Author's Note: I am sorry for the ridiculous wait for this one. I hope that this chapter is worth it.


1320 Hours, December 7, 2542

Sefton System, Tarsus, Township Paradiso

"What happened?" Avery's voice carried over the wind, his hand on the winch. "Where are the others?"

Linda rolled off the crate and made her way to the older man's position, then closed the hangar doors. When the air finally quieted the large woman leaned forward and braced herself against the wall, breathing deeply.

"What happened?" Avery tried again. Though he kept his tone polite, his voice carried the telltale strain of a man not accustomed to asking twice for anything.

"Complications," Linda grunted, pushing off the wall and taking a step toward the fore staircase. The second she put weight on her left leg, however, the knee nearly buckled beneath her. She clumsily regained her balance and tried again, but this time the only thing that kept her from falling to the ground was the shoulder Avery quickly shoved under one of her arms.

"What kind of complications?" the man grunted under the sudden weight.

Linda hissed in pain as she limped forward. "The kind that wears ridiculous red armor and likes to shoot decent folk in the leg," she grumbled.

"Who got shot? Where is everybody else?" Miranda puffed from the walkway above, face flushed from the exertion of running from the cockpit to the cargo bay.

Seemingly sensing the commotion, Cortana appeared from the infirmary with her little sister following close behind. Cortana looked Linda over until she saw the plasma burn on her lower leg, then stepped back into the infirmary and returned with a medkit.

"Lay down," she ordered as she came to Linda's side. She turned to Avery and added, "Help her. We need to keep weight off that leg until I can assess the damage."

Linda sneered and tried to shrug their hands off of herself. "I'll be fine," she growled.

"You'll do as your told or you'll lose the leg," Cortana cut her off, glaring.

A tense moment of silence passed through the hold, the two women appraising one another sternly. Finally Linda relented, and Johnson helped her lay down while Cortana kept her injured left leg aloft.

While the doctor took out several pieces of equipment and began scanning her injury, Linda beckoned everyone in close with an impatient wave of her hand. "Get over here, I'm only explaining this once," she grunted. "There was a full squad of Covenant onboard the train. It got hot, and I had to leave the others behind."

"Are they alright?" Miranda almost shouted.

"Last I saw," Linda said, clenching her teeth when Cortana sprayed something cool against the charred flesh of her leg. "You keyed those coordinates into the Nav just like I told you?"

Miranda nodded slowly, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"Good. Then the plan remains the same – we're to wait for them at the rendezvous point. They'll get there soon enough, and then we'll all ride off to meet with the buyer."

Avery's brow furrowed. "And if they," he hesitated, his eyes darting to the startled young woman who was still nodding at the foot of the stairs, "get held up for some reason? Your buyer doesn't exactly strike me to be the patient type."

Linda glanced at Miranda as well. The girl tended to worry, but she was tough as nails. "If anything happens to them, we deal with it."

"If they are delayed," Cortana said, looking up from where she was working on Linda's leg, "I might have a method to get them out of there."

"What kind of method?" Linda asked, eyeing the doctor warily.

Cortana smiled timidly and said with a slight chuckle, "An unconventional one. But you'd have to trust me."

Linda said nothing as she considered the possibility. Silence fell over the hold once more.

"They're coming," a quiet voice whispered. Linda glanced around to see Joy studying the symbols along the side of the crate.

"Yes," Cortana answered hesitantly, "of course they're coming. And we'll wait where we are until they get back."

"No, they're coming," Joy said frantically, looking around the room with wide eyes. "They're coming and they won't stop. They won't stop until they get what they lost." Tears welled in her wide eyes and she dropped to her knees, cradling her head in her hands. "Section Three will set you free," she whispered," Section Three will set you free. Section Three will set you free."

She continued babbling, rocking back and forth.

"Doctor," Linda said slowly, "what is she talking about?"

"I have no idea," Cortana replied, concern etched into her face.

"Get her out of here. Worry about my leg later."

Cortana flew to her feet, gently pulling the young girl back toward their bunks. All the while, Joy pulled at her hair and chanted.

"Section Three will set you free, Section Three will set you free, Section Three will set you free!"

Her voice finally quieted after they left the hold, and Linda exchanged a glance with Avery. "Whatever John's doing, he better make it quick," she said gruffly. "I didn't sign on for this."


