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Introduction:

Trouble?
The boss for the mission approached the large mansion type building. This was going to be dangerous; the big boss didn't take to kindly to being interrupted. He just hoped that the news he had didn't get him gutted, shot or hung. It all depended just how foul of a mood the big boss was in.

As he got off his mount, he eyeballed all the men that were roaming the grounds. He saw several that were in the few trees, even more on the roof of the building. It was for sure that no-one was going to sneak in here.

A thought hit the man as he slowly walked to the front door. The blond man had moved much like the scouts that the army had employed years ago.

The boss thought back to before the whole operation had been moved from the town that they had taken over. It was a lot like their present situation, though now they didn't have a crazy ex-Texas Ranger out gunning for them.

He himself, had been lucky to not be there when the men had been butchered in the camp. It had looked like the work of several men 'til the old Indian scout had told them, it was only one. One, that was far more deadly than any they had gone against.

The whole operation, was quickly moved, less than a week later they were on their way. They had traveled for quite a while when they encountered the shanty mining town.

Only two weeks later, they damn near owned everything connected to the mine. Those that hadn't signed had ended up as coyote food a few miles from the mine. True they had lost quite a few men, though the miners had the disadvantage of being trapped within a small area with no help. For them, as they lost members, they became weaker.

The boss smiled they had enjoyed the hell out of the few women that they managed to capture. Then again, the little bitches had also killed a few men themselves before they were put down.

A small smile came to his face, he had killed one of the last. Then again, she had cut his balls off, right before he slit her throat. Damn little bitch, even as she was dying, had stabbed him in his back.

Barely able to move his left arm, let alone feel a whole hell of a lot with it. Thinking back, he was glad the boss had as much help as he had. The stories about the men who were found later, still gave more than a few nightmares.

After being searched by a few huge burly men, the mission boss was led to a mall parlor. The man sat hoping that this wasn't the last hour of his life. A few minutes later a short, rotund, balding man entered the room.

"Mr. Jones to what do I owe this visit? I take it the latest mission went well?" Tom Greely said holding a kerchief to his nose.

"Yes sir, though we lost more men than I thought we would, three 'efore we even left. Hired a new man that rode into town, after he killed all three of our top men. They say he moved faster than anyone 'ad ever seen." Jones said.

Greely nodded he'd already been informed of those three idiots. "So why are you here?"

"The thing is boss; I know a killer when I sees one. Many, myself included, say that this man's eyes are like looking into the eyes of death. This man is a stone-cold killer, though I feel that he is more. Sent him to ambush the front of the wagons. He's the only one that came back, some story that the others fired early, not buying it." Jones said.

Greely was nodding his head he'd not heard this bit, something about this man seemed familiar. As of yet Greely couldn't put a finger on it. He had moved everything after he lost the outer encampment. His scout advisor had warned him that it would be advisable. As of yet the Indian hadn't been wrong yet, he wasn't about to doubt him.

"I suggest you keep an eye on the man to see if anything else rises suspicion. Go, I have to talk to Tanaka." Greely said dismissing the man.

Jones hi-tailed it out of there, he'd been sweating a bit. Something was obviously going on; the boss had been distracted that was for sure.

Greely moved out of the parlor towards the back of the building. He knew he'd find Tanaka out back. Though not many of the men liked the Indian, they also made sure to leave him alone. Tanaka didn't look like much; he was faster and deadlier than any of his men. They were after all the dregs of humanity, no better than gutter scum.

Greely exited the building walking toward the large Teepee situated there. With a wipe of his brow, Greely waited for Tanaka to appear.

A moment later a voice caused Greely to turn. "You are looking for me?" Tanaka said.

A thin smile crossed Greely's lips, "we might have a problem with a new man that was hired. Seems he has killed more than a few of the men. I need you to find out what you can, before he is more trouble than we can handle."

"The normal way? No one to see?" Tanaka asked.

,

"Not yet, he just might be a gunfighter, a fast one from what I have heard. That we could use to our advantage." Greely said.



Tanaka grunted as he took a step then seemed to vanish.

Greeley could only shake his head, he'd been staring at Tanaka, hadn't seen the Indian move. With a slight shake, Greeley was thankful Tanaka was on their side.

A very thin smile came to Tanaka's lips as he moved away. Good, the white man boss was still afraid of him. He himself, would gut the man when the time came. As of yet, no-one had a clue as to where the bastard, white man, was holding his mate and son.

For now, he was helping the white boss as he, Tanaka felt was the best. The white man was far smarter than most he'd met, though nowhere as deadly.

Tanaka nodded, the man who had taken the entire outer encampment, that was one that Tanaka had thought was another warrior from his tribe. It had been a big shock when, Tanaka only saw the spoor of a white man. Still it had slightly unnerved the warrior, tracker something very hard to do.

Tanaka mounted his paint, horse as he set off for the white man's town. A place he avoided at all costs. Not that he was afraid, it was smart to not enter a place where there was an overabundance of enemy. Especially, all that were there, many happy to kill rather than anything else. No, he kept his time in that place to minimum.

