Dylan woke up, cold, thirsty, and unaware of where he was. The last thing he could remember was the battle, which seemed that it went fairly well until someone behind him knocked him off his horse and he was suddenly surrounded by Spaniards. His memory was bleak at this moment, and all he remembered was a cloth over his nose. His head was heavy, and the cold wind chilled his bones through his flexed muscles.
Must’ve been an anesthetic, he thought and sighed. His hands were tied to wooden poles behind him and his uniform was ripped to shreds. The only thing left were his navy dress pants which weren’t very dressy anymore, in fact they weren't navy anymore but more of a dark brown. He struggled to get at least one hand undone but the effort burned his wrists and drained his little strength. He had been kidnapped by foreigners who probably didn’t speak English, or it was a setup. The only reason he was out fighting was because his dad told him to, which didn't seem like a good reason knowing Maroni wasn't even the mayor.
Dylan did happen to hear his father and Barry distinctively talk about Irene and this battle at the same time. Good thing I told her to not come, the whole purpose was to come after her. That thought sparked up another into his blurry brain. Maybe I got kidnapped on purpose! I was purposely pushed off my horse, purposely unconscious, and purposely tied to these poles all because Irene didn’t come help. Now since I was kidnapped, Irene is going to try and find me, and when she does, she’ll be killed!
That scary thought haunted Dylan. He needed to get out of there and find Irene. If she were to die saving him, he would blame himself forever. He quickly investigated his surroundings: he was in a tent. It was neither wide nor long, and the only thing in there... were torture weapons. Dylan took a long stare at the dangerous weapons and decided maybe he could reach the rake that was only a few feet from him.
Twisting his body, his right foot was capable of knocking the rake over and it successfully landed in his lap. He smiled, knowing he could now escape and save Irene from her fate. As he was about to now cut his right wrist, it escaped his grasp as another man took the rake away from him.
A smack across the blunt end of the rake showed Dylan that this was harder than he thought and that Spaniards probably didn't play nice.
“You thought of escaping?” a man with a Spanish accent asked. His skin was tan, and his hair was gelled back and his mustache trimmed perfectly showing his style of wanting to look formal.
“Maybe,” Dylan shrugged as much as he could, "how long was I out?"
"More than a day," the man smirked at him and then put the sharp edges just below his neck, barely touching his skin, “Where is your petty girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend,” Dylan said, confused.
“Por favor, all of us know your with the outlaw,” the man scoffed.
“What do you want with her?” Dylan asked.
“She took our money and killed half our men-”
“That explains your forty man army,” Dylan smiled, interrupting him.
The man ignored his snarky statement, “She owes us a favor, and that will be time in prison, or even a hanging for all the crimes she’s done.”
“You won’t catch her, you couldn’t even fight her if you tried. She is the best fighter out there, her strength is stronger than ten men, her flexibility is better than a piece of straw-”
“Oh, so you’ve tested her flexibility then? In bed perhaps?” He asked, with no emotion at all.
“What is with all these sexual comments!? I have not slept with her!” Dylan sounded aghast.
“You haven’t? That’s strange...”
“How so?” Dylan asked curiously.
“You haven’t heard of her reputation? She was once a prostitute where she slept for money, but then she decided to just seduce men to get what she wanted, whether death, information, or even just for the joy of it. I would’ve assumed she slept with you once or twice already, assuming she really likes you.”
“Well, think about this. She sleeps with people she doesn’t care about, and she hasn’t slept with me yet. So maybe she actually wants to take things slow with me.”
“I actually never thought of that,” the guy asked, finally removing the rake from his throat, “but the only issue is that she refused Maroni of pleasure in which he offered a clean slate for herself.”
“What?! My own father wanted to bargain in which she offered sexuality for a new life! My father is sick!” Dylan was full of horror.
“She refused, or at least I think she did.”
“So... is that why my father wants her? To have sex then throw her in prison or death?” Dylan asked slowly.
"Possibly. I don't know for sure. All I know is that I get a lot of gold coming out of this," the man smirked.
Dylan just sat there for a while, trying to connect all the pieces of the puzzle. Irene could totally be using him and he is just so "in love" with her that he doesn't realize she's using him for information. Although, she hasn't asked much about Maroni, she just asked him more about himself, which is what couples did he guessed.
He didn’t know what to believe from anyone now.
Irene stood over the cliff that overlooked the earlier battle. She sniffed the piece of clothing that she had sprayed with Dylan’s perfume after a daring pursuit just to get into his room. She waved it around Blackie who started sniffing it, hoping he could catch Dylan’s scent. Blackie barked and Tayati, two other Indians, Birdy, and Sophie chased after Blackie on their horses. Irene sighed and thought about getting up on her horse.
