag doll, limbs still bound, this time with a large goose egg knot on the back of his head, with a trace of sticky red blood seeping through his thick dark hair.

"You estupido! What did you do that for, eh?" Diego hollered at his friend.

"Because he was trying to escape." Jose snapped back and grinned devilishly. "Ramon, didn’t say we had to be nice to the mestizo bastardo," he retorted, as he was looking down at unconscious young man, and then holstered the gun, he had used on Johnny’s head. "Carlos was our amigo too, do not forget that."

"Sí, but he wants Madrid alive, so he can have the pleasure of killing him himself." Diego reminded the man. "But you’re right, he did kill our amigo, nino or no nino, he still killed him," he growled, then giving a swift kick to Johnny ribcage. They both laughed harshly, and then walked away. They sat back down by the fire, as they continued to gorge out on their meal.

Night was falling, and with a good day ahead of the search party, they knew would be coming after Madrid, they both decided to stay put and head out in to morning. Each would take a turn watching the bound gun-hawk, and taking pleasure in tormenting him just a little, for their own self-indulgence, until they had to turn Johnny over to Ramon. Then Madrid would die, at the hands of a very vengeful brother.

Chapter Ten

Cipriano sat alone by the campfire, slumped in abject misery, his face buried in his hands, as if to hide his shame. His disappointment in himself so great, that he couldn’t bring himself to even look his amigos in the eye. The few times he did raise his head, the bleak look of anguish and pain was emphasized by the flare of the flames, and then the retreating light would throw him back into the literal darkness his soul felt. "Estupido, estupido," he kept berating himself, kicking the dirt angrily with his foot, startling the others who just sat there in a daze. Johnny’s life was at stake here, and he had fallen for the oldest trick in the book, he had led the posse on a false trail. A trail made by the little pot belly man with a crooked mustache, sitting over on the other side of camp, smirking and leering with evil content, taking great pleasure in the men’s sorrow.

"Cipriano, stop blaming yourself, you had no idea they would trick us like this." Murdoch said trying to ease his friend’s mind, and his own.

Murdoch glanced over at the filthy and dirt encrusted face of the man that was used as a decoy. His heart sank deeper into the abyss of despair that threatened to consume him, as he thought about the time they had lost following him. It was a very clever way to distract the search party. They thought they were catching up with the ones who took Johnny, when in reality it was just him and two pack horses, taking their sweet time. The grungy heathen sat there by the campfire laughing his head off at the group of men. He taunted them about their expressions when they finally caught up with him. He howled in pleasure about their disappointment, and the anger on their faces, when they realized they had been tricked. It was too late to go on to find the right trail tonight, so they quickly subdued the little rat, and took over his camp.

"Patron," Cipriano spoke up, his voice thick and heavy with remorse, "By now they will have reached Mexico, and we have yet to even find the right trail." His face paled, and he grimaced, as though the pain of his failure was like a razor cut on his soul.

"Ah, Sí, and before Ramon gets done with him, Madrid will be begging to be shot," the beady eyed bandit said, cackling maniacally through his yellow teeth. "Ramon don’t take kindly to those who murdered his familia."

Murdoch’s blood pressure had reached the boiling point, his patience now nonexistent. He wanted answers and he wanted them now! Springing up with agility and speed that were enhanced and fueled by anger and fear, the concerned father stormed over to the laughing man. He jerked the man up by his dirty collar, tearing and ripping the rotted material, as he tightened it around his neck, choking him, while he shook the man with enough force to rattle his teeth. "For the last time, WHERE DID THEY TAKE MY SON?" he growled loudly, gnashing his teeth in the man’s face like an enraged bear, "WHERE IS VEGA’S RANCHO?"

The dirty, foul smelling man’s eyes bulged as he fought to breathe, the big rancher loosened his grip, and he gulped air greedily, but still refused to answer Murdoch’s question. He could feel pure fear and desperation coming from the rancher, as Murdoch trembled while holding him aloft; and this pleased him immensely. To hurt and torture Madrid’s family, like Johnny had done to Ramon years ago when he killed Carlos, just made the little devil enjoy this even more. The burning pain in his heart and back told Murdoch he had to let go of the bastard, so he roughly dropped him back to the ground. The big rancher towered over him like the shadow of death; he wanted so much to shoot the man for costing them precious time.

