Contrary to popular belief, one did not simply stumble into the field of bounty hunting. It was no guild sanctioned run business, but it was fraught with guidelines and thorough training. The occupation ate more recruits than competent bounty hunters it produced.

And for Junsu, who had known nothing else his entire life, bounty hunting was everything.

It was a tricky business, though. It was the kind of business that tripped many up, and more often than any of them in the business would admit, once in a while one of their own would fall prey to the cardinal rules they lived by.

Before every mission, before every acquisition, and before every turnover, Junsu repeated them to himself, so as not to forget them.

He’d say firmly, “I am my creed and my creed is me. I am without emotion. I am without compromise. I am without hesitation, and I am without heart.”

Feelings. They were the real problem. Left unchecked, they always got in the way. They could take the best bounty hunter and turn him into a traitor. If for one second anyone in their line of work let their feelings get involved, the entire cause was lost. It wasn’t for them to know what their chase had done to deserve the bounty. It didn’t matter the context or circumstances. And it was none of their business what happened after the chase was over and the bounty was delivered.

Junsu was living proof of the unrelenting rule.

In the most unromantic story his mother had ever told him, over a bottle of gin no less, Junsu’s father had been a bounty, and his mother had been doing the chasing. It had only taken one brutally passionate night for him to be conceived, but his mother had still delivered his father to the Alliance the next day, where he’d been put to death immediately. She had no regrets and Junsu tried not to have any either. It was merely the nature of their work.

But it would be a lie to say that Junsu didn’t prefer some bounties over others. Taking on Kim Jaejoong’s bounty was a pleasure, in all actuality.

Upon first glance it read as a simple kidnapping. The house servant, with another twenty years on his contract and a history of behavioral issues according to the issuer of the bounty, had up and run, taking Jaejoong with him as his hostage. Finding either of them would bring in a substantial amount of credits, but in this instance, Junsu was simply happy to play the part of the hero for a moment.

However something was unusual from the beginning.

Finding video footage of Jaejoong and the alleged kidnapper, Yoochun, had all been too easy. There’d been no attempt to hide their movements, no matter how frantic they appeared to be, and more than once Jaejoong looked to be in the lead.

Footage followed them to the space yard and through it, and Junsu was able to watch, albeit without any audio, as the two bartered their way onto a ship. The ship was easy to identify, along with the coordinates it logged shortly after that.

What bothered Junsu the most was how little Jaejoong looked like a hostage. There was true panic on his face, and fear beneath it, but nothing that said the emotions were directed towards the man who kept steady at his side the entire time. And then there was the suitcase. How many kidnappers let their victims pack before abduction? Not to mention it had been a focus of Junsu’s how easily Jaejoong charged up the ship’s ramp, Yoochun following after him.

No matter what Jaejoong’s father claimed, this was obviously not a case of kidnapping. Jaejoong had gone willingly.

“Take this one on your own,” his mother had said, busy working through a lead on her own case.

It would have been pointless to try and tell her what he thought of his case.

It would have been even more pointless to care.

The creed decreed it didn’t matter if he was kidnapped or not. It stated it didn’t matter if Jaejoong himself had orchestrated the entire event. It only mattered that the bounty was out, Jaejoong’s father was paying an obscene amount of credits for his return, and there was a job to be done.

Context didn’t matter. Reason didn’t matter. Only the bounty mattered.

Getting a faster transport than the Tohoshinki had been a chore, one that left Junsu paying more for his trip than he thought was barely above robbery, but he was able to arrive at the Moon Hub just before Jaejoong. It was likely he was planning to hop another transport, though the motivation behind it all seemed a bit confusing. Most individuals with bounties out on them went further from the Core, and not towards it.

Laying in wait had proved fruitful. He’d had a front row seat for the Tohoshinki’s landing, and fulfilling the bounty contract was so close Junsu could taste it the moment Jaejoong and Yoochun came into sight.

It was almost as if they were playing directly into his hand, choosing the Moon Hub as a destination. No one would look twice about their disappearance, and none would try to stop Junsu from taking them.

He wasn’t even sure, until the moment right before he made his move, that he’d take the both of them. Yoochun was property. He needed to be returned to the holder of his contract. But Jaejoong occupied the larger bounty reward. Yoochun would be worth letting go, and tracking at a later date, if he compromised Junsu’s ability to recover Jaejoong.

