Jed stepped up to the table, set his hat down and studied the impromptu map, "I assume that only means that they've got more experience, more weaponry and more men than your typical gang. Lovely. If anyone has any ideas, I'm all ears."

"Last time, they owed a...friend of mine a debt," the Marshal said, fingering the map. "Of course, having to shoot their captain didn't help much. Reasoning with them won't do much good, especially if you're friend could not manage to persuade them."

She studied the map for a few minutes, then smiled slightly.

"I think I might have an idea...."

Abigail sighed, wishing that this Marshal would spit it out already. "Well don't be shy, because any plan is better than just going in there guns blazing. That's one surefire way of getting a lot of people killed."

"This plan is going to require that I know the name of your employer," the Marshal said, not looking up.

"He'll probably kill me for this, but if you insist his name is Winchester, Daniel Winchester. Does it ring any bells?"

"Not particularly, but if he makes it a habit of keeping his name as close as you've made it sound, I'd be willing to bet that's not even his real name--just his favorite," the Marshal replied. "You said he's good at everything, but he has to specialize. I need to know everything about how he fights."

"First of all, he's physically massive so he plays that to his advantage. Really just excellent at hand-to-hand, well, hand to metal hand anyways. Not a bad shot, but that isn't exactly his specialty."

"What do you mean, metal hand?" the Marshal asked, glancing up at Abby.

"Does it shoot lightnin' bolts? Poison tree frog darts? Knife blades hidden under the finger nails? Or is it one of those boring metal hands that don't do anythin' special?" Caldwell interjected.

"Well, it does metal hand stuff. For starters. Usually he covers it with a glove, but if he really wants to scare the bejeepers out of someone, it's an effective tactic."

"So he quite literally lost his hand and had it replaced," the Marshal mused. "And we know that they hate me, because I shot their boss, but more importantly...."

She glanced at Caldwell and then looked over at Jed, a slight smile dancing on her lips.

"...they hate him. They hate him more than they hate me. It might be time for Caldwell to get his chance to run."

"I excel at runnin'. It's one of my very best talents," Caldwell said. "Give me a good horse and I could outrun any man out there."

"I was more thinking of setting you a-foot."

Caldwell frowned, "Marshal, if you want me dead, why don't you just shoot me?"

"You ever gone fishing?" the Marshal asked, looking at Caldwell, then at Abby and Jed.