"Good," says Storm. "I was starting to think we were in the middle of a reunion here."

"Even without seeing her in action," says Shu, "if she's hanging with Guido, she's probably a top-notch professional. I sure shouldn't want to go up against her."

"Which brings us back to our original point," says Hy. "Now that we've know that the Swatter and friends are in the game, do we stick around or head for the hills?"

"But you can't leave!" Red Blade says. "You agreed to help us!"

"We agreed to sit in on this conclave, mostly because it sounded like a good way for a couple of soldiers on leave to meet some girls," Hy says. "I don't remember agreeing to lock horns with acouple heavyweight widow-makers. That's not a party. That's suicide."

"Boys, boys," Storm says, holding up her hands. "Nothing's changed just because there are a couple extra hitters wandering around. Remember the whole idea of this plan is that we don't directly go up against anybody. They're looking for whoever is hassling the tax collectors, and that isn't us. Now let's have a couple drinks and talk about this calmly."

"Drinks are good," Bee says. "Okay. Who's having what?"

"Same as the last time," Shu says, glancing at his brother.

"Blood! Blood and raw meat!" says the elf from his corner.

"I told you before, they don't serve that stuff here," Hy growls. "Where did you find this guy, anyway, Storm?"

"Ordered him from the Complete Elfquest Catalog," Storm says. "Cut him some slack. He doesn't come cheap."

"I still want to know where you're going to find a dwarf," says PeeWee. "Right now, I'm the shortest one in the whole crew."

There was a tactful moment of silence from the rest of the fellowship.

"And, of course, another Volcano," Bee says wearily. Truth to tell, that was the reason they were using the Tiki Lounge as their base of operation. Despite extensive research and inquiries, the only volcano they had been able to find in the entire kingdom of Possiltum, even with its expanded borders, was the specialty drink that was served here during Happy Hour.

They waited for their drinks to arrive; then, with great ceremony and solemnity unwrapped their prized ring, complete with severed finger, and dropped it into the flaming drink.

Nothing happened. Again.

Just like nothing had happened the last dozen times they tried it.

Also, like the last dozen times, no one was interested in actually drinking the Volcano after the ring and finger were reclaimed.

After bein' briefed by Sergeant Smiley and maybe havin' a couple more drinks for old times' sake, we holed up for a war council to decide what our next move should be. Two hours later, we was still councilin'. If you deduces from this that things was not goin' smoothly, you would be absolutely correct.

"And I'm sayin' that our mission is finished and we should report back to the Royal Palace," I sez, gettin' a bit testy.

We had been havin' this argument since about five sentences into the meetin', with neither side givin' ground. This is, in itself, sayin' somethin', as I was holdin' down one side of the argument by myself, while Spyder and Pookie were united against me.

"We're supposed to be scouting out potential centers of rebellion," Pookie sez. "Until we've looked into it first hand, all we have is rumor. We could have done that back sitting on our butts back at the palace."

"We've had an in-depth briefin' from the Army types who have been experiencin' it all first-hand," I sez. "In their opinion, there is no organized rebellion. Just a couple small groups rippin' off the tax collectors. Now we have to report that back to the Boss and see what he thinks we should do next. Whatever else he is, Skeeve is still my Boss both in M.Y.T.H. Inc. and in the Mob. One thing I've learned over the years is the secret to a long and prosperous career, not to mention an extended lifespan, is to not get carried away with independent action by tryin' to second-guess what the Boss wants you to do."

"But we aren't taking independent action," Pookie sez. "We're just going to scout out the situation, which is what he told us to do in the first place."

"Hang on, Pookie," Spyder sez, steppin' between us. "Talk to me, Swatter. What's really bothering you?"

"Like I've been sayin'. The Boss ..."

"I know what you've been saying," Spyder interrupts. "I also know you. Back in Basic, you pretty much ran the Bug Squad right under the nose of the Drill Instructor. When we got assigned to garrison duty and then the supply depot, you were still running things, and doing an excellent job of it. I know you can operate independently without playing 'mother-may-I' waiting for specific orders. So how come all of a sudden you're dragging your feet? There's got to be more to it than the chain of command. Heck, this whole expedition was your idea. So tell us what's eating you and quit trying to hide behind procedures."

The trouble was, she was dead-on right. I don't mind stretchin' the facts or obscurin' the truth a bit in front of a jury or even, occasionally, my colleagues, but I hate gettin' caught at it.

I rubbed my jaw while I thought things through, then decided to come clean.

"Okay, I'll admit it," I sez. "I'm pretty good when it comes to the rough and tumble stuff, but I'm a specialist.

Nearly all of the work I've done has been in cities and towns workin' against other individuals or gangs that are tryin' to avoid public attention. That's the kind of work I do. That's the kind of work I've trained for. The idea of wanderin' around the woods tryin' to run down opposition of an undisclosed number and strength that know the territory like we don't and aren't adverse to shootin' from hidin' leaves me cold. In that situation, we'll be as much out of our depth as the country bumpkins are when they come into the big city."

"What you're trying to say is that you're scared," Spyder sez.

I start to draw myself up to my considerable height, then just give a little shrug instead.

"Okay. If that's what you want to think, I'm scared," I sez. "That doesn't change the circumstantials of the situation."

"Pull in your claws, Spyder dear," Pookie sez, comin' to my defense. "Guido isn't scared; he's being a professional. Unlike some of the wannabe toughs you may have encountered in the past, Guido is the genuine article. He is tough, so he doesn't have to work at trying to prove it ... even when provoked."

Now I knew that, but it was nice to hear Pookie say the things I was naturally too modest to point out myself. "You see, there's a difference between being scared and acknowledging a potentially dangerous situation," Pookie continues. "Guido has raised a valid point here. We're potentially walking into a fight where the enemy has all the cards. It's worth thinking through before we commit ourselves."

"If the Boss says to do it, I'll do it," I sez with a shrug. "It won't be the first time I've walked into bad odds with my eyes open. But I still say if there's a good chance of us gettin' whacked, we should pass along what we've found out so far first, so's the next crew doesn't have to start from scratch."

Spyder kinda sags a bit like somebody let the air out of her. All of a sudden, instead of lookin' like a junior tough, she looks like a little kid that's been told she can't go to the party.

"So we report back to the palace," she says in a flat tone. "The wizard gets his information and there's no more need for my services as a Royal Investigator. Sorry if I was pushing it there for a while, Guido. It's just that I've been having so much fun, I guess I wanted to try to prolong it a little."