Beginnings 4: Diversionary Tactics	New A-Slash Archive Entry     Home

 Search Engine
 Random Story

 Upload Story

      	

  Beginnings 4: Diversionary Tactics 
 by HannibalFan52 and Jullian Gray  

 Title: Beginnings 4: Diversionary Tactics by HannibalFan'52 and Jullian
Gray

 Summary: The Team is on the run from Lynch at the start of their career. 

 **********

 Prologue

 John `Hannibal' Smith drove along the narrow, two-lane road that wound
its way through the forests northwest of Fairplay, Colorado, noting the
leaves that were fully out now on this morning in late May. B.A., in the
passenger seat, was engrossed in the latest issue of Popular Mechanics,
and he could hear soft snoring coming from the back seat.

 He wasn't surprised. Face had taken the last watch, and then helped
strike camp. Now, after a decent breakfast, it was only natural that the
young man catch up on his beauty sleep, lying lengthwise on the back seat.
They'd made good progress during the morning, even with taking it easy.

 Hannibal drove carefully. The woods were alive with deer, and he didn't
want to risk hitting one. If he did, they would have a hard time getting
another vehicle. Plus the fact that tendrils of fog occasionally scudded
across the road, obscuring the view ahead.

 Suddenly, out of the mist, two cars came racing towards him, side by
side. The grey one in his lane slammed repeatedly into the other,
obviously intent on running it off the road.

 Finally, the target car jumped the raised verge and came to rest
nose-down in a ditch.

 Hannibal was just able to yank the wheel to the right as the attack car
flashed past. The rough surface of the shoulder startled B.A., and caused
Face to slide off the back seat. Once they'd come to a halt, Hannibal
turned and stared out the rear window, watching as the tail-lights
disappeared into the fog.

 **********

 Act I

 `What's up, Colonel?' B.A. said urgently as the older man carefully
guided the car back onto the road. 

 "What are you trying to do kill me?" Face griped as he pulled himself up
from the floor and onto the seat.

 `I just witnessed an "accident",' Hannibal said grimly. `We're lucky we
weren't part two.' He pulled up next to the maroon car in the ditch.
`C'mon!'

 A low moan greeted them as they scrambled down the bank of the ditch.
Hannibal tried to open the driver's door, but it was wedged too tightly.

 B.A. looked inquiringly at Hannibal; at his nod, they traded places.

 Grasping the handle, he took several deep breaths, then pulled with hard
but steady pressure, growling in concentration. At length, the door opened
with a loud, grating squeal.

 Face quickly ducked under his arm to catch the driver as he started to
slip out. Easing him from behind the wheel, they carried him to the
shoulder, Hannibal supporting his head and neck, as they had been taught
in Viet Nam.

 As they laid the man down, Face got a good look at him for the first
time, and gasped. While there were some obvious differences, if his lover
hadn't been kneeling next to him, he might have mistaken the stranger for
a slightly younger Hannibal.

 The man on the ground began to moan, turning his head side-to-side as he
regained consciousness.

 `Take it easy, friend,' Hannibal said gently as he kept the other's head
still. `You've been in an accident, and you hit your head pretty hard.'

 The supine man stopped obediently, then blinked several times before
focusing on his rescuers.

 `Who are you guys?' he asked warily.

 `We just happened to be in the neighborhood when you car was run off the
road,' Hannibal reassured him. `Thought we'd see how you were doing,
seeing as this spot is miles from anywhere.'

 `I've got a splitting headache, to begin with, and I ache all over,' the
man groaned. `I'm not surprised,' Hannibal told him. `Now, can you tell me
how far it is to the nearest hospital?' 

 Their patient frowned in concentration. 

 `Ummm...about twenty miles, back the way I came.' 

 Hannibal nodded, going into command mode. 

 `All right, sir, we're going to get you there as best we can. You just
relax.' He looked at his men. `Okay, guys, we don't have a stretcher, but
we usually didn't in `Nam, either. We'll get him in the back seat; Face,
you'll have to cradle his head so it doesn't move too much. B.A., you
drive while I check the map. If we see any cop cars,' he hesitated for a
moment, `we flag one down and have them call an ambulance.' 

 B.A. frowned. 

 `That could be dangerous, man.' 

 `I know. It's a calculated risk,' Hannibal acknowledged, `but I'm betting
that any cops would be too busy with our friend here to be worried about
us.' 

 Face nodded. As terrified as he was of being returned to jail, getting
help for the injured man had to be their primary concern. Without being
told, he got a couple of blankets out of the car, then spread them out so
that B.A. and Hannibal could roll their charge onto it, then they used it
as a stretcher to move him to the car. Carefully, they slid him lengthwise
into the back seat, and Face sat with the man's head in his lap.
Carefully, B.A. pulled back onto the road, then drove as quickly as he
dared to the next town. 

 *****

 `There, B.A.!' 

 B.A. looked where Hannibal was pointing. Nodding curtly, he pulled up to
the emergency entrance. Getting out, he went in search of help. It was
only moments before two orderlies appeared with a gurney. Gently, they
slid the injured man out of the car, then whisked him inside.

 Face started to follow, but Hannibal stopped him with a gentle touch.

 `Just a moment, Tem,' he said as he picked up the blankets the orderlies
had left behind and tossed them into the back seat. He looked at his men.
`We're only about halfway across the country, but we're still a lot closer
to California than we were. Lynch is bound to have checked with anyone and
everyone associated with us by now, and knows we're not in any of those
places.' 

 `Which means,' B.A. concluded, `he's gonna start combin' the rest o' the
country.' `Right. Now, we've been rather lax about keeping our identities
quiet up `til now, so we're going to have to be a lot more careful from
here on in. I want you to think about what names you're comfortable using.
Make it something simple and easy to remember, and close enough to your
real name so that if you slip up, it's not too noticeable.'

 Face and B.A. nodded, and he led them inside. 

 As they entered, they saw one of the orderlies jerk a thumb over his
shoulder, and the receptionist look up at them, before the patient was
wheeled into an exam room. Nervously, she approached them.

 `Are...are you the gentlemen who found Brett?' asked the young woman,
whose name-tag read `Charlene`.

 `Brett?' Hannibal asked. 

 `Brett Wallace. The man who was just brought in. Did you find him?'

 `Well, yes, I guess we did,' Hannibal replied. `But we don't know his
name. We just happened to be there when his car was run off the road.'

 Charlene gasped, and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him into her office.
Face and B.A. followed.

 `Shhhh!' she whispered urgently. `It's not safe making remarks like that
around here.' 

 `What do you mean?'

 `Look, I can't talk here, but I want to thank you for bringing him in. I
have to call his wife now, and I'm sure she'll want to meet you. If you'd
just take seats in the waiting room?' Charlene pointed to a lounge across
the hall. `It shouldn't take her long to get here.'

 Intrigued by what the young woman had said, Hannibal acquiesced
courteously before heading for the waiting room. Face and B.A. just shook
their heads as they followed, knowing their leader was on the Jazz for
sure.

 *****

 Twenty minutes later, a brunette in her mid-thirties, wearing a Post
Office uniform, hurried into the reception area, and was directed her to
one of the exam rooms.

 ***

 Samantha Wallace pushed open the door to exam room #3, and was relieved
to find only a nurse in attendance. She hurried to her husband's side. 

 `Brett?' she called softly. `Brett honey?' Slowly, Brett opened his eyes
and smiled. `Sam!' he said. `How did you get here?' 

 `Charlene called me at the Post Office,' Samantha replied, taking his
hand. `What happened? How are you?' 

 `I hit a chuck-hole in the road,' Brett sighed resignedly, noting the
look that appeared in his wife's eyes. `Car landed in a ditch. Don't
really know how I got here. I guess somebody found me and brought me in.
As to how I'm feeling, I guess I'm all right.' 

