4 comments/ 10630 views/ 2 favorites Bounty Hunter's Demise By: teddy2horse With great respect for the Constables of Nueces County, Texas. I've been out of pocket for quite a while so I haven't posted any stories. Hope y'all like this one. Teddy TwoHorse. * Depending on who you talk to, Bounty Hunters are either a particularly odious form of life, scavenging on the dregs of civilized people, or they're useful predators, taking down the blood-sucking ticks that are a drain on our society. They come in all shapes and sizes and they can be rich and famous, as some TV personalities have shown us or plain, hard working men and women doing a necessarily dirty job or dirt bags that fall as they've lived. In some states, they're not allowed to carry guns. In 1960's Texas, they could carry whatever they chose to carry. During that period there were two particularly unsavory bounty hunters -- bond recovery agents these days -- they were Smiley Benson and Charlie Tevis. They usually brought their "perpetrators" back, usually alive, but always a little bloody and worse for their encounter with them. These two also felt that it was their right and bound duty to extract their own punishment from the bond jumpers, no matter what the crime. A check bouncer in financial straits received the same treatment as a killer on the run. All got the same treatment at the hands of these two . . . ****** Smiley and Charlie arrived in Sinton, Texas one Saturday afternoon. They were after a fugitive from justice, a woman who'd bounced three checks at a grocery store to pay for groceries, had appeared before the Magistrate after being arrested, bound over for trial, received money from a bondsman -- the only one who would post it -- and had almost immediately left Houston, never returning for trial. She had requested a trial because until her case came up, she'd have time to either come up with money or hide somewhere. She had no money for the fine nor the grocer at the time. The bondsman was highly successful because he was also just as ruthless and unsavory as his bounty hunters. Smiley and Charlie worked as a team on their cases. They'd never been in Sinton, Texas before so they drove around the little town that Saturday, checking it over and, finding the bond jumper's address, settled on early the next morning for the pick-up. They found a cheap motel, got the clerk to find them a woman to share, and bedded down. They knew that early Sunday mornings were the best time to get these criminals -- as was the case with Doris Younger, the bond jumper. Doris got up early that morning, awakened her three kids, one in pre-school and the other two in elementary school, and got them all dressed to go to Sunday mass at the nearby Catholic church. She'd been abandoned by her husband just before she gave birth to their third child, a boy, but he'd been playing around for a long time before that. She lived in a run-down, wood-frame affair that was cheap to rent -- it was all she could afford with her young brood. "Hurry up, Alvin," she hustled her oldest, "mass will start without us if you don't get a move on." She finished dressing David, the youngest boy, as Glenda, her middle child, finished buckling her brand-new -- to her -- shiny and slightly scuffed, charity box, patent leather Mary Janes. Alvin grumbled as he pulled his socks on, then lazily pulled on one shoe at a time. As he grumbled, Smiley and Charlie crept up the front stairs, hands on holstered weapons and waited on each side of the front door. Charlie was ready to kick the door in on Smiley's command, when it suddenly opened and the three kids trooped out. Alvin spotted Smiley and half-smiled at him as Doris backed out the door, pulling it with her, keys in her hand and intent on locking it. Charlie, behind Doris, grabbed her from behind as Smiley swung a vicious back-handed left fist into the side of her head. Before Doris' keys hit the wooden porch, his right uppercut smashed into the same spot. Doris crumpled, going unconscious in Charlie's arms, but as her legs gave way under her, Smiley, still grinning and enjoying the punishment he was about to hand her, viciously kicked her between the legs. Doris screamed in unconscious pain, breaking the spell on the kids watching their mother get beaten. They screamed shrilly and Alvin charged in to defend his mother. Charlie turned and sent the boy flying with a hard kick to the head. The helpless boy, half unconscious, flew backward off the