Hector Camacho felt healthy. He had gained weight since being in prison. His wound, where Crow had shot him, had healed. He and Garcia now lived in a room down the hall from the prison guards, instead of being locked in a cell. It had taken Hector nearly a year to gain the trust of a few guards and the commandant. It was the promise of gold that had finally won the commandant over. Gold buried in a cave in California.
In a separate building, housing his office and private quarters, the commandant sat at his desk deep in thought. He looked out the barred office window, across the empty yard to the building that housed the prisoners. "Hector Camacho," he thought, "what do I do about you? You have turned my comfortable life upside down with your offer of gold. Now I think I see an opportunit
