“There’s a guard.” Reb stated in a whisper as he and Jonah lay on the ground beneath a large spruce on a rise that looked down at the fort where Jonah was sure Scarlett was keeping his son. Joe, Bart and Sheriff Phillips, who had demanded everyone to call him Phil since that’s what his friends called him, were back with the horses. Jonah had left Joe behind for two reasons.

Reason one, he hadn’t been sure what they would see and had wanted to protect her from that and reason two being that he was merely wanting to observe the fort before figuring out a plan of action and for Joe the words ‘observe’ and ‘plan’ didn’t exist.

Jonah looked around the fort to assess the situation. There was a mansion built in the middle of the fort where the old barracks would have been. There were still several small buildings which Jonah knew probably housed the many men that were milling around inside the tall log walls.

                Jonah saw the man on the outside of the walls that Reb was referring to. He was standing alone beside the east wall. The only other guards posted that they could see from here were in the watchtowers on either side of the door on the north wall.

                “We need that man.” Jonah replied and Reb nodded in agreement.

                “Let’s go get him then.”

                Jonah looked around them. It was a few hours before sunset but the thick pine forest was already growing darker. Moving silently, Jonah and Reb flitted behind the trees, approaching the man who was leaning against the log wall, his carbine held loosely in his arms.

                Jonah realized the man was sleeping while he stood. His head was down and his chin was resting on his chest. The Stetson on his head kept Jonah from seeing his face but from the even rising and falling of his breaths it was easy enough to see that the man was catching a nap.

                “Keep an eye out Reb.” Jonah whispered and Reb nodded.

                “Got my best one on it.” He replied and Jonah would have laughed if his nerves had been a tight and tangled knot, bunching and coiling in his gut. Being this close to where he knew his son was had Jonah wanting to burst in, guns blazing and get the boy back while making all those responsible for taking him in the first place pay with blood. Then the sensible part of his mind broke in and told him that would only serve to get himself and his son killed.     

                Jonah glanced around one last time to ensure that he would remain unseen by the guards in the watchtower and then he approached the sleeping man, staying crouched and low to the ground. The man shoulder was propped against the wall and Jonah made short work of coming up behind him and wrapping his arm tight around his throat.

                The man came awake in a rush and Jonah quickly used his free hand to knock the carbine away before the man could fire a shot. It took every ounce of strength that Jonah had to hold the struggling man in place and sweat quickly slicked his brow as his muscles began to ache. Then slowly the man’s resistance began to fade and all at once the man slumped in his arms.

                Jonah quickly loosened up his hold to keep from killing the bastard. He wanted him unconscious not dead.         

                A bird whistle had Jonah looking over his shoulder to where he’d left Reb and the man held up one finger. Jonah knew that someone must be coming. Quickly he grabbed the carbine from the ground and let the guard’s body fall. He took a deep breath and listened to the footfalls getting closer as he slid silently to the corner.

                The instant the second guard came around the wall Jonah gripped the barrel of the carbine and swung with all his might. The sound of crunching bones filled the quiet air as the carbine’s stock crashed against the unsuspecting man’s temple and he fell to the ground as his legs crumpled beneath him.

                Jonah checked him for a pulse and there was none. A moment of guilt tore at him but left quickly when he thought of his son and the hell the boy had probably been going through.

                It seemed that life could turn even the most honest and gentle of men into murdering monsters. It just took the right set of circumstances to push on you long enough and a person was capable of anything.

                Reb jogged over and grabbed the dead man’s ankles. “I’ll hide him, you get the other guy. Let’s be quick about it, Jonah.”

                “Naw, Reb, I figured we’d just do this all slow and leisurely-like.” Jonah grumbled and Reb chuckled.

                “Good to see that you’re sense of sarcastic wit has remained intact through all of this.”

***

                Joe was pacing the beside the horses, all her nerves on edge and her body feeling as if it could quite possibly self- combust at any moment. She felt sorry for Sheriff Phillips as he watched her pacing. She had threatened the man’s life a short while ago after his seventh attempt at getting her to sit down and the man had seemed quite scared and ready to run since.

                Bart had attempted, once only, to comfort and reassure her but she had silenced the man with only a look. She may have forgiven him for the past but that did not mean she was in any hurry to be his friend now. And she sure as hell didn’t need him telling her to stay calm or that everything would be alright!