"What is going on here?" Fred hissed through clenched teeth. "They collected everybody's passes and papers near an hour ago - where's the podunk lawman to send us on our way?"

"How's about we all take a moment of quiet reflection to ourselves," John whispered back. "Doesn't do anybody a lick of good if we get ourselves worked up now and get caught."

He looked at his crewmates warily. Kelly, ever the bundle of nerves, was bobbing her head in time with some song in her head, her eyes darting almost manically around the cramped sheriff's station. Fred – only slightly more composed – was spinning a closed folding knife in his hand so quickly that John worried it might fly away if the man were to lose his grip on it.

His crew were good at most things. Warfare, espionage, heists, planning, mechanics . . . if you could name it, Serenity's crew had an expert on it. Unfortunately for them all, the only true expert they had on being patient was still aboard the ship.

At the very least, those two weren't the only ones growing impatient. Packed into the compact sheriff's department with the three dozen other passengers that disembarked the train, the room buzzed with quiet conversation, interspersed by frequent fits of loud coughing. They'd all been sequestered away for some time now, and everyone was getting restless.

"Speak of the devil," Kelly said, borrowing one of Fred's outdated phrases, "look who's making their way over now."

John feigned a stretch in order to take Paradiso's young sheriff in through his peripheries. The man was making slow progress through the compartment, pausing to speak with every small clump of passengers he passed. "Stick to our stories," he said, eyeing Fred warily. "No improvising."

Fred spread his hands wide in a who, me? gesture, but the crud-eating grin on his face was more than enough evidence that he knew exactly to whom John was speaking. The expression dropped from Fred's face as he turned to face Kelly. "No matter what happens here," he said seriously, "I want you to remember that I love you."

The woman blanched, staring back at him. "Fred?" she asked, hesitatingly.

"What?" he responded casually, turning his attention back to the sheriff. "You're my wife."

"Of course," Kelly said, enough blood rushing back to her face John couldn't help but notice the tinge of pink that accompanied it. "I love you too, Wilf."

John tried not to let himself grin. Kelly was notorious for her dry wit and deadpan delivery, and it was somewhat gratifying to see her slack-jawed and speechless for once. Unfortunately, there was no time to savor the moment.

The sheriff paused at their little trio and tipped the wide brim of his hat amicably. "Good afternoon," he said with a practiced smile, thrusting his right hand out toward them, "Sheriff Tom Lasky."

John took the proffered hand and shook it firmly. "Pleasure to meet you, Sheriff. This here is my cousin Olivia and the moon-eyed boy beside her is Wilf. My name's Malcolm, but folks tend to call me Mal," he said, gesturing to each person as he introduced them.

"Well, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Lasky said, pulling a miniature datapad from his belt and consulting it for a moment. "According to your records, you all came all the way from Arcadia, and then bought a one-way ticket to Paradiso. Planning on sticking around for a while?"

John nodded, curious just what else it said about them on the lawman's datapad. "Yes sir," he said, still bobbing his head gently. "You see my idiot best friend just married my cousin, and as a wedding gift her old man paid for passage off the planet. I put enough money together to tag along with them, and we picked the first place that anyone from home knew something about."

Lasky smiled over his datapad at him, though there was something different in his eyes. A glint, like he was thinking about something. The kind of thought that usually got John in trouble at times like this. "Well, I'll tell you," the sheriff said, sliding the miniature pad back into its holster and stuffing his thumbs behind the belt buckle on his waist, "I've never heard of a hometown in such dire straits that Paradiso could be considered a better alternative."

John raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side. "That so?" he asked amiably, though his mind was beginning to race. "Well I guess you've never made the trip out to Piedra Negra."

Lasky shook his head and opened his mouth to say something else.

"Is there something wrong?" John cut in before he had the chance to. "I can't imagine that keeping everyone locked up inside the sheriff's office is part of the welcome process for the town."

Again the sheriff shook his head, this time accompanying the movement with a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid so," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "There was an important shipment supposed to come in on your train. It seems that someone came in and snatched it, leaving us to figure out where it's gone."

"Well," John said with a toothy smile, "I seem to recall a few dozen fine young Covenant agents who ought to be helping with the search." Though his sarcasm was clear in his sentence, he still fought back the full measure of his contempt. Seeing his own kind parading around in that ridiculous Covenant armor was almost enough to make a man sick.

