Submission Synopsis

Fort Mackenzie
by Sean Warner
a.k.a. Soren Nielsen

Book Opening

Length:
68,400 Words

Genre:
Action

Adventure

Romance

Author Soren Nielsen
writing as Sean Warner

Other Books in Series:
N/A

Sentence:
The 18 men enjoying the fantasy-camp experience of an old Western fort encounter cavalry history, romance, and the skills of a deadly savage bent on revenge.

Blurb/Logline:
Fort Mackenzie is a history buff’s dream, a new theme camp where adults indulge their childhood game of Cowboys and Indians.  When 18 men form a new cavalry troop on Christina Blocker’s ranch in West Texas and begin their training under Sgt. McTodd, they are destined to get more excitement than they bargained for.

A newspaper article about the camp leads a savage man bent on revenge to stalk the group.  As Christina’s heart is stirred by the affections of trooper Dan Cosentino, he leaves on a patrol that turns deadly before the cavalry can come to the rescue.

Synopsis:

Saturday
The parade grounds of Fort Mackenzie shimmer from the sunlight reflected as heat by the white caliche dust, but it is the best vantage point for Christina Blocker. She interrupts her chores several times in the morning, leaving the cool of the building to squint at the horizon for signs of Sgt. McTodd and his patrol.

*   *   *

McTodd reins in his horse at the crest of a bluff. Ahead, the narrow North Concho River snakes across the West Texas plain, its path well defined by a green escort of pecans and junipers. He feels tired, a condition he attributes to 50 years of bachelorhood and 33 years of soldiering. Behind him, two riders permit their horses freedom of route as they gab.

"Sarge," Gober calls out. "Tell this recruit, will you?"

"Tell him what?" McTodd says, irritated.

"Tell him why the fort is named after Mackenzie and not after that good-for-nothin' Custer."

Later, after supper, they lean against their saddles and bedrolls around the campfire, McTodd puffing on a curved briar pipe.  Gober moves a cud of chewing tobacco around his cheek, and Browning pokes at the embers with a dry twig. "He was the best there was," McTodd says quietly.

"Who's that, Sarge?" Gober asks.

"Mackenzie."

"That's what I say, too, but Brownie thinks Custer was the best Indian fighter. Don't you, Brownie?"

The teenager nods. "I haven't even heard of Mackenzie."

McTodd shifts the pipe from center to corner of his mouth and speaks around the stem. "Trooper, have you heard of John Wayne?"

"Sure, Sarge. Who hasn't?"

McTodd explains Mackenzie's historical contributions through the Duke's movies, some of which are based on Mackenzie's exploits.

He shakes his head as he murmurs, "American History. By John Wayne."

*   *   *

Sunday
He needs the classified ad section from the newspaper, but not as much as he needs a cold beer. In the bar, he opens a paper. He looks for victims among the ads while gulping down the ice cold beer. For Sale. Personals. Death Notices. Funerals. Those who might have a piece of jewelry to sell and would not object to meeting him in a place from which he could snatch and escape. Or, those who might be recent widows, vulnerable to the terror of being alone. Now, as in the past, death is his partner.

When the bartender lifts an empty bottle off the Travel section, the man in the booth sees a familiar face. It is McTodd in that ring of dew.  He wears a blue uniform and straddles a horse.  With an old rage beginning to roil in his gut, he scans the page, not understanding the headline: "Living in the Past Now Part of the Good Life." A blurb below that reads, "Fort Mackenzie Ambushes the Imagination." He crumples the newspaper. "Where are you, you son of a bitch?"

*   *   *

Christina opens her rolltop desk, revealing the silver screen of a personal computer and a compact printer. It is the only concession she has made to modern convenience in her office at Fort Mackenzie's headquarters.

Fort Mackenzie. A faithful recreation of an Indian Wars era outpost. On one long side of the rectangular parade ground are two enlisted men's barracks buildings, the corrals and the covered stable. On the other side, two officers quarters. At the north end of the parade ground, a headquarters building, a quartermaster's storehouse, and a small schoolhouse that could also serve as a chapel. Behind each barracks, connected by covered breezeways and plank walkways, are mess halls. The latrines are located about 20 yards outside the buffalo wall. Between the sinks and the mess halls are the showers fed by a wooden water tower. Each building is constructed of material similar to that originally used –  limestone, cedar shingles, white-washed porch posts, plank verandas, lead glass windowpanes, fieldstone chimneys.