Yoochun didn’t look like he’d put up much of a fight, and Jaejoong certainly wouldn’t, but there was no telling for sure.

Before he could consider either option, there was fighting in the streets. With keen eyes Junsu watched as chaos reared up over the overcrowded streets, destroying any chance Junsu had to take Jaejoong quietly.

But this was even better.

And he’d decided. Yoochun could wait.

It would have been a perfect snatch, clean, quick and without incident, if only the Captain hadn’t been there. Jung Yunho.

“Avoid him,” his mother had said, the one and only time she’d looked over his shoulder while he’d been replaying surveillance from the space port. “He’s trouble. The kind we don’t want.”

Junsu had openly scoffed. “Him?” A quick background check had produced mediocre results. Jung Yunho. Twenty-six years old. He was currently the registered owner of a Mako class cargo ship, but previous work history included menial work, but also space mining. It was true he was taller than average, and maybe more bulky, but there was nothing intimidating about him in the least. Anyone could look menacing. Junsu was.

“Trust me,” his mother had said with a shrug. “That’s a man who’ll burn the world for the right price.”

He hadn’t paid much attention to his mother’s words at the time, but they’d suddenly become all too clear the moment he’d watched the Captain thread himself through the crowds as the riot grew in intensity. His determination and ferocity had set him apart.

And the way he’d grabbed Junsu’s target had been all too telling.

Jaejoong was something to him. This wasn’t a simple case of one person taking care for another. No. This was a man personally invested somehow in another.

Observing the Captain for only a second more made it absolutely clear to Junsu that this Captain was the rarest breed of men. And Junsu’s mother had been absolutely right. Captain Yunho would burn the world for the right price. And he was doing it now, tearing through men like they were paper, protecting his right price, Jaejoong.

As Yunho pulled Jaejoong along, Junsu being forced to hang back, it was looking to be next to impossible to snatch Jaejoong without a serious fight.

The Captain’s brother being in the thick of things had been pure luck.

Shim Changmin.

Junsu had read his file on the way to the Moon Hub. Companion Shim Changmin had been with the Companion’s Guild officially since his eight birthday, and he’d been actively taking clients since his seventeenth year. He held a flawless record, seemed to have a request wait list years long, and was, even by Junsu’s personal tastes, very attractive. The fact that he was Captain Jung’s brother was one of the more interesting mysteries Junsu had ever come across.

A Companion and a cargo space rat. Brothers. Stranger things rarely had Junsu known.

Junsu detested violence, at least when it was avoidable.

But he’d had to do it. The opportunity was too perfect.

So with one well placed bullet, discharged from the pistol at his hip, Junsu reduced the Captain’s brother to a bleeding mess. And as predicted, more shots had fired, bringing the Alliance presence down more fully on the riot, sending even more people into a panic.

It was a risky thing, too, taking aim at a Companion. Aggression of any kind against a Companion was usually bad news--the kind that resulted in the loss of limb or life. But Junsu had been particularly thorough when scoping out the area, and from his position partially hidden in a side alley, and with the sheer amount of people around him, it would certainly be impossible to trace the bullet in the Companion’s gut to his gun. And he’d be long gone with Jaejoong before anyone had the chance to try and sort out the ballistics of the situation.

Or he would have been, if his mark hadn’t been the second kind of rare breed of man, the kind who scarified for others without concern for themselves.

If Junsu had been a more patient man he might have waited for a better, later opportunity. He might have let Yunho and Jaejoong cart Changmin back to their ship and fly off into the blackness. But Junsu had always been impatient. It was his greatest flaw, and the kind that had gotten him in more than an obscene amount of trouble as a child.

So he’d said, “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you carry him back to your ship as fast as possible and you take me with you.”

He wasn’t the only bounty hunter with a crack at Jaejoong’s bounty. And he probably wasn’t even the only one on the space station. But if he played his cards right, he could be the only one on the actual ship with Jaejoong.

Maybe the Companion would pull through, and maybe he wouldn’t, but no doubt Jaejoong would exhaust himself trying to save his life. He’d be exhausted by the time Junsu found the perfect moment to snatch him and commandeer one of the ship’s emergency shuttles.

