The three of them listened to the sirens of the approaching fire engines.
"What now, Shawnee?" Brognola asked.
"Same old stuff. Regroup the Savannah Swingsaw."
"But Demoines is dead."
"They'll just send somebody else. As long as there's profit, the Mob will be there. The trick is to take away the profit. That's what the Swingsaw intends to do."
"Or take away the Mob," Bolan said.
"That's not our way, Mack. That's another thing I learned being with you. As hard as I try, I can't be like you. So I've got to do what's right for me."
Bolan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her tight.
"But you'll be hearing from us," she said to both men. "Just read your newspapers. You'll be reading about the Savannah Swingsaw again."
Brognola groaned. "I was afraid of that. Just as Savannah Swingsaw long as it's not in the same article as Mack Bolan. That combination is enough to make the South rise again."
"Stranger things have happened," Shawnee said, smiling.
Brognola started walking away. "I guess you kids don't need me around anymore. Have to get back to Washington before they notice I'm gone and move my desk out into the hallway."
Bolan watched his friend stroll across the parking lot, a spring in his step. He heard whistling. Bolan called after him. "I guess that desk will be a lot easier to handle after tonight."
"For a while," he answered. "For a while."
They headed for the car Brognola had rented for them. Inside was an envelope with five thousand dollars and a note.
"Take a vacation. And please, don't tell me where."
Bolan started up the car.
"Where are we going?" Shawnee asked.
"I don't know yet. You mind?"
"No. I kind of like it."
They pulled out into the street, heading west.
"You know, Mack, there's always room for you with us."
"Us?"
"Savannah Swingsaw."
He smiled. "As leader?"
"No way," she bristled, then laughed. "Coleader. You and me."
Bolan remembered Stony Man Farm, Able Team, Phoenix Force. The dream gone bad.
"I don't play team sports any longer."
She nodded, scooted closer to him. "Then how about some one-on-one?"
Bolan reached over and patted her knee. She'd forgotten to give Hal his jacket back. The thought of settling down with Shawnee was tempting. She was tough and self-reliant, with a way of looking at right and wrong he admired. But it wasn't to be. Not yet anyway. For now, they were heading west in a legal car with five thousand dollars in cash and nobody in particular hunting them. And that would have to do. For now.