porch. Glenda screamed, backing up in fright and fell off the porch onto a small garden fence around the mostly bare flower bed. The upright pickets of the fence gave under her, breaking and splintering, several shards piercing her abdomen and neck. Smiley grabbed Doris' feet and between them they hustled her off leaving a screaming little boy, a bloody and dying little girl and a semi-conscious boy. Charlie tossed her head first into the back seat of their Belair and Smiley quickly pulled her wrists behind her, snapping his handcuffs on them and immediately slapping leg-irons on her ankles. Once she was helpless and still unconscious, he bent her legs up and, with a short piece of rope, tied the chains of the two cuffs together, leaving her hog-tied in the back seat. The police had been notified as required by law, but since there was no particular time limit, they'd been notified just a few minutes before the boys went for the grab. Smiley behind the wheel, waved to the Constable as he pulled up to the house. By the time the Constable called for an ambulance for Glenda and Alvin, the two bounty hunters were out of town and heading up Highway 77 toward Houston. They gave each other a high five and laughed. Several hours later, they were almost into Harris County. Seeing that they only had a little over an hour to go, Charlie got an urge. Doris lay face down on the back seat, her dress rucked up and showing a lot of nylon-stockinged thigh. Doris wasn't a particularly beautiful woman. She was a little overweight and had a slightly prominent "Mommy's Belly" owing to the three kids she'd had, still -- she was a woman and her helplessness appealed to Charlie. That she was in such a vulnerable position also appealed to Smiley. Charlie particularly liked his women face down and got a strong rush when they were tied up and helpless. He said as much to Smiley. "She looks damn good, back there, don't she, Bo," he reached over the seat to pull Doris' hem up higher, caressing her nyloned rump, "what do you think?" "They just want her alive for trial, old son," Smiley grinned back at him, "and you can't damage it any with just a little poke, now can you?" Charlie chortled, his prick getting stiffer the further they traveled. He finally couldn't stand it any longer and hopped the seat, landing atop Doris. Doris moaned as he shoved her forward slightly, her head banging against the door's molded hand-rest. Charlie undid her garters and carefully rolled her panties down halfway to her knees. He didn't want to rip them and, besides, he liked to roll his women's panties down and leave them on. He like the feel of the tightly furled nylon on his balls. "Oh, yeah," he crooned huskily, "just like I like 'em," he sighed, caressing Doris' roundly generous rump. "Save some for me, asshole lover," Smiley called. "You can have the pussy," Charlie chortled again, "me, I like this sweet ass and I'm gonna have me some'a this nice brown-eye." Doris cried out uselessly as Charlie pushed her feet up toward her rump and, pushed her knees under, raising her ass to cock level. Her ample thighs jiggled as he lowered his nose to her ass and took a mighty whiff. "Ah-h-h . . . fine as wine," he sighed. He undid the rope and one side of the leg-cuffs, pushing the free leg over and bringing the other up, snapping the open cuff on the handcuff's chain. Doris tried to struggle, but Charlie's oppressive weight made it impossible to move much. Her head still spun from Smileys earlier heavy blows, her lower stomach in a knot from his hard kick and the sudden worry over her kids. She hadn't seen the mess they'd made of them, but she worried that they were all alone now. He gripped her ass cheeks and spread them apart. Doris clenched her butt hole tightly, trying to protect it as she felt his hands on her bare ass. "My God," she whimpered. Her head pounded heavily, her belly and crotch on fire. The rough handling on her handcuffs added to her excruciating pain. She gave in and with deep, racking sobs, begged for him to stop. "Please, stop," she pleaded, tears running down her face, "I'm begging you, please stop." "Let me hear you beg, bitch," Charlie laughed hoarsely, "let me hear you beg. Beg me not to fuck your ass, slut!" he snorted out a braying hyena laugh, "time I get through with you, you'll be begging me to fuck it harder!" His heavy hand came down on the back of her head, bouncing her head off the arm rest. "BITCH!!" he suddenly yelled, "I SAID