It is new and solid, a sun-lit illusion of antiquity. It is her dream and her business, a pastime and an obsession. It is, as one writer dubbed it, a "cavalry camp for grownups who still liked to play cowboys and Indians."

It's also salvation. Her marriage to Barry Boston, a Dallas wastrel, washed out. Christina became aroused emotionally by Ranald Slidell Mackenzie's melodramatic life, by her discovery of his cavalry heroics ignored by most historians and by the realization that some of that history had happened in places she had been, where she had ridden. On her land.
The ranch has considerable income from its cattle operation and from numerous oil and gas leases and real estate investments. She is capable of doing whatever she wants.

 *   *   *

Joe Reynolds counts 14 pairs of white socks and packs them in a garment bag, expecting a confrontation with his wife, Denise. "You know, it's not even the money," Denise begins when she pushes the door open, her voice intense but modulated to avoid waking their baby. "The time. That's what bothers me. So, what does this Fort Mackenzie have to do with business?"

Joe, a college instructor, picks up a brochure from the top of his bureau. Its cover is a photograph of a cavalry charge: blue-clad riders with sabers raised, hooves stirring dust, the rush of air curling the brims of campaign hats and holding up the company standard. In gold block lettering the brochure is titled: "Fort Mackenzie: Experience the adventure."

Joe explains: "It's important to me. I want to write. I want to write something good about what I love."

*   *   *

 Dan Cosentino calls his ex-wife to arrange a few minutes with his son. In the driveway of a house on which he still is making mortgage payments but in which he is no longer welcomed, he explains the trip to Mike.

"That's really rad, Dad," the 9-year-old towhead exclaims when Dan gets to the part about going out on cavalry patrol.

Before Mike was old enough to remember, Dan indulged himself in celebrity-laden camps for frustrated athletes. The IBM salesman is not sure why he seeks that type of thrill.
"What are you looking for?" his wife asked once.

"I don't know," he'd answered, "but I hope it's obvious when I find it."

Fort Mackenzie is the next step. He has no clue as to why its brochure was mailed to him. Perhaps, Dan muses, there is a mailing list somewhere labeled UNIQUE EXPERIENCE SEEKERS.  

*   *   *

A 2-week-old kitten squirms and mews inside his shirt. It had been easy – FREE: 5 calico kittens. 324 Locust.

He'd smiled and introduced himself as Mr. Skinner and said that he'd just lost his own cat. The man feels a little prick of pain as the kitten moves, stretching its claws against his undershirt. He slaps it. "First you; then McTodd."

*   *   *

It is early evening before McTodd leads his patrol through the gap in the buffalo wall to the fort's parade ground.

In the mess hall, over son-of-a-gun stew prepared by Sammy, a former ranch cook, McTodd briefs Christina on the patrol and, after they had all sated themselves with deep dishes of juicy peach cobbler, the sergeant and Christina map out the new patrol route under the yellow light of a petroleum lamp.

The sky is layered with purple and orange when they finish and stand on the headquarter building's porch. Christina sighs and leans against a post. "Have a pipe," she invites, wanting both the company and the aromatic smoke that is a profound reminder of her father.

Then they fall silent, as people who understand each other can. While the twilight thickens around them, Christina thinks of another campfire, the one at San Angelo’s Fort Concho that ignited the Fort Mackenzie concept. It was McTodd who encouraged her to attend a special encampment, when a number of other memorial units bivouacked on the fort's grounds for a weekend, swapping tales and experiences, riding out on overnight patrol, drilling, cooking over open campfires, showing off their horses, their knowledge and their authentic equipment. She hunkered down around a breakfast campfire where a dozen Fort Huachuca soldiers were eating pan biscuits dripping with melted butter and embellishing their experiences of a patrol ride and campout. "About the only thing missing was a fight with the savages."

That could be arranged, Christina thought. Her mind raced with evolutionary ideas. An Indian fight could be arranged. Not a real fight, of course, but something similar. A surprise. An ambush. Enough realism to provide a jolt of adrenalin. A thrill. For whom?
For people willing to pay for that thrill.

*   *   *

Skinner hones his skills by cutting open the drugged kitten, exposing pulsating blue veins under a white membrane. "I'm getting under your skin," he says to the newspaper photo of McTodd.

Monday
"Gentlemen, your attention."