"You certainly did, but their sergeant – or whatever they're called in that backward rank structure – disagreed. Determined that he needed to get all of his recruits on back to the spaceport immediately for training. But don't you worry, we'll have you back on your way in no time at all."

"Will it be much longer?" Fred asked, rising to his feet along with Kelly, "We've been here a mighty long time now, and Liv and me were sort of hoping to get a little more private time before getting settled into life here."

While Kelly giggled and played the part of the blushing bride, Lasky shot them a friendly grin and nodded once. "We'll get you on your way as soon as we can," he promised. "Unfortunately, we're operating with just our own manpower here."

Yet another loud fit of coughing burst through the packed room.

"You seem to have a lot of sick around here," he commented casually. "I hope it isn't contagious."

Wrong thing to say. That glint passed into Lasky's eyes once more. "You weren't told?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. When no one answered, he exhaled tiredly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Boren's," he said with a telling tone of finality. "They say it comes from the mines, breathing in all that dust. But all it takes is one look around this place to know there's something else going on here. Heck, my wife Chyler's never stepped foot in a mine and even she came up with it."

John shuddered. Boren's was a terrible fate for anyone. It started out with a dry cough, though that was just the calling card of the degeneration of the lungs going on within. Soon the bleeding started, and things only got worse from there. It was a slow, painful death for anyone afflicted with it.

"Boren's is treatable though, isn't it?" Kelly asked.

Lasky nodded. "It is," he began, "if you have the right medication."

The statement hung in the air as if unfinished, and John's stomach felt his stomach drop. "And that's what was stolen," he supplied.

The sheriff gave a wry grin. "Got it in one," he said, looking John up and down warily. "You know, for someone so observant, I have to say I'm a little surprised you hadn't heard about our little problem here before."

"It really is a shame," called out a haughty, refined voice – the kind of voice that wasn't often heard in Paradiso – called out from behind him, "that someone so clearly gifted could turn out to be such a fool."

Curious, the sheriff turned to take in this new member of the conversation. John didn't need to see the figure silhouetted in the doorway to recognize the voice. He looked at her all the same, if only to shoot her a withering glare.

"Can I help you ma'am?" the sheriff asked, leaving the trio behind to deal with the newcomer.

"No, but I believe I can help you," the voice continued as its owner stepped far enough into the room to reveal the face of one very fugitive doctor. "You see," she said, raising one hand to point at John and the others, "you have some criminals in your midst. I think it would be in all of our best interests if I helped you to rid yourself of them."

John's stomach turned to stone. His heart felt like it was beating in slow motion. His hand itched for the pistol not in its customary place at his hip. Was she really going to turn them in now, after all they'd risked for her and her sister?

The sheriff's hand rested lightly on the grip of his pistol. "What crime are these folks guilty of, exactly?" he asked.

John ground his teeth. In the corner of his eye he could see his crew's posture turn defensive. In the center of the sheriff's department, though, they were outnumbered and outgunned – bad odds, even for former soldiers as skilled as they.

He held his left hand slightly away from his body where Fred and Kelly could see it and closed his fist.

Wait.

Cortana sauntered toward them, her eyes laser-focused on John. Lasky turned and followed her when she thundered past him without a word and posted, ready to draw his weapon, when she walked right up to John.

"What are you –" John got out, but he was cut off when her open hand connected to his jaw with a sharp crack.

"Did you think we wouldn't notice?" she asked, fuming. "After everything my family has done for you, this is how you repay us?" She raised her hand again.

Luckily, her second strike was forestalled by the sheriff grabbing her wrist and holding it. "Ma'am, I'm afraid that before I allow you to abuse this fellow any more I'm going to need some explanation," he drawled.

Cortana huffed and straightened her extravagant blouse. "Of course. My apologies, sheriff." She turned her body just enough for Lasky to enter her line of sight without looking directly at him, then thrust a finger in John's face. "This man," she almost spat, "is an indentured servant to my family. The family who saved him, I would add."

She finally turned to address the sheriff directly. "We are here on business for my father in Palo Alto. This morning I realized that Malcolm here had fled, and dragged his poor cousins along with him."

"Cousins plural?" Lasky sputtered, his cool composure finally cracking as he looked back and forth between Fred and Kelly.

Cortana sighed dramatically. "Yes, unfortunately," she bemoaned in her exaggerated socialite accent. "Alas, poor Olivia and Wilf are, indeed, relations. They're very suggestible, which is why we work so hard to keep track of them."