                Joe was pissed. She was pissed that Jonah had insisted she stayed behind and yet she understood, at least deep down beneath her raging temper and growing uneasiness, why he had.  Jonah knew her and he knew that she would have had a hard time not charging in with her gun drawn to find Clayton and put a bullet in Scarlett’s face…. She also knew that Jonah wanted to protect her from seeing something that neither of them were prepared to see even in their worst nightmares. 

                She let out a growl and kicked a pinecone. She needed to be with Jonah. If something bad happened while he was there, or if something bad had already happened and Jonah saw it, then he would need her. They needed one another. She was about to go after him when the sound of approaching footsteps caused her to freeze.

                She reached for her gun and realized that the Sheriff and Bart had done the same.

                “Dammit, Jonah, next time ya decide to take a prisoner, let’s make sure it ain’t such a big bastard.” Reb’s voice came from the darkening shadows and Joe felt her entire body fill with relief when Jonah came into view. She had been so frightened that something bad would happen to him and seeing him alive, well, uninjured and helping to carry an unconscious man, was enough to make her happier than she’d been in nearly a week.

                Jonah dropped the body and signaled at Bart to tie it up before crossing the pine needle laden ground with long strides and sweeping Joe into his arms. She clung to him, no longer caring about appearing weak or needy. Those days were behind her. When it came to Jonah, she was weak and she did need him. If anybody had anything sarcastic, rude or just plain annoying to say about it then she would shoot them in the ass.

                “How’d things look?” Sheriff Phillips asked, his voice clear that he hated interrupted their moment. Joe turned in Jonah’s arms and he pulled her into his chest, still holding her tight. Joe leaned into his embrace and glanced to the unconscious man now hogtied beside the horses.

                “Like a fort with a damn mansion built inside of it, Phil.” Jonah replied. “And lots and lots of guards. I’m not real sure what she’s running here but that’s what he’s for.” Jonah tipped his head toward the tied man and the sheriff nodded. Then he put his hands over his badge and quickly removed it from his vest before shoving it deep in his pocket.

                “Before he can be any damned help we gotta wake his ass up.” Reb said with a grin and then he pulled out his canteen of water from his saddlebags and poured it over the unconscious man’s head.

                The man came to with a sputter and a curse and then his curses grew louder when he saw the four people standing over him and began jerking at the ropes that were binding him.

                “What the hell is going on?!” he demanded.

                “Yer gonna help us out.” Joe replied calmly as she crouched down to be more on his level.

                “Who the hell are you?” the man demanded.    

                “My name’s Joe Winchester and I believe yer bitch whore of a boss has my son.” The man paled significantly.

                “Shit.”

                “Yeah, shit.” Jonah growled. “Now we need you to answer a few questions for us.”

                “And why exactly would I do that?” The man sneered and Joe found her foot moving on its own according and slamming into the man’s ribs, causing him to grunt as all the air came out of his lungs in a whoosh.

                “That’s why.” She snapped.

                “Bitch!” the man gasped, his blue eyes bright with pain.  “If I get my hands on you I’ll…..”

                The man stopped talking very quickly when Jonah pulled his gun and pressed it to his temple. “You’ll not lay a hand on her if you enjoy breathing, friend.”

                “Go ahead and pull that trigger.” The man said with a laugh. “Men will swarm these woods like a pack of wolves and kill all of you.”

                “He’s right, Jonah.” Bart said quietly. “You can’t shoot him. Though it is awfully tempting….” Joe saw Bart’s hand close around the handle of his own revolver.

                Jonah took a deep breath and put his gun away but then he pulled his knife. “Alright then, we’ll do this your way. We should be far enough away to keep his screams from being heard, right?” Jonah asked as he looked up at Phil. The sheriff nodded.

                “Yep.”

                “What are you…..” the man stopped speaking and let out a cry of pain as Jonah pressed the tip of his knife into his neck, causing several droplets of blood to trickle down his dirty throat.

                “What do you want to know?” the man asked, his voice trembling and his throat bobbing as he tried to look down at the large blade. Joe shook her head at how easy the man was to break but at the same time was grateful. She wanted to waste as little time as possible.

                “My son.” Joe spoke up. “Is he there?”

                “Yes.”

                “Where?” Jonah ground out.

                “You won’t be able to get in there so why do you care? Your boy is going to die…. Hell he might already be dead.” 

                Joe saw Jonah’s jaw tighten and the blade of his knife went a little deeper causing the man to whimper and try to jerk away. “The cellar! The little bastard is in the cellar!”

                “Watch your mouth…” Bart began but Jonah shut him up with a glance.

                “Where’s the cellar?” Joe asked.

