It hadn’t taken long for Kate find a safe place to perch for the evening, one that would afford her a fair view of Lincoln’s Main Street, and all that transpired upon it, when sunrise came.

The Torreon, a tower crafted from stone and adobe, built by the Spanish settlers of the valley for protection against the determined attacks of Apache, sat unoccupied, a silent sentinel watching over the town, a testament to battles remembered now by only a few. The sand encrusted door had been somewhat stubborn, but with patience and leverage, Kate had gotten it open. Climbing up the tower in the dark, the outlaw reached the roof, finding that it offered ready concealment for one who remained low and an excellent vantage point to observe most of Lincoln.

Sunrise arrives, turning the deep black of the sky a bruised purple, the horizon slowly shifting to an orange the color of fire. Looking carefully, Kate sees a pair of men meet next door on the porch of Wilson’s Saloon. One, rail thin, with thick black hair, wears a two gun rig, twin Colt Lightnings in the holsters. Pushing his hat up on his brow, he leans against the wall beside the saloon’s entrance, watching the street. His companion, clad in a long, black duster, takes a seat in one of the chairs and begins to methodically load a Bullard Express, a rifle that appears to have been meticulously cared for, by Kate’s estimation.

A few minutes later, a woman, dressed for the range, arrives, a double barreled shotgun over one of her shoulders, a Peacemaker holstered across her waist. She speaks quietly with the slender pistolero for several minutes, her gaze shifting between him and the street. Finally, a fourth member appears, a tall man, over six feet in height, broad shouldered with thick arms. He grins wolfishly as he climbs the steps to the porch, and Kate notices that fresh blood stains the dark gloves that cover his hands. Showing them to the others, he smiles and nods. His companions chuckle, clearly pleased with whatever the display signifies.

For the moment, the rest of the street is quiet, the remainder of Lincoln still struggling to awaken.

I knew it. Kate pondered.  So she had been right, the problem was, what were they doing?

Kate racked her brain.  Segovia had been the only one to see her with Desiree Thornton, and she remembered the proprietor's words.  But how to exploit it all...

That was when Kate got The Idea.  She marked the Torreon mentally, this was a hell of a good spot if things went sideways, which they would.  Perhaps not here, but if it was here this was a good perch.

Moving on her belly so no one would see somebody was up there, she worked her way back down to the street, carefully closed the place back up, dusted herself off, and wandered off to Wilson's saloon, whistling Dixie.

Kate steps out of the Torreon, easing the door closed behind her, circling the tower before stepping out onto the street, a cool breeze stirring the dust along the wide thoroughfare.

Approaching the porch of Wilson’s Saloon, Kate hears the chuckling quickly die out, the eyes of the gathering all falling on her. The woman and the broad shouldered man with the bloodstained gloves shift to face her, but the rifleman does not move from his seat, continuing to load his weapon at the same steady, unperturbed pace.

The slender man with the twin pistols approaches the steps. He grins. ”You’re a little early. Saloon’s not open quite yet.”

"Feller, are you the one I have business with, or are you wasting my time and getting in the way of my dinero?"  Kate responded nonchalantly.

The big man speaks up. ”Jesse, you, want I should take care of this?” he rumbles.

The slender pistolero raises a hand, giving a slight shake of his head. Addressing Kate, he asks, with a ghost of a smile, ”Exactly what sort of payday do you think you’re chasing, chica?””

"Well you see kind sir I'm an entrepreneur in a specialized commodity and its related services."  She casually flung her duster aside, revealing the Schofield with its pearl grips and custom holster.  "I deal in lead friend.  And I offer lead delivery better than any you ever did see."

When Kate pulls her duster back, the woman on the porch drops the shotgun from her shoulder.

”Settle down,” Evans tells her. Returning his attention to Kate, he says, ”I have to say, that’s a mighty impressive rig you have there. And those are some bold claims you’ve made to go along with it. But as I’m sure you understand, talk is a very easy thing to come by.”

“Who exactly do I have the pleasure of addressing here?”

She didn't make an elaborate answer, she just let the hem of her duster fall again.  "The wanted posters call me Kansas Kate."

The man with the rifle snorts. ”And I’m John Wesley Hardin. Bet you’ve heard of me.”

Evans sighs. ”Kate...I think you can see the problem I’m faced with here. If you are who you claim to be, I’m inclined to think that I could find work for a woman of your considerable talents. But I’m afraid I’ve got to have some kind of proof of your identity.”

“Do you have any suggestions?”

"What, you don't have wanted posters here?"  Kate asked incredulously.