LET ME HEAR YOU BEG FOR YOUR WORTHLESS ASS!! I WANT TO HEAR YOU BEG ME NOT TO FUCK YOUR ASSHOLE, CUNT!!" his voice carried over the sound of the tires whining on the old macadam. Smiley bounced up and down in his seat, chortling and slapping the wheel in delight, his own little pecker stiffening in lust as he listened to the beginning of Charlie's ass-taking of their helpless charge. "Please! STOP!" Doris screamed in panic and pain. "BEG, BITCH!" Charlie screamed, "BEG ME TO STOP HITTING YOU! BEG ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT ASS-WIPE!!" Doris begged. She begged to see her children. Begged for him to let her go. Begged to go home. Charlie only laughed, his voice an insanely high giggle as he pushed his heavy pole against Doris' tightly clenched asshole. It wouldn't budge. "Beg, bitch," he chortled, his voice dropping to a gravelly growl as he tried to push into her, "I love to hear you beg!" "Please let me go!" Doris whimpered, his hard grip on her ass-cheeks a sheer torture. Charlie couldn't force himself into her, which angered him. He grunted and dug his thumb against her puckered anus, he knew how to open her up, he muttered. She screamed incoherently as he managed to shove a calloused thumb into her, his thumbnail ripping into her tender inner flesh. She screamed as he tore her anus -- he wanted his cock in her. He'd done this before and he knew exactly how to open her up. He finally sank his thumb into her, her slick blood lubing the way in, her tightly gripping sphincter fighting him all the way. He pushed it in past the knuckle as she screamed again, pulling on her other ass-cheek with his free hand, managing to push his other thumb in beside the first. Doris screamed again, trying to kick, trying to push away from his pain inflicting thumbs as he pulled her asshole open. "Ooh-h-h, music to my ears," Charlie giggled again as Smiley bounced even higher in his seat and almost lost control of the car, the front wheels jouncing from side to side. "Is she hot, Charlie?" Smiley chortled from up front, "is she hot for you?" "Oh, yeah, bo," Charlie grinned evilly, "she is hot for my cock!" Smiley screamed with laughter as Charlie split her unwilling asshole open. He had a powerful grip, one that Smiley had felt before on his neck, and he put it to good use as he finally managed to rip her asshole open far enough for him to push his short, fat dick-head in. "Oh, God, bo," Charlie cried out as he buried his stiff into her, "this ass is so hot and READY!" "I see one, Charlie," Smiley floored the gas pedal, "I see a good spot!" "Go for it, bo." He rammed deeper into Doris, pulling a lesser scream of anguish from her hoarsening throat. Both his thumbs were still in her as he pushed his thick meat in deeper and deeper. This wasn't as bad as ripping her open, but it was equally humiliating. "Oh, God!" he moaned as he sank his cock into the depths of her anal heat. Doris screamed from shame more than pain as he spread her unwilling ass wider and she tried to buck him off her. She couldn't use her hands, they were handcuffed to one leg behind her as she tried to dislodge him, screaming helplessly. "Yeah, baby," Charlie chortled pulling his thumbs free and gripping her hips, "you like it, too, don't you. You like it as much as I do, don't you. Yes-s, my sweet darlin', bounce for me." Smiley pulled into the rest area. It was well-covered with bushes and a few mesquites -- the typical Texas rest area -- and pulled in off the road among some thick scrub. As he jumped out, Charlie rammed his thick cock into Doris' ass a couple more times and grunted, squirting his load of satisfaction into her. Smiley eagerly yanked the door open, hurriedly unzipping his pants. "Is it my turn, Charlie?" he hopped from one foot to the other, pulling his stiff dick out of his jeans and stroking it in high anticipation. "Gimme a couple'a seconds, bo," Charlie gasped, "just a couple more seconds." Charlie lay atop her enjoying her tightly grasping colon on his softening cock. Doris' mouth gaped open like a fish out of water as she tried to cry out in mute objection to the rough treatment he'd bestowed on her battered ass, but the only sound she could make was a weak little cry -- the weak sound of a mouse crying -- as she sobbed in pain. "Come on, Charlie," Smiley urged impatiently, "come on, lemme have some." "Okay-okay, bo," Charlie pushed himself up, using Doris' ample buttocks for support. He slowly sat back, pulling