So with his own kind of luck, the sort he rarely saw in his line of work, he ended up clutching a bulkhead as the Tohoshinki shot off into the void, Jaejoong shut up in the infirmary with Changmin who was steadily bleeding out. And the Captain, the man who’d burn the world for the right price, didn’t seem as if he could recall what his own name was.

It was understandable, really. Had Junsu any siblings he supposed he would have felt a sense of attachment as well.

Gruffly, from his elbow, a tall dark haired man asked him in an unexpectedly soft voice, “Tell me what happened. Tell me why you wanted on this ship.” His eyes were suspicious and his hand too close to his gunbelt.

By Junsu’s estimation there were only two real threats on the ship at the moment, excluding the Captain for obvious reasons. The first had gone off with the rambling, lost Captain, and the second was at Junsu’s side.

“I was just looking for passage to Guzi,” Junsu lied easily, doing his best to look a little ship sick. “That’s all. I got caught in that … whatever the hell that was. Riot? Deathtrap? I got caught right in the middle, and I thought I was going to die.”

As the ship shuttered, something that felt worrisome to Junsu, a young voice crackled across the intercom, “What the hell is going on down there? Captain? Mi?”

The man at Junsu’s side didn’t move an inch, save to question, “Why are you on this ship at the moment?”

Junsu nodded after the direction the Captain had gone. “I made a deal with your Captain. He got me off the station and I helped him carry that guy who got shot here.”

“Changmin,” the dark haired man said, jaw set firmly. “His name is Changmin and he’s the Captain’s brother. But that doesn’t’ answer my question.”

The ship shifted so fast to one side that Junsu staggered, and the man next to him moved just enough that he could see the closed doors of the infirmary. Causalities were a part of the work. Junsu couldn’t afford to care about everyone he came across, but he didn’t actually want the Companion to die. Junsu hated having to kill.

Suddenly the doors to the infirmary slammed open and Jaejoong, sweaty and covered in blood, shouted, “Yoochun! I need your help.”

Yoochun. The other. It wasn’t lost on Junsu that he’d been standing on the other side of the cargo bay the entire time. Jaejoong was the real prize, but if he had to settle for Yoochun, it wouldn’t be a complete bust.

“Your answer?”

Yoochun dashed through the infirmary doors and Junsu turned back to his interrogator. “I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible because I’m on probation right now. And maybe you missed it, but the Alliance soldiers who were attempting to squash the riot weren’t exactly checking who they were body checking to the ground. They’d have done the same to me in a second for simply being there, and probably worse, too.”

Dark eyes nodded. “Why worse?”

After a moment of thought, Junsu offered, “Because the guy who shot that kid? Changmin? I’m pretty sure I killed him.” Junsu let his eyes flicker down to his pistol on his belt. If they checked his weapon they’d be able to see one round missing, and hopefully his story would hold up.

It didn’t even look like the man in front of him was breathing, and with his size it was a formidable sight. But eventually, no matter how slowly, lines of relief flooded his features.

“You saw who shot Changmin?”

“I did,” Junsu said flawlessly. It wasn’t a lie.

“And you took care of it?”

Junsu nodded. Also not a lie, per say.

“Guys?” the intercom sounded again. “Someone get on this ing intercom and tell me what’s going on!”

The man clapped Junsu on the shoulder and said, “Okay. For the moment you’ve got passage on this ship. But you might want to start praying to whichever god you believe in, for when the Captain finds out you shot the man who hurt Changmin.”

Junsu frowned. “Won’t he be pleased? You told me the kid is his brother.”

“He might be appreciative down the line,” the man said, making for the intercom on the wall. “But right away? He’ll just be pissed you stole the opportunity from him.”

Junsu didn’t want to think about what would actually happen if the Captain ever found out he was the one who truthfully shot his brother.

“I’m Zhou Mi,” the man said finally, introducing himself over his shoulder as he hit he intercom button. “Kyuhyun, I’ll be up there in a second. Just keep us flying, okay?” Zhou Mi turned back to him. “Once we get everything sorted, we’ll be able to work out where to drop you. We’re headed into the Core right now … though I’m not sure why anymore.”

“Anywhere with a decent space sport is fine,” Junsu said in a nonchalant way. Then he settled in to see what kind of an opportunity would present itself.