 The nurse looked up and smiled warmly at them both. 

 `You've got a pretty good bump on your head, Brett,' she said, `and a few
bruised ribs, but you'll be okay. You were pretty lucky.' 

 `I guess so,' Brett acknowledged. `When can I get out of here?' 

 `The doctor's signing the discharge papers now, so it won't be long. I'll
go get you a wheelchair.' 

 `Don't bother,' said Brett. `I can walk all right.' 

 `Hospital regulations, Brett Wallace,' the nurse said with concerned
look. `You've been in here often enough lately to know that! Now, you just
wait here for me.' 

 Brett and Samantha chuckled as she left. 

 *****

 As Samantha pushed her husband's wheelchair past the reception desk,
Charlene came out and spoke with the couple, then pointed in the direction
of the visitors lounge. Nodding, she made her way across the hall. Seeing
the three occupants variously engaged in watching television and reading
month-old magazines, Sam cleared her throat. `Excuse me,' she said, `but
Charlene tells me that you're the people who pulled my husband from his
car in the ditch?' 

 The tall, brown-haired man turned his blue gaze on her. Noting the man in
the wheelchair, he smiled. 

 `Yes,' he said. `We just happened to be passing when we saw the
"accident" happen.' He noted the flash of anger in the young woman's eyes
at the word. `It was such a remote area, we knew we couldn't just leave,
so we did what we could.'

 `We can't thank you enough,' Brett spoke up, `and we'd like to show our
appreciation. Would you care to follow us home? We can at least offer you
a cup of coffee and some lunch. I know I'm starving!' 

 Hannibal looked at his men, who tacitly agreed. 

 *****

 An hour later, Face was helping Brett settle into his favorite armchair
while Hannibal helped carry coffee and sandwiches into the living room of
the Wallaces' small home on the outskirts of town. Once everyone had been
served, Samantha sat back in her own chair and looked at the three
strangers. 

 `I want to thank you again for what you did for my husband. Not many
people around here would've done that, even if someone had come along.
That's a pretty solitary stretch of road, Mr...' 

 `Smith, Sean Smith. These are my friends, Arthur Temple and Albert
Boscone,' Hannibal replied, indicating Face and B.A. in turn. 

 `I can't remember much of what happened,' Brett admitted, `but I'm sure
glad you happened along when you did.'

 `That reminds me,' said Samantha, fixing her husband with a beady stare,
`what was all that guff about hitting a chuck-hole. That road was just
re-paved recently; there are no chuck-holes.'

 `Samantha,' Brett said quietly, `I'm sure Mr. Smith and his friends don't
want to be involved in our troubles.'

 `Actually,' Hannibal said, `we're kind of involved already. We were
nearly hit by the same car that ran you off the road, and we were seen
bringing you into the hospital. Besides,' he added, much to the
consternation of his companions, `this seems to be the sort of thing that
piques our interest.'

 `Well, if you're sure.'

 Samantha looked at them incredulously.

 `What do you mean - run off the road?' she demanded, sitting down hard.
`Oh, my God! Brett! You could've been killed!'

 `I think, ma'am,' said Face, `that was the general idea. It usually is.'
B.A. nodded and growled.

 `That's why I didn't say anything to you in the exam room, Sam,' Brett
told her. `Mandy's okay, so's Charlene, but I couldn't tell who else might
be listening..' He turned to Hannibal, but before he could say anything,
they could hear the voices of two young children who were running up the
front path..

 `Dad! Dad!' yelled a ten-year-old boy as he yanked open the front door,
trailed by his younger sister. `You'll never guess what Becca did at
recess!' At the sight of the three strangers, the two kids came skidding
to a halt, almost running into each other.

 `Steven! Rebecca!' Samantha said sharply, but gently. `Where are your
manners?' `Kids,' Brett said with a smile, `I'd like you to meet Sean,
Arthur, and Albert. They were a big help to Daddy this morning, and so
we've asked them to lunch.' The children solemnly shook hands with the
newcomers. Steven was intrigued by the brown-haired man who looked so much
like his father, and liked the smile on the young man with the dark blond
hair. 

 Rebecca stared at B.A. with wide eyes. 

 `Gee, you're tan!' she blurted out. 

 `Becca!' Samantha gasped, feeling like she wanted to drop through the
floor. B.A. laughed and dropped to one knee beside the little girl. 

 `I sure am, little sister,' he said, a wide grin on his face. `I sure am.
How old are you?' Rebecca shyly held up six fingers. `That's a good age to
be. I had a lot of fun when I was six.'

 `All right, you two,' Samantha said, gathering the kids together and
herding them towards the kitchen. `I'll get your lunch, then you can go
out in the yard and play until it's time to go back to school.' 

 As she disappeared, Brett turned to B.A.

 `I'm sorry, Mr. Boscone,' he said. `Becca didn't mean anything by it.
It's just that we don't get many blacks in this part of the country, so
she's never had an opportunity to meet someone like you before.' 

 `It's all right, man,' B.A. assured him. `She's just a kid, and kids get
curious.' 

 `Thanks for being so understanding.' 

 `No problem, man.' 

 `Now, care to tell me why someone would want to run you into a ditch?'
Hannibal said.

 `Easy,' Brett replied. `I make too much of a nuisance of myself.' He
chuckled as Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

 `I'm a reporter, and I work for the local newspaper,' Brett continued.
`Several years ago, I noticed some things that didn't seem quite right, so
I started digging. The more I dug, the more I found, and the more I got
under the skin of certain people around town - most notably, the mayor and
his cronies. 

 `You've heard of Tammany Hall?' Hannibal nodded, though his younger
companions looked blank at the name. `Well, what we've got here is a
small-time, mid-western version of the same thing: graft, kickbacks,
bid-rigging, intimidation - you name it, it's being done. And it's hurting
our town.' 

 `Don't tell me,' Face said. `Now that you're standing up to them, they're
making life difficult for you.' 

 `Ain't no call to be doin' that,' growled B.A. `Bunch o' fat cats livin'
off the hard work of others. Makes me see red!' 

 Hannibal was pleased with his Lieutenant and Sergeant. They may not have
known about Tammany Hall, but they were certainly familiar with the
tactics.

 `I've talked to Judge Hargrove `til I'm blue in the face,' said Brett.
`The man either can't or won't see what's happening right under his nose!'
Hannibal raised an eyebrow. `Oh, I don't think that he's tainted by all
this. He's as honest as the day is long, but I think that blinds him to
what's really going on.'

 `A few of us tried to do something about it, and approached Mayor Torby,
but he wouldn't give us the time of day. He's got the chief of police in
his pocket, too, so when the beatings and killings started, any complaints
were hushed up. Now, most people are too scared to come forward, and I
really can't say I blame them. But things won't change until we get
organized and stand up to these creeps.

 `So, in spite of everything, we still have a small group of people
determined to fight back. We've got a pretty good network, but the problem
is that we don't really know where to go from here.'

 `I've got some ideas,' Hannibal told him. `Can you arrange a meeting,
somewhere we're unlikely to be disturbed?'

 `Let me run it by my contacts; one of them may have some ideas.' Brett
smiled. `We've got a nice little town here, Mr. Smith. I hate seeing it
destroyed like this.'

 `Well, we'll see what we can do to help prevent that.' Hannibal looked at
his watch. `But it's getting a bit late. Since we're going to be hanging
around a while, can you suggest any cheap motels in the area?'

 Samantha, returning from the kitchen, shook her head.

 `Not really,' she said, `at least, none that are within a reasonable
distance. I'd offer to put you up, but with two kids, we're kind of
cramped as it is.'