his prick out of her ass, hearing the sweet sound of a champagne cork popping. "Did ya hear that," he grinned to Smiley, "she had a virgin ass, bo! I got me a virgin ass!" "Okay, okay," Smiley grinned impatiently, "you got a virgin ass! Come on, my turn!" Charlie backed out the door and stood back as Smiley bent in and tried to roll Doris over. "Gimme a hand rolling her over," Smiley yelled impatiently, "come on, Charlie! Gimme a hand!" Charlie walked around the back of the car, his shit covered prick hanging limply between his legs. "Damn bitch got my cock dirty," he grumbled, "she gotta clean it off!" Before Charlie helped roll her over, he tossed an oily shop rag at Smiley. "Shove this in her ass," he ordered, "we don't need her leaking blood and cum all over my clean seats." Smiley grinned and giggled as he shove the dirty rag, a little bit at a time, up Doris' ass. She moaned in pain as he shoved the rag in with his hard, calloused fingers. The pain of her handcuffed limbs wasn't as bad as the pain she still felt in her ass as they rolled her over. She gave a tormented whimper as she was rolled atop her steel-bound arms and leg. "Oh-shit, oh-shit, oh-shit," Smiley giggled eagerly, "oh, shit this is fun!" Doris lay on her hands and crooked-back leg moaning in pain. "No," she whimpered, in a tortured, hopeless voice, "no, please. No more, please," she sobbed. "Beg for me, cunt," Smiley grinned, "beg just like you did for my buddy Charlie! Beg for me!" His open hand landed stingingly on her bare belly. Doris gasped with the stinging pain, her head jerking up. Charlie grabbed it and pulled her to him, pushing her head down as he pulled her to the edge of the seat. "Oh, please," she moaned helplessly. "That's it, bitch," Charlie smiled cruelly, "beg! Beg for me to feed you my cock, bitch." He gripped the corners of her mouth, digging his thumbs into the back of her jaw and forcing her to hold her mouth open. She moaned, no longer struggling, no longer fighting, just wanting this torment to end. Smiley climbed in after her and lifted her hips, then almost as if they were coordinating their assault, Smiley plunged his short slender prick in Doris' loose, womanly cunt as Charlie rammed his fat cock in her mouth. Doris tried to scream again, but Charlie buried his shitty cock that much further in her mouth, sending it into her throat. Doris gagged and tried to spew the few beans she'd had that morning along with Charlie's shit-covered cock. He cackled with glee and pulled back, turning her head sideways and letting her spit it out onto the thick grass. "That's it, bitch," Charlie crooned, "make some room for my hot cum!" He laughed again, still holding her mouth open and shoved his cock back in her mouth. "Lick it clean, honey," he sang in mock concern, "lick it shiny clean, okay?" Smiley grunted as he rocked Doris' body with his slamming thrusts. Doris gurgled as her belly spasmed. Charlie shoved in harder, his soft prick stiffening slowly. "Work that tongue, bitch," he growled, "clean it all off." Doris' head spun. She was completely broken, hot tears ran down her cheeks from the pain in her mind as well as her body. She licked Charlie's cock as he fucked her face, driving steadily deeper down her gagging throat. Smiley was going like a jack-rabbit on meth as he trip-hammered in and out of her. "Oh, God, Honey," his voice sounded like a sweet, innocent young child, "I'm gonna cum! Oh, it's so good!" Once again, it was as if they were working in tandem. Smiley almost screamed as he came and Charlie grunted like a pig as he, too, squirted heavily down her throat. Doris was beyond caring what they did to her anymore. She just lay moaning and whimpering, worrying about her kids as tears rolled down her cheeks and into her ears, sobbing quietly. She gulped a few times before Charlie pulled his cock back. She swallowed the mixture of shit and cum she'd cleaned off his cock. "Oh, yeah," Charlie grinned, "did you see that, bo? She was a good little slutty gal and swallowed my shitty cum." "Yeah," Smiley giggled leaning against the backrest, "damn good pussy, even for an old gal like her, huh, Charlie?" "Yep," Charlie pulled his pants together and zipped up, "ya done? We still got another hour. Pull her panties up and hook her leg back up." "Oh, shoot, yeah-h-h," Smiley grinned. He reached for the underside of Doris' skirt and wiped his prick off with it, pushed himself back onto the ground and fixed his pants. Then