McTodd's first words to the 18 men who had been selected from their applications as troopers for the next patrol is not a plea. The phrase is a command. "Welcome, gentlemen. I am Sgt. McTodd. I expect you to address me as 'Sergeant.' That is rule No. 1."

McTodd makes a facial contortion that Dan recognizes as the reluctant smile of a veteran drill instructor. "We have only two rules here. Just to keep it simple. You will now hear rule No. 2."

McTodd pauses. "Rule No. 2 is that you will obey all commands given by your sergeant. There's a good reason for that. You will obey, because if you fail to do so, promptly and correctly, you may put yourself and the rest of the troop in mortal danger. Hear me clearly: mortal danger."

*   *   *

Christina sits down at her father's wide walnut desk and picks up the telephone. Leaning back in the high-backed, leather chair, she punches the buttons. "Gerardo," she says when the ring is answered, "this is Christina. We have a new patrol route."

Of all the searching Christina undertook for authenticity at Fort Mackenzie, finding an Indian war party had been the most difficult. Where do you find Comanches or Kiowas in Texas? Nowhere. Then she was introduced to Gerardo Parana, a dark and intense man of Indian and Spanish descent who was involved in setting up a new department of ethnic studies at Angelo State. It didn't take Christina and Gerardo long to discover common interests.

*   *   *

Skinner is the last on the bus to know that it had just crossed the Red River into Texas. Using his large orange gym bag as a pillow, he's sprawled across the wide seat in the back of the Trailways bus.

"Welcome to Texas," intoned a passenger up front, reading a roadside sign. Skinner pulls the newspaper back to a reading position. Mumbling the words, he reads: "In order to effect surprise, the troop's patrol route is selected by McTodd in advance and known only to him, Ms. Blocker and the leader of the Comanche war party, Gerardo Parana." For many miles, he studies the features of the slender Comanche on the left of the warrior photo.

*   *   *

Gerardo's body is a piece of fine work: slim, because he is considerate of what he ingests; muscular, because of a regimen of exercise that approaches religious fervor; and, graceful, because of a lifetime spent on horseback and in athletics.  After he steps out of the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist and poses, legs spread apart, in front of the mirror. His body passes inspection. Striding past his rumpled bed, he pats a mound under the blankets and smiles when it emits a moan of protest.A my Martin always naps after they make love; Gerardo always showers.

He studies the patrol route on a map spread across the kitchenette table. Finding ambush possibilities to be checked out, he returns to the bedroom. He makes love again to the woman he has given the Kickapoo name, "Woman Who Rides Moaning."

*   *   *

B Troop, of Company M, 4th U.S. Memorial Cavalry, is enrolled at a brief ceremony on the parade ground. Thus, Joe and Dan and 16 others begin their experience as cavalry soldiers. The other troopers' names reflect most of America's ethnic groups: Barrone, Chu, Cromwell, Fox, Folsom, Goldberg, Gomez, Harris, Joiner, Newton, Parker, Plocinski, Torres.

During the afternoon's drills, Christina's appearance on the headquarter building's stoop distracts Dan. When Gober closes his instructions by announcing that the troop will host a dance on Saturday night, Dan's imagination stirs.

*   *   *

In the barracks, after dinner, Dan and Joe talk about their families. Their friendship begins. 

Tuesday
The screeching of a scissor-tailed flycatcher wakes Gerardo and Amy. Rays of sunlight pierce the mist hanging in the green mesquite canopy of their camp on the river bank. Gerardo stretches his arms and collects Amy, pulling her close under the blanket they'd shared in lovemaking and in sleep. "When it's like this, so beautiful and so simple,"

Gerardo whispers, "I can imagine how my ancestors felt about their life, and why they didn't want to give up the land to people who boxed themselves in."

He loves her. But he is reluctant to propose. He is Indian-Mexican. She is old-line Texas ranch stock. If he asks, no doubt she would be choosing between her family, her inheritance, and him.

He loves her too much to put her in that position.

*   *   *

Skinner begins his search for Parana at the county library.

*   *   *

In the mess hall, the troopers share their reasons for coming to camp. The roles of Blacks and Chinese in the settling of the West are discussed.

"This week I am Pedro Armendariz," Miguel Gomez says. "Do you know who I'm talking about? An actor, who played in a number of John Ford westerns. He was a sergeant in 'Fort Apache' — the one who took Wayne into Mexico to pow-wow with Cochise."