John had to fight back a smirk as he saw his teammates' faces turn a deep scarlet.

"Well this information is . . . certainly something," Lasky said, running his hands over his face. "I'll need proper documentation to back up your claims, though."

Before the sheriff had even finished making his request, a quartet of data crystals was thrust in his face. It took only a moment for the man to run them through his datapad and return them to Cortana.

"Everything checks out," Lasky remarked, a shudder rolling across his shoulders as he looked at Fred and Kelly again. "It's just as well, really. We've run into some crime of our own here, and your man's story had a bit of an odor to it."

Cortana turned to John and wrinkled her nose. "Most of him does, really," she huffed, the twinkle in her eyes betraying how much fun she was having at her companions' collected expense.

The sheriff thrust his thumbs behind his belt buckle and looked John up and down once more. "I'm afraid I don't have any deputies to escort you back to Palo Alto, ma'am," he said. "You might consider sticking around for a bit, until we can get our affairs cleared up."

"There will be no need," Cortana plowed through the man's suggestion. "My shuttle is quite near here, and my pilot is well armed. If you would be so kind as to release my people, we will be on our way."

Lasky, with the patience of a saint, conceded. "You're free to go," he declared, adding with a glance at Fred and Kelly, "Just try to keep those two back there in line."

Cortana nodded primly and turned on her heel, leaving the others no choice but to follow her out. John managed to hold his tongue, playing the part of the chastised manservant.

Until the moment the shuttle doors sealed behind them.

"What were you thinking?" John growled, rounding on the doctor. "You could have blown this whole thing!"

Cortana appeared entirely unimpressed by his outburst. "I was thinking that if somebody didn't get you out of there, your broker's patience would eventually run out. I don't want to be around when that happens."

John fumed, towering over the woman in the cramped shuttle. Cortana, for her part, didn't back down an inch. She glared up into his eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

"How exactly did that work?" Fred asked, watching from the sidelines with a bemused grin. "The sheriff was suspicious of our papers – what did you hand him that was so believable?"

Cortana didn't turn away from her defiant staring contest with John. "Back when I had the funding from my parents' estate, I commissioned a few sets of dummy identification templates. Anyone with basic computer access could use them to create an foolproof identity for themselves."

Kelly, sitting in the pilot's chair of the shuttle, let out a low whistle. "Those might come in handy," she muttered as she piloted the small vessel away from Paradiso.

"I'm afraid they won't," Cortana answered. She moved even closer to John, her glare only deepening with each step she took. "I used the last of my 'get out of jail free' cards on this stunt."

She was very close to John now. Close enough for him to grab her and throw her out the rear hatch of the shuttle, if he were a less cultured fellow. Also close enough for him to notice that her gray eyes took on a fascinating electric blue shade when she was angry.

"I hate to break up whatever type of flirtation this is supposed to be, but it sounds to me like a thank you might be in order," Fred joked, an awkward smile evident in his voice.

John turned his glare on his teammate for a moment, but had to concede the point. Sliceable identifications – particularly good ones – weren't cheap. Cortana had made a sizable sacrifice to get them out of their jam.

"Thanks," he growled, then turned away. He sat in one of the bucket seats next to Fred and tried not to hope that the doctor would forgive his earlier outburst. Luckily for him, it was a short trip.

Serenity was situated in the small depression between two sandy hills in the desert between Paradiso an the spaceport town of Palo Alto. She blended into the desert sound surprisingly well, despite her size. The shuttle touched down with a series of metallic thuds reverberating through the hull.

By the time the door opened, Miranda was already waiting for them. "It worked!" she called out happily, throwing her arms around John's midsection. "We had a bet going about how many of you were actually going to make it back." She pulled back and looked up at him with wide eyes. "And we might actually be able to pay those bets with all the money we're making from this job."

John separated from the hug and stepped around her. "Start warming her up," he called to the mechanic over his shoulder, "I want her in the air in an hour."

"We are making money off this job, aren't we?" he heard Miranda ask as the others started filing out of the shuttle. "Somebody tell me we're making money."

"I doubt it, kiddo," Fred answered nonchalantly.

"Hold on a moment," John heard Cortana shout from behind him. "All that and we aren't even making any money?"

John ignored her, making his way to the cargo bay. Once on the ground floor, he pushed the goose and its trailer out into the center of the bay. With an unspoken understanding, Fred and Kelly wordlessly began loading the crates onto the goose's small trailer.