Evans grins. "You know, we could mosey over to Sheriff Brady's office, see if he's got a poster pertaining to you hanging up somewhere. Problem is, tintypes don't always give a good likeness and drawings...hell, they're worse."

"I was thinking of something more practical. See, there's a little problem that Frank here..." he nods toward the rifleman, "...was going to take care of. But if you were to handle it for us, well, I'd see to it that you were paid for your trouble, and I'd arrange a meeting with someone who could provide you with continued employment. At a handsome salary. How does that sound?"

Kate leaned in.  "Ah'm listenin'."

”Fella by the name of Tom O’Folliard. Likes to put his nose where it doesn’t belong. Keep watch on people who don’t take kindly to being spied on. Part of a group of gunhands that call themselves the Regulators. Cowboys who worked for a rancher around these parts who had the misfortune of getting himself shot.”

“O’Folliard and his friends are convinced we’re responsible for all kinds of wrongdoing around these parts. He’s working to catch one or more of us in ambush so he and his fellow riders can shoot us down. I’d rather someone stop him dead in his tracks before he gets the chance. He doesn’t know you, so he’ll never see you coming.”

He nods to the west. “Take care of him. And when you do, drop him by the side door to the Sheriff’s Office. There’ll be five hundred dollars in it for you. And the chance for more.”

“He’s got sand colored hair down to his collar. Favors a black hat. Hangs around the Main Street most hours. Spends a lot of time at the Thornton-Curry Saloon.”

"That sounds like a man who has made a mistake.  I take you don't want O'Folliard and his posse to know whose behind this?"  Kate asked.  "It's my workin' presumption, but some folks want it known.  Got their reasons and all."

”For the time being, it’s best left a mystery,” Evans says, ”My only specific request is where the body ends up.”

Kate leaned forward, not articulating the question, merely asking it with her eyes.

”Right in front of the side door of the Sheriff’s office,” Evans says, ”Make it easy on the law to get him over to the undertaker.”

Kate considered this a moment.

"Well that's awful specific.  Course... it is five hunnert.  Not my usual way... but ah can make it happen."

“When you have it done, find a fella named Jim McDaniels here at Wilson’s,” Evans instructs, ”Tell him ‘The spy’s finished’. He’ll make certain you’re paid.”

“Stay around town afterward. It won’t take long for me to catch up to you.”

Kate nodded.  If they were done with her, she was headed back to the Thornton-Curry.

Okay, so Kate's objective is to first make sure she's not tailed.  The second is to make contact with Lee, Cooper or possibly McGraw (we might need his shop).  Might have to pass messages through the bartender.

Evans tips his hat, settling back at his spot, leaning next to the door of the saloon. Neither he, nor any of his companions, take their eyes off of Kate as she departs.

The street remains quiet. Only a handful of people move along it, shopkeepers by Kate’s estimation, setting about opening their places of business. As she starts westward, she notices a female deputy loitering on the steps of the courthouse, and a lone rider, his hat pulled low over his eyes, passing the Thornton-Curry as trots unhurriedly into town. Otherwise, Lincoln’s main avenue is still.

OOC: Kate give me a Notice roll. If you’re planning to try to reach the Thornton-Curry unseen, give me a Stealth roll as well.

All right let's see how she does.

19:09, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 2,3 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3.  Notice.

19:09, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 1,6 using d4-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+2)8.  Stealth.

Huh.  Some mixed results there.

The shadows remain long enough that Kate finds plenty of spots to slip into to conceal her true destination, giving the casual observer the impression that she walked between the Torreon and the Tunstall Store and headed north. Taking her time and watching her surroundings, the outlaw is able to reach the back door of the Thornton-Curry Saloon without incident and, to the best of her knowledge, without being seen by prying eyes.

Stepping through the door, she finds Desiree Thornton seated at a table, mixing whiskey and water into clean glass bottles. The bar owner looks up with an arched eyebrow. ”Did you forget which way you usually come in, or should I be worried about who might come looking for you?”

Kate tapped the bar.  It would look weird to go into a saloon and not drink.

"Both."  She locked eyes with the proprietress, hoping she'd get the other woman's focused attention.

Thornton nods, indicating that Kate should follow her into the main barroom. When the pair enter it, Kate sees that all of the tables are unoccupied, the first customers of the day having not yet arrived.

Without a word, Thornton fills a shot glass with whiskey from a new bottle and slides it across to Kate. ”So, tell me what has you needing a drink just little bit after sunrise.”