*   *   *

When Gerardo and Amy return to the Rocking B's stable yard, Christina meets them.
Amy raises her arm for a handshake. "I'm pleased to meet you, Ma'am." Christina practices her best Texas charm, feeling upset by some unknown aspect of this situation. "Likewise, Amy," she says softly. ater, she recognizes the feelings: She envied. She begrudged. She resented. She coveted. She was jealous, but not of Amy. What she regrets is not their loving, but the absence of love — and loving — in her own life.

*   *   *

Dan is the first trooper in the mess hall for dinner. He encounters “Miz Blocker” as Gober had called her. Now, here she stood, a foot away from him, almost as tall as he, an amused smile crinkling some laugh lines around her gray-blue eyes, her auburn hair pulled back in a bun, befitting her costume of calico print dress with a square neckline and straw sun-bonnet.

The woman is beautiful, Dan realizes. Watching her chat with the other troopers, Dan admires her. He waits for Christina in the breezeway. "I was wondering, Miss Blocker," he asks, hesitating a heartbeat after pronouncing her name, "if ... you were planning to attend the dance Saturday night ... if you, perhaps ...."

She smiles. "I'm not sure, Mr. Cosentino. Sometimes I do; sometimes other commitments dictate my absence. Why do you ask?"

"I was curious if I'd see you again."

Her smile fades, replaced by a solemn expression. "As I said, Mr. Cosentino, I'm not sure. But one thing is for certain ...." Christina swivels and walks briskly away. "...No one has asked me to go the dance ... as yet."

Wednesday  
Skinner assembles an arsenal – throwing knives, steel cross bow, racks of arrows – and begins to stalk Parana.

Parana is easy to find. He and Amy are targeted to lead Skinner to the fort and to McTodd.

*   *   *

Christina, curious about the man she'd encountered at the mess hall, takes Dan's registration and application with her as she prepares for her nightly swim. Stepping out of the pool, nude, she is startled by the appearance of a shadow on her patio.

"Please, Miss Blocker. Don't be afraid." The voice trembles a bit. Stressed. It is familiar. "It's Dan. Dan Cosentino. I was ..." Christina's panic wanes; this man is not to be feared. "What are you doing here? At this hour?"

"I knocked on the front door, but no one answered. I called out. Then I heard a noise back here." Dan, searching for words, takes a small step forward. Christina, using her robe as a shield, backs up one step.

"Christina, listen to me. It's very important that you understand," Dan says, his voice level and insistent. "I came here, to the fort, to live a fantasy, a day dream. And it's been good. But it's not permanent, as other things can be.

"Then I met you, and tonight ... tonight could be the best dream of my life. I feel as if I'm watching a movie; it's too beautiful to be real. You're beautiful, and I can't express it more eloquently than that. But I know this is not right, that I have intruded where not invited, that you feel anger, but you must know that I mean you no harm. On the contrary, I can only hope ..."

Christina's anger subsides. "What can you hope?"

"I can only hope," continues Dan after inhaling a deep breath, "that you will forgive me for being absorbed by your beauty and being silenced by its unforeseen revelation."

Dan apologizes and begins to leave. Christina stops him by inquiring about his purpose. After he is out of sight, she yells out an acceptance to his dance invitation: "Yes, I'd be delighted."

From far away, up the road, she hears Dan's reaction. "Whooppee."

Thursday
McTodd, carrying a mail sack with troopers' letters, raps on Christina's office door. After some routine business is taken care of, he expresses concern over some scuttlebutt he'd heard about a trooper leaving the grounds the night before.

Christina confirms the visit, explaining Dan's purpose. "No harm done," she says.

She finds and opens a letter addressed to her, from Dan, confirming their date, expressing admiration, causing her to feel again the throbbing of emotion.

Friday
The troopers demonstrate the bonding an isolated group with a purpose usually experiences. Joe observes the pride, the elation of having done a task well, the pleasure of sharing new experiences, the intensity of their search for contact with the past.
He and 17 other men had become a cavalry troop.

*   *   *

On a practice patrol ride, Dan rejoices in the sounds of the moment. Although he is admonished by McTodd for leaving the fort, the ride and the prospect of being with Christina Saturday night counteract the sergeant's disapproval.

*   *   *

Skinner breaks into Gerardo's apartment. He finds the map of the patrol route.

*   *   *

Gerardo briefs his war party: seven young men and Amy. We are introduced to Joe Greco, Dick Hoover, Bob Campbell, Al Klump, Hank Diller, Ray Stanton and Dave Burch, their appetites and their various talents.

