Free Dirty Harry 01 - Duel For Cannons by Dane Hartman

time off. Harry agreed. On his own time and with his own money, the cop reserved a ticket to San Antonio, Texas.
    Harry’s reception in the large Texas city was as chilly as it had been in California. No sooner had he stepped off the plane at the San Antonio International Airport than he found four lawmen waiting for him.
    Two of the uniformed men carefully took Harry’s bag and suit carrier out of his hands. The third stood by, his hand gently, but noticeably, resting on his holstered gun butt. The fourth, and eldest, officer, dressed in a sheriff’s finery, stood directly in front of Harry with a big smile on his face and both thumbs hooked into a thick, wide, gun belt.
    As Harry looked slowly and silently at the two standing men and the two others who were diligently tearing his luggage apart, all the other tourists walked around the scene, their happy entry into the town turning into a hushed hurried exit. The officers of the law hadn’t even waited until Callahan got out of the arrival area.
    Finally the suitcase search was over. Harry’s clothes were strewn across the lounge rug. So far not one word had been spoken. The smug sheriff with the hooked thumbs was the first to break the silence.
    “Welcome to San Antonio,” he began, his voice a classic Texas twang. “I hope you don’t mind but we have reason to suspect a thorough search of yer person might be in orda.”
    Harry answered by narrowing his eyes, letting his lip infinitesimally curl off his teeth, then raised his arms. The two suitcase searchers approached and patted him down just as casually and callously as they had strewn his luggage about.
    Soon his pocket money, key chain, and wallet had joined his clothes on the floor. His belt was taken off, his shoes were removed, and even his cufflinks were scrutinized. Finally the pair of officers moved back, looking at their superior with resignation.
    The sheriff moved forward until the top of his cowboy hat was level with Harry’s forehead. Pulling out his own long barrel revolver he gently tapped Harry’s crotch as he spoke.
    “We was jes kinda wonderin’, you know, whether you thought about bringin’ yer weapon along.”
    Harry looked down with a slight look of surprise, but when he replied, his voice was a quiet, threatening snarl. “You and I both know that would be illegal.”
    “That it would,” said the sheriff, stopping his tapping. “That it would. Just how long are you fixin’ on staying in our fair city, Inspector Callahan?”
    “Just long enough to straighten out a few things,” said Harry, looking pointedly at the three other cops. Back to the sheriff, he added “not too long at all.”
    The sheriff’s smile wavered a bit, but held on. “Now that’s good to hear,” he answered pleasantly, motioning to his men to leave. “Y’all take care, hear?” he said to Harry as he backed out of the waiting room.
    “You, too,” said Harry quietly. Callahan wasn’t sure if the sheriff heard him and the sheriff wasn’t sure Harry actually said it. Whatever the reason, the Texas lawmen left without further incident.
    It was not a good sign, Harry sardonically decided as he surveyed his strewn belongings. Even though his visit was officially described as unofficial, and Lieutenant Bressler certainly wouldn’t call ahead to tell the Texas law of his inspector’s arrival, the newly replaced sheriff of San Antonio proper knew Harry was coming. He knew far enough ahead to be waiting for him. Harry wondered if the sheriff was the only one who knew.
    He discovered the answer soon enough. As the supposedly vacationing Californian did his best to collect his clothes without looking ridiculous, a small group of teenagers collected at the door of the arrival lounge. Harry kept collecting until he noticed that the kids all looked pretty smug and all seemed to know each other.
    “Anything I can help you with?” he asked, bent at the waist to retrieve a wrinkled shirt.
    “Hey, no, man,” said a