The Captain, a least for the next six hours, was a no-show. Junsu wasn’t sure where he was, or what he could be possibly doing while his brother was in surgery, but neither could he seem too interested in learning about the Captain.

But at the end of those six hours, looking absolutely weary, with sweat matted hair, Jaejoong emerged from the infirmary pulling at the collar of his high buttoned shirt. The very one stained red.

In the time since they’d left the Moon Hub Junsu had been able to get a pretty good look at the crew. Zhou Mi and Leeteuk were the muscle. There was a pilot, too, whom Junsu had yet to see, and a mechanic who’d shown for half a minute before retreating down into the bowels of the ship once more. And then there was Ryeowook, who waited anxiously near the infirmary doors, giving Junsu suspicious and distrustful looks.

Of all of them, Junsu liked Ryeowok the least. Something about him screamed he’d be trouble for Junsu and his bounty.

But, save for the pilot and Captain, they were all there when Jaejoong emerged, Yoochun not far behind him.

“Well?” Zhou Mi demanded, not giving Jaejoong an inch of breathing room. “Tell us.”

Jaejoon gave them a weak smile. “Changmin is going to survive.”

A collective breath of release sounded around Junsu, and even he was a little thankful. He truly hadn’t wanted to shoot Changmin, especially for a distraction that hadn’t even paid off in the end.

“Thank the gods,” Zhou Mi said, deflating in his shoulders. “We’d have lost the Captain too, if we lost Changmin.”

“He’s going to have a tough road to recovery,” Jaejoong said truthfully to them. “The bullet managed to miss almost all of his vital organs, but it broke apart in him, shredding a good deal of muscle and tissue. He’s going to be in a lot of pain and sore before he can even begin to get out of bed, and when he does, he’s going to have to retrain his abdominal muscles to be strong again.”

“Does he need a hospital?” Onew asked from the fringe of the room.

“Surprisingly?” Jaejoong chuckled, “No. I honestly wouldn’t have expected a ship of his make and this age to have such a fully stocked infirmary, but we have everything Changmin needs in the immediate future right here. He should be moved as little as possible right now.” Jaejoong turned to Zhou Mi. “Was there a doctor here before me? On this ship?”

Darkly, and in a way that Junsu sensed a bit resentful, Zhou Mi said, “We didn’t even know you were a doctor.”

It didn’t surprise Junsu in the least bit to learn that Jaejoong had kept that part of him a secret from the crew. The Captain was an obvious smuggler, likely a Browncoat supporter, and he could have easily turned out to be just as untrustworthy as one might expect. Doctors, outside the Core, were highly prized and sought after. On the Rim, a doctor could be bought or sold for countless credits, and Jaejoong’s permission would not be required for either.

Smartly from behind him, Yoochun said, “You didn’t exactly ask.”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Jaejoong said, a promise in his voice. “I just wanted to let everyone know that Changmin’s in recovery now, and you can see him one at a time starting tomorrow. Has … have any of you seen the Captain? Where’s Yunho?”

Ryeowook made a strained sound and Zhou Mi said, “Leeteuk is taking care of him right now. I don’t think putting him anywhere near Changmin is the best idea. But he’s okay, and he’ll be even better knowing Changmin is going to be fine.”

Jaejoong gave a slow nod.

Carefully, and with deliberate words that made Junsu pay even more attention, Onew asked, “Are we still headed to our destination? Is that an option anymore?”

They were hiding something.

It was in the way Zhou Mi’s eyes cut to Junsu for a half second before returning to Onew. And the way Ryeowook shuffled the slightest on his feet.

“Yes,” Zhou Mi said after a beat more. “We’re still going there, but I don’t know anything else. The Captain will decide … when he can. Probably when Changmin is awake to talk to him about it.

Ah, so the Companion was involved somehow.

It had always been a confusing portion of the puzzle, having a Companion on a ship like the Tohoshinki. Even if Yunho and Changmin were brothers, thought not by blood, a Companion of Changmin’s caliber should never have been attached to a cargo freighter. It was illogical and incomprehensible.

“Excuse me?”

While the others were starting to disperse, it was Jaejoong, the man with nearly a million credits on his bounty, drawing Junsu’s attention.

“Yes?” Junsu tried to keep his heart rate low. He always felt a rush when his bounty was so close, and his fingers pled with him to reach out and grab Jaejoong. A million credit bounty like Jaejoong’s successfully completed could earn Junsu the kind of recognition and respect his family’s business was in desperate need of, in order to secure more lucrative contracts.