Saturday
In a morning visit to her ranch office, McTodd stuns Christina. "This will be my last patrol."
Saying he needs to quit the job for personal reasons, the sergeant leaves Christina in emotional turmoil. 

*   *   *

Dressed and waiting for the start of the dance in her HQ office, Christina's planning for a fort without McTodd is interrupted by the sergeant. He seeks a favor.

McTodd asks Christina to be her companion for the dance two weeks hence.

*   *   *

At the dance, Dan and Christina find their attraction to be mutually strong. They leave the troopers and other costumed participants (members of the county's historical society who donate their time in lieu of other considerations from the fort) and spend a few moments in the chapel-schoolhouse, both embracing hopes for something permanent.  

 
But, their passion is interrupted by a rider galloping onto the parade ground, warning the fort of a Comanche war party. It is part of the fort's scheduled events, of course, but Dan is compelled to leave Christina and to ride out on patrol with the troop.

Sunday
In the patrol's first camp, a fire's rising embers take the confidence of Joe and Dan for a soaring ride. But, as troopers fall asleep, an ancient fear gnaws at Joe. What is out there, in the darkness? He wonders: Could he have slept peacefully if this had been a real cavalry patrol, with enemies skulking in the night, savages ready to kill?  

*   *   *

Amy is missing from her apartment. Gerardo wrestles with his fears. When he finds a snapshot of her mutilated – breasts and pubic area excised from the photo – he speculates that she might be getting an abortion.

*   *   *

The Rocking B's foreman, Rodale, reports to Christina that they might have a trespasser on the range and he promises to check it out.

Monday
McTodd sends Gober out to find an intruder who has infiltrated the camp during the night and sliced into the troop's supply packs to steal most of the live ammo and an emergency CB unit known to be there only by McTodd, Gober, Christina and Rodale.

*   *   *

Gerardo arrives early at the ranch, hoping that Amy will be there, ready to ride out. He reveals his concerns to Christina.

*   *   *

Following the trail of the intruder, Gober is ambushed. A steel arrow thunks into his chest. He dies. And he is scalped.

*   *   *

The Comanches ride out for their ambush without Amy. Christina has promised Gerardo to make some inquiries about Amy's disappearance.

*   *   *

One of the troopers is startled to find a bloody scalp, hung on a branch for the patrol to find. McTodd buries it alone; later, Dan and Joe analyze McTodd's behavior when the sergeant attempts to portray the incident as part of the patrol's routine. They confront McTodd, who confirms the grave situation: They're being stalked by a savage enemy.

*   *   *

One of the Comanches discovers a mutilated, tortured body of a man and a bloody library card belonging to Amy, stunning Gerardo and his students.

*   *   *

Later, the troop hears screams in the night. It is a woman. Could it be Christina, kidnaped and tortured by a crazy savage?

Browning is appointed to take most of the troop back to the fort before McTodd and a handful of volunteers (among them Dan and Joe) ride out to face the intruder.

*   *   *

In the middle of the night, waiting for the moon to break through a cloud cover, Christina decides to search for Rodale. Having confirmed some clues about the trespassing, she finds the Comanches' camp and is informed of the tortured body and the screams. From the description of a dead horse also seen by the body, Christina deduces that it is Rodale's body.
 
The screams in the night continue.

Both Dan and McTodd, who has also shown romantic interest in Christina, fear that it may be her out there, screaming in pain. We learn that McTodd has quit his job to be in a position to court Christina, something his honor would not allow him to do as her employee.

Tuesday
McTodd leaves Joe in charge of four others as he rides out with Torres to scout a brushy plain on which they have observed a naked and bound hostage. She is too far away to identify.

*   *   *

From a ridge where McTodd expects them to ride onto the plain in support of his flanking maneuver, the troopers watch McTodd and Torres flushed out of the brush.

They are hit. They fall and lie still in the dust.

*   *   *

From the ridge, firing sparse bullets at a shadowy figure moving closer to McTodd and Torres, the troopers feel frustrated. "Mount up," Joe says.

On the back of his horse, Dan feels better. There is something comforting about the feel, the smell and the motion of being in the saddle. He draws strength from the ton of muscle under him.