 Face sighed. 

 `Looks like we're back to camping out,' he said.

 `If you're game,' Brett put in, `we've got a pretty large backyard. You
could set up your gear there.'

 Hannibal shook his head.

 `It's tempting, Mr. Wallace,' he said, `but perhaps it would be best if
we stayed out of sight for the most part. If the people trying to silence
you think you have protection, it would make our job harder trying to
catch them.'

 `No problem,' Brett told them. `Our yard backs onto the woods. You could
hide your car in our garage, then make camp there. After all, hikers do it
all the time, so it won't draw any undue attention. How does that sound?'
Face and B.A. groaned at the thought of sleeping on rocks again. Brett,
deducing the reason, sweetened the deal. `We've even got a couple of cots
we don't use anymore. How about it?'

 `I think you've got yourself a deal, Mr. Wallace,' he grinned. `Now the
trick will be to set up a clandestine meeting with your friends. Think you
can do that?'

 Brett smiled and nodded.

 `Consider it done!'

 *****

 Mayor Richard Torby laughed heartily as he left the conference room at
City Hall. One of the bankers at the meeting had just told a very funny
joke. It annoyed him, therefore, when a low-level clerical type sidled up
to him and whispered in his ear.

 `What do you mean, he survived?' Torby hissed, a thunderous look clouding
his face. The underling just shrugged. `Never mind; I'll find out for
myself. Just get the police chief on the phone. Find out where he is, and
tell him I need to see him.' The clerk scuttled away as fast as he could.

 Readjusting his expression, Torby excused himself, and hurried to his
office. 

 *****

 Two hours later, Torby found himself at the local gun club, having an
impromptu conference with Martin Reed at the skeet-shooting range.

 `Pull!' the police chief called. Moments later, the clay pigeon exploded
in mid-air.

 The mayor gave a sidelong glance at the young deputy in charge of the
skeet launcher.

 `Don't worry about Murray here,' Reed said. `He's on the payroll. Pull!'
Another pigeon bit the dust.

 `What the hell happened this morning?!' Torby growled. `Your man messed
up. Wallace is still alive!'

 `Pure bad luck, is all,' Reed said, breaking the shotgun and ejecting the
spent cartridges. He put in two more as he continued. `Another car
happened along. It was nothing anybody could have predicted.'

 `Another car! Who was it? That road is usually empty that time of day!'

 `You got me. Pull!' The next pigeon didn't survive any longer than its
predecessors. `My man didn't recognize it. An old station wagon, blue with
two colors of primer on the front end.'

 `Well, hopefully it was somebody just passing through.' Torby sighed. 

 `I'll look into it,' Reed assured him, `but whoever it was, they're
probably long gone. Pull!'

 `Well, Brett's got the wind up now,' Torby sighed. `Maybe we should just
back off for a while. We'll never get near him.'

 `Don't worry,' said Reed as he reloaded again. `I've got something in
mind. Wallace will be taken care of before too long, and we'll all be able
to breathe easier by the end of the month. Now get out of here before
things start to look suspicious!'

 With that, he turned his back on the mayor.

 `Pull!'

 Torby left. At the entrance to the range, he looked back just in time to
watch another clay pigeon disintegrate.

 *****

 Hannibal looked through the trees. He could barely make out the back
porch-light at the Wallace's house. Their hosts had offered to leave it on
as a guide in case they needed to reach the house in a hurry. In return,
Hannibal decided to mount watches, not only for their own benefit, but for
that of Brett and his family, as well.

 Ducking into the tent for a moment, he found his lover sitting
cross-legged on his cot, a piece of paper in his hand. He recognized it
from the dot-matrix printing on its surface.

 `Tem,' he said quietly, so as not to wake B.A. `It's after midnight, and
you've got the next watch. What are you doing awake?'

 `I know,' Face sighed. `It's just that the closer we get to L.A., the
more anxious I am to see Murdock. `

 `I guessed as much. But you've got to remember, baby, that he's in pretty
bad shape, according to what the nurses told me. You may not like what you
see the first time we visit.'

 `I know, Hannibal. I like to think, though, that our friendship is strong
enough to get us through the rough spots, and guide him back to sanity.'

 `I'm sure it is, kid. In the meantime, get some sleep,' the Colonel said,
giving his lover a soft kiss. `I'll wake you in four.'

 `Kay, Hannibal,' Face agreed sleepily as the older man turned to leave.

 Hannibal looked back as he reached the door of the tent, to see nothing
but a few strands of dark blond hair sticking out from under Face's
blanket. He shook his head and smiled as he stepped out into the cool
night air. 

 **********

 Act II

 A couple nights later, Brett drove Hannibal and his men to a barn on the
other side of town. When they walked in, Hannibal was pleasantly surprised
to see a wide variety of people in attendance. As they mingled, Brett
began to introduce them to his friends.

 `Tommy!' Brett called across the floor. The person hailed turned as they
approached. He smiled when he saw Brett.

 `Hey, guy!' he said jovially. `Good to see you! I heard what happened the
other day. The black eye suits you!'

 `Gee, thanks - I think!' Brett laughed in return. `Tom Atkins, I want you
to meet some new friends - Sean Smith, Arthur Temple, and Albert Boscone.
They're the ones who got me to the hospital.'

 `I'm glad to meet you,' Tom said, shaking hands. `Do you, by any chance,
drive a blue station wagon with two colors of primer on the front?'

 Shocked, B.A. nodded.

 `What about it?' he asked, worried.

 `There's an APB out for it, so you'd better keep it hidden,' Atkins told
him. `Knowing these guys, they'd throw you guys in jail on some trumped-up
charge, then quietly get rid of you.'

 `And just how would you know that?' Hannibal asked warily. 

 `Because I'm a sergeant in the police department,' Tom smiled. `But don't
worry. I was a policeman long before Torby became mayor and brought his
sharks in to ruin this town, and I don't like what's happening any more
than the rest of the good people here tonight.'

 `Well, I'm glad to hear that, Tom,' Hannibal said, relaxing. 

 `By the way, Brett,' Tom continued, `the car used in the attack was found
abandoned several miles out of town. Seems it was stolen a few days
before, and the guy who owns it lives in Fairplay. Ironic, isn't it?'

 `Brett!' called a dark-haired man as he approached.

 `Good to see you, Clive,' Wallace answered. `Thanks for coming!'

 `Look, Brett,' Clive said. `I pulled your car outta that ditch. It's
gonna take some work, but I think I can have it back to you in about a
week. Is that okay? I can give you a loaner in the meantime, if you'd
like.'

 `Thanks, that'll help a lot. Sam needs the other car to get to her job as
post-mistress, so it'd be hard getting along with only one.' 

 A tall, distinguished-looking man finally called the meeting to order.
When everyone was seated, he began to speak.

 `Thank you all for coming tonight,' he said. `I know we're all taking a
huge risk just being here, but it's worth it to stop what's happening to
our town. Many of you know me, but for those of you who don't,' he
gestured to the newcomers among them, `I'm Dr. Owen Spence. I work in the
emergency room at the hospital, and I'm tired of patching up my neighbors
because they stand up for what's right. It's time to put an end to this,
and if what Brett says is true, we may just have the means to finally do
it.'

 Brett rose to stand next to the doctor.

 `Friends, as many of you know, there was another attempt on my life a
couple days ago. Thanks to my new friends Sean, Arthur, and Albert, I'm
here to tell about it.' A murmur ran through the meeting. `Like you, I
grew up here, and I've seen the changes Mayor Torby and Chief Reed have
made, and none of them are good for our town. So I'm looking for ideas on
how to stop them once and for all.'

 Tom rose in his seat.

