Fred drove the bus out of the barn and backed it down a sloping trench into the pit. Others quickly attached the trailer and the big engine roared as the bus took the weight of the trailer, dragging it up out of the pit.

"Keep a close eye on these jerks," Hannibal ordered Face and BA. He turned to the others. "Okay, bring their cars and trucks, and follow the bus." The commune members ran to the cars and trucks and yells came from the trailer.

"Hey! I don't want no peacenik freak driving my car!"

"Forget that! I don't want no chick driving my truck!"

Hannibal smirked as he saw Bluebell getting into the driver's seat of one of the pick-ups. Right. Time to go drop these jerks off. The women and children who'd been sheltering in the basement stood at the door now. Clara was there with her arms around Sam's shoulders looking worried. Don't worry, ma'am, Hannibal thought. They won't be back. He felt sorry the boy had been taken to the basement; it would have been good for him to see this - of course his parents would probably disagree. Billy ran over to Hannibal, jumping up at him, as if offering his congratulations. Hannibal patted his head and pushed him down.

"Go to Sam," he said. The kid could look after the dog while they finished the job. Everyone looked ready to go now. Honking horns and laughter told him his temporary and unlikely squads were still over-excited, but the long drive into town would cool them down. He climbed aboard the bus to find Ed and Fred, Fred still in the driver's seat.

"Let's go," Hannibal said.

The bus lumbered out of the yard, dragging the trailer behind it. One by one, the cars came after it until they were strung out in a convoy behind. In a few minutes they turned onto the paved surface of the road in the direction of the town.

"How far is this roadhouse where you said these guys hang out?"

"About twenty-five miles," Ed said.

"Sounds like a nice moonlight drive," Fred said grinning. "So how about some tunes?" He steered with his knees for a moment while he fiddled with the jerry rigged eight-track on the dashboard.

"Got any Sinatra?" Hannibal asked him.

"The Doors, man, The Doors."

Some weird music came out of the speakers. Of course, anything released after about 1960 sounded weird to Hannibal. Ed elbowed him and winked.

"I always had kind of a soft spot for 'It Was a Very Good Year' myself."

Hannibal laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, then he got up and walked to the back of the bus. He slid open a window and looked out at the trailer.

"How's it going back there, guys?"

"Oh great," Face called back, from where his perch on the side of the trailer. "Do you know how much suspension this thing has?"

"None at all?"

"Exactly right. My butt is earning a Purple Heart back here."

"How are our guests enjoying the ride?"

BA answered this time. "I caught one trying to cut his way outta the net with a knife. He ain't doing that no more."

"And one said something about another guy's wife," Face said, "and they're trying to fight each other. How far did you say we're going?"

"Twenty-five miles. Have fun." He closed up the window again and went back to get comfortable on a seat and put his feet up.

"Wake me when we get there."

~o~

The roadhouse and a gas station stood on opposite sides of road, a few miles outside of town. The gas station was open, but the roadhouse closed up, its neon advertising signs dark. Almost two-thirty now, Face saw, glancing at his watch.

"Let's get these creeps unloaded," Hannibal said, coming up to the trailer.

The trailer had a mechanism to raise the bed to a shallow slope and BA took charge of that, with a couple of guys helping him crank it. Face and Hannibal took their hunting knives and cut the net free from the nails. After some heaving, the net full of men slid off the trailer onto the ground. Though the net was cut open they were so hopelessly entangled now that none of them could get up yet.

Hannibal, grandstanding a little, Face thought, hopped up onto the once-again level to stand over his defeated enemy.

"Okay, jackasses, you give these people any more trouble and we'll be back. You won't like that, believe me. Next time we'll drag you into town, and drop you in the middle of Main Street, so everybody can see you got your sorry butts kicked."

"Hannibal," Face said, quietly. "We'd better move it, before any cops show up." He nodded over at the gas station. "Someone's watching us right now." Covering the night shift at a 24-hour gas station didn't seem like a job ripe with entertainment possibilities and the scene out here must be the best thing the attendant had seen in months.

"Let's go people!" Hannibal called. "Everyone on the bus! Come on, move it, move it." The commune came running and climbed aboard.

"Hey," Ed hung out of the door. "We need to fill up with gas before we head back. Hauling that thing has left us nearly dry."

"Okay," Hannibal said, "Come on, Face, BA." Face glared at him and wondered if he'd get it right even once. Just distribute our 'wanted' posters, why don't you, Colonel?

"Coming, John." He smirked at Hannibal's wince. They all piled aboard and the bus turned slowly out of the parking lot of the roadhouse and crossed the road to the gas station. Fred jumped out and started filling the tank. That could take some time, Face thought, and hoped that someone had remembered to bring some cash. Even he found it hard to talk anyone into handing over free gasoline. A sound at the back of the bus made him look over to see the emergency exit door standing open. Face looked out of the window and saw Jeffrey going from the bus to the gas station. Damn, Face thought. He's going for a phone. He's going to call the cops.

"Excuse me." Face didn't explain to Hannibal - no time. Jeffrey could be calling the sheriff's department right this second. He jumped out the front door of the bus and ran into the gas station. No sign of Jeffrey.

"You have a phone in here, buddy?" Face asked the attendant. The man pointed to a corner and Face ran to find a small alcove, a phone and Jeffrey. Face grabbed him and shoved him against the wall.

"Going to give someone a call, huh?" Face demanded, almost nose to nose with the boy. Jeffrey struggled but couldn't escape Face's grip.

"I never touched the damn phone! I came for these." He held up a pack of cigarettes still wrapped in cellophane and Face belatedly noticed the cigarette vending machine against the wall next to the phone.

"Smokes? You came in here for smokes?"

"Will you let me go?"