                “Behind the kitchens. There’s an outside entrance along the back wall of the mansion.”

                “How long as he been locked up in the cellar?” Joe couldn’t help but ask. The thought of her son in a cold damp cellar all alone had her heart breaking.

                “Since yesterday afternoon. Scarlett kept him in a room before that… She took real good care of him. Walked with him, ate with him, fancied herself his mother….” Joe let out a strangled sob and nearly went at the man on the ground but Reb grabbed her arm and stopped her.

                “He aint’ the one you want, Joe… Save it fer the bitch that’s holed up in that fancy mansion.”  Joe wanted to fight with Reb but knew he was right.

                “So how’d he end up in the cellar?” Jonah asked, his voice surprisingly calm given the fact that his shoulders were tense and he was still holding his large bowie knife to the prisoner’s throat.

                “I don’t know the details.” The man replied. “Alls I know is the boy was beat up pretty bad when they put him down there….”

                “How many men does she have?”

                “A couple of indoor servants to do the cooking, cleaning and daily rutting. There are twenty guards that patrol…..”

                “We killed one that was coming around the wall about the time we took you.” Jonah informed him and the man snorted.

                “Then I guess there are nineteen.”

                “What kind of operation is she running?” Sheriff Phillips demanded.

                “She hires men to do jobs for her. Robbing stages, trains, banks….. Those men come and go. There are nineteen of us left that are on her permanent payroll. We guard the place and keep her safe. Then there’s Bear. You’ll want to steer clear of him….”

                “Why’s that?”

                “He’s a mean, vicious bastard. Hell he’s the one that beat the shit out of your boy.”

                Joe felt rage boiling in her blood and then Jonah’s eyes looked back and met hers. “No looking over our shoulders?” he asked quietly. Joe glanced at the sheriff but the man simply tipped his head. Joe looked back at her husband.

                “No looking over our shoulders.”

                The man’s eyes widened. “Wait! What…..” Jonah silenced him when he slid the knife across his throat and blood spewed forth, soaking Jonah’s knife and hand.

                Jonah stood then and Bart tossed him his bandana. Jonah cleaned his hand and knife, put his knife away and then held Joe who rushed to his arms.

                “What do you want to do now?” Sheriff Phillips asked them both.

                “We need to get in there. We need to get a lay of the land.” Jonah replied. Joe could feel him trembling. She knew that despite his seemingly cold exterior killing that man had rattled him. Jonah was not and never would be a murderer but there were times when a man had to kill to ensure his family remained safe and Joe respected him for that.

                “But she knows all of us. We can’t just waltz in.” Bart countered. Jonah was quiet for a while and then he nodded.

                “It’s been over five years since she’s seen you sheriff and you’ve always had the mustache… I’d say if you shaved that off and dressed up she wouldn’t know who you are.”

                “But he can’t go in there alone!” Joe argued and Jonah  sighed.

                “I don’t see any other way. She’ll recognize Reb cuz it’s hard to forget a one eyed man and she’ll probably recognize Bart as well since she spent so much time around him. I know for sure she’d recognize me….”

                “Then I’ll go.”  Joe spoke up. Instantly Jonah tensed and yanked her several feet away from everyone else.

                “I don’t think you will! She’d recognize you too.” He ground out angrily.

                “Not if I got all gussied up.” Joe argued, squaring her shoulders. “The sheriff can’t go alone and that’s my son she’s got in there, Jonah. I’m going in.”

                “Joe…”

                “Don’t argue, Jonah, you know this is how it has to be. There have to be a couple people on the inside so that when y’all attack from the outside we can help. I don’t want to let Clayton stay locked up, cold, alone and scared in that cellar any longer than I have to.”

                “I don’t either, Joe, but I don’t want you….” Joe saw the fear and pain in his gray eyes and she laid her hand on his cheek.

                “This is how it has to be, Jonah. We have to do this so we can get back to our little cabin and back to learning what all this family stuff is about.”

                Jonah stared at her for several long moments and then finally nodded and led her back to everyone else.

                “We’ll head back to that town about an hour from here, prepare ourselves and come back in the morning.”

                Joe hated the idea of her son in that cellar for another night but she understood the need to wait. Scarlett would be ready for a nighttime attack. They needed to catch her off guard and come during the day and there was no time today with night already closing in.

                “Well let’s go then. We got a lot to prepare for morning.”

                Without another word everyone mounted up and headed back through the woods toward town, leaving the dead man there to rot for the night.