 `There are a couple of guys on the force that I can still trust. One of
them has Torby and Reed convinced he's just as dirty as they are, so I
have a good inside line on what's happening. According to my informant,
Torby and Reed had a private meeting the other day, and they're going to
back off for now. However, he also says they expect their main opposition
- meaning Brett here - to be eliminated very soon. "By the end of the
month" is how the Chief put it, so I'm told.'

 `Hmmmmm...' Hannibal mused aloud. `Sounds like they're trying to lull you
into a false sense of security, Brett. Once you drop your guard, they
expect to close in for the kill - literally. And they don't have much time
to do it. It's only a few days until the end of the month. Anything
happening between now and then?'

 `Only the Memorial Day parade,' piped up Harris Scott. His eyes widened
in horror as a thought occurred to him. `They wouldn't dare!'

 `These guys are gittin' desperate,' B.A. said gruffly, `and when they
desperate, they do things without thinkin' `em through, right,
Han...Sean?'

 `Right, Albert.' Hannibal got to his feet. `Tell me about this parade.'

 `Well,' said Harris, `the parade route goes from local high school, down
Main Street to bandstand in the local park.'

 `What kind of units will be marching?'

 `Oh, the usual - scouts, VFW, high school marching band, cheerleaders,
homecoming queen, that sort of thing. Local businesses will be
represented, of course. In fact, the Daily Herald's gonna have a float
depicting the history of newspapers in America. And Brett's supposed to
dress up as Ben Franklin.'

 At the mention of a parade float, alarm bells started going off in Face's
mind.

 `Y'know, Hannibal, it occurs to me that all they have to do is hide a guy
on the roof of a building along the way, ostensibly as crowd control? Who
looks up, right? '

 `What my colleague says is true. Most people don't bother to look up.
They think that most danger is on the ground.

 "How do you know this?" Brett asked.

 `He was a sniper in `Nam,' Hannibal glanced over at Face, `and a very
good one, too.'

 `You're kidding!' came a disbelieving voice from the crowd. After all,
the young blonde couldn't be more than a teen.

 `No, unfortunately, I'm not,' Hannibal replied. `These sleaze-balls are
getting antsy, and they'll do anything to get their way. It'll be our job
to put a stop to it.'

 `In the meantime, we need to start gathering evidence. Now,' said Brett,
`we all know at least one person who's been intimidated by these slugs.
Contractors who have been coerced into not bidding on projects, or
withdrawing their bids in favor of a crony whose bid in actually higher,
our kids bullied in attempts to get at us, that sort of thing. Talk to
your friends, anyone you can think of. Sam's willing to notarize and
collect any affidavit brought to her at the post office. It shouldn't
raise suspicion, since everyone needs stamps, right?' he concluded with a
grin.

 There was a wise nodding of heads among those assembled. 

 As the meeting broke up, Hannibal pulled his men aside.

 `Face,' he said quietly, `we need to know the lay of the land. You're our
expert, so it's up to you.'

 `I'll take of it first thing tomorrow.'

 *****

 Face wandered up and down the street, ostensibly window-shopping. Using
the shop windows as mirrors, he checked out the various rooftops
overlooking the parade route. Satisfied, he joined Hannibal and B.A. at
the local diner.

 Once they had ordered, Hannibal looked at Face.

 `Report,' he said quietly.

 `I walked the entire route, Uncle Sean. The first leg runs from the high
school past the junior high and elementary schools. Its wide open, with
only a few young trees, not enough to provide cover for an attack. The
second leg runs through a residential area built in the mid-50's. More
trees, but the houses are fairly closely set, so it would be too easy to
be spotted. The problem area is once the parade turns onto Main Street on
its way to the park. Several Victorian-era stone buildings that provide
plenty of hiding places. I would say that the bank building across the
street from the park entrance is the most likely place for them to try
anything.'

 Tom Atkins arrived just in time to hear the last part of Face's report.

 `Hey, ain't it dangerous for you to be seen wit' us?' asked B.A.

 `Nah,' Tom smiled. `Torby already knows how I feel, so it wouldn't be a
surprise for me to be seen with Brett. Chief Reed doesn't know anything
about you lot, so I don't think we'll raise any suspicions being seen
together. But you were saying?'

 `I was about to say that there are only three of us,' Hannibal said.
`That's not enough to cover the whole parade route.'

 `I've got an idea, Colonel,' said Face, all business.

 `Colonel?' Brett asked. `Are you still in the military?'

 `No, it`s just habit.' Hannibal grinned. `We were in the same unit in
Viet Nam. Arthur was my XO, and Albert, my sergeant and ordnance officer.
We made a pretty good team, so we decided to stick together when we left
the service, and we've done pretty well for ourselves so far. Go ahead,
kid.'

 `Well, as we know, Brett's supposed to be on the paper's float,' the
young man began. `You look enough like him to take his place without
raising suspicion.

 `Since we can't cover all the possible sites, even with Tom's help, we'll
have to draw them out. It'll be a classic diversionary tactic, Colonel,
like the Scarlet Pimpernel in the books,' Face told them. `You draw
attention by impersonating Brett on the float, while B.A. and I head out
of town with the Wallaces during the uproar.'

 `I like it, kid,' Hannibal replied, his eyes lighting up with the Jazz.
He could see that he and Brett were of roughly the same build and
coloring. Though Brett had shoulder-length, reddish-blond hair, and his
nose was thinner, the Colonel knew his training in amateur theatricals in
high school and West Point would be of some service in that respect.

 `But you'll be in danger,' Brett protested. `If they have a sniper along
the route, as you think they will, you'll be killed. I'm sorry, but I
won't have that on my conscience.'

 `It'll be okay, Brett,' the police sergeant reassured him. `I'll sneak a
bullet-proof vest out of the police station a few days before, and get it
to you. I know the Chief, and he'll want to take care of this personally.
He's a champion hunter, and prides himself on his heart shots. You should
have no trouble convincing him you're dead.

 `I also happen to know the guy who installed the security cameras on all
the buildings along the route. I'll have a word with him. He's with us,
and I'm sure he can redirect all the cameras to cover any potential sniper
positions. If it comes down, we'll have video proof of the murder
attempt.'

 Hannibal nodded. 

 `The best location would be that bank near the entrance to the park,'
Face continued. `That doesn't mean they couldn't work from another spot,
but the bank's the most logical one.'

 `The ambulance is usually last in the parade,' said Tom, `so it won't be
too far behind the float. I'll make sure Mack and Jimmy are on duty that
day. They should be able to get you away quickly, before anyone twigs to
what's happening.'

 `And Harris can let you out the back door to the morgue,' said Brett.
`I'll leave the loaner car there for you, with the keys in the glove box.'

 `That would leave either your wife's car or ours to get you and your
family out of town,' pointed out Hannibal. `Both are known to the police.
If either one is spotted leaving town, they could come down on you hard.'

 `I'll speak to Clive about repainting your car,' said Brett.

 `Hey, we ain't got the money for that, man,' B.A. told him.

 `Don't worry about it,' Brett smiled. `If he doesn't do it for free -
which he probably will, if I know him - then I'll take care of it. And
don't look at me like that,' he added, seeing the look on Hannibal's face.
`You're putting your life on the line for me. It's little enough to do in
return.'

 `Hey, Hannibal, I was thinkin' of gittin' that done as soon as we could
afford it. That car do stick out like a sore thumb.'

 `All right,' Hannibal agreed, `do it.'

 `Might I suggest black, Colonel?' asked Face. `It's a nice low-key color,
and will go unnoticed when everyone's attention is focused on the float.'

 `Good idea, Face,' Hannibal said. 

 `Face? Hannibal?' Brett asked. `I thought your names were...'

 `They are,' Hannibal laughed. `But we were tagged with these nicknames
during the war. We've become so used to them, it's just second nature by
now.'