"You’re not going to get anything from him, sir," Scott said, "So, I suggest we shoot him, and be done with it." Scott added with a smirk, as he drew his gun and forcibly planted it in the man’s chest until he winced at the pressure.

"Believe me, Scott. I would love to put a bullet in his cold heart, but we just might need him yet, for a sacrificial lamb," Murdoch harshly replied, loud enough for the brainless rat to hear. "Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We have long hard road ahead of us."

"I’ll try, but I doubt I will," Scott glumly replied, holstering his gun. "You’ll try to get some rest too, sir?" He softly asked his father. Murdoch just nodded.

"Hey hombre, you can sleep all you want, but it will not help you find Madrid…alive," the man yelled over to the Lancer men, taunting them with his cruel words. "Madrid will a have a nice long sleep, eh?"

"SHUT UP!" Cipriano roared as he leapt up from the log and charged across the camp. By the time he reached the Lancers, the steely reserve was shining in his eyes, he stood ramrod straight and proud, and declared, "We will find Juanito, and alive."

"Eh, you are a trader, a gringo lover, you let them fool you," the bandit kept taunting. "You know our people, banditos, huh? We do not show mercy. Madrid is a dead man, but first Ramón will have fun with him, and then put the mestizo out of his misery," he finished squealing with laughter, and holding on to his fat belly as it shook. His humor ended abruptly with a loud pop, a grunt and thud.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Cipriano yelled, as he rubbed his fist with a satisfying grin of his own, while he looked down at the unconscious, worthless varmint, he had just cold cocked. Scott and Murdoch looked on amazed at the show of compassion Cip had displayed for his friends by silencing the loud mouth man for them.

"Thanks Cip, I couldn’t have done any better." Scott smirked brightly, "Now that it’s quiet, maybe I can get some sleep." He then bid night to his father, "Night, sir."

"Night, son." Murdoch said, and then looked at Cipriano, he could tell something was on his mind. "What is it Cipriano? What are you thinking about?"

"Patron, I must scout ahead, and see if I can find a trail or lead," he answered, anxious to do something other than just sitting around and waiting until light.

"Cip, it’s too dark, you can’t see well enough to spot tracks." Murdoch reasoned with his friend. "How will you know where to look?"

"I have the moon as my light, Señor, por favor I must, I can’t sleep anyway," the old trusted foreman pleaded. "That one there," he said, pointing to the knocked out bandit, I was thinking, Senor, these banditos, they are like wolves, they do not stray far from the pack. He did not lead us too far off, just enough to give his amigos time to take Juan out of our reach."

Murdoch let out a heavy sigh, "Ok, but be back by first light, no matter if you have found something or not, understand?"

"Sí, Patron, I will." Cipriano agreed, and took off to ready his horse for a night of tracking. He silently prayed to find signs as to where they had taken Johnny. There was a full moon that night, shining through the trees, and casting moon shadows over the camp. Its ethereal light providing a slim ray of hope to the tired and desperate man…..desperate to find Johnny….. Alive.

Chapter Eleven

"Señor Vega, will you please sit down!" Captain Davis snapped harshly at the agitated man nervously pacing back at forth in front of the fireplace, like a caged animal. His heavy footfalls drummed a rhythm that was out of synchronization with the loud tick tock beat of the grandfather clock, filling what should have been a relaxing silence with an unrelenting, repetitive sound. He would stop long enough to check the time, and mumble to himself in Spanish, and then continue his endless marching. This irritated the hell of the Captain, his patience was wearing thin. He was trying desperately to concentrate on a book he thought he might enjoy, but he had been so distracted by the man’s ranting and pacing, it had caused him to read the same sentence over and over. "You’re giving me a damn headache, now please sit DOWN, or I‘ll hogtie you to that CHAIR!" Davis threatened, angrily tossing the book down on the coffee table. He wished he was back at the fort, rather than here babysitting this bastard.