Tanaka kept to the shadows as much as he could when he entered the town. The white boss had given Tanaka, a very detailed de***********ion. Moving toward the loudest building in the shanty town, Tanaka stopped short. What he was feeling, reminded him of several warriors he'd faced in the past. Was this a warrior hiding, disguised as a white man? Was that even possible?

A shake of his head, Tanaka decided that this would be more than worth the exposure. Well, as little as he could permit. A movement had Tanaka hiding as deep in the shadows as he could.

The blond man rode to the saloon, he needed sleep and a bath, well a chance to wash anyway. The wave of stench from the unwashed bodies, was enough to kill a buzzard a few times over.

A nod of his head he then rode by to the livery. He needed to get his ride taken care of first. He'd ridden the horse hard, time to reward him.

"Help you stranger?" Came a young voice.

A turn revealed a young boy standing in the doorway. "Yeah, need to stall my horse. Ya able to handle it?" The man said.

"Sure thing mister, cost ya. Two dollars a day, twelve for the week, if'n ya stay that long." The youth said. "Need a name mister."

"John," the blond man said.

"Just" the youth started.

"Yeah, just John." John said as he tossed the youth several silver dollars.

The youth's eyes went wide as he nodded then seemed to vanish as a voice spoke behind John.

"Funny you, stabling a stolen horse." The voice said, then there was the unmistakable sound of a revolver hammer being pulled back.

"Not a good idea." John said his own hand on the butt of his colt.

"Oh? Why ya say that? I hold the advantage, though I've heard you're fast. I always notice when another fast gun shows up. Tell you what, meet me in the street in an hour, we'll see." The voice said as the hammer was released.

John knew the speaker was already gone no need to react. This was going to upset his plans to try and fade into the background, especially when he killed the ass.

A shake of his head was all the sign he gave of his mounting frustration. The plan had been simple enough, not his fault he'd been paired up with a bunch of trigger-happy morons.

That would have been easy enough to overcome, 'til he discovered she was here. Here he thought, he had hidden all his tracks. He knew she was part Indian though was still unsure which tribe. She displayed skills almost equal to his own, skills he'd learned from three tribes.

John moved to the front of what was called the saloon. Yeah, a building with tables, chairs, a bar plus a lot of rot gut. Wouldn't do to drink much of that swill.

An hour later, the streets cleared as the sound of jingling spurs was the only sound heard. John looked at the tall man in black britches, boots and shirt. A scar running across one side of his face, seemed to throb.

"Well, see you're no coward, that's good. Course that won't matter, seeing as you'll be face down soon. Seen your speed son, know mine, don't see how you're gonna beat me. Name's Tom you?" Tom said.

"John, ne'er had any ask a name before, just wanted to get it done. Seem awful gentlemanly, to be a gun slinger." John said.

"Well, well, so it seems we have a likened soul here, you son don't appear to be one either." Tom said. "Seems to be a shame to kill something that actually gives a little culture to this hell hole."

"Yeah, well, it was you that called this, care to let it go?" John said.

"I am afraid that we are far beyond that, the rest here have seen what's going on. Don't think they're about to just let it go." Tom said.

John nodded, "as you said, it seems to be a shame to kill one of the few with a brain here."

"I think you overestimate your skill." Tom said.

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" John said eyeing his opponent.

Both stood in the center of the street. John could see a great many faces that were pressed to the windows. He could also, barely hear the many hushed voices that, were betting on the outcome of the gunfight.

John and his opponent looked to a clock that was in the top of the saloon. Odd place for it John thought.

A minute later the clock struck the hour, both men drew with speed that, made both their hands appear to be just blurs. Two shots rang out, with both men dropping to the ground.

One got up walking slowly to the other. John ,leaned down when Tom, motioned to him.

"I thought it was you," Tom gasp. "I should have known better, Marshall Strong." Tom gasp once more time then lay still.

John could only shake his head; he'd recognized the man as soon as he saw him. The scar was a dead giveaway, seeing as it was John that had given it to him over five years ago.

John shook his head as he looked around making sure no-one had heard the dying man's words. Shit, John thought, he really hated for the man's body to be raided by the jackals that were there. returning to his feet, John turned toward the saloon.

As soon as John was out of sight more than a few people were quickly picking the body clean. John entered the saloon, watching as almost all there moved as far from him as they could.

Wincing as he sat, John decided that he needed to look after the graze from Tom's bullet. He had recognized Tom as soon as he saw him, so he knew what the man would do. John had barely gotten out of ther way of being a corpse like Tom now was.

A look around showed that though many were keeping their distance, a few appeared to be itching to test his speed. John might haven to speak to the boss, there'd be a hell of a lot more dead if that was the case.

John slowly made his way to the room he had, no sense in revealing that, he was inured even if it was slight. With a click, John made sure the door was locked. He then put the only chair against the door as an extra brace.

Slowly he peeled the shirt over his head, wincing at the burning sensation. On his right side he could see the burned path the bullet had taken. Damn he thought, an inch to the left, he'd be face down like Tom was.

John had just finished with his would when he felt it. Walking to the window, John peered out not touching the pane or sill. His eyes searching all the darkest shadows, John settled his gaze on one spot he couldn't penetrate.