Jaejoong offered him a small, innocent grin. “You helped Yunho carry Changmin to the ship, right?”

“I did.” Junsu nodded.

The smile on Jaejoong’s face grew. “Thank you so much. We only had seconds to spare with trying to stop the bleeding, and you made it possible for me to save Changmin. Thank you. I’m Jaejoong.”

“Xia,” Junsu returned, using the name he often revealed during his jobs.

“Zhou Mi just told me you’re the man who stopped whoever hurt Changmin.”

Junsu replied, “I think I did.”

“Thank you,” Jaejoong said once more.

“Jae,” Yoochun said, coming up behind him and touching his elbow. “You’re tired. You should go rest.”

“I want to monitor Changmin for a little while longer,” Jaejoong protested. “At least for another hour, Yoochun. I have to make sure he’s okay. I can’t let anything happen to Yunho’s little brother. I just can’t.”

If Junsu’s creed had allowed even he slightest bit of emotion, he might have felt at least a little bad about ripping Jaejoong away from where he was and carting him back to a father who was all kinds of scary to even Junsu.

There was nothing in the nature of kidnapping between Jaejoong and Yoochun. If anything they looked to be friends, and it was far more likely that Jaejoong had helped Yoochun escape from an oppressive household.

Taking both of them back would mean terrible things for Jaejoong, but certain death for Yoochun.

For the briefest of moments he thought of the way his mother’s face had looked when she’d told him what had happened to his father, less than a day after Junsu had been conceived. And the way in which she had spoken, assuring him that even if she had known she was pregnant, she still would have turned him over to the Alliance for his death sentence.

The two situations weren’t so different, Junsu supposed. A job was a job and emotions were not allowed. Context wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was acquiring the bounty and delivering it.

They ended up putting him in one of the guest rooms, one across from where Yoochun and Jaejoong were staying. It had a private terminal in it and after encrypting his network, he was able to contract his mother who was currently traveling herself.

“I’ve located my targets,” he reported.

She was harsh as he inquired, “Located, but not acquired?”

Junsu made a face. “There were compilations. Too many uncontrollable variables. I was forced to make necessary changes. I’m in a better position now, and at the first opportunity, I’ll be headed back with both targets.”

“Where are you now?”

Junsu gave a look around his quarters. “On a derelict freighter. The Make class, designation Tohoshinki.”

The corners of his mother’s mouth pulled upward. “Then you’re sitting atop your prey.”

“I am,” Junsu said. “And they have no clue who I am or what I plan to do. In fact I’m winning their trust as we speak. In another day or so they won’t look twice when I walk by, and they won’t think not to turn their backs on me when I create the perfect diversion to make my move.”

“Good,” she said, and it was as close to approval as Junsu knew he would ever get from her. In fact the only time she’d looked proud of him was when he’d brought in his first bounty by himself. Then she’d reprimanded him for taking twice the amount of time he should have, and breaking three ribs in the process. “There’s been a new development on the bounty, however.”

“Tell me.” Her words crawled under his skin. He hated when the bounty changed. he hated when he was forced to deviate from the agreed upon standard.

“The contract is not longer exclusive,” his mother said, and she didn’t look any more pleased than he was. “In less than twelve hours you’ll have every bounty hunter in the Core, and a good deal of them from the Rim, on your . You need to close this bounty as quickly as possible.”

Junsu felt his forehead crease as he frowned. “There’s more.”

His mother nodded. “The bounty conditions for one, Kim Jaejoong remains the same. Three quarters of a million credits to be delivered upon return to his father, so long as he’s alive. But the bounty on Park Yoochun has been transferred to the Alliance.”

Junsu couldn’t help leaning forward in his seat, eyes going wide. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means the Alliance owns the contract now, and we deliver the Park boy to them. They want him alive, and they’re willing to offer twice the credits for him.”

“,” Junsu eased out. Alliance involvement was never good. And anyone who drew the Alliance’s eye to them, with a bounty of a million and a half credits … “Do we know why the Alliance wants Yoochun Park?”

“No,” his mother said gruffly, “and we don’t care. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Junsu reached for the switch to end the transmission. “I’ll contact you again when I have the bounty in my custody.”