"I can’t, I am much too worried to sit. Why don’t they realize, they will not find Juanito in time?" Vega’s blunt statement vibrated in the room like the toll of a death bell. His voice showed no signs of remorse, whatsoever. "Therefore, I must go back to my rancho, my sons they need me," he desperately proclaimed. The loud gong of sound as the clock struck the hour; caused him to jerk, as if struck by an invisible hand. He burrowed a trembling hand into his pocket and withdrew his fancy hanky. He used the fine piece of silk to mop his sweaty, wrinkled brow, and the back of his thick neck. Captain Davis smirked as he imagined his hands around his short neck, squeezing the fleshy column until the man turned blue and his eyes popped out.

Vega noticed the look of sadistic glee on the officer’s face, and it made him twitch with nervous apprehension. He felt compelled to loosen up his stiff collar, as his eyes shifted back and forth from the Captain and the front door. He taxed his brain trying to find a way to escape his scrutiny. "It is too hot in here, I need some air." He slyly stated, and hastily started for the door.

Captain Davis shot out of the chair he had been comfortably sitting in, he hurried after his prisoner, and then reaching out, he grabbed the weasel by his arm, roughly pulling him away from the door. He took great delight in twisting Vega’s arm up behind his back, and forcefully guiding him back into the room. Vega fought to break the tight grip of the man’s large hand around his wrist. He squealed in pain when his efforts were rewarded by an increased pressure on the appendage, which felt like it would crush his bones.

"I have my orders, so you’re staying put!" The Captain growled in Roberto’s ear. His hot breath and stern voice caused a tingle of fear to crawl up Vega’s spine. "I feel I must remind you, Senor, you are under house arrest until the Lancers get back. "NOW SIT DOWN!" Davis shouted, as he kicked Vega’s feet out from under him, and pushed him down violently into the chair.

"BUT MY SONS!" Roberto hollered. "It has been three days, Juan is dead by now! I have to go to my…"

Vega and Davis’ confrontation was interrupted by the sudden explosive noise of china plates crashing to the hard tile floor, thrown there by an angry Teresa. The shattering ring of the breaking glass echoed throughout the room. The two men whipped their heads around to find a very upset Teresa standing there, her big brown eyes swimming with tears, and running in streams down her pale face. She had entered the area with the dishes, intending to set the table, and instead had overheard the conversation between the two men. The shock of Vega’s bold claims that her brother was dead, had hit her like a ton of bricks.

Teresa had arrived home on the evening of the same day that Murdoch and Scott had taken off to search for Johnny. She found her home invaded by these arrogant people, and Captain Davis and his men camped outside. She had demanded an explanation, as to what was going on, and had stood there frozen in fear, and mortified by the revelation. She didn’t want to believe what she was hearing, that her brother had been kidnapped, and taken back to Mexico! She didn’t understand how this could be, but yet she was assured it was true.

In her upset state, Teresa had run to her room, slamming the door, and then throwing herself upon the bed, and cried. She had refused to leave the sanctuary of her room for several hours. As if it were not bad enough these people had brought danger down on Johnny’s head, Mrs. Vega had had the gall to try to school her in the proper way to set the table, and cook her husband’s food, as if Teresa was their servant. Teresa had borrowed a dose of stubborn Lancer, and had adamantly rejected any of the woman’s high handed advice, instead she and Maria plowed ahead, running the household with their normal routine.

Teresa glared coldly at the pompous peacock of a man, shaking off the momentary immobility, she stormed forward, her boots crunching and crushing the bits of dishes at her feet. Upon reaching Vega she drew back her hand and slapped his smug face, leaving a vivid red handprint. "HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT? JOHNNY IS NOT DEAD! Teresa screamed at the bastard. "You have a lot of nerve to call yourself Johnny’s Tio. You know nothing about being family, because real family doesn’t sell each other out. She punctuated each word with a vicious jab, to his heartless chest, with her finger. "You do not know him like we do, he is stronger than you think, he will survive," she said with strong, passionate conviction. "Murdoch will not stop until he finds Johnny. And when they get home, they will make you sorry you helped those thieving bandits."

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?" Val shouted, as he rushed through the French doors to find out what the problem was, after hearing the loud shouting from outside. He frowned when he saw Teresa standing there shaking, wiping her tears with her apron hem. "Why is Teresa so upset?" he demanded to know, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

Without hesitation, Teresa ran into Val’s strong arms, holding on to him, as though for dear life. She broke away and looked up at his scruffy face and pleaded, "Tell him, Val, tell him that Johnny is not dead. Please!" She buried her head back into the comfort of his shoulder. "Tell him that he will be ok" she added her voice muffled by the rumpled shirt.