 `I see,' Brett said thoughtfully. 

 `Well, I've got to get back to the station,' Tom said. `I'll see you all
later.' So saying, he left the diner, allowing the others to finish their
lunch.

 *****

 `Hey, Stevie!'

 Sitting under a tree at recess, Steven Wallace looked up from the book he
was reading. In front of him stood a boy about two years older and
twenty-five pounds heavier, backed by several other boys of similar age
and size. Steven groaned to himself; he could tell that Frank Reed was
just itching for a fight.

 `Whattsa matter, Stevie? ` Frank continued in a condescending tone. `Too
scared to be out playin' dodge-ball with the big kids? That why you're
over here reading like a little sissy?'

 Steven tried to ignore the bully, but it was hard when the book was
snatched out of his hand.

 `Hey, give that back!' Steven yelled, scrambling to his feet. `It's from
the library!'

 `Too bad, Stevie,' the older boy taunted. Grinning ferally, he began to
tear it apart.

 `Stop that!' 

 Steven tried hard to get the book back, but Frank was too quick. Shoving
the younger boy to the ground, he pulled the pages out and threw them
around before tossing the cover aside. When he was done, he grabbed Steven
by the shirt and hauled him to his feet.

 `Whaddya gonna do about that, sissy?' he snarled, landing a punch in the
younger boy's stomach. `You gonna tell on me? Huh?!'

 Steven suffered the beating in silence, knowing that the teachers
wouldn't be able to see through the ring of boys surrounding him and
Frank. He knew instinctively, too, that it would only be worse if he
called for help.

 Finally, the blows stopped, and Frank let go of him, so that he dropped
to the ground.

 `Just try to get back at me, sissy,' the bully snarled. `Just try. If you
think that was bad, that's just a taste of what you'll get if you tell. As
for your dad, if he keeps making trouble for my father, my dad'll take of
him.' With that, he gathered his friends and left the younger boy kneeling
in the grass.

 Sniffing back tears of pain, Steven got to his feet, tucked in his
shirt-tails, and brushed himself off before collecting the remnants of the
library book. He slowly made his way back to the classroom, trying hard to
disguise the limp the beating had caused.

 ***

 `What?!'

 Samantha Wallace couldn't believe what the elementary school secretary
had just told her over the phone. Her son was in the principal's office
for refusing to say who beat him up.

 `I'll be right over. Thanks.' She sighed as she hung up the phone.
`Carol? Cover for me, will you? I've got to pick up Steven at school.'

 `Sure thing!' The assistant postmistress nodded, and went back to
organizing the outgoing mail.

 ***

 Hannibal, Face, and B.A. were studying a map spread out on the dining
room table when they heard a car pull into the driveway of the Wallace
residence. Instantly alert, they spread out, checking all sides of the
house in case the new arrivals were intruders.

 `It's okay, guys!' Hannibal called, recognizing the car as Samantha's. 

 When the front door opened, however, they weren't prepared for the sight
of Becca running upstairs in tears, and Steven with a black eye and bloody
nose.

 Samantha stood there, unsure which child to comfort.

 `You go to Becca, li'l mama,' B.A. said gently. `I'll take care of
Steven.' Nodding, Sam headed upstairs after her daughter as B.A. knelt
next to the young boy. `Tell me what happened, li'l brother.'

 Steven sniffed, looking long and hard into the caring brown eyes.

 `It was Frankie Reed,' he said at last, knowing that he could trust these
men. `He beat me up, called me a sissy `cause I like to read. He said he'd
do it again if I told. He threatened my dad!' he sobbed at last.

 Hannibal turned at the sound of a gasp to see a haunted look in his
lover's eyes. Placing a hand of Face's shoulder, he felt the younger man's
body vibrating like a piano string. A fist closed around his heart. It was
a clue that spoke volumes about the past his lover refused to reveal, and
helpless anger flooded him.

 `You all right, Tem?' he whispered. The responding nod didn't satisfy
him, and he made a silent vow to do his best to make up for the abuse his
lover had undoubtedly suffered throughout his young life.

 B.A. stood up and extended a hand to Steven.

 `You and me gonna take a walk, li'l brother. See if maybe we can do
somethin' about this...'

 ***

 At 3:00, the school bell rang, announcing the end of classes for the day.
Kids poured out the doors, eager to get home.

 As Frank Reed and his hangers-on left, pushing their way through the
younger kids, they saw Steven Wallace standing on the asphalt walk to the
playground. 

 `Hey, Frankie!' the boy called pointedly. The older boy's eyes narrowed
dangerously when he heard that.

 `What'd you call me?' he asked dangerously.

 `I called you "Frankie",' Steven replied ingenuously.

 `I'll fix you, sissy,' Frank snarled, `and I don't care who sees me!' 

 He raised a fist to hit Steven again, but found it caught in a tight
grip. He turned, looking up, to see a large black man scowling at him.

 `What you doin', man?' B.A. growled. `Ain't no call to be hittin' kids
smaller'n you.' Frank's eyes widened in shock, and B.A. let go. `Now that
you know what it feels like, remember what I tol' you.' With a curt nod,
he turned to Steven. `Let's go, li'l brother.'

 Frank stood there for a few moments, feeling the eyes of his friends on
him. He had to do something to salvage his reputation. 

 `Oh, yeah?!' he yelled, his voice shaking, as B.A. and Steven walked
away. `Well, you don't scare me!'

 B.A. just squeezed Steven's shoulder, and they shared a conspiratorial
smile . *****

 Two Days Later

 Face watched B.A. as he left the tent to take first watch. Slowly, he
turned to Hannibal.

 `John,' he asked, `how can you be so calm?'

 `Because I trust you,' Hannibal replied. Face just shook his head.

 Hannibal sat beside the younger man and pulled him close.

 `What's the matter, baby?' he asked quietly.

 `I'm scared, John,' the blond confessed. He looked up, blue-grey eyes
searching ice-blue ones. `I don't want to lose you.'

 Hannibal wanted to laugh, but he knew it would just distress the younger
man. If Face only knew the number of times he had felt the same way. All
the times that he had sent him out on point, all the times in the camps.
No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to forget the fear and
dread that he had always felt. The only thing that he could do now was try
and put Face's mind at ease. 

 `You're a great strategist, Tem,' he said reassuringly. `You proved that
to me time and again in `Nam. It's a great plan, and with the bullet-proof
vest Tom got me, I'll be perfectly safe.'

 `But a thousand little things could go wrong,' Face insisted. `What if he
doesn't go for a chest shot? What if he is using a high caliber weapon
that goes through the vest? Damn it, John, so many things can go wrong,
and now I'm putting your life at risk.'

 `And if I didn't believe your plan would work, I wouldn't go along with
it.'

 `I just can't shake the feeling that this is our last night together,
John,' came the soft whisper. `I...without you...'

 `I know, baby,' Hannibal told him, kissing the top of his head, `but I
promise you it will be a piece of cake. Trust me.' Face nodded. He still
wasn't sure, but allowed Hannibal to ease him back onto the cot. `Now, go
to sleep, Lieutenant. We have a busy day tomorrow.'

 Face sighed and closed his eyes, placing his trust in his lover's
confidence. It wasn't long before the feel of Hannibal carding his fingers
through his hair lulled him to sleep

 **********

 Act III

 On the day of the parade, B.A. drove everyone to the high school where
the marchers were lining up. He pulled into the garage where the
newspaper's float had been assembled.

 `We're still putting the final touches on the printing-press mock-up,'
Clive said. It was his tow-truck that would be pulling the float. He
glanced at the guy sitting at the desk on the float, looking like a
reporter out of The Front Page. The other float attendants were dressed
like newsboys, ready to hawk copies of the newspaper to the crowd.