he reached in and dragged Doris half out of the car. With practiced ease, he unrolled her panties back up her belly, undid the leg-cuff and re-fastened it around her free ankle. Charlie came around and between the two, they shoved her into her seat, banging her head against the top of the door frame deliberately. Doris' brown pumps had strap buckles and had never come off. Her stockings, loose from the garter, hung down around her knees. Charlie did a quick hook-up to one, but gave up after that, he couldn't quite get the hang of them. Smiley pulled her hem down and half-ass smoothed it. "I guess she looks presentable enough," Charlie grinned. "Yep," Smiley grinned. Smiley pushed her to the middle of the seat, Doris' head bowed in broken defeat, her cuffed wrists on her lap. Charlie climbed behind the steering wheel and Smiley slid in beside Doris. He wanted to play with her tits as they drove. He loved sucking on big tits. As he rode beside Doris he terrorized her into complete submission, pulling out his pistol and rubbing it along the line of her breasts. They were an unsavory pair of brutal beasts who preferred their prey easy to deal with. "It would be easy to shoot you," he spoke almost idly, cruelly eyeing her, "and if I don't have to, you'll be in county lock-up so I can always find you if you say bad things about us, you know? Shit, I could even hire one of the guards to do it for me, what do you think about that?" he giggled again and pulled Doris' heavy breasts from her torn blouse. Doris said nothing. She only closed her eyes and whimpered in the pain and shame of her degradation. Smiley kept his constant grin and pulled one of her breasts to his lips, pulling one of her large nipples to his mouth, he caressed her upper breasts with the muzzle of his pistol as he suckled. She moaned in disgust as they stiffened in spite of herself. Bounty Hunter's Demise "Be nice," he chided as she flinched, "cause if you wiggle too much, this thing might go off, an', an' it ain't as nice as what went off in your pussy, hm-m?" He continued his pleasantries until they pulled in to the Harris County Jail parking lot. Re-holstering his pistol, he adjusted Doris' blouse. The sentry at the gate waved them through when they showed him the bondsman's papers and they quickly pulled up to the inmate entrance. Inside, the officer at the window took their papers and boredly examined them. He initialed them and pulled off his copies, gesturing with his head to another officer. That officer came out, removed Doris' handcuffs and leg-cuffs and threw them into Charlie's hands, not bothering to re-cuff Doris. She was too traumatized to resist even had she wanted to. The officer at the window quickly stamped "Received" on the bounty hunters' copy and threw it at to them with a sneer. Charlie grabbed for it, missed it and it floated to the floor sliding against an incoming officer's foot. The officer stood there glaring at them as Smiley bent to retrieve it. "Tell me something, boys," the officer stood looking down at Smiley, "why do all the people you two bring in have to be sent to the hospital first, hm?" "They like to tussle," Smiley grinned shrugging, "we usually have to use a little force to persuade them to come along quietly." "Hmph!" the inbound officer grunted skeptically, "bullshit!" he turned to the window. The two ignored him and slapped each other on the back, too jubilant to be angry. They'd had, what they considered, a good pick up, some great ass, pussy and face and made a quick two-hundred. It was a lot of money in 1962. They went on their way, turned in the receipt to their bondsman and picked up their money. He told them to come back in a couple of days and he'd probably have another for them. Meanwhile, they went out and partied. A woman they picked up at a bar, accused them of rape the next day and they skipped town just ahead of the arrest warrant. A few days later, they called their bondsman and got a job in Bexar County where they picked up another runner and brought him in, in similar condition. This one almost died due to their kind care. They were still staying out of Harris County because of their outstanding warrant. Then a couple of weeks later they got one in Corpus Christi for San Patricio County. Because Corpus Christi was in Nueces County, the San Pat Sheriff couldn't go after the man because he and the Nueces County Sheriff were having a little jurisdictional dispute. The two were their usual