"Why sure he will be, honey." Val soothingly replied, giving Vega a threatening glare, as he held Teresa, rubbing her dark head trying to comfort the distraught girl. "My buddy is too mule-headed to let those bastards get the best of him, no sir-ree, Johnny is a survivor." Val added. He had to believe that, no matter what his heart was telling him, Johnny didn’t survive all those years as Madrid for nothing. Hopefully his amigo wouldn’t prove him wrong this time, either.

"Señor Sheriff, you do not know these banditos, they are heartless ruthless hombres’, Juanito does not stand a chance. I am quite sure he is dead by now." Vega heartlessly announced.

"STOP SAYING THAT!" Teresa shrieked, as she pushed off from Val. Sobbing inconsolably she bolted to her room, the men jumped at the hard slamming of her door, that rattled the pictures on the nearby wall.

"My sons need me; we must go back and. . . " Vega said again, repeating himself for the umpteenth time within the hour, making him sound like a drunken parrot.

Val cut his words off by grabbing his stiff collar, twisting the material until it tightened around Vega’s neck. "You ain’t going nowhere, you no account sorry son of a bitch!" Val snarled in Vega’s shocked face, snorting like a mad bull, ready to trample his prey. "You sent your own nephew back to that hell-hole, and you’re staying put to answer for it." The irate sheriff emphasized his ire by shaking the man brutally. Val snorted to himself as he wondered if the man’s pea sized brain would rattle loose and roll out of his ear.

"BUT!"

"No buts! And what makes you so sure that your rancho and sons will still be there when you get back?" Val asked snidely, pointing out the cold hard reality to the ignorant man. "If those banditos are as deadly as you claim they are, HUH!" Val let go of the man’s collar, his toothy grin showing his pleasure in the horror that was suddenly plastered on Vega’s face.

"Do not say that!" Ana shouted, as she entered the room, her face showing the same emotion, as her husband’s, over Val’s words. "My children will be ok, they promised," she insisted. She quickly went to her husband, taking his trembling hand into hers. "Roberto?" she pleaded with worried eyes, begging for reassurance.

"With all due respect, ma-am, your husband said that they would kill at a drop of a hat. Those men are outlaws, murderers, thieves …they rape and plunder. What about that makes you believe they are men of their word? I’m sorry to inform you, their actions don’t scream honesty to me." The Captain sadly commented.

"But they gave us their word, Ramon himself promised." She reiterated, denying the Captain’s words. "He said, he would not harm them, until they…he has Juanito…." her voice trailed off weakly, as she realized what she had just said. It dawned on her that there would be no reason for them to honor their word; the horror of that realization wounded her soul deep. Roberto’s hand tightened around her small one, as he came to the same conclusion. His face portrayed the defeated and foolish man, he had become. "No," he whispered despairingly, staring off into space, "What have I done?" Vega dropped to his knees, placing his hands over his face to hide his shame.

"Once he has Johnny, he will not give a rat’s ass about that promise." Val grimly confirmed. "Senor, you are a fool," Val declared, looking down at the cowering defeated man.

The room went deadly quiet. It was as though the world had stopped spinning, time ceased to exist. It was apparent to all; they were going to need a miracle, as the lives of not only Johnny but those two innocent young boys, now hung over Vega’s head, and in the hands of a heartless murderer.

***************

"There it is, Madrid," Jose announced with a devilish delight, as he pointed to the big body of water in front of them. "The Rio Grande, and Mexico, very soon now, Ramon will have his revenge." The grungy man slithered like a snake over to Johnny, and roughly grabbed him by the back the head, raising it up for him to see. They were taking no chances of Johnny escaping, so they had tied him to the horse, belly down like a corpse.