 `Good,' said Brett, looking around. He noted that everyone in the garage
was his supporter. `That gives us time to make our other arrangements.'

 `B.A.,' Hannibal said, `keep watch outside. Let us know if anyone suspect
gets too close.'

 `You got it, Colonel.' With that, he stepped outdoors.

 As Hannibal started changing into knee breeches, hose, shirt, waistcoat,
and leather apron, Face pulled out a short brown wig.

 `Here,' he said, handing it to Brett, `put this on. If Hannibal's posing
as you, you can't leave here looking like yourself.'

 Brett nodded, and, with Samantha's help, put it on, tucking his reddish
hair neatly out of sight.

 `Did you bring the make-up?' Hannibal asked, smiling as Samantha handed
over whatever she'd scrounged from her personal collection. Sitting Brett
down under the best light he could find, he set about minimizing the
differences in their appearance. Finally, after making himself look as
much like his host as possible, he donned the bald-head wig with the
shoulder-length grey hair, and glasses with rectangular lenses.

 `I can barely tell the difference between you!' Samantha gasped. `Where'd
you learn to do that?'

 Hannibal grinned.

 `I did a lot of plays in high school,' he told her. `Before I enrolled at
West Point, it was a toss-up whether I'd go there, or try my luck in
Hollywood.'

 Just then, B.A. poked his head through the side door.

 `They starting' to line up, Hannibal!' he called. `You `bout ready to
go?'

 `Just about, Sergeant!' He turned to the others. `Brett, you'd better
leave now. Face and B.A. will guide you safely out of town to the hideout.
I'll join you there as soon as I can.'

 Brett nodded, and shepherded his family back to the repainted Chevy
Malibu, letting the kids clamber in the back with the Team's gear.

 As they did, Hannibal beckoned to B.A. and Face.

 `Good luck, Sergeant,' he said, shaking the black man's hand firmly. `I
don't anticipate any trouble, but you never know. Stay alert. If you have
to, get the hell out of Dodge, and I'll tag up with you in L.A.. Is that
clear?'

 `Yes, sir,' B.A. said. `Ain't no one gonna catch us, either way.'

 `I can believe that,' Hannibal grinned, thinking back to all the times
he's watched the other man's driving practice. `Face?'

 `Hannibal?'

 `You're in charge, kid. Whatever happens, keep them safe. That's an
order, Lieutenant,' he said firmly.

 `Yes, sir!' Face returned.

 `And Tem?' Hannibal said softly.

 `John?' the younger man answered, just as softly.

 `Always remember - I love you.' Face nodded, the gentle hand on his
shoulder speaking volumes. `Now, get going, all of you.' Face snapped off
a quick salute, much to Hannibal's amusement.

 Samantha and the children waved as the car left the garage. 

 `Have a good time, Brett,' she called loudly, as Hannibal waved back.
`See you after the parade!' With that, B.A. steered the car off the
campus, ostensibly headed for the reviewing stand near the end of the
parade route.

 As the float crew waited to be guided to their place in the line-up,
Hannibal wandered around the garage, looking at all the junk dumped
haphazardly here and there.

 `There's sure a lot of miscellaneous stuff in here, `he commented to no
one in particular, stopping next to a huge, empty fish tank.

 `Yup,' said Clive. `Anything they don't know what to do with, they stick
in here for lack of a better place. That fish tank, for instance, used to
be in the main lobby of the high school. I guess they got tired of
replacing the fish every time the heater malfunctioned.'

 Poking around in the accessories, Hannibal found a length of clear
plastic tubing from the aerator. His eyes lit up with the Jazz as he
looked around for other potentially useful stuff, finding a bulb syringe,
a mat knife, and a roll of duct tape in pretty short order.

 `You know what I could really use right now,' he said to one of the float
attendants, `is a hot dog with lots of ketchup...'

 *****

 Sam Katz looked at the bank of television monitors, watching as the
scenes before him swept back and forth. He looked up at the person
standing behind him.

 `That was a good idea you had, Tom,' he said, `using the excuse of
routine maintenance to re-set these cameras. The recorders are all
running, so if anything happens, we'll get it on tape.'

 Atkins nodded, his fingers absently drumming on the walkie-talkie he
held. 

 `I just hope the whole thing works out as planned.'

 `Here we go,' Katz muttered, tapping on one screen as a shadowy figure
let itself onto to the roof of the building Face had picked as the most
likely ambush site.

 *****

 Matthew Reed crouched on the roof of the bank building near the park.
Normally, he enjoyed a good parade, but today he was bored with the
gymnasts, school bands, and other marching units. He was also getting
anxious, wishing for the hundredth time that Wallace's float wasn't so
near the end of the parade. 

 Finally, the float in question turned the corner onto Main Street,
inching its way forward as each unit paused in front of the reviewing
stand inside the park. Slowly, it came within range.

 Reed raised the rifle to his shoulder. He knew he had to aim very
carefully. He wasn't using a scope, not wanting to risk a flash of
sunlight on the lens giving him away.

 Closer...closer...

 His finger tightened on the trigger...

 *****

 Face sat in the newly-painted car, in the seat his lover usually
occupied. As they waited, he could sense the tension in B.A., who was
behind the wheel. Samantha hushed the children when they started getting
fidgety.

 Above the muffled sounds of the parade, a shot rang out, and he jumped.

 `John!' he whispered, his eyes full of worry. Unthinking, he reached for
the door handle, only to be stopped by B.A.'s hand on his arm. 

 `I have to know, B.A.' Face tried to pull on the handle, but B.A.
tightened his grip. 

 One look told him the Sergeant was just as worried.

 `You have to trust him, Face, just like he trusts you.' Face closed his
eyes and nodded.

 As yells and screams started, the walkie-talkie in his hand came to life.
Tom's voice crackled over the speaker.

 `Go!' it said calmly.

 B.A. put the car in gear, and slowly drove out of town, in the direction
of Reed's hunting lodge.

 *****

 Under the horrified gaze of spectators, Mack and Jimmy gently manhandled
the limp body onto a stretcher, then slid it into the back of the
ambulance. Once it was loaded, Mack climbed into the back, while Jimmy
returned to the driver`s seat. Sirens blaring, they maneuvered through the
crowd to the nearest cross-street, then raced for the hospital.

 Mack was shaken. He hadn't expected blood to be plastering down the grey
wig near the base of the victim's skull. Quickly, he broke out gauze pads
to staunch the flow, but as he leaned closer, a puzzled frown crossed his
face.

 `Hey, Jimmy!' he called.

 `What is it?'

 `Ummmmm...this blood?'

 `Yeah? What about it?'

 `It smells kinda funny.'

 `Huh?!'

 `Maybe,' said an unexpected voice, `that's because it's not blood...'

 *****

 The emergency room doors crashed open, and the gurney run through at top
speed.

 `Doc!'

 Owen Spence turned to see Mack and Jimmy. He beckoned Mandy over as he
did a cursory exam of the body on the gurney, then shook his head as he
draped the sheet over the victim's face.

 `Take him to Harris,' he told the nurse solemnly. `It's too late. There's
nothing we can do.'

 *****

 Mandy smiled at Harris Scott as she left the morgue, but assumed a more
professional demeanor as she headed for the elevator.

 Once the door was closed behind her, Harris turned to the gurney and
raised the sheet.

 A pair of ice-blue eyes shone above a wide grin, and Hannibal sat up,
already dressed in a police uniform.

 Harris pulled a police windbreaker and hat out of a file cabinet and
handed them to Hannibal.

 `The car's just outside the door. Brett left the keys in the glove box,
as arranged, along with directions to the safe house. After you leave,
I'll call Marie at the radio station.'

