Free The Killing Shot by Johnny D. Boggs Page A

look up, but Harrah, Duke, and The Greek did.
    â€œGot a chore for you, Greek,” Pardo said.
    Silently, The Greek waited.
    â€œYou and your Sharps.”
    Now, the swarthy man smiled, and looked at the corral. “Him?”
    Pardo nodded. “Wait till we leave camp, then follow us. We’ll ride down in the valley a bit. Stay in range. Might not have to do nothing, but I want you to back my play.”
    â€œI always do,” The Greek said.
    â€œYou’re gonna kill him, boss man?” Duke blurted out, a little louder than he should have, but likely not loud enough to be heard over in the corral.
    â€œYou got the brains God gave a cactus, Duke. Shut up.” Back to The Greek: “ I want to kill him. But if something happens…”
    The Greek tossed his cards into the dust. He reached for the Sharps. “I never miss, Pardo. If you don’t get him, I will. There’s a science into making that killing shot, and I’m a scientist. It’s all—”
    â€œI don’t give a damn. Just do your job.”
    With that, Pardo strode over to the corral.
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    The game was over, not that it had been much of a poker game. Not playing against fools like Harrah and Duke, Wade Chaucer thought, although The Greek had some skill. They watched Pardo and the man known only as Mac ride slowly out of camp.
    â€œI should go.” Slowly, The Greek finished wiping the brass telescope on his Sharps, stuck the rag in his vest pocket, and started to rise.
    â€œIt would be a shame,” Chaucer said absently.
    The Greek shouldered the heavy rifle. He said nothing.
    Duke, stupid Duke, had to ask the question. “What would be a shame, Wade?”
    With a grin, Chaucer shrugged. “Why…if The Greek happened to miss, just once.”
    The silence kicked like that big .45-70 rifle The Greek held. Chaucer looked across the camp. Ruby Pardo had retired to her tent. Phil was on guard duty. The woman and her kid sat quietly in a corner, and Three-Fingers Lacy was somewhere sleeping off a drunk.
    â€œYou’re talking dangerous,” The Greek said.
    Chaucer shrugged again. “I’m just thinking out loud. Thinking about how tragic it would be if somehow Pardo got himself killed. Accidentally, I’m thinking. Thinking of how nice things might be were things to change.”
    â€œYou’d best watch it, Wade,” Harrah said.
    â€œI’ve been watching.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I watched that Army payroll go up in flames because Jim Pardo is an idiot. How much money have we seen in the past eight months? I told you how we should have robbed that train.”
    â€œI need to get moving,” The Greek said, but his boots remained planted.
    â€œWe could have gone to Dos Cabezas, too,” Chaucer said, “instead of coming back here. That posse, any posse, would have given up long before then.”
    â€œI wanted to,” Duke said. “They’s women in Dos Cabezas.”
    â€œThere’s women…a woman, at least…here, too.” Chaucer stared at Dagmar Wilhelm. “A fine-looking woman. And Lacy, well, she has certain charms, too.”
    â€œYou heard what Pardo said about that woman,” Harrah said dryly. “And if you try something with Lacy…”
    â€œI’ve heard what Jim Pardo has said about lots of things,” Chaucer said. He found a cigar. “Mind you, I’m just thinking out loud.”
    â€œI’d better go.” This time, The Greek moved.
    â€œGood luck, Greek,” Chaucer called out. “But, yes, sir, it sure would be a shame….”
    When The Greek disappeared, Chaucer’s laugh frightened off Harrah and Duke. Chaucer started to light the cigar, thought better of it, and decided to walk across camp, see if Three-Fingers Lacy had awakened from her little nap.
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    They were being followed.
    Reilly knew that much, and he knew Pardo