"Where are we taking the goods, cap?" Linda asked from the gangway up above, most likely drawn by Cortana's outburst.

"Giving it back," he grunted, hitting the switch to lower the outer hatch and open the airlock. "Can't keep this stuff."

Cortana, who had by now joined them on the lower level of the bay, held out a hand. "Are you sure we shouldn't reconsider this?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," rumbled a voice from outside the ship, "it would be in your best interest to reconsider."

A massive figure lumbered into view, appearing like a phantom from the dark night. John vaguely recognized it as one of the brute aides that had been aboard Escharum's ship – specifically, the one that shot the beaten former "associate" of the crime lord.

"I don't remember inviting you aboard my ship," John said evenly, his hand straying to the grip of his M6D.

The brute shook his head, a Spiker already in its massive paw. "I was to wait for you at the rendezvous point. When you didn't arrive, I must say I grew somewhat concerned."

"Well that's downright sweet of you," John fired back. "We ran into a couple of roadblocks, but everything's peachy now. Thanks for checking in. Why don't you run along now, and we'll conclude our business at the intended location."

The huge furry creature's face seemed to split in two, a row of massive, pointed teeth appearing in the otherwise dark brown hair. "So inhospitable," he snarled with a shake of his head, "even after we traveled all this way . . ."

At the word we a half dozen figures emerged from the darkness behind the brute. Two elites, three grunts, and even a human male – each armed with Covenant weapons and looking as though they aimed to use them. They quietly filed into Serenity's cargo bay.

"Perhaps you and I can finish our deal now, so as to avoid any further complication," the brute jeered.

John spread his arms out to either side and let out an impressed whistle. "All this muscle, just for us?" he asked, glancing around at his crew. Fred was half-concealed behind some crates to his right, a throwing knife in hand. Kelly was on his other side, her hand hovering above the pistol on her hip. Above him on the catwalk, Linda feigned apathy toward the confrontation, though John knew from experience that the sniper was already lining up the order she would take her shots to pick off the offending crew. The doctor had tucked herself beneath the aft stairs, which meant that she at the very least had the sense not to make a liability of herself in a firefight.

Satisfied with his observation, John shrugged as sympathetically as he could manage and said, "There's been a snag. I'm afraid we aren't going to be able to deliver the package to your boss."

The words had no sooner left his mouth than a spiker was aimed at his forehead. "You are thinking of going back on your commitment to Escharum?" the brute literally growled, spit dripping from its large fangs. "That is not a mistake you would live to regret."

John raised his hands to eye level. "Now hold on there just a minute, friend," he said warningly. "You have a right to be upset, but threatening my crew is a move I have to advise you against. You might not like the outcome."

"I would say the same to you," the brute spat, "but you deserve no such courtesy. All you have earned is a thief's grave!" He pulled the trigger.

John threw himself to the ground, barely avoiding the eponymous spikes of the brute's weapon. Around him, chaos erupted in the hold. Fred's knife appeared in the chest of Escharum's human agent, and the man slumped to the ground without a sound. One of the grunts became so excited that it fired before it even had a target, accidentally striking one of the elites in the back of the head. The excitable grunt and the other elite were immediately downed by crisscrossing fire from Kelly and Linda, and the final grunt threw its weapon on the ground and its hands in the air in surrender.

John, for his part, was completely occupied with attempting to dodge the massive swipes from the brute's impressively muscled arms. The pair were too close for their firearms to be very effective, and so John evaded as well as he could. To outmaneuver a particularly close call the man dove forward in a somersault, landing behind the brute in the center of the cargo bay.

"Put your gun down, and let's talk about this like gentlemen," he called out.

The brute seemed to take offense at the suggestion, firing again and once again forcing John to dive for cover.

"I could use some help over here!" he shouted to his crewmates, jumping again to avoid yet another burst of spiker rounds aimed at his head.

He received no response from his team. Instead, he heard the sound of the goose's engine roaring to life. John looked back at the brute just in time to see the fuzzy creature crumple to the ground and get rolled beneath the ATV's tires as Fred gripped tightly to the handlebar, riding out the roller coaster.

Before the brute had time to recover it's faculties, John leaped forward and kicked the spiker out of its large hand and put his M6D against the creature's forehead. "Doc, get the kid out of here now," he called over his shoulder. "This fellow and I are about to have a conversation that impressionable eyes probably shouldn't ought to see."

