“Is that supposed to scare me? Why, because technically you’re my boss? Because you’re gonna go above my head and get me in trouble? Because you’re gonna threaten my job?”

“No,” Luke said. “Because I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Ed half-smiled and shook his head. “I can’t wait.”

“Well, while you savor the anticipation, do you mind if we finish up the mission in the meantime?”

* * *

“Good job, boys. Your mothers will be proud.”

The man was talking to Ed and Luke.

“This is exactly the kind of trash that needs cleaning up. They’re ruining my war zone. I don’t like that.”

He was a tall, ramrod straight colonel from the 1st Cavalry. He had stepped off a Black Hawk in the wide palace courtyard, wearing a cowboy hat, snakeskin boots, and wraparound sunglasses. He lit up a victory cigar and smiled.

Luke had been right. As soon as the choppers announced over the loudspeakers that Parr was dead, his little ragtag army had rolled over. They hadn’t fired a shot. There were less than twenty of them, and they wanted no part of a fight against Black Hawks and Apaches. They were tired. They just wanted to go home and do their time. Maybe they could cop some kind of plea deal, and see daylight again before they were old men.

Then again, maybe not.

Luke watched a group of them being loaded into a chopper. They were daisy-chained together, manacled at the ankles and wrists. Bearded, muscled-up, with long hair or Mohawks, wearing crazy clothes and with tattoos all over them. It had been a game to them. They were stars in a movie only they could see.

Now, they were abject in defeat. Their shoulders were slumped, their heads down. Clean-cut 1st Cav guys moved them along, none too gently.

“What goes up must come down,” Ed Newsam said. He said it loud enough for the men in chains to hear him. One of them, a big guy with a thick beard and long blond hair, turned and glared at Ed.

“Yeah, man. I’m talking to you. Enjoy those thirty years inside. I’ll be thinking about you when I’m sipping rum and Coke in Barbados.”

Just then, the first group of women and girls were brought outside. They squinted in the bright sunlight. It was unfortunate timing. The girls were afraid of the 1st Cav soldiers, as it was. But they cowered when they saw the remains of Parr’s militia.

All but one.

An older woman in a long black robe and black headscarf broke off from the group.

“Ma’am?” said one of the young soldiers escorting them. “Ma’am!”