ebullient selves getting there. They found County Road 2444 and traveled down it, finally locating County Road 41A. It was a narrow, run-down road as most Corpus Christi roads were, but they found what they thought to be the house, the address was where their logic told them it should be since most of the houses here had no numbers. There was a little dirt road between their man's home and the next one. Like most places in this tide-water area, it sat up on stilts, the porch well over six feet above the ground. Their orders were to pick up an older man, mid-fifties, five-nine, roughly a hundred-eighty to two-hundred pounds, very tan complexion, bushy beard and a large handlebar mustache. They sat for a little while and waited before driving up the little dirt road for a bit. They hit 41A as it bent around in a horseshoe and waited there at the end. It seemed almost like an alley to Smiley, but Charlie dismissed the idea as they saw a car pull up by the house. They drove by it and saw several men get out, carrying six-packs. They hesitated and, as they slowed, another car pulled up and parked alongside the first. Another man and several women got out of it. Several of the other men came around and helped unload two beer-kegs from the open trunk. "Shit," Charlie cursed, "looks like they're fixing to have a party." "Yeah," Smiley grinned, "too many to handle. Wonder which one's our boy?" Charlie shrugged and stared, motioning Smiley to keep on driving. One of the men standing on the porch, stared at their pale faces as they drove past. Charlie looked back and saw him raise the old one-finger salute to their backs. "Yeah, too many to tangle with, for sure," he muttered. "What now, bo," Smiley grinned at Charlie. "We go find us a motel and get some sleep. Then we come back early, see if our boy's the only one left." Smiley grinned and waved at a lone bearded man coming their way. He glanced at them and kept on going. "Might 'a been our boy," Charlie looked back as Smiley slowed, then, "Yep, that's him," he watched the car pull in the driveway and the crowd wave him up, "let's go." "Pick him up now?" Smiley looked at Charlie, smiling incredulously. "No, dumb-ass, to find a motel room. Jeezus what a dope." "Oh," Smiley gunned the engine and they sped off. They got a room and had the clerk get them a woman. They spent most of the night with her helplessly tied up as they wore themselves out on her, arguing over the money they hadn't yet collected for the old man. The woman's pimp banged on their door around three the next morning. He was the biggest, blackest man either of them had ever seen. Charlie started to haggle with him over the price, but the man was adamant and held up the woman's wrists claiming that they'd damaged his merchandise and demanded an extra fifty because she'd have to take a night off to care for it. They finally paid the twenty plus the extra fifty. "Pleasure doin' bidness, boys," the man grunted, showing off his investments as he smiled, "call me next time you're in town," he grabbed the woman by the arm and dragged her out, "I'll even give you a discount an' a woman dat likes ta be beat." Smiley started to say something about being called a "boy," but he saw two other big, black men just outside the door and thought better of it. "We can still get a couple hours sleep," Charlie noted looking at his watch and yawning, "then we'll go, okay?" Smiley only nodded, he was dozing off already. ******* They overslept. Around seven, Smiley opened his eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. He looked at his watch and sat up calling Charlie's name. "What ya want?" "It's almost seven-fifteen. We gotta get going." "What?!" Charlie sat bolt upright, "shit!" They gathered their things, did a quick wash-up and left the room key on the table. A few minutes later, they rolled up beside the old man's house and took a quick turn around the block. On a quiet Sunday morning, they didn't figure anybody would be up in the neighborhood yet, and nobody seemed to be. As usual, they had called the Sheriff's Office only a few minutes previously, after they filled up the tank, and they were reasonably certain that they had a good fifteen minutes before anybody showed up. They pulled up next to the driveway, the Chevy's tires crunching quietly on the caliche road. The old man had gotten up at four, a habit from his years in the Marine Corps. He'd retired as a Gunnery Sergeant after almost thirty years of