Kate leaned in real close and murmured in a low voice, and grabbed the proprietor's collar and pulled her in close like she was threatening her.

"Ah will beg yer pardon ma'am, but ah gotta make this here look good.  Ya know how ya sent me over to yer competition if'n I wanted to make a quick buck?  I done did it.  Man named Jesse offered me five hundred dollars to kill a feller named Tom O'Folliard.  Ah think I can get in their gang, but Imma need a bamboozle.  Ah need word to get back to tha Ranger, or anyone who can run in between.  Cooper would work.  Ya follow me?"

Kate shook her like she was shaking the proprietor down.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:24, Sun 29 July 2018.

Thornton allows herself to be shaken, her expression one of wide eyed terror. ”Alright! Alright!” she says loudly, ”Calm down! I’ll tell you what you want to know!”

Shifting her voice to a whisper, she says. ”I’ll get word to the Ranger or the first of his other friends I can find. I’ll ask Renata Montaño for help.”

“If it’s Jesse Evans you talked to, he isn’t a man that’s easily fooled. And the one he’s after, O’Folliard, he’s one of the Regulators...John Tunstall’s old hands. I’d tread very carefully if I were you.”

"Well I've gotta make it look good.  That means staking out O'Folliard.  For all intents and purposes, it's going to be exactly what I would do if I planned to kill him.  Listen, I need someone to clue O'Folliard in, and I need someone to pull a few bullets and get me some wax cartridges."  Kate passed a handful of .44-40 discretely.  "You follow me?"

Thornton scoops up the bullets discretely. ”I’ll get them to the Tunstall store. I imagine I can have some wax bullets here for you by noon,” she whispers.

”But listen. I will try to talk to O’Folliard. Once I have, I’ll hang a blue dishrag out on one of the posts outside. But...O’Folliard and the Regulators...they’re planning something. Something big. They won’t even tell me what it is. It’s why Tom isn’t here yet this morning. Whatever it is, it’s important to them. And I doubt they’ll look kindly on anything resembling interference.”

Kate smiled.  "Outlaws ain't exactly known fer makin' sense.  But I'm awful sorry about this.  Put it on my tab."

"Shut up you dumb bitch!"  Kate backhanded the hapless bartender, scooped up the whiskey bottle, and stormed out.

Emerging onto the street, Kate sees that it remains largely quiet, the business men and women of Lincoln slowly readying themselves for the day’s commerce. For an instant, the outlaw thinks she perceives movement across the street, in the vicinity of L.G. Murphy’s store, but it is fleeting.

Glancing to her left, she spies a young man in a duster step out of the front door of the Tunstall Store. He begins walking in the direction of the Thornton-Curry Saloon, sand colored hair visible under the hat he wears. The sight stirs Kate’s memory of her first visit with Desiree Thornton and one of the patrons that she saw seated close to the bar’s front entrance. She is almost positive that the approaching figure is Tom O’Folliard.

OOC: Kate, kindly provide me with a Notice roll.

20:35, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 2,3 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3.  Notice.

I'm sure this will end well for Kate lol

Directly behind her, Kate hears the hard, metallic click of a rifle’s lever action. ”Mornin’,” a male voice says, ”Not certain I’ve seen you around here before. But, something you need to understand, me and some friends of mine...we think real highly of Miss Thornton. Real highly.”

“So why don’t you do me a favor? Take that smoke wagon out of your holster with two fingers and set it down on the porch. Nice and slow. I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you don’t.”

Well this was interesting.  But also an opportunity.  Her mind made the play...  no, no, not like that,  that wasn't going to get her what she wanted.

Without a word, Kate delicately reached out, extended two fingers, and relieved herself of the Schofield as directed.

Ahead of Kate, the man she recognized as O’Folliard pauses, apparently seeing what is transpiring on the porch of the saloon. Shifting his duster to one side, he places a hand on the Colt holstered at his side and moves toward the Thornton-Curry at a quick pace.

Behind her, Kate hears the sound of her firearm being slid across the planks of the porch. ”Alright, we’re gonna take a walk back inside so you can give Miss Thornton your most sincere apology,” the stranger informs her, ”But before we do that, I’m going to give you a chance to lay down any other weapons you might have on hand. Because...you really don’t strike me as the sort that would rely on just a lone pistol.”

Kate smiled a twisted, evil smile.

Is he alone?  That affects what Kate will do/say next.

OOC: Kate hears a single voice behind her and has heard only the action of one weapon. O’Folliard is roughly three doors away at this point, approximately at the level of Dr. Wood’s office and residence.

If there is anyone else besides those two watching the scene, Kate hasn’t seen them.