 `Thanks, Harris,' the Colonel said. `You've been a big help.'

 `Just get going,' Harris said, opening the door to the underground
parking lot. `I can't wait `til we nail Torby and his friends.'

 With a smile and a wave, Hannibal got into the car, found the keys, and
headed out for the rendezvous.

 *****

 Marie hung up the phone and smiled. Taking a few deep breaths to compose
herself, she reached out and flipped the switch for her microphone,
cutting off the song that was playing.

 `We interrupt this program to bring you an important news bulletin...'

 **********

 Act IV

 In the hunting lodge's well-appointed living room, the Wallace family and
their guardians were gathered around the radio, eager for news. They
hadn't listened to the car radio, concentrating their attention on getting
away from town.

 `Repeating an earlier report,' Marie's voice floated into the room,
`Brett Wallace, reporter for the Daily Herald newspaper, has been shot
while riding the paper's float in the Memorial Day parade. Unconfirmed
reports mention a bullet wound to the head. More news as it becomes
available.'

 Samantha gasped in horror, and Brett pulled her close, while Steven
looked stricken, and little Becca wore a puzzled frown, wondering why
everyone was so upset. 

 A strangled sob escaped Face's throat.

 `You'll be okay, li'l brother.' B.A. murmured, putting a hand on his
shoulder.

 Face looked at him with dead eyes. It scared the bigger man.

 `He's gone, B.A.,' he whispered flatly. `There's no way Hannibal could
have survived a bullet to the head. He's...gone...and I'm alone...'

 `No! Never alone, Faceman,' the Sergeant insisted. `You still got me and
the Fool. C'mon, man; Hannibal wouldn't want you to give up.'

 `I'll finish the mission, B.A.,' he said, `but after that...' He let the
sentence hang.

 B.A.'s heart stopped in his chest. He knew what Face meant. It was hard
enough loving the young man and not being able to tell him, but to lose
him altogether...

 `Don't do it, Face,' he whispered urgently. `Don't give Lynch the
satisfaction.'

 `To hell with Lynch, and everyone else. I don't have anything to prove to
anyone.'

 Face turned his back and walked over to stare out the window.

 Brett approached B.A.

 `Will Arthur be all right?' he asked, concerned.

 `I hope so,' the black Sergeant said. `Man, I hope so! Face - Hannibal
meant more to him than anyone else on earth. He never really knew his
parents, and was raised in a orphanage,' he added, falling back on their
cover story. `Didn't even know he had family `til he got to `Nam, got
assigned to our unit, and found out Sean was his uncle. Hannibal was the
only father he ever knew. It was Hannibal taught him how to be a man, and
now he's gone.'

 `I see,' Brett said thoughtfully. `I'm sorry. It's my fault. I should
never have let Sean do it.'

 `Naw, man, you couldn'ta stopped him if you tried,' B.A. assured the
reporter. `When Hannibal's on the Jazz, ain't no stopping him for
nothing.'

 `Well, I still feel obligated,' Brett told him. `Once everything settles
down, I'll make all the necessary arrangements. And you'll both be welcome
to stay with us as long as you like. We've all grown quite fond of you,
especially the kids.' So saying, he drifted back to his family.

 Moments later, the sound of tires on gravel had Face and B.A. instantly
on alert, their grief forgotten. Gesturing towards the entrance, Face
moved smoothly to the window, while B.A. took up a position next to the
door.

 Peering out, Face saw a figure in a police uniform climb the front steps
and reach out to ring the cow bell that hung from the porch roof. As the
bell sounded, Face crossed to a spot behind the door, and took hold of the
knob. 

 Nodding, he pulled the door open, while B.A. yanked the stranger in
through the door and slammed him up against the wall, shoving his pistol
into the man's face.

 `Hi, guys!!'

 B.A. couldn't believe what he was seeing. The ice-blue eyes and
infectious grin of the newcomer were unmistakable.

 Face turned ash-white.

 `John?' he whispered in disbelief.

 `In the flesh, kid!' Hannibal responded cheerfully. B.A. let him go as he
turned and walked into the room, pulling off the police hat and
windbreaker as he went. 

 `When they were getting the float ready,' he continued, `I found some
clear plastic tubing and a rubber bulb syringe. I got the idea to fill the
bulb with ketchup, and ran the tubing up my sleeve. Clive taped the end
just under the hairline of the wig, so when I felt the bullet hit the
vest, all I had to do was squeeze the bulb as I fell over. Mack and Jimmy
got me into the ambulance before anyone could get a good look, and Marie
interrupted the radio coverage of the parade with the announcement that
Brett Wallace had been murdered by a bullet to the head. Reed will just
believe that his shot went a little wide of the mark. Piece o' cake!' He
spread his arms dramatically, and sat on the arm of the couch.

 Face stared at his lover, and his mouth opened and closed several times.

 `John...I...I...'

 Unable to get the words out, he stormed out of the house. Hannibal
watched him go, stunned. He felt B.A. lay a hand on his shoulder.

 `What the hell is wrong with Face?'

 He felt B.A. lay a hand on his shoulder. 

 `Fool, they announced that you were shot in the head over the radio. The
plan was for you to be shot in the chest. We all thought you was dead.'

 `Jesus!' Hannibal ran his hand over his face, realizing what he had put
his lover through.

 `Go after him, man,' the gruff Sergeant said gently. `He hurting bad.'

 Hannibal nodded, and followed his young lover's trail into the woods.

 ***

 Face hadn't gone far, just down to the brook, out of sight of the cabin.
Hannibal watched him for a few minutes, as he sat with his back against a
tree, pitching pebbles into the water, tears streaming down his face. The
tears he hadn't been able to shed in front of strangers. He refused to
look up, even when Hannibal approached and sat down next to him.

 `I'm sorry, Tem,' Hannibal said contritely. `I didn't mean to hurt you.
If I'd come up with the idea in time, I would have let you know, and
avoided all this. But by the time I'd thought of it, you were already
gone, and there was no way to get in touch with you.'

 `You're the only one who's ever loved me for who I am, John,' Face said
softly, his voice breaking, `and I thought I'd lost you forever. Then you
come back from the dead, and joke about it!'

 `I was wrong to do that, baby,' Hannibal said, pulling the younger man
closer. He should have realized that Face's heart was a fragile thing, and
the shaking body he held in his arms told him he'd screwed up badly. `I
should have known you'd be listening to the radio, and that you'd be
grieving. Please forgive me, baby.'

 Face started to shove Hannibal away, but the older man held him even
tighter so Face cried out his pain into his lover's shoulder. 

 `Don't you ever do that to me again, John! I can't go through that
again!'

 `Never, Tem; never,' Hannibal promised, rubbing his lover's back,
soothing him.

 *****

 When Hannibal and Face returned to the lodge, both were calm and ready to
get down to business.

 `Everythin' okay, Colonel?' B.A. inquired softly. Hannibal just nodded.

 `Sean,' Brett said, `while you were out, Sam Katz called. They caught the
chief on tape right where Arthur said he'd be. Tom's got it now.'

 `Great!' Hannibal said. `Now, where are those papers you collected?'

 `Right here,' the reporter told him, holding up a briefcase. Hannibal
took it, his eyes shining.

 `Time to beard the lion in his den,' he announced. `Brett, call Tom and
tell him to meet us at the mayor's office. Stay here until you hear from
us.'

 `All right, Sean. We'll be waiting for your call.' 

 Hannibal turned to his men.

 `Ready, guys?

 *****

 In the conference room at City Hall, Deputy Christopher Murray watched as
Mayor Torby uncorked yet another bottle of champagne. He took note of all
the bankers, investors, and other would-be parasites waiting to suck his
hometown dry. 

