Michael McGarrity - Tularosa

"The pistols and rifles in the cave were sent west for field trials as part of a testing program. One of Victorio's lieutenants in the Warm Springs tribe was a warrior named Nana. In fact. Loco, Victorio, and Nana were all part of the same band. Nana had an uncanny ability to find ammunition trains. The Apaches believed that the ammunition spoke to him. Nana intercepted the experimental weapons, but didn't get the ammunition. Without the bullets the guns were useless. I can only assume that Victorio stored the weapons with the hope Nana would supply the bullets at a later date. It never happened, and when Victorio and his band were wiped out in Mexico in 1880, the cache passed from living memory." Colonel Alverson looked out the open door of the office at the racks and tables in the warehouse that were filled with so many wonderful treasures.

"It's almost priceless," he said, his eyes sparkling.

"And you. Captain, deserve more than praise for your efforts." *** After leaving the colonel, Sara rode in a small caravan to Juarez accompanied by a State Department official and a Mexican consul general. Two MPS and Carlos followed behind, with Carlos sporting new false teeth and a rebuilt nose, courtesy of the Medical Services Corps. He would be part of an exchange with De Leon The Army would get back the 9th Cavalry letters that had been given to De Leon to authenticate the cache, and De Leon would get Carlos, two hundred thousand dollars' worth of diamonds, and a valuable cavalry officer's sword and scabbard that Colonel Alverson had been reluctant to give up. A Fort Knox officer with an MP escort carried the ransom in a third vehicle. On the drive, Sara listened briefly to the tedious conversation of the two bureaucrats as they talked about the delicate negotiations leading up to the exchange.

It made De Leon sound like an upstanding citizen and not the scumbag he really was. Sara tuned them out. In Juarez, the convoy was joined by a motorized contingent ofjuarez police, who cleared traffic along busy streets and hurried them into the empty Juarez bullring. Sara got her first look at Enrique De Leon He stood between two high-ranking Mexican army officers next to a black limousine. He was chatting casually to the men, with an animated, pleased expression on his face. Sara got out of the car with the diplomats and watched the exchange. De Leon seemed uninterested when Carlos walked toward him with the Fort Knox officer.

He accepted the package of diamonds from the officer, passed them wordlessly to Carlos, and jerked his head in the direction of the limousine. Carlos scrambled inside. Then De Leon took the sword and scabbard from the officer, unsheathed the blade, inspected it, and smiled at Sara before passing it to one of the Mexican officers.

De Leon's arrogance made Sara steaming mad. She thought of a perfect place to put De Leon new sword. Failing that, she would lock him up and throw away the key. As the charge d'affaires and consul general started to reenter the limousine, Sara broke away and walked briskly to De Leon. The man from the State Department tried to call her back. The two Mexican army officers closed ranks next to De Leon.

"I'd like a word with you," Sara said. Enrique De Leon smiled. It reminded Sara of Jim Meehan.

"Of course," De Leon replied.

"Alone," Sara snapped. De Leon nodded and disengaged himself from the officers. Sara led him a few yards away.

"What is it. Captain?" Enrique asked. Sara looked him coldly in the eyes.

"If any harm comes to Eddie Tapia or Kevin Kerney, I'll see you dead."

"Aren't you being a bit melodramatic?" De Leon suggested. His eyes were hard, estimating her.

"No, De Leon I'm not. I know how you operate. Interpol supplied me with a wealth of information about you."

"Pure speculation," De Leon retorted, raising his hands in a gesture of repudiation. "Unfounded falsehoods."

"You've been warned," Sara said, cutting him off. "If anything happens to Kevin Kerney or Eddie Tapia, I will kill you myself." He laughed condescendingly, and she waited calmly, eyes locked on his, until the laugh died out. Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

On the ride back to the base, Sara thought about Kerney. He had been a fixture in her mind since the night at the hacienda. She had a premonition that he was thinking about her, in spite of the fact that he'd made no attempt to contact her. Maybe it was time to test the hypothesis and find out if what she felt about him was true, or only wishful thinking. She'd do it right after Tom Curry's retirement party. *** Having money was convenient, if you wanted to get things done quickly. Quinn's affluence proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. He was already moved out, lock, stock, and barrel. The household goods and furniture were in storage, and Quinn was in Heidelberg, Germany, preparing to start a two year appointment as a professor of psychiatry at a medical school. House hunting and touring the German countryside on the weekends, he sent notes to Kerney with instructions on what needed doing at the ranch. After leaving Dale at the Rocking J, Kerney kept his promise to visit Erma Fergurson.

It was time well spent, and he ended the visit feeling that some of the bad memories of his family's hardships, losses, and tragedies had been smoothed out. So much for the past, Kerney thought, wondering about the future. He still had no idea where he was going, and only Dale Jennings knew he was leaving Santa Fe.

For the last week, Kerney had played tour guide to cowboy-clad real estate salesmen, trailing rich californians looking for the perfect Santa Fe hideaway. One salesman, who wore a Stetson and talked in a thick eastern accent, brought out a Hollywood couple five days in a row.

They just loved the place. It was so rustic and western. An offer was in the hopper. His arrangement with Quinn to stay on as caretaker expired that very afternoon. It was none too soon, according to Kerney's way of thinking. He was packed and ready to go. His furniture would stay behind. None of it was worth hauling around. Except for some changes of clothes, everything else was boxed, in the truck and covered with a tarp. He sat on the front step of the cabin and looked out over the Galisteo Basin. He would miss the valley. Wherever he landed, Kerney decided he would need to be in a place just as beautiful. Doing what. God only knew.

A trail of dust blew off the ranch road, signaling the arrival of the listing agent coming to get the keys. But it wasn't the vehicle Kerney was expecting. He stood up and waited on the porch step until the Jeep Cherokee stopped and the driver got out.

"Hello, Captain Brannon," he said, pleasure in his voice, as Sara walked toward him. She wore boots, jeans, and a tank top.

"It's Major Brannon," she corrected, smiling at him with her green eyes.

"Congratulations," Kerney replied.

"Don't be so quick with the applause," Sara replied.

"The promotion came with a two-year assignment in Korea."

"You'll do just fine," Kerney predicted.

"If I don't freeze my butt off when I get there," Sara agreed, studying him for any evidence of a more personal reaction.

"You look well," she added.

"I'm doing okay," Kerney admitted.

"How is Eddie?"

"He's coming along. The doctors took the pins out of his fingers. He's started physical therapy."

"That's good to hear," he answered. There was a brief silence.

"I got to meet Enrique De Leon," Sara declared. Clearly, the conversation wasn't going anywhere.

"Did you give him my regards?" he inquired.

"As a matter of fact, I did." Kerney felt clumsy. He was killing the conversation deader than a doornail.

"I looked for you at Sammy's funeral. I thought you might be there."

Sara took one step toward him and stopped.

"I wanted to go, but I couldn't get away." She waited for more. He just stared at her.