All right that's what I wanted to know.  Also this is why Notice >>> All other skills, lol.

Kate was playing fast and loose here, but she wouldn't really have a choice regardless.  She dropped the Winchester and the Toothpick.

O’Folliard reaches the porch of the Thornton-Curry, his brow furrowed into a scowl. ”This one of Murphy’s hired guns?” he asks.

”Not sure. She roughed up Miss Thornton, though. I figured that, regardless of the other business we’ve got to attend to today, we could make time to set that right. Collect her weapons.”

O’Folliard crouches, picking up Kate’s Schofield, Winchester, and Toothpick, never taking his eyes off of the outlaw as he does so.

As the trio step inside the cool interior of the saloon, Kate sees Desiree Thornton stepping around the bar to meet them. ”Doc, wait,” she says, a mark visible near her left eye, ”You need to settle down. This isn’t what you think it is.”

The man that has been leading Kate shifts into view. A duster, the color of tooled leather, is draped over his slender frame. His face is drawn, almost gaunt, a stubble beard marking his jaw, his hair dark and straight. He regards the outlaw with gray eyes, the Winchester in his gloved hands still trained on her.

”Don’t you worry, Miss Thornton. I’m plenty calm,” he says, ”But I’m inclined to think this lady’s more than able to speak for herself.”

Kate smiled.  "You fellers just did me a favor.  But if I go on, my mouth is gonna write a warrant my ass can't cash.  You better tell 'em, they wouldn't believe me if Abraham Lincoln, Jeff Davis and The Man Jesus vouched fer it."  Kate directed the last to Thornton.

”This woman, her name is Kate. She’s one of the ones who helped rescue the children last night,” Thornton says, ”Her attacking me. It was a ruse. I promise you. She was trying to make it look like she was forcing me to give her information.”

“She’s trying to get in with Evans and his gang. Figure out a way to take them down. One of her friends, he’s a Texas Ranger. Name of Lee.”

Her gaze shifts to O’Folliard. ”They offered her five hundred dollars to kill Tom.”

O’Folliard’s lips press into a thin line.

Doc makes no move to lower his rifle. Addressing Kate, he says, ”Is that a fact, now? Tell me, what reason did ol’ Jesse give you for wanting Tom here dead? And how were you supposed to go about collecting your money, once the deed was done?”

Kate didn't quite answer all of the question, but it was deliberate.  "Well he done seem convinced this feller here were tryin' to set his gang up in an ambush.  I were s'posed ta leave his body on the side door of the Sheriff's office... was gonna see if'n ah could be seen takin' him down with some wax bullets... they don't actually launch an' it ain't good for th' gun but it ain't like we got a Smith and Robards around here.  Course I hadn't figured that corpse part out yet, but ah make this up as I go along."

O’Folliard shifts his feet, fishing a plug of chewing tobacco from the pocket of his duster. ”Kinda sounds like they’re wantin’ to make Sheriff Brady look good. Like he’s runnin’ us Regulators out of Lincoln.”

“I was going to see if Cal Thomas over at the Tunstall Store could fix me up with the wax bullets she needed,” Thornton puts in.

Doc is quiet a moment, considering what he has been told. ”So a few people see you shoot Tom here with wax bullets. You dump him over by Brady’s office and pretty soon everybody in Lincoln’s talking about what’s happened,” he says, ”But I’m still curious. Where were you going to go to collect your blood money? Who was supposed to pay you for your trouble?”

"Now see that's the part of this where I'm a bit sketchy myself.  Now they done told me to go to a feller called Jim McDaniel over there at Wilson's.  Ah think that Jesse Evans meant to settle with me after McDaniel passed word but they weren't too particular on th' matter.  Ain't sure if that's legit, or to set me up fer an ambush."  She shrugged.

"Ah mean that's what ah'd do, send th' known outlaw to do mah dirty work an' then serve her a lead salad.  Or it could be, if'n ah make it look good, they legit need the help and plan ta kill me later."

”McDaniels,” Doc repeats quietly. He nods and shoulders his Winchester. ”I can’t fully say what sort of game Evans and his crew are playing at, but it’s something tricky. And even if you were trying to play above board with them, you’re right to assume they’re plannin’ to double cross you.”

O’Folliard frowns. ”That business with puttin’ me over by the Sheriff’s Office. Doc, you know what Billy’s plannin’ with regard to Brady. You don’t think that means that...”