 `Well,' said Torby with a smile, `this is certainly a Memorial Day to
remember.'

 `Yeah,' said one of the bankers. `Now you can run the town the way you
want to, without interference from that goodie-two-shoes reporter, or
anyone else.'

 `Aren't you worried about some sort of backlash when they found out who
the trigger-man was?' asked a second.

 `Nah,' said Reed. `I don't care who knows it. We've got `em cowed, and no
one'll dare to go against us now.'

 No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the door crashed open and
three men armed with semi-automatic weapons burst in. Quickly, they
scattered to strategic points in the room. The leader let loose a volley
towards the ceiling, grabbing everyone's attention.

 `I hate to burst your bubble, pal,' announced Hannibal. `You may have
some of the people of this town scared, but we're a whole other kettle of
fish.'

 `W...Wallace?!' Torby stuttered.

 `Sorry, Mayor,' Hannibal smirked, `I'm not Brett, though I was on the
float today. Like Mark Twain, the report of our death has been greatly
exaggerated. Now, everyone back up against the wall!'

 `Murray!' yelled Reed, `arrest these clowns! Charge `em with weapons
possession, endangering public safety, and anything else you can think
of!'

 `Sorry, Chief,' Murray said, pulling out several sets of handcuffs. `You
picked the wrong errand boy. But it'll sure give me pleasure to put you
behind bars in your own jail.'

 `Hey, listen, guys,' said the deputy mayor. `Let us go, and we'll make it
worth your while. I mean c'mon, there's plenty here for everyone.'

 `Sleaze-balls never learn, do they, Hannibal?' asked Face.

 `No, they sure don't,' the older man replied. `Tom?! Bring `em on in!'

 Tom Atkins entered the room, accompanied by Brett Wallace and Judge
Hargrove. Several more deputies followed, and promptly joined Murray in
securing the room.

 `Well, do you believe me now, Judge?' Brett asked.

 Hargrove just shook his head. 

 `I guess I owe you an apology, Brett,' the judge replied. `You hear about
this sort of thing in the big cities. I guess I just couldn't believe it
could happen in a small town like ours.'

 `Well, here's the proof in black and white,' said Atkins, handing over
the briefcase Brett had given Hannibal. `Inside you'll also find a
videotape taken this afternoon, showing Chief Reed here on the roof of the
bank, trying to murder Brett during the parade.' Reed groaned when he
heard that. Tom crossed to where Murray was putting handcuffs on his
former boss. `Y'know, Chief, I was always dead-set against your little
reign of terror. But when you threatened my family - well, that just made
me all the more determined to see you brought down. Have a great time in
jail!' With that, he turned his back and walked away. `Murray! Get them
out of here!'

 Murray lost no time escorting the blustering mayor and his cronies out of
the room and into the waiting squad cars.

 `Tom,' said Hargrove, `I'm appointing you Acting Chief of Police. Of
course, with the mayor and deputy mayor both under indictment, it looks
like I'm going to have to call a special election to replace them.' He
looked at Brett. `I wouldn't be surprised if you were elected, should you
decide to run for the office.'

 Brett looked out the window at the police cars pulling out, headed for
the jail.

 `You know,' he said, `I just might do that!'

 **********

 Epilogue

 A black Chevy Malibu pulled up outside the local post office, and three
men got out.

 `You sure `bout this, Colonel?' B.A. asked. Hannibal nodded.

 `Your mother deserves to hear, Sergeant,' he said. `It's been a while
since I wrote to Elizabeth, but I'm sure they've stayed in touch, knowing
my sister. So let's see if Samantha can help us.'

 They were just entering the lobby when an olive-drab sedan pulled up.
Immediately, they headed in different directions as a young man in an MP's
uniform stepped inside and headed for the counter.

 Samantha turned from where she was talking with Brett.

 `Can I help you?' she asked as the young man reached into the large
manila envelope he was carrying.

 `Yes, ma'am,' he said as Hannibal sneaked a glance in his direction.
`We're delivering these to all post offices. Normally we mail them, but
there's a Colonel Lynch who wants these delivered personally, to make sure
they arrive.' With that, he handed her a large poster folded in quarters.

 Samantha took it, her curiosity peaked. Unfolding it, she shared it with
her husband and assistant. She prayed that the surprise she felt didn't
show on her face.

 `All right, Corporal,' she said, noticing the stripes on his sleeve.
`I'll care of this.'

 `Thank you, ma'am,' the young man said, then turned to leave.

 As he got into his car and turned the key, Hannibal and his men sauntered
over to the counter, filled with trepidation. They could see the way their
hosts were studying the poster.

 After an awkward silence, Samantha spoke.

 `I don't know what this is all about, but I judge a person by his
actions, not by what someone tells me about him. As far as my family and I
are concerned, we have no cause to question our trust in you. Without your
help, I'd be a widow, my children would have no father, and our town would
still be in the grip of corrupt politicians lining their own pockets with
our money. I can't thank you enough.' 

 With that, she tore up the poster and threw it in the trash.

 `Suffice it to say,' Hannibal said as his men breathed a sigh of relief,
`that what we did, we did under orders. Now, the government has turned its
back on us, but we hope to rectify that situation some day. In the
meantime, we do what we can to uphold what we believe in, and make an
honest living for ourselves. Thank you for believing in us.'

 `No sweat!' Brett told them pointing to the trash bin. `We never saw
those guys!' His laughter broke the tension. `Oh, by the way, we took up a
collection at the paper, and some people chipped in around town. It's not
much but hopefully it will get you down the road a little ways." Brett
held out an envelope to Hannibal. `And the remaining members of the town
board voted to call in an independent auditor to go over the books. So you
could be looking at a sizable reward after all the legal wrangling makes
its way through the courts.'

 `Thank you.' Hannibal took the envelope and slid it into his jacket
pocket without even looking at it. `But now,' he said, motioning B.A.
forward, `we have a favor to ask of you. Albert wants to mail a letter,
but it can't go there directly. Is there any way we can, say, send it the
scenic route?

 `Hand it over,' Samantha said with a smile, thinking of the friends she'd
made at a recent Postmasters Convention. `I just may have a way.'

 `Uh, Hannibal,' Face reminded him, `don't you think we should get going?'

 `Sure, Face.' Turning to the Wallaces, he held out his hand. `He's right.
It's time we were moving on. But I have to say that it's been an honor
working with someone who stands up for what he believes in, and doesn't
back down when things get rough.'

 Brett pulled Samantha close as he reached to shake hands with the men
who'd saved his town.

 `You just take care of yourselves, y'hear?' he said. `We'll never forget
you.'

 ***

 `Did you see that poster?' Face whined as he got into the back seat of
the Malibu. `That wasn't even a decent picture of me!'

 B.A. giggled as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the road
that led out of town.

 `Now, Face,' Hannibal chided with a grin, `you know the authorities
always choose the worst photos to use on their "Wanted" posters. You
should be grateful. It'll work in our favor.'

 `I know, Hannibal,' Face sighed. `But it's still disgusting to think that
that's the image of me that'll be plastered all over the country.'

 `Speakin' o' which, man,' B.A. said, `that means Lynch is startin' to
play hardball.'

 `Well, guys, I guess this means it's time to head north again,' Hannibal
said. `At least it'll be a lot warmer than Minnesota.'

 Face was about to agree when he looked down the road.

 `Uh-oh!' he murmured.

 Up ahead was the military sedan that had been at the post office.

 ***

 Corporal McDermott slowed somewhat as a black Chevy station wagon passed
him on the left. A puzzled frown crossed his face as three hands waved to
him out their respective windows. Putting it down to the friendliness of
the locals, he waved back as the car disappeared in the distance.

 END  
   Please post a comment on this story.