Face did, wondering if he'd become entirely paranoid. Still, Face felt sure the boy - he caught himself, and shook his head. Boy? Face was no older than Jeffrey, might even be younger. They all seemed so young now; the ones who hadn't been over there.

"You know who we are, don't you?" Face said.

"Yes. I saw your pictures in the papers."

"But you're not calling the military on us?"

"No." Jeffrey opened the packet of cigarettes and offered it to Face, who shook his head. Jeffrey took out a gold cigarette lighter and lit one for himself. "My dad sells these things," he said, rattling the pack. "We're an old firm, really old. Foundations soaked in blood." He shook his head. "If I rat you people out for that reward, then I might as well go and work for him like he wants."

Well, he's still a jerk, Face thought, but at least he's not a hypocrite. It sounded an alarm bell, though, loud and clear. The team should get out of here fast, before they found out that someone else was a hypocrite. Hannibal's voice sounded from around the corner.

"Let's go, fellas!"

Face gestured 'after you' at Jeffrey. Still keeping him where he could see him.

~o~

The bus set off back to the commune. Most of the passengers curled up in the seats, trying to sleep. Face dozed for a while, beside Bluebell, but woke when someone shoved his shoulder. He looked around to see Hannibal and BA heading to the back of the bus. Careful not to wake Bluebell, Face slid out of his seat and followed them.

Time to talk.

They sat in the last couple of rows of seats and spoke quietly.

"You think the sheriff will come up here?" BA asked.

"No." Hannibal shook his head, taking out his cigar. "Those guys aren't going to go and complain they got their butts handed to them by a bunch of peaceniks."

"And if they come looking for revenge?" Face asked.

"I told them we'd be back if that happened."

"And you meant it?"

Hannibal looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. If we do a job, we provide full service. A lifetime guarantee." He grinned.

"A job?" Face wasn't sure what to make of that. "Was this a job? Nobody paid us."

"Well, maybe not, but I got a lot of satisfaction out of it."

"Aw, man, great, he's on the Jazz again." BA groaned. "Thought we'd seen the last of that."

"Never, BA, never." Hannibal stuck his cigar back in his mouth and puffed on it a few times to bring it back to life. "C'mon, fellas, admit it. This was a lot of fun."

Face and BA gave each other the usual 'Colonel's on the Jazz' look, though Face thought he saw a tiny smile flicker across BA's face.

"Yeah, I guess it was," Face admitted. "Now, if only someone would pay us to do it."

"You know, we gonna run out of money soon," BA said. "Unless you planning for us to live out here permanently - and we already decided that ain't happening, Colonel - we need to figure a way to get some cash."

"And we need a way to get some cash while living in LA," Face said. This time he got no objection from Hannibal.

"So, what the heck do we know how to do?" BA asked.

"Rob banks," Face said. "But I don't think that's a job with a future. Not a long one, anyway. Other than that, it's all just military stuff."

"Are you kidding?" Hannibal said. "Face, you can talk anybody into anything and you're the best scrounger I ever served with. BA, you can turn a go-cart into a Formula One race car."

"So?"

"There are ways to use those skills outside the military."

"So, BA becomes a mechanic and I become a... a conman?"

Hannibal frowned. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"And what about you?" Face asked. "I mean we know what you're good at - giving orders." Hannibal slightly looked miffed at that and Face rephrased. "I mean command. You're good at being in charge; you're a leader. But how are you going to do that while on the run? You can't be a CEO of a company while you're a fugitive."

"You're thinking about this the wrong way," Hannibal said. "You're thinking about working individually, rather than as a team."

"But combat is what we do as a team," BA said. "I guess we could... I dunno, become mercenaries... Lotsa ex-military types do that."

"No!" Hannibal said, sharply.

"Hey, I don't like the idea," BA said, raising his hands, palms out. "Just trying to figure out something that we can do."

"Being mercenaries would mean leaving the country for sure," Hannibal said. "Going and fighting in somebody else's war."

"I don't want to do that," Face said quietly. He paused and went on after a moment, looking at Hannibal. "Not just leaving the country. I mean, I don't want to kill people. I'm done with that. Doing it in Vietnam... well it was a war; it was our war. But being paid to fight someone else's war? Killing people for money? No." He looked down again and then gave a wry smile. "Maybe these peace and love folks are a bad influence on me."

"More like a good one," Hannibal said. "I couldn't have put it any better myself, Face."

"Yeah, man," BA said.

"Okay," Hannibal said, "so that brings us back around again. We need to figure out something to do as a team, using the skills we learned in the Army, as well as our own particular talents. But it has to be in the US and based in LA and not involving killing anybody. All of this while staying one step ahead of the military. Did I miss anything?" They shook their heads and he sighed. "Even I'm not thinking 'piece of cake' right now. If we could just get people to pay us for doing something like we did here tonight."

"What if we could?" Face asked. "What if we weren't mercenaries exactly, but more like... trouble-shooters?"

"Who would pay us for that?" BA said. "Anyway, ain't that just the same as hired muscle?"

"If we have to be hired muscle, we'll be the best hired muscle around," Hannibal promised. "It's an idea though, Face. Let me think about it for a while."

Face nodded and looked to the front of the bus as they turned off the road and onto the track up to the farmhouse. The bumping woke up most of the sleeping people. Face leaned in close to Hannibal and BA.

"We can't stick around here long. We don't know who else besides Jeffrey might have spotted us. Lynch could be on his way right now."

"Yeah," BA agreed. "I think we should move on quick. Get back on track for LA."

Hannibal agreed. "If Lynch is on his way, then I guess our good deed just undid everything we've worked to achieve the last few weeks. Still, like I said, it was worth it. Needed a challenge." He smiled wryly. "I think my brain had started to seize up out here."