The Lawman

Chapter Eleven

Juanita went back into the kitchen and collapsed against Decker’s chest. He put his arms around her, extremely conscious of her plump breasts crushed against his chest.

“You did fine, Juanita, just fine.”

“Raquel, she went to the hotel. She will know that Ramon is not there.”

“She left before you told him that,” Decker said. “Don’t worry, this will all be over soon. Come on, you’ve got to add the last ingredient to the food.”

Next to the stove, on the floor, was a pile of what looked like salt, only it wasn’t. It had taken a lot of glasses to make that particular pile of “salt.”

“Come on, spoon it in,” Decker said, aware that he was telling her to do something that would kill most of the thirty men out there, all of whom he did not know. Still, he knew that if they had the chance, they would gladly kill him.

He’d do anything to avoid that.

Juanita called Paco in to help her serve the food. “You’ve got to go as fast as you can and get as many of these plates served before someone bites into theirs. Do you understand?”

“We should have more people.”

“Have you had more people in the past?”

“No.”

“Then they’d be suspicious if you did now, wouldn’t they?”

“One more wouldn’t hurt,” Juanita said, and she looked so frightened that Decker gave in, hoping it wouldn’t blow the whole deal.

“All right, get me an apron and introduce me as…as John—if anyone asks.”

They got him an apron. He took off his gunbelt, tucked his gun into his belt, and put the apron on over it.

“How many can you carry?” Juanita asked.

“How many can you?”

“Six?”

“Jesus,” he said, “give me four.”

She balanced four on his arms, two each, and then she and Paco took six apiece. That made sixteen, and there were plenty more men out there who wouldn’t get any if someone started eating too fast.

Should have thought of that before, Decker thought. He could have had Juanita put out empty plates, and then one main dish in the center of each table. That way they would have had more of a chance of getting a maximum number of bandidos before they realized something was wrong.

It was too late now. He knew which one was Gilberto, and that’s who he’d take out first when things started going.

“Let’s go.”

They went out with their plates and started doling them out. The bandidos, fresh from the trail, were all drinking beer or whiskey, and Juanita had time to go back into the kitchen and get some more plates, handing a couple quickly to Decker. Some of the men at the bar caught Paco and asked for more drinks.

They got twenty plates served before Gilberto looked suspiciously at Decker.

“Juanita!”

“Si?”

“Who is this?”

Juanita looked at Decker, who had stopped on his way back to the kitchen.

“Uh, that is John. We hired him to help out.”

“When?”

“Uh, yesterday.”

“He does not look like a waiter,” Gilberto said, looking at Decker’s boots, “and he does not dress like a waiter.”

Suddenly, the bandit leader saw the bulge beneath Decker’s apron.

“And he carries a gun? Come here—” Gilberto started, and he began to rise when suddenly there was a scream, followed by another.

Gilberto turned in the direction of the scream and saw that several of his men were yelling, clutching at their throats, or bleeding from the mouth.

“What—”

He grabbed for his gun, not knowing what was going on but knowing something was wrong, and that Decker was no waiter.

Decker went for his gun, but the hammer caught on the apron. Gilberto fired, striking Decker in the left shoulder. Decker spun with the impact, pulled his gun free and fired at Gilberto, hitting him in the right arm. The bandit’s hand opened and he dropped his gun.

Above them several newly sawed hatches in the ceiling opened and men began to fire down into the crowd of bandits. The men at the bar drew their guns, but two men with shotguns entered by the front batwing doors, and three came in from the back, led by Jose. They all fired both barrels, shredding the men at the bar to pieces.

Decker was down on one knee, firing his gun at any man he could see who wasn’t bleeding from the mouth.

Gilberto was on the floor, groping for his gun with his left hand. Juanita came up behind him and hit him over the head with a plate of tortillas. A bullet struck her then, and she went down.

“Juanita!” Paco shouted. He came out from behind the bar and a bullet struck him in the leg.

Decker regained his feet, tucking his empty gun into his belt. The apron had been discarded. He bent over and retrieved Gilberto’s gun and started firing again.

By the time the bandits realized that they were being shot at from above, it was too late. Each man at a hatch had a pistol and a rifle, so they could fire without reloading. Only one man from above was shot, and fell through the hatch to the floor.

It took less than a minute, and then silence fell over the cantina. White smoke curled up and floated near the ceiling, where heads were poking out to see if it was all over.

Decker walked among the fallen bandits. Many of them had been shot, and some of them were simply lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from the mouth.

Decker dropped Gilberto’s gun and took out his own, reloading as he checked the bodies.

“Is it over, señor?” one man asked from the ceiling.

“It’s over,” he said. “You better come down and check your dead.”

“Juanita!” Decker heard Paco call.

He turned and saw the man crawling towards the girl, his hand trying to stem the blood that was leaking from his thigh.

Decker rushed over and turned Juanita over. The bullet seemed to have passed right through her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned in pain.

“Easy,” he told her.

“Am I going to die?” she asked.

“No,” he said, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “you are not going to die.”

She saw the blood coming from his shoulder.

“Are you going to die?”

“No, and neither is Paco.”

Paco reached her and took her hand.

“How is Gilberto?”

Decker looked at the bandit, who was just beginning to stir.

“He’s got your tortillas on his head, but he’s not going to die, either.”

“Give me a gun and I will kill him,” she said.

“Now, you just lie still here with Paco.”

Three of the men who had been upstairs came downstairs now.

“Watch him,” he said, pointing to Gilberto, “and collect all the guns from the floor. I don’t want anyone to wake up and start shooting.”

The two men who had come in the front door moved forward to help, and Decker stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“There’s still one more.”

Juanita winced at the pain in her shoulder, but said, “Raquel. She went to the hotel.”

“She must have heard the shooting.”

“I’ll get her. Is there a doctor in this town?”

“Si,” Paco said, “and if he heard the shooting he will be hiding under his desk.”

“Tell me where his office is and I’ll bring him back with me.”

Paco gave him directions and he left, first for the hotel, and then for the doctor.