The Customs Agent

A Revelation

"Harlan, think a minute. How would Gerrard or anyone else know to send someone after the girls here? Stark and his men never came back. There's Grainger but he went straight into jail for murder, leastwise that was the charge."

"So what are you sayin'?"

"The only people who knew where we came was us . . . and the group we sent our report to."

"Lantern? Him and the others?"

"Just sayin', Harlan. Seems mighty strange to me. We made our report by telegraph before we left San Francisco. Haven't heard back from the last one from here either."

"And nobody else knew . . ." Harlan ground his teeth until they hurt.

He began gathering his things from around the room and tossed them on the bed, his face was taut with controlled rage.

"We were used, Link. We went down there and took out the competition for those bastards."

"We don't really know−"

"Who else could it be? You said yourself nobody else knew about the girls."

"Maybe the Tong−" Harlan's expression froze the words in his mouth.

"It wasn't no Tong. It wasn't Gerrard. It was that secret committee . . ."

"Maybe−"

"Maybe nuthin', Link. Nobody else knew we brought those girls here. Period."

Link rubbed his head and sat back on the window sill, "So what do you want to do?"

"A line's been crossed, those girls are completely innocent in all this and look where I've placed them . . . we got gunfighters after them now."

Link anxiously watched his friend unpacking a bag onto the bed. A gun and holster he'd never seen him wear, a short-barreled shotgun and a set of six knifes like the one in the spring harness up his sleeve. He closed the bag and shoved it under the bed then strapped on the holster.

"Do you even know how to use that? Think about this, Harlan, we've got Gerrard dead to rights for trafficking those immigrants. You can't make this personal." Harlan drew the pistol and performed a few impressive maneuvers before expertly slipping back in its leather nest.

"That's exactly what it is, Link . . . personal."

"Well I take back the bit about using that gun!" Link studied his friend. How well did he really know Harlan Trench. It was only through their work as customs agents; he really knew nothing of Harlan's private life other than the business with his own brother, and they joined customs right after that. He watched the knives slide into a back mounted belt that fastened over the shoulder.

"You could lose your position with customs, Harlan - even go to jail."

"You gonna report me?"

"Don't be silly, of course not but it will come to light somehow; you can't- he has a lot of men."

Harlan slipped a loose jacket on and picked up his hat. "I ain't interested in his men, just him."

"That's just foolish thinkin'. You know they'll do what he tells them."

"That'll be their bad luck. Look, Link I'm doin' this so save the lectures."

Link pulled his hat on and headed out the door.

"Where you think you're goin'?"

"Well, you aren't getting all the glory for Gerrard's arrest. I'm going with you."