by: Sarah Stodola

 

Blonde hair lifting lightly in the breeze and a slight smile on her face, Jennifer didn’t look any more dangerous than she ever had — except for the big, powerful pistol she held casually in a police grip, its wide muzzle pointed directly in the dark-haired Duke’s face. She waved it slowly around at the entire group, still smiling. “You were right. There was a… traitor. And I’m not giving in yet. I’m surprised you took out a group like Izzac’s. I hadn’t expected such skill. I apparently underestimated you farmboys.”

“Where’s Candy?!” Frank exploded. “I left her with you; what did you do with her?!”

Green eyes glinted disdain. “I wouldn’t hurt a child