service. When the bounty hunters pulled up, he'd been digging in the closet of one of the rooms facing the caliche alley and heard them pull up. It was overcast and the closet was dark, so he had his heavy aluminum police flashlight with him. He switched it off as he looked out the window and watched them walking, as quietly as a white man could, easing up the porch steps. It was built high off the ground in this low area. He wondered what they were up to. He wondered if they were trying to sneak up on him as he went to the door to greet them. He really wasn't expecting any trouble and stepped out the door as the men were getting set to break it in. Charlie was pointing his lead-filled slap-stick at Smiley, who had a pair of handcuffs at the ready in his hands. When the old man pushed the door open, Charlie hesitated, but swung the heavy sap anyway. The old man was surprised, but acting on old reflexes, ducked under the flailing arm, spun under it with his true infantryman's instinct and brought the heavy flashlight down hard on Charlie's wrist. The loud crunch of metal on bone echoed off the wooden sides of the house. The sudden rush of adrenalin sent his mind flashing back to his last hand-to-hand combat and suddenly he was back on Hill 504, out of ammo with the Chi-Coms and Koreans coming over the wire. With the satisfying crunch of bone still echoing in the old man's ears, he spun away and behind Charlie. As Charlie stumbled forward, the old Gunny brought the bludgeoning flashlight down across the back of Charlie's head, separating his spine from his skull with the heavy blow. Again he felt and heard the satisfying crunch. "One dead, Commie," he muttered subconsciously as he stepped warily toward Smiley. Smiley stood in stunned surprise, watching Charlie nose dive into the wooden porch without raising his hands to break his fall. Charlie was dead before his face stopped skidding. The back of his head gaping wide open. The old Gunny's grim smile sent a jolt of fear-induced adrenalin through Smiley. In a quick glimpse, almost as if taking a snapshot, Smiley saw a few drops of blood flying from the blood-spattered metal tool. As he saw the old man advancing on him, he panicked, dropped the handcuffs and, suddenly remembering his pistol, fought it out of the holster, entangling it with his shirt before he could bring it to bear on the old man. The old Gunny's face was a snarling rictus of hate for the Communist sonuvabitch that he now saw in front of him. Smiley's finger slipped through the trigger guard, jerking off a shot and almost shooting a hole in his foot. He tried to bring the .357 to bear on the old Gunny, jerking the trigger reflexively. The old man literally waltzed around him just ahead of the turning muzzle, steadily closing in on Smiley as Smiley grinned and jerked off hasty shots at him. The old Gunny was inside Smiley's reach as his pistol clicked on the spent chamber. Smiley glanced down uncomprehending at the sudden pain of his knuckles splintering from an under-handed smash of the old Gunny's deadly flashlight. A screaming fiery jolt shot up Smiley's arm. It was cut short with a heavy, slashing blow, bludgeoning across his temple with all the force of his old muscles. Smiley's head snapped sideways, sending him almost unconscious as the money blow literally swept his head off his shoulders. He went down as heavily as Charlie as the old Gunny held his hands and flashlight out turning slowly as if waiting for the next one. "STAND DOWN, MARINE," he heard the American voice through the adrenalin haze, "I SAID, STAND DOWN." He eased back up, shaking his head and dropped his hands, looking around. Constable Reyes, a fellow former Marine, stood by the bottom step, the lights on his car still strobing redly. He heard the wail of several more sirens closing in as he looked down, staring in confusion at the dead "Commies." His flashlight fell from his suddenly nerveless hand, clattering loudly on the porch's wooden deck as he dropped heavily into one of his lawn chairs, pressing a shaking hand to his forehead. "You okay, Gunny?" Reyes asked in concern. "Water," the old man gasped, nodding, "please, get me some water, would you, Tommy?" "Sure, Gunny," he waved the City Police Officer up onto the porch, "go in and get him a glass of water, please," he nodded his head into the house, then spoke to the old man, "what happened?" "W-well, I've been getting the house ready to sell," the old man muttered