Doc holds up his hand, cutting O’Folliard off. Returning his attention to Kate, he asks, ”Look, I think you’re tellin’ us the truth. And obviously, Miss Thornton here is willing to vouch for you. You havin’ a hand in rescuing the kids is a pretty big thing.”

“But I have to ask. What’s your stake in this? You trying to get inside Evans’ gang. Feed information to his enemies. That’s one hell of a risk to take. Why attempt such a thing in the first place?”

Kate smirked and slowly walked over to the bar and took the first thing she could find.  She didn't care if it was beer, whiskey or rotgut.

"Well now that's a mighty fine question ya pose there.  But I'll skip the sermon an' try ta give ya a short answer."  She poured, and then continued.

"Ah came to this town to kill a man you see.  Oh don't worry none,  he ain't no good man, no sir.  Not good at all.  You see fellers..."  She took a swallow and then pointed at herself with her glass holding hand. "Killin' an' stealin' an robbin' an bushwhackin' an' sech is my sorry lot in life, so as a master of my craft, I cater to the most deserving.  Think about it, if'n I win, there's less people like me, and if'n I lose, there's less people like me.  World's better off either way."

Kate twirled the bottle as she took a swallow.

"Ennyways, point is I follow my gut, my gut tells me this man ah'm here to kill is the biggest piece of shit around here, and them fellers what hired me ta kill ya probably knows him because the little shits cling to tha big 'uns.  Besides, ah ain't been here a day an' ah seen this town can't stand like this.  Ya'll need me.  Sure ya'll could let th' Ranger lock 'em all warm an' cozy in a little box where they'd eat better than most hard working free people an' get a li'l kiss from the warden every night.  But that ain't what ya need.  Ya'll need them dead wit' no blood on yer own hands."

She took another shot and put the glassware down.

"Question is boys, what's yer play?  They knows ah'm in here with ya, so if'n this is gonna happen, now's the time ain't it?"

21:47, Today: Josiah Scurlock rolled 8,1 using 1d10,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 8,1.  Spirit.

21:49, Today: Josiah Scurlock rolled 5 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5.  Duration.

Doc considers Kate’s words for a long moment in silence. Then, withouta word, he steps over to O’Folliard and reaches out, touching the younger man’s temple. O’Folliard collapses to the floor in a heap.

”That’ll keep him lookin’ dead for a few hours. I figure you and I can fire a few shots in a moment, I can dash out clutchin’ an arm, Miz Thornton can let loose a scream. We make it look good. Then you can pitch Tom over by Brady’s.”

“But how do we get him back? What happens when he wakes back up?”

"We improvise friend.  Wait an hour, send someone or come yerself under a white flag, ask for th' decency ta put 'em in a casket.  Take him in a house, pry th' coffin open, let 'em out, fill th' coffin with somethin' weighs bout like he does.  I think they wants every'un to know he got kilt, so if'n ya can get lots of people ta come with ya all bawlin' an' fussin' I think they'd let it go.  He'll have to lay low a while.

"In meantime I play my hand.  You fellers gotta figger out what the hell to do with this, ah ain't smart enough to come up with all the plans.  This okie-doke won't last long if'n it works at all, but I'll do the best I can to see and hear an' mebbe calm their tits."

She looked at Thornton.

"Th' watch word is, 'That there is the ugliest prairie dog I ever did see'.  I hear that, I know th' jig is up an' I start shootin'."

Thornton nods, smiling despite the tense situation. ”Not something I’ll quickly forget,” she says.

Doc moves to the left of the winged front doors, his rifle trained toward the left of the barroom, clear of Kate, Thornton, and the prone O’Folliard. Looking to the outlaw, he says, ”You first.”

OOC: In case the question arises, I don’t need a Shooting roll from Kate for this. Firing a couple of shots well clear of anyone else is child’s play for a skilled gunfighter like her. I mainly need to know what the rest of Lincoln’s Main Street is going to hear.

Kate took a moment to tie her trail kerchief around her face, outlaw style, and lift the unconscious man carefully, fireman style.

It was go time.

She picked the least offensive direction, probably the wooden floor (sorry Ms. Thornton) where it wouldn't ricochet and fired twice, and then she kicked the door open and threw a chair out into the street.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee haw!"

The masked outlaw came out with Tom O'Folliard on her back, running like hell for the Sheriff's office.

As if on cue (because it was on cue) she wanted for the report from her conspirator, turning to fire back one shot, but through the wrong window, before resuming her journey.  She dumped the man rather gracelessly, but damn he was heavy after being carried that far.

She paused and fired one more time before running like hell for the brush.

All this assuming Kate doesn't get shot lol.