She hadn’t slept in days. Nightmares haunted her every second her eyes closed and her body relaxed. Sophie constantly had to watch Irene, hoping that her comfort would prevent an incoming bullet of darkness and evil, but not even her gentle touch could prevent them. Sophie tried her best to help Irene sleep but it didn't seem to work at all. Sophie had never asked what they were about, but she figured it was about Dylan, which it was of course. Irene knew he wasn't dead, or she was just stupid to believe he wasn't; but Sophie had a feeling that Dylan wasn't dead either.
Irene sighed and got on her horse to follow them, using her spurs to pinch the horses skin to accelerate it. The horse galloped away then went into a full sprint, jumping over logs and avoiding trees, trying to please its rider. Eventually Irene caught up but found her little detectives staring over a cliff, and Sophie covering Blackie's muzzle.
"What's going on?" Irene asked, looking over the edge as they were doing and saw a small group of people living in tents.
"We found them, or we at least found a group who has seen the Marshall," Birdy said, trying to smile.
"How do we know he's there or been here?" she questioned Birdy.
"Because, I see a very familiar face," Sophie handed Irene her spyglass. Irene grabbed it and looked through, with quite a surprise on her own face. Her nose scrunched up for a few seconds, she lowered the spyglass and handed it back Sophie.
"What!? Who is it?" Birdy yelled, then later lowered her voice.
"Barry..." Sophie said his name with slight disgust, "Irene, what's your plan?"
"Sophie, if you can handle the sniper, I would like you to stay here and just to shoot near a person, if necessary you can shoot the person. I don't really want a bloodbath. Indians, I want you to go towards the front of the small caravan. These aren't stable homes, so these people must be nomads no doubt. Again, Tayati I don't want you to kill anyone, just injure them or miss, all I want is a distraction. Birdy, you will chase after Barry when he leaves. I want him alive and able to talk. Can you do that?" Irene asked and Birdy returned with a nod, "okay. I'm going to let Blackie find Dylan first, and I'll just follow him till I find the Marshall."
"Miss, what happens if the Marshall ain't here?" One of Taya's Indian friends asked.
"Well, he was obviously here, so if he is not here anymore, someone here will know where he is, or where he is going," she sighed and jumped off her horse, handing Sophie the long sniper from her saddle.
"What will you be equipped with Irene?" Sophie asked out of curiosity.
"I got two revolvers in my holsters,and another mini one down my shirt. I have two daggers in my boots, bullets in my bag, and just in case I have five tranquilizers as well."
"You seemed prepared for a World War," another Indian laughed.
"I'm prepared for anything. Who knows? This could become a World War, I just highly doubt it," Irene smiled and loaded her bullets one by one.
"Operation Savior starting, and Team Irene is ready to go!" Birdy shouted with a deep voice while everyone stared at her, "What? We need a team name."
"Not now Birdy, lets think about that nonsense later," Irene sighed and started walking away.
Birdy started to write down in a small notebook, smiling, while Sophie asked, "What are you doing?"
"We're going to make history, I just know it. So, I'm logging down everything important so children in the future will know of our victories, and I'm also noting down that Irene ignored my team name idea."
"Alright you freak," Tayati grunted, "lets just get going."
"Freak?" Birdy asked, "You're one to talk."
Dylan asked, "Whats you name?" Maybe he could find a way to get on this guys softer side, maybe just able to get himself free.
"Fransisco," he answered willingly.
"A pleasure, I'm Dylan," the Marshall.
"I know who you are," Francisco growled.
"I'm just trying to be polite," Dylan laughed a little, his slight British accent escaping his lips.
"You look almost exactly like your father, like an exact replica," Francisco began to tell his prisoner the observations he happened to be noticing.
"I can truly say I am nothing like him, honestly, I am probably the complete opposite," Dylan chuckled nervously, knowing that it wasn't entirely true.
"Yes, you have your father's look but your mother's heart," the man said, "yes, I knew your mother. Good lass."
"What does you knowing about her have do to anything with me?" Dylan asked.
"It means I do respect your mother, and also I respect the child she loved, so I'm just telling you I respect you and your wishes to save your sweetheart but I also respect my peoples wishes in that they need money. If you please excuse me for a moment, I'm going to get you water," he stood up and left the tent, taking the rake with him.
Dylan sighed, knowing the only thing he could do right now was wait.
But he didn't have to wait for long.
Blackie came rushing into the tent full speed and had a big smile on his face, if dogs (or wolves) could smile. Dylan jumped back in fear not recognizing the dog at first, but the dog immediately began chewing the rope on his left wrist. He figured the dog obviously was Irene's because he'd seen it with her but also because nobody else would have a wolf as a best friend, the only crazy one to do that would be Irene. As soon as Blackie chewed though it, Dylan easily reached for a knife and cut the rope off his wrist.