Joe halts at the rim of the ridge. Side by side, the four troopers urge their horses down the slope of the ridge. On the flat ground, they line up four abreast, their horses still dancing with nervous energy, sensing the excitement that each rider must feel. Dan pulls his slouch hat tight over his brow. "I've always wanted to say this, for real,," Joe says, his voice rising.
"Charge!"

It is only about 150 yards. There are only four riders. And the horses in that cavalry charge had been selected for their gentleness and patience, not their speed. There are no banners. No drawn sabers glinting in the sunlight. No cannons spewing smoke and death. No trumpets. No steel-tipped lances. No line of horsemen challenging them. The enemy is one camouflaged ambusher, on foot, crawling in the dirt.

Hardly the stuff of which legends are made. But this is a dream fulfilled: Action not available anywhere else in the world. In those vivid moments, each become Errol Flynn in the charge of the Light Brigade; or John Wayne in the raid south of the Rio Grande; or Jeb Stuart's gray horsemen going stirrup to stirrup, saber to saber against the Union blue at the bloody Battle of Brandy Station; or General Pershing chasing Pancho Villa. Leaning forward in their saddles, whooping in the thrill of adventure and resolve, gripping tight the power of death or salvation, they embrace a new vision. New boldness.

And, then, just seconds after it began, it is over. Dan breaks away from the charge to rescue the hostage; Joe and two troopers ride to help their ambushed compadres.
Dan finds Amy attended by one of Gerardo's men, with Christina and the war party arriving soon after. Amy is unharmed, and Gerardo leads the war party out on the plain – where shots are being fired. Dan follows, leaving Christina, armed with a revolver, to comfort Amy.

*   *   *

Joe finds Torres dead and McTodd severely injured by the fall from his horse. A flurry of short arrows slays two of their horses, and Joe orders the other mount shot to provide a barricade. During the action, the other troopers are downed – one by a falling horse, the other by an arrow in the leg.

The killer – an anonymous snarling figure whose face is made grotesque by camouflage streaks – circles in behind Joe. "If you move, you die."

Joe believes the cold warning.  "I want a witness to this, to tell the world what happened to the brave McTodd, how he died, begging for mercy. And getting none." The voice breaks into a childish giggle of delight. "Getting no mercy."

McTodd groans. "Wake up. Look at me." Slap. Slap. McTodd groans again. "Come 'n. Come 'n. Open up."

"You?" McTodd is hoarse, his voice weak but clear. "It was you?"

"That's right, you old shit. Payback time. And now you begin to die."

As the sergeant suffers stoically under Skinner's knife, Joe reacts. He lunges for a gun and fires at the killer, who is chased into the brush, wounded, when the Comanches' war party rides to the rescue of the cavalry.

*   *   *

The killer circles back to the hostage site, but Amy alerts Christina.
In anger, aiming the revolver at an enemy threatening her friends and her dream, Christina fires at Skinner, believing that she hit him once before he disappears into the brush.

Epilogue
McTodd is dead.

*   *   *

Christina buries McTodd and Gober on the fort's grounds, grateful for the love and support of Dan but saddened by the loss of a friend and the death of her dream's innocence.

The anonymous and mysterious killer is not yet found, giving a special meaning to Joe's eulogy: "If evil survives, may there always be brave women and brave men to charge against it. May there always be love and pride and honor to defend the good; may the good be remembered far longer than the bones of evil may last, scattered and alone in the wild. May the good and the honorable be our heroes ..."

Bio:
Soren Nielsen, writing as Sean Warner, spent three decades in newspaper jobs – from low-paid reporter to high-stress management – and early in his four-state career discovered the therapeutic value of fiction writing.

Endorsements:

Because of the historical accuracy in this work, it might be well-received by the area’s historical associations, by West Texas newspapers, by area-native and award-winning Western writer Elmer Kelton, and by members of the memorial units now existing in the West. 
 

Film:
With Hollywood unable to completely ignore a horseback plot, this story is a great prospect. It has the elements of a good action Western but it’s also heart-thumping suspense, romance, character studious, and it makes social statements. Told in scenes that move it along movie-style, from its surprise opening to its heroic cavalry charge, “Fort Mackenzie” would be a medium-budget picture with meaty parts for many actors.

NOTE: All material is copyright protected.  No portion of this material may be copied or reproduced, either electronically,  mechanically, or by any other means, for resale or distribution without the written consent of the author.  All copy has been dated and registered with the American Society of Authors and Writers.  Copyright 2007 by The Swetky Agency