Cody's Army by Jim Case Read Free Book Online Page A

be nothing else, Gallegos reasoned as he cast a glance at the other vehicle, commanded by Sanchez, closing
     in.
    Bounty hunters.
    They were the ones you had to fear, and somehow they had gotten to Jesus during the siesta and Gallegos had not learned of
     it until the four-wheel-drive vehicle was seen racing away with a handcuffed Jesus Ruiz already in it.
    Up ahead, the vehicle reached the cluster of rock where the bare ground began its incline to become one of the sporadic buttes
     dotting the region.
    It could be worse, Gallegos told himself. At least we will get El Gato from them. We outnumber them right now ten-to-two,
     and it will be twenty-five-to-two when the others arrive shortly. The gringos would be promised safe passage. They would release
     Jesus. They would, of course, be slain, their bodies left to the buzzards and the jackals.
    Gallegos looked behind, to the west. The light of the western sky was fading but they still had another forty minutes of light.
     Enough time, yes. And this would teach the boss to stay on this side of the border, Gallegos hoped, where El Gato would not
     run the danger of having any more warrants sworn for his arrest in the States, which would bring more men like the two who
     had him now.
    He saw the four-wheel-drive skid to a stop and the two men alight from it.
    Where was the boss?
    The bounty hunters moved to one side of the car and pulled out what looked to Gallegos from this distance like a rolled-up
     rug. Then as the two Jeep-loads of men closed in to within several hundred yards of that rock cluster, he saw with something
     of a shock that it was the boss!
    El Gato’s body landed roughly on the ground, and one of the men grabbed the unconscious Ruiz where the handcuffs linked his
     hands and dragged Jesus behind the rocks.
    The boss is going to be real pissed now, thought Gallegos, and the only way to get off El Gato’s shit list would be to fill
     those two gringo bastards so full of holes that the buzzards and jackals wouldn’t even bother with what was left.
    * * *
    Hawkins dragged an unconscious Ruiz roughly across the rocky ground to behind the cluster of boulders, where a shelf of level
     land, surrounded by brownish-green, bunchy shrubs, allowed him to look from higher ground down upon the converging Jeeps full
     of gunmen—rifles poking into the air from each bouncing, speeding vehicle like antenna on some strange desert predator.
    He dumped Ruiz against one of the boulders and turned to stretch flat across the ground, unholstering the .44 Magnum he wore
     leathered cross-draw fashion on his left hip.
    He called to Caine, “Better get a hotfoot on, limey. This here gunfight’s about to commence.”
    Caine spun from the back of the four-wheel-drive. He gripped an Ml match rifle equipped with a rifle grenade attachment and
     fitted with a Startron infrared telescopic sight. He shouldered a pack loaded heavy with grenades and ammo.
    “Had to fetch the peashooter,” he called back, jogging toward the boulders on the higher ground. “How’s sleeping beauty?”
    Hawkeye turned from eyeing the oncoming jeeps, now some five hundred yards out and zeroing in side by side.
    Jesus Ruiz groaned and mumbled something groggily and started to open his eyes and sit up.
    Hawkeye leaned over and cracked the drug dealer behind the right ear with the butt of the .44.
    Ruiz settled back against the rock to resume snoring fitfully.
    “A tad worse for the wear but still sawin’ ’em off,” he replied as Caine joined him. “Looks like we could be boxed in this
     time, Richard, old chap.”
    The Brit bellied out beside Hawkins, supporting himself on his elbows, sighting in on one of the Jeeps through the M1’s sniper
     scope.
    “Let’s see what some heavy artillery buys us, shall we?”
    He sighted in on the Jeep of gunmen roaring in on the left, flicked the selector switch, and triggered, the M1’s report cracking
     in the open desert air, the recoil jerking his body.
    The