Even though he was afraid of the wolf, he figured it wouldn't harm him to pat the dog on the head as a thanks. The dog wagged his tail in delight and then whined for more. Dylan then scratched the back of his ear and smiled.
"You! You escaped!" Fransisco ran in immediately and pulled out his gun as he saw the black canine in the tent. Dylan stepped in front of the dog to protect him, but Blackie immediately jumped up and clenched his jaws into the mans arm, and he screamed in pain and shot the trigger. Dylan gasped in shock as the dog whelped and was flung to the floor, but was even more shocked that his new friend pointed the gun at Dylan.
The trigger was pulled and the bullet skimmed Dylan's shin. Dylan yelled and cried tears of pain. Frannsisco stepped closer, still shaking the gun near Dylan's head as he was grabbing his shin.
"I won't shoot your other shin if you allow me to tie you back against the wall," he commanded at Dylan with a scared voice.
"That won't be necessary," a familiar, cute voice said as a pole was rammed to the side oof Fransisco's face, knocking him out.
Irene immediately ran to Dylan's side, staring at his bleeding leg and touching his thigh for comfort.
"It's... not as bad as it looks," Dylan grimaced and grabbed Irene's hand.
"Here," she stood up, pulling his hand along with her trying to get him to stand up, "Can you stand fine?" she asked.
"Yeah, he said, "It's just a scratch."
"Can you run?" she asked, letting go of his hand and checking her guns.
"Will that be necessary?" he questioned.
"Don't know yet," she sighed and handed him one of her pistols, "Just in case you need one."
"Irene," he grabbed her arm as she was about to leave the tent, "thank you."
She slightly blushed, but had a smile on her face, "A rescue mission is fun every once in a while. Just not often, so, don't get into any more trouble please."
"I didn't get into trouble, trouble was already planned out and got me," he smiled, "but then a brave rescurer came and saved me."
"That's my job ain't it? Anyways, time to get going, I don't know how much time the Indians will give us," she said and grabbed the pole off the ground that she had used against Fransisco.
"Wait! What about-" he was going to say Blackie, but he had never noticed the Blackie's body was gone. Little did he know that Blackie happened to walk out of the room and Dylan barely noticed.
"He fakes it all the time, he can be a drama king," she smiled and walked out of the tent into sunshine. Dylan followed her, staying close to her with his gun raised, willing to protect her at any cost. It was silent where they were, most of the action was in the front of the tented areas.
"Hey!" a voice yelled and five men jumped out of their tents with bayonets and knives. They encircled the Marshall and the Outlaw, giving them no escape to run.
Dylan whispered in her ear as they went back to back, "Think we can take them?"
"I want you to duck," she said.
"Now!" she yelled and flung the pole around as it bashed into their faces. Dylan got up after and immediately punched one in the face. Irene then grabbed something from her pouch, something that looked like a cannonball, but had a fuse: a grenade. The men immediately jerked back as they saw her light the fuse. She flinched the grenade towards them and they started to run away.
"Well, throw it!" Dylan shrieked as he saw the fuse almost ending.
"Relax," she gave him a dirty look and watched the fuse die out, with no explosion occurring.
"A fake," he said, calming himself down and putting his hand on his bare chest.
"No duh detective..." she said and dropped it on the ground, finding no further use of it, "Time to go."
"Not so fast love," a man with an accent said and grabbed Dylan. Fransisco wrapped his right arm around the Marshall's neck in a chokehold. Irene grabbed her pistol and immediately aimed for his head, but found no shot available.
"Irene, come to me, and I will not suffocate him," he said waving his hand in motion for her to come.
"Irene no!" Dylan said with little breath as Fransisco's strong arm squeezed the air path to Dylan's lungs.
"You don't have forever," he smiled.
"Fine!" Irene yelled and Dylan was immediately dropped to the dirt, wheezing and coughing. She dropped both her pistol and pole as she ran to him, but another man came by and grabbed them, instantly thrashing the pole at Irene's head, knocking her out cold. Dylan grabbed her body away from Fransisco's reach.
"Don't hurt her," he said.
"We need her."
"I have gold. You can take me instead of her and all the gold in my bank account. I don't care, I only want her safe. Take everything except her, she's all that matters. Please, I love her," he begged.
Fransisco lowered his weapon and sighed, "I do owe your mother a favor, so I guess this is it. I want two hundred dollars given to me by the next week. You can take her, your love for her is strong, but a little reckless. Don't overdo it, please, I know what its like to be in love, but I guess I loved her too much, and it was paid costly towards me. Leave, before I change my mind."
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