Cortana didn't answer, but he heard her scramble out of the cargo bay and caught the faint whisper as the infirmary's automatic doors swished shut behind her.

John turned all of his attention back to the dazed brute. "This all would have been so much easier if you'd just listened," he grunted, staring into the dripping hatred in his new captive's eyes. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm returning that Escharum gave us. Unfortunately, we're not going to be able to deliver our end of the bargain, so the deal is off. You bring him back the credits, and everyone can go home with a warm and fuzzy feeling in their heart. How's that sound?"

The beast struggled into a sitting position and snarled, baring as many of its teeth as it could. "You may keep the money, you coward. But know this – one does not cross Escharum and live to tell the tail. I will personally hunt you across this galaxy until every last one of you is dead. You will live the rest of your days in utter fear of me, and of the retaliation I bring with me. My name is Crurroheus – memorize it, for it shall be the last word your wretched mouth ever offers to the 'verse."

John sighed tiredly. "If that's how you want to play it," he said. He then fired point blank into the brute's forehead.

While Crurroheus crumpled almost in slow motion to the ground, John shifted his focus to the other survivor. "Here's what we're going to do," he began, but a terrified squeak from the grunt cut him off.

"Me understand already," the diminutive creature babbled. "A-okay. Warm and fuzzy feelings." Though shackled, the long-limbed creature offered what was almost a thumb's-up.

Without further ado, the grunt was unshackled, given the money, and sent trundling on its way.

John sighed, looking down at the body of Crurroheus. "That was all you had to say," he said. He then turned to Kelly. "Let's roll this thing out of my ship before it starts stinking. We've still got work to do tonight."


The night was pitch black when they left Serenity. Linda accompanied him, eager for any chance to stretch her legs after being penned on the ship for so long. They made their way down a long dirt trail toward Paradiso in the dark, listening to the wind whistle past their ears.

About thirty klicks from town they stopped, pulling the goose to one side of the road and shutting down its engine.

"We'll bury the crate here," John said, stepping down from the ATV. "Nothing too deep, but let's make sure no wanderers can off with it. Soon as you and I are back aboard Serenity we call it in and let the good townsfolk of Paradiso get back their goods."

"You forgot the kissing cousins," a voice called out from the dark night. "What's the matter, aren't they any good with a shovel?"

John whipped around, M6D in hand.

Sheriff Tom Lasky stepped into the dim illumination afforded by the goose's headlights, thumbs in his belt and posture awfully relaxed for a man on the business end of a gun. "I wouldn't pull that trigger if I were you," the lawman warned. He then raised his left thumb and pointer finger to his lips and whistled loudly. More than a dozen people stepped out from the surrounding sage, their rifles trained on John and Linda.

Slowly, John holstered his pistol.

"Good man," Lasky smirked. He then half-turned to one of his deputies. "Palmer, check it out."

A tall woman with a pistol on each hip brusquely stepped past John and opened one of the crates. She spent a few moments scanning the contents, then nodded at Lasky. "It's all here," she said.

"Unload it," John said loudly. "We don't aim to fight you for it."

A long moment stretched between the lawman and the thief. Finally, Lasky gestured with a nod and his men started unloading the crates from the goose's trailer.

"I don't blame you for taking on the job," the sheriff said after a while, staring intently at the medical supplies in his men's arms. "A man's got to do what he can to take care of his." The sheriff heaved a heavy sigh, gesturing with one arm to his posse. "Of course, it's often not until after the work's over that you get the full picture. That you can take in a situation like ours. Way I see it, that's when you have the real choice to make."

John looked around at the sheriff's crew. Half of them were barely containing their coughing, and a few were already outwardly showing signs of the horrors that Boren's wreaked on a human body. He then turned to Lasky, whose own wife was suffering from the disease. "Respectfully, sheriff, I disagree," John answered. "I don't believe we had but one choice."

Lasky smiled and nodded once. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "you and I might have gotten along well in another life." Then, without another word, he walked back into the dark, his deputies dragging the heavy crates behind.

John waited for the posse to disappear back into the dark before slinging himself back into place behind his partner without a word.

"You're getting soft," Linda teased, activating the goose. She then gunned the engine, leaving any response John may have had hanging in Paradiso's cool night breeze.