“See that you do.”

Twenty-five years. For twenty-five years Junsu had lived the creed and defined his life by the work his mother taught him. And never until now had he come across a bounty transferred to the Alliance. Never before had he been tempted to leave the bounty that was now worth more, and take the smaller.

The Alliance was nothing but trouble, and it was the kind that Junsu knew to steer clear of. Other bounty hunters, the more foolish ones, could have the Alliance bounty. Now that Junsu thought about it, Jaejoong’s bounty was enough. Unless the perfect opportunity presented itself, Junsu planed to take Jaejoong and leave Yoochun. Let the Tohoshinki deal with having an Alliance fugitive aboard.

A meal was called several hours later, and Junsu did his part to do his best to blend in, and become as unthreatening as possible. He concocted a back story for himself, one filled with illegal salvage, time served and dues paid, and a credibility to his usefulness on a ship like the Tohoshinki.

He contributed just enough to the conversation to seem likable, but kept out of it enough as well to listen to what the others were saying. Their conversation was subdued, as Junsu might have expected, but there were nuances to pick up on, from the chain of command, to who was sleeping with who.

Easy targets were distinguished as well. If need be, Junsu would use any of them to serve his plans, but Ryeowook and Kyuhyun who were the youngest, and possibly the least capable of defending themselves, were of consideration.

Junsu made a point to help with the dishes, ignoring the continued suspicious looks Ryeowook was giving him, and then offered to Leeteuk, “I know you didn’t plan on taking me on as an extra mouth to feed, and while I don’t have a lot in the way of credits, you’re welcome to what I do have. But I want to pull my weight. If there’s anything you need doing, I’ll be the man to get it done.” And with any luck, he’d be able to wander the ship, learn the layout, and check out the emergency shuttle that he planned to use to make his escape.

Leeteuk, with his bloodshot eyes waved him off. “We’re discuss all of that later.” He tugged a hand through his hair and added. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about everything, but for now, please remain in your cabin. If you need to leave for whatever reason, call for myself or Zhou Mi.”

It seemed that they weren’t going to take any chances with him at the beginning, but Junsu was prepared to wait them out. Patience was not a virtue of his, but knowing that other bounty hunters were on the trail made him less inclined to take a risk and make a mistake. He wouldn’t get a second shot at Jaejoong.

They passed by the infirmary on the way to his designated room, and from the new angle he could see through the observation room on the side. The blinds had been pulled earlier, buy they were open now.

Changmin was laid out on the bed, sleeping with an easy expression on his face, and Jaejoong was standing next to him, monitoring his numbers, looking as if he were minutes away from passing out on his feet.

The bigger surprise was the appearance of the Captain. Seated in the chair next to his brother’s bed, he was wearing completely different clothing, had scrubbed all the blood from his face and hands, and was at the very least, looking a bit more alert.

“Your Captain looks to be doing a little better,” Junsu observed, forcing himself not to check for a reaction on Leeteuk’s face.

“He needed time to get himself together,” Leeteuk said simply. “He’ll talk to you tomorrow as well. No one stays on this ship for any amount of time without his permission.”

Junsu forced a chuckle. “Zhou Mi thinks he might toss me out the airlock ,or something equally as exciting for taking down the man who shot his brother.”

Leeteuk made a low sound in his throat, but offered nothing else.

That night Junsu stared up at the ceiling in his room, feeling the ship hum under him, counting the steps of whoever was walking past his door, up and down the hallway for hours, tirelessly.

Getting Jaejoong out from under the noses of Leeteuk and Zhou Mi would be hard, and no doubt Yoochun would be reluctant to part from his friend for any real amount of time as well. But even on the way to recovery, Junsu couldn’t have asked for a better distraction than Changmin.

It wouldn’t be long before the Captain tried to part him from the ship. He’d taken Junsu on out of necessity, but he wouldn’t be allowed to remain for even a day or two more. There was obviously something going on that he couldn’t make out, a plan or job or some sort that they didn’t want him to know about.

But none of that mattered.

There would come a moment, no matter how brief, when Jaejoong was alone, the others turned their backs, and no one suspected a thing.

It was a moment Junsu would capitalize on, and be gone before the damage done could be realized. The bounty was as good as his.

Even if a few more casualties littered the way.