John nodded his head; this didn't feel like an ordinary warrior. No, this was an accomplished seasoned fighter, one well experienced with killing.

This was unexpected, John didn't know what would bring one like this one, into enemy territory. Well, John thought, no time like the present to find out. Just needed to do this right. Either a small pow-wow or a quick death for one of them. John looked at his side, with him injured, it was slightly in this warrior's favor.

Tanaka stayed as deep in the shadows as he could, as of yet no-one had noticed him. He'd been feeling the warrior for some time now, though this one he thought was good as hiding.

A movement behind him had him drawing a large knife, whirling he came face to face with the warrior. The only thing was this was most definitely a white man. "So," Tanaka said in broken English, you are no one of the people."

John didn't move nor make a threatening move. "I am not, though I played and trained with them as a child. The Kiowa, Comanche and Apache were my friends, long before they were forced from their lands."

Tanaka shifted slightly he had heard stories of white men who had lived with different tribes. Though he'd never met one as well trained as this white man was.

"It would appear that you are more. You move, fight, revenge like one of the people." Tanaka said.

Slowly John joined Tanaka in the shadows. "I know you do not come here unless you have too." John said.

"I was sent to find out about the new white man. It was worry to white boss man, new man kill many, fast with gun." Tanaka said.

"I see," John said in Apache, shocking Tanaka. "I learned far more than just fighting and the warrior way.

Tanaka, turned to stare at John. "You seem more like one of the people, than the white man. Still, I know not if I can trust you. We will see soon, I will tell the white boss that you are a lone man, you do not talk to any. I am unsure if he will not want more."

John nodded then seemed to vanish in front of Tanaka's eyes. A small smile crossed Tanaka's lips, this was no mere white man trained in the people's ways, he moved like a spirit, fought like a wolf, was as fast as a cat. Tanaka decided right then he could trust the man. Though even as a point of honor, would he help Tanaka? With the man at his side, they could rescue his family with ease.

On his mount Tanaka rode as fast as he could back to the white boss man's house. Going over everything, Tanaka decided that for now he'd keep what he really knew about the new man.

John went to where the women were being held. Might as well get this over as soon as possible. Walking up to the building, John's hand had been on his revolver the whole time. The men recognized John the moment he came into view. Trembling a bit they readily allowed him inside.

John looked around the room, spotting her blond hair in no time. With a nod to her she arose walking to right beside him.

"I don't know why you're here. John said low.

"Like the last time, I can help you." The blond woman whispered back.

"This is far more dangerous than last time. There are a hell of a lot more men and guns. More than even I can handle, you need to sneak out, get to the ravine where I left the others." John told her.

"I can take care of myself John, I am not a weak woman that needs coddling." The blond woman said slightly angry.

"Normally I would agree, in this case as I said, there are far too many. Most of those here have no qualms about killin' men, women, children. Stay, since I can't make you leave, just wanted to let you know what scum you are up against." John told her.

John immediately turned to leave. Several of the women tried to get his attention, he ignored them going out the door.

John headed back to the rot got hole as he was starting to call it. He immediately headed up to the small room he'd gotten. He had cold water in a very small tub though he didn't care as he washed as much as he could.

John sat on the rusted piece of metal that they called a bed. He went over all he'd learned so far, something didn't seem to be adding up. Attacking the wagon trains was one thing, though it wasn't really that lucrative for all the men they had here.

No, there was something else going on here something that the were obviously covering up. John imagined that they weren't about to just let him ride around to find out.

John fell asleep after he set a few things by the door. Setting a few by the window also. He'd only been asleep a few hours when several bottles clattered by the door. John was awake immediately both his revolvers drawn.

A moment later the barrel of a rifle poked through the open door. It turned to fire at the bed where John had been. John heard laughing as three men walked in, guns out. John emptied one revolver through the door, the other he used on the man with the rifle.

John looked at the three men bleeding in his doorway. A shake of his head he dragged the bodies into the hallway, leaving them in a pile at the end. Quickly he reloaded his revolvers, stepping to the doorway he heard the clattering of several metal pans he'd left near the window. John shook his head as he peeked in the room seeing another three men searching the room.

"He ain't here" John heard one man say.

"Shit," he heard another say. "Ya reckon thems other three got'em?"

"Don' know, thinks we oughta leave though." John heard the third say.

"Now why would you wanna leave the party so early. I heard ya all was dying to stay." They all heard behind them making them all freeze in place. Well, the voice plus the double click of revolver hammers, being drawn back.

"We weren't doing nuttin mister," one said as he whirled his gun drawn. A single shot had the man on the floor screaming, his gun shot from his hand.

"Now I suggest you drop'em before I kill all three of ya." John said knowing that all three thought he was an easy mark.

The other two looked at each other taking their guns out then they also tried to turn and fire. John of course, shot them, then the other on the floor trying to grab his gun.

With a sigh John dragged three more bodies out to the end of the hallway. The bartender appeared, John, tossing the man several silver dollars. "Ought to cover it," John said as he closed his door.
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