


Deadly Repartee

by Jo2



Category: Queen of Swords
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2000-12-01
Updated: 2000-12-01
Packaged: 2013-04-30 02:01:41
Rating: K
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/127483/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/14381/Jo2
Summary: A suggestion of why Don Alvarado was killed.





	Deadly Repartee

DEADLY REPARTEE  
by  
Jo  
EnyaJo@aol.com  
  
Beta'd by MnD  
Yuanne@aol.com  
  
Manzana Core - Dr. Helm, the Apple of Our Eye  
http://www.geocities.com/manzanacore  
  
RATED: G  
  
Although Helm is my fav character, he doesn't make an appearance  
in the very first Queen of Swords fic that I post. Go figure. This little  
scene came to me and had to be written so it would go away so I  
could resume concentrating on the good Doctor. Hope you like it.  
  
The Queen of Swords series, Montoya, Don Alvarado and Grisham  
belong to Paramount and Fireworks Productions, Gord, Abramowitz.  
Alas, nothing belongs to me.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"You surprise me, old man," Montoya announced with a tight smile.  
The Don was being testy, although in a polite manner that only  
made Montoya's blood boil. There they were in his own office, after  
having invited the Don to a simple lunch to discuss the little matter  
of his paying the taxes owed on his hacienda, and he gets insulted to  
his face!  
  
"That is the problem with you, Colonel," Don Alvarado matched the  
Spaniard's fake smile, bringing home is point even more. "You have  
no surprises left in you."  
  
Montoya's eyes flared, just for an instant, and the Don witnessed it.  
Don Alvarado had wanted to jar the commander during the visit and  
he had succeeded. He continued in his low, commanding voice, "The  
amount of taxes on my land have always been constant. Suddenly,  
they're 50 porcentaje ademas. You cannot fool me as you have  
fooled the other Dons. You have my answer, Montoya. I refuse to  
pay."  
  
Don Alvarado replaced the wine glass, now empty, alongside the  
plate of fine cheeses and bread that were set out for them that the  
Don hadn't touched. Montoya simmered beneath the cool exterior  
he presented. His mind raced for the reason why the Don would  
refuse such a thing. Montoya said as if he were talking to a child,  
"Then you will lose your land."  
  
"No," Don Alvarado clearly stated so there was no doubt he would be  
misinterpreted. "I said I would not pay *you*. California will get its  
taxes. I wonder if the Governor knows the excess charge you have  
levied on the people. Have you done so in his name... Colonel?"  
  
Montoya grimaced, things would have to turn ugly. Don Alvarado  
ran the most successful hacienda in his district and Montoya had just  
found out for the first time that he was not a pawn that he could  
maneuver on a whim. Then the Don had the gall to stand to call the  
end to the meeting before Colonel Luis Montoya did?!   
  
"Don Alvarado," Montoya said as easily as he could in his state but it  
came off as a plea to the Don's ear. Alvarado stopped before opening  
the door to Montoya's private study and turned back to face him.  
Montoya darkened so the Don would have no doubt that he had  
gone too far, "I am the law here."  
  
"Si," the Don shrugged. "And we have to deal with that. Believe me, it  
is not easy."  
  
"Explain yourself," Montoya crossed the room in a flash.   
  
Don Alvarado knew he had riled a nerve in the touchy Spaniard, and  
decided to feed the flame. After all, he was a reputable man who  
people looked up to in both Spain and in America. Who was that  
little military worm to try to pull wool over his eyes? "Which word did  
you not understand, Colonel? 'No'? Or 'Governor'? Or 'excess  
charges'? I would be pleased to explain exactly what each word  
means to you."  
  
"I could have you put away for speaking to me in such a manner."  
  
"I have no doubt," Alvarado quickly agreed but with a carefree smile.  
"And I'm positive that my friend, Governor Pablo Vicente Sola, would  
be most interested to know why you had me put away, Colonel."  
  
The way the Don kept saying his military started to grate on  
Montoya's nerves as it wasn't used as a designation of respect. No,  
not at all. It was like the Don was belittling him and that could never  
be allowed. Montoya didn't need one spoiled apple in the barrel and  
he wouldn't allow the Don to start talking his friends. To make  
matters worse, the Don continued, "I will notify Pablo so we can  
explain our differences to his face, mano-a-mano. How would that  
suit you?"  
  
Montoya didn't say a word. It was hard to focus as the room started  
spinning and blood rushed to his head. The anger of the Don's  
attitude and stubbornness along with the deep-seated fear that his  
strangle-hold over the county would get back to the Governor made  
him glare at his visitor. It was a facial expression that Montoya knew  
had caused fear in many men.   
  
Since Montoya hadn't replied, Don Alvarado had his answer. "That's  
what I thought, Colonel," he said accenting the contempt in the  
salutation and finally opened the door and left. The door was left ajar  
so Montoya could see that he had no fear of him as he sauntered  
down the hall.  
  
As soon as the Don had to be out of the building, Montoya yelled,  
"Grisham!"  
  
Grisham appeared within seconds. If Montoya was using that tone of  
voice, it couldn't be good for anyone and he'd better see to him as  
soon as possible. Montoya slowly turned to face his underling and  
tightly spouted, "It's a shame really, but Don Alvarado is not going to  
live long enough to reach his hacienda. Do you understand?"  
  
Grisham was surprised, "A Don?" He had been ordered to kill many  
people for the Colonel, but never one with so high of standing on  
two continents.  
  
Montoya sat back behind his desk wanting to be officious, dignified,  
to his Captain as he said, "You heard me. He is an insect. We can not  
allow him to spawn falsehoods."  
  
"I'll take care of it," Grisham announced.  
  
"An accident, Grisham," Montoya commanded. "Don't be sloppy."  
  
Grisham showed a mocking sense of having been offended,  
"Colonel, I'm wounded."  
  
Montoya sat back in his chair mentally reciting to himself the  
condolence letter he would send to the Governor and his daughter,  
Maria Teresa, back in Spain. 'Ah, it was a terrible loss...,' he told  
himself. 'A loss we in Santa Helena will not soon recover from... Don  
Alvarado was a great man... And so on... and so forth...' Montoya spun  
his chair around to gaze down at his roses in the courtyard. They  
seemed to be little more colorful that afternoon. The sun was a little  
more vibrant. The air was a little more fresh and clean. He would get  
the amount he demanded to Alvarado. Since the old man hadn't  
been willing to pay, Montoya would see that his daughter would. If  
not? Well. He would show the young girl that he felt bad, as he took  
over the most fruitful plantation in the area.  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
