[pshrynk]

The taxi pulled up in front of the non-descript cantina. The rear seat occupant stepped out and walked in. He walked up to the bar as if he owned the place.

""What do you want, gringo?" asked the bartender.

"I have an appointment with your boss," came the answer.

"I don't see any appointments on the calendar."

The man in the riding cape turned to look at the calendar on the wall. Whipping his hand into his pocket quick as a snake, he pulled his revolver, cocked, and shot a hole in the dead center of the day's date. Turning like a flash, he struck the bat from the hand of the bartender and said, "I believe there is one, now."

The phone beside the register rang. "Go ahead and pick it up. Slowly."

Eyes crossedat the .38 snub nose that hovered a mere inch from his nose, the bartender picked up the phone, listened, and said, "You're to go right in."

The stranger walked to the back of the cantina and entered the small curtained room. Inside it was dimly lit.

"So, let's start out with introductions. Or rather, introduction. Who the hell are you?" came the voice from the shadows.