Want to commit suicide? The quickest way is to tangle with Lassiter. Cross him just once—and he'll pull the trigger for you. He's killed a lot of people for a lot less. Lassiter wasn't born mean, but he learned easily. But he's no meaner than the times he lives in, no dirtier than the men he's killed. Not that Lassiter frets about dead men, because he never killed a man who didn't need killing—more or less. Lassiter is cold as a corpse in January, tough as a chuck-wagon steak, cruel as an Apache when he has to be. Lassiter is everything you would expect a hero not to be.

Burke Hunter, one of the deadliest knife fighters in the West, had disappeared.
Sundance was hired to look for him, and got as far as an Apache Indian camp where Hunter had been taken prisoner, suspected of stealing a sacred cache of Apache gold.
But when Hunter double-crossed him and the Apaches tried to capture him, Sundance knew that there was going to be death on the desert, either by a bullet or a blade.
He also knew that Hunter's beautiful wife Eloise would welcome the survivor, whichever man it proved to be!

Weapons manufacturer Hiram Maxim was a man with a problem. The Ku Klux Klan and a labor movement known as the United Workers of America were cutting up rough and threatening to put his business partner, a Scottish laird-turned-meat packer named Kinnock, out of business. So he sent Gatling to West Texas with orders to deal with the bully-boys.
It was a tall order. Those fellers played for keeps and there wasn't much they wouldn't do to get their own way. Still, as rough as they played, Gatling played rougher. And with the latest weapons at his disposal, as well as an armed and armored Motor Scout car, Gatling was about to play plenty rough indeed.

The U.S. wanted a canal ripped through the jungles of Panama; a host of guerillas, outlaws and renegade politicians wanted the U.S. out. Gatling didn't care who dug the hole, he just didn't want to be buried in it. He had work to do. The colonel had entrusted an array of new weapons to him to prove their worth in the field. Using live ammo against live targets was Gatling's specialty, and in Panama the bullets would be flying thicker than the bloodthirsty mosquitoes.

When Lassiter broke out of jail with the Irishman Pierce McCain, the next logical step seemed to be joining McCain's half-breed army in their crazy rebellion. McCain needed guns, and Lassiter agreed to get them—for a price. There would be big money if he succeeded and a swing in a noose if he failed!

Lassiter has a habit of turning up where the action is, particularly when money is involved.

Tombstone, Arizona Territory was where the "Fight of the Century" was being held. Fight fans, fancy women, gamblers, con men and other criminals wanted to see The Chocolate Kid–a black fighter with a mean mouth–beaten by the white hope.

The town was wild and tense. Lassiter hired himself out to The Chocolate Kid as a bodyguard. He figured he'd see the Kid through the fight and clear out of town with all the takings. But he has a lot of slugging and shooting to do as professional gunmen are intent on taking the Kid's hide. And don't care if Lassiter gets in their way ...

In Mexico, the governor of a rebel state had hijacked a shipment of Lee-Enfield rifles and enough ammunition to start a small war. The president of Mexico was worried, the president of the U.S. was worried—Gatling didn't give a damn. But his boss, the colonel, told him to get those rifles back or get another job. Gatling couldn't afford a drain on his gold reserves, so he agreed. On one condition ...

At the end of the Civil War, General Jackson Kilby took some of his fellow Confederates south to settle in a new land: Parimba Province, Brazil. There they prospered, and were continuing to prosper when Jorge Suarez, a violent revolutionary and his army of murderers and maniacs, threatened their continued survival.

The old general was a fighter. But to fight Suarez he needed guns. So he bought eighty thousand dollars' worth of weapons and ammunition from the Maxim Firearms Company, and Maxim's representative, Gatling, was sent along to make sure they arrived safely and that Kilby's men knew how to use them. Gatling had no intention of fighting the war himself. But Fate had other ideas about that. And that's why the Amazon started running red pretty soon after he got there.

Master armorer, dead shot and expert in death, Gatling tested automatic weapons from all over the world-on living bodies. Paid in gold for his bloody work, he was probably the single most dangerous man in the Old West. For at his command was more firepower than a cavalry regiment and more deadly force than the Grim Reaper. He would need every ounce of skill to take on....
THE MISSION
His baggage was heavy-.37 millimeter Revolving Cannons that spat out death of biblical proportions-and a feeling of guilt that he'd have to use it on a half-trained Canadian militia. But he'd sold his soul to the Colonel for a box of gold and he couldn't turn back. His task was to bring an arsenal of automatic weapons to the métis people, mixed bloods who were planning a full-scale war against the Canadian government. Backed by Irish revolutionaries and the crackpot Annex Canada Committee, Gatling was out to create an international incident that could explode into a World war.

Lassiter feared no man. His iron fists and quick guns had made him the terror of the Outlaw Trail. He clashed with Wells Fargo agent Sidney Blood, a crafty man-hunter, whose prisoners weren't fit to be locked up—just buried. He tangled with Butch Cassidy, the icy-eyed boss of the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang, whose holsters were filled with death. Lassiter lived by his own code and backed his words with bullets. Gunman, drifter, train robber, Lassiter lived a dozen lifetimes in one—lifetimes filled with whisky, women and gunsmoke.

Lassiter wants Diana Kelly for the money she can bring him ... Wells Fargo wants Lassiter so they use Diana to bait a trap.
With Wells Fargo's legal killers snapping at his heels, he figured it was time he headed north to Wyoming—and rested up for a spell. But it wasn't that easy. Things never are simple—or easy—for Lassiter. Because Lassiter is the kind of man who finds trouble wherever he goes. This time there was big trouble and big money and a beautiful woman—all the things Lassiter lives for. Lassiter steals and kills and you might just mistake him for a born killer. The truth is—Lassiter kills people to stay alive. And that's exactly what Lassiter plans to do—to stay alive no matter what it takes. Lassiter—like it or not—is a new breed of Westerner.

A herd of cattle had been stolen, the cowboys who tended them massacred. A story was going around that Comanches were responsible—three dead braves found in the vicinity of the massacre were said to be part of the war party.
But Jim Sundance knew better.
Half-Indian himself, he set out to prove that his brothers had been framed—by a white man.
The vengeance trail led straight to Hale Erskine, former major in the Confederate Army, and now the biggest cattle rancher in the brasada.
If Sundance had anything to do with it, Erskine wouldn't live to see another day!

Gatling was a master armorer, a dead shot and an expert in his field—which was death. Armed with the latest automatic weapons from all over the world and paid in gold to test them on living bodies, he was probably the single most dangerous man in the Old West. At his command he had more firepower than a cavalry regiment, and more guts than a Cheyenne war party. He would need all of his skill to take on...
THE MISSION
The Copper Trust was arming the savage Jicarilla Apaches to drive the peaceful Zunis off their land. A mountain of ore was at stake and the Zunis had only one weapon—Gatling. The odds were a hundred to one against him, but Gatling figured it was the Apaches who had better start praying.

Butte, Montana was a blast furnace of violence and murder. On one side were the bloat-gut mine owners, who'd steal the pennies off a dead man's eyes; on the other, the fanatical anarchist, Michael Patrick Kane, who'd kill anyone for his cause. And in the middle was Gatling, who hated both sides equally. There would be a hot time in the old town when he unleashed his weapons on innocent and guilty alike.