weakly, "then I saw this car pull up and these two clowns sneaking up the steps," he tried to take the glass of water but his hands shook too much so Reyes held it up to his trembling lips. The old man remembered shaking like this after that last mission, it was the after-effects of the adrenalin clearing his system. If the AmTraks hadn't fought through to them, that day, he'd have been one more of the bodies littering that goddam hill. "When I come out," he continued, pointing a wavering hand at Charlie, "that one swung at me and it all suddenly caved in on me, you know?" he didn't elaborate, but Reyes had heard the story from other sources, so he understood, "from there I don't know what happened." Constable Reyes had arrived a little late, for these two pendejos, and had ducked behind his car, weapon in hand, when Smiley began firing. "The old bastard's still got it in him," he half-grinned and shook his head in amazed wonder. "Yeah, Gunny, I saw it all," he soothed gently, "I know, buddy, I know." A few minutes later, an ambulance pulled up, followed a few minutes later by another. Charlie and Smiley were very obviously dead and, as the coroner in The Wizard of Oz had said, they were "most sincerely dead," so the medics concentrated on the old man. He was none the worse for the wear, just very shaken and apologetic about it. The Sheriff arrived with the coroner and examined the scene. They took a few pictures of the crime scene before letting the newspaper reporters come up. Constable Reyes, taking over as the old man's protector, kept them pretty much at bay, telling them what he'd seen. It made for some pretty splashy headlines on a slow news day. Constable Reyes stayed at the scene, writing his report as he kept an eye on the old Marine. "Who were those guys," the Gunny asked. "Bounty hunters," Reyes responded, pulling his reading glasses off, "they had a bondsman's warrant for a man living at 3450 Country Road 41A, with a description," he half-grinned again. "Then why did they come here? This is 3448. 3450 is old John's house, across the callejón over there," he gestured across the caliche alley. "Got the address wrong, I guess," Reyes really smiled this time, "ain't nobody gonna cry over these two," he went back to writing his report, "they're a couple of pistoleros desgraciados who thought they was bad." "Fucking pair of maggots wouldn't be more'n a smear under a Marine's boot," the old Gunny muttered. "Yes they are," Reyes nodded putting away his pen and closing his clipboard. "What?" the Gunny turned to Reyes. "Just a smear under an old Gunny's boot, Tío," he shook his head, still in awe of the old Gunny's expertise, "just a smear under an old Gunny's boot." "What a couple of stupids." "Yep," Reyes nodded, "the county will be sending out a crew to clean this mess off your porch sometime in the next twenty-four hours, okay?" The old Gunny nodded. Constable Reyes spotted something small on the porch. It looked like a piece of fat with a streak of red in it. As he bent and examined it closer, he realized that it was a bit of one of the bounty hunter's brains, he smiled rising to his feet, and deliberately pressed his boot on it, sliding it back and forth, smearing it satisfyingly into the sole of his boot. "There's a few left to go," he thought to himself, "for the most part, they're good, hard-working tough guys, but there's always these few shit-heads." He returned to sit by the Gunny companionably for a few minutes longer, until his family began arriving. Reyes had called the Gunny's only son who'd evidently alerted the rest of the clan. He stayed and talked with Quinto, his cousin, the old man's only son, for a few minutes. The ex-wife arrived, too, so Reyes said good-bye, saying he had to get back to file his report. "I'll be back after work, Tío," he smiled, "rest and take it easy," he poked Quinto in his large belly, "make this pansón do some of the work." The two squabbled good-naturedly for a few minutes before they both walked to Reyes' car still poking each other good-naturedly. "I wonder what they wanted old John for?" "I don't know," Quinto shrugged. Constable Reyes waved old John over as he came out to see what the commotion was all about this early on a Sunday morning, his over-size handlebar mustache leading the way prominently. -- 30 -- ****** By the way, I just finished another one. It'll sit for a few days before I proof-read it and see if it doesn't sound too stupid. Auf Wiedersehen