Johnny had to force his eyes open, taking short shallow breaths, as his ribs throbbed and burned from the pressure of the saddle rubbing and cutting into them. His torso had already been abused from the beating he had suffered at the hands of Jose and Diego, before being trussed up on his horse. His head felt like it was twice the size because of the blood rushing to it. He tried to focus on the sight, before him, he let out a heavy painful sigh. ‘God no,’ he silently cried. Just a quick ride across the river, and he would be back in the place he vowed to never return to, a place that forced him to become Madrid. Johnny knew he had to hang on, he knew this time his father would know where to look for him. He was certain that no matter what, Murdoch Lancer would not give up on him, not by a long shot.

"Take one last look at it, Madrid, for soon you will die, huh?" Jose said, laughing in Johnny face.

"We’ll….see," Johnny replied, with a confidence, not even the pain could override.

Chapter Twelve

Mexico’s harsh, desolate climate was much hotter and drier than California’s. The absence of green vegetation made the scenery appear less desirable, brown, and shriveled up from the lack of water. Whereas back home they had sufficient, and frequent rain showers, especially during the winter months, and that along with the runoff from the mountains, usually fed the valley with enough water to keep it green. The breezes that flowed from the upper altitudes down into the valley gave the air a refreshing quality with a sweet aroma.

The infrequent rains this portion of Mexico received did little to relieve the inhospitable conditions. What minuscule amounts that fell were quickly soaked up by the barren, cracked landscape. The earth greedily sucked the moisture down into its hard pack dirt, like water disappearing into a thirsty sponge. It’s was near impossible to scratch a living out of land not worth a plug nickel in most parts. The air was arid, and full of dust from dirt devils that had been whipped up by the hot dry winds, clogging man and beast’s nostrils with the suffocating sand. The warm fetid winds also spread unclean particles throughout the land, filling it with sickness, from diseased animals’ carcasses. Filth covered all surfaces and rock, alike.

Into this uninviting, and bleak conditions traveled the evil men with a kidnapped and abused Johnny Lancer. The bastards had Johnny tied up, and belly down on the horse. They all trudged wearily under the unmerciful Mexican sun, which was becoming more and more unbearable, as its intense rays beat down on his raw, tender back. Johnny’s skin felt like it was on fire, baking to a crisp right through his blood stained shirt, which was sticking to him like glue, tugging, ripping at his injured flesh. To make matters worse, the rocking motion of the horse, along with every dip in the path that it stepped in, forced the saddle to rub, and press further into Johnny’s bruised ribs.

Johnny hissed in agony, biting his bottom lip so hard that he drew blood. Gravity forced warm red droplets to flow towards his hairline, to be absorbed by the sweat drenched wealth of his black hair. His eyes stung from the salty moisture covering his face, and the sickening copper scent of his blood, added to the miseries of the pain that consumed his body. Waves of nausea caused his stomach to rebel along the way, emptying its self of what precious little liquid his captors had allowed him, until he brought up nothing but bile, leaving a foul taste lingering in his mouth. This was followed by dry heaves that contracted his stomach muscles into agonizing shards of pain, which squeezed the breath from his body in excruciating pants. He craved a cool drink of water.

Johnny’s head throbbed from the massive rush of blood to his brain, caused by his position of hanging across the saddle. He thought surely it would explode, as it was getting heavier, harder to lift up his face. The brilliance, of his blue eyes, was faded and dull from the dust swirls kicked up by the horse hooves, floating upwards into his eyes, adding the irritating grit of sand to the sting of sweat.

Dizziness, and more nausea battled for a prominent spot, the longer Johnny had to watch the ground pass by beneath him. He had passed out a few times, which was a blessing. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this torture. He felt like crying out, but knew it would only please his captors. He refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing that he was becoming vulnerable, and weak. He had to stay strong, no matter what, he had to stay alive. He had something he never had before when he was in danger, or his back was against the wall. He had family, someone who would move heaven and earth to find him. If he was certain of nothing else, he was sure his father and brother were on the way.

With a swift hard jerk, the horse abruptly stopped, and through the ringing in his ear, he could hear Jose and Diego talking, and laughing. Johnny struggled to raise his head to see where they were. His eyes widened in distress when he recognized where he was . . .Vega’s rancho. Johnny let out a faint moan, and closed his eyes. He dropped his head back down in disbelief, and anguish. ‘God, no,’ Johnny said to himself. This was a place he had once visited, but only from a distance, an outsider looking in, as he never had the heart, or courage to get any closer.