The Mission War by Wesley Ellis Page B

around slowly, she saw that the outlaws still slept, except possibly for the guard out front and the one in the back alley.
    Ki was there and wonderfully alert. He had pasted on a mustache and borrowed some clothing, but it was Ki and Jessie’s heart lifted slightly, suddenly, as Ki nodded toward the back corridor.
    They were going to try it. They were going to try to make their escape from under the guns of Mono and his band of criminals. They had no weapons, not even Ki’s shuriken, but it was time—it was the best chance they had had, the best they might ever have.
    â€œNow,” Ki said so softly that his voice hardly carried to Jessica who looked into his eyes, making sure that she had made no mistake in what she heard. Ki nodded and shifted the broom slightly. He began backing toward the hallway, his head inclining again, urging Jessica to follow.
    She bolted out of her chair and all hell broke loose.
    Mono hadn’t been as sleepy as he had looked, nor had the Indian, Halcón, and another man to Ki’s left. The Indian grabbed at Jessie as she passed his chair, caught her sleeve, and yanked her back. Jessie went for his eyes with stiffened fingers, but Halcón was able to turn his head away. He fell back over his chair and regained his balance, still gripping Jessica’s sleeve tightly.
    He laughed out loud at her temerity. He hadn’t counted on any trouble from the peon who was sweeping up the cantina. But he got plenty of it.
    Ki was a man of the martial arts and he had a weapon in his hand. The broom.
    Once Ki had spent many, many hours working with a master of the art of fighting with a staff. The broom was close enough to a weapon. Ki turned on one heel and brought the handle of the broom up into Halcón’s midsection, driving the air painfully from his diaphragm. The bandit oofed and plopped back into his chair, losing his hold on Jessie’s arm.
    To Ki’s left, a bandit drew his revolver and aimed it with liquor-fogged eyes. Ki’s broom seemed simply to swat the gun away. The Mexican howled with pain and clutched at his broken wrist.
    Jessie was darting toward the corridor as Ki spun again, unleashed a stunning backward kick that landed on Mono’s heart, and followed with the handle of the broom. He struck the bandit leader above the eye and rocked him back on his heels.
    A bullet flew across the room, punching a hole through a barrel near Sanchez’s head, and Ki chose the better part of valor, making his own dash toward the corridor and hurling himself the last few feet as three or four more bullets ripped at the adobe walls, spattering Ki with plaster.
    Jessie was at the end of the corridor, poised at the door opening to the alley. As Ki watched, the door popped open and Arturo, clawing at his sleep-encrusted eyes, entered the corridor.
    Ki had been expecting that and he never stopped his running motion. With a cry of combat rising to his lips, Ki executed a flying kick that sent Arturo reeling back into the alley, clutching his throat. Ki took Jessie’s hand, leaped over the thrashing bandit’s body, and raced up the alley.
    Mono and his men were tight on their heels. A fusillade of bullets traced their way through the alley, slamming into walls, penetrating barrels and piles of splintered lumber, and ricocheting crazily into the dry, bright day.
    â€œThere!” Ki said, and Jessie threw herself into the mouth of a connecting alley, Ki following right behind.
    â€œWhich way now?” she asked breathlessly.
    Ki answered, “The church. Maria said it was safe there. The church, Jessica, hurry!”
    There wasn’t much time for discussion, so Jessie went along with the idea. From behind them, they could hear much cursing, the rush of boots and Mono shouting a hysterical command.
    They crossed the plaza without being seen, entered yet another alley, and circled toward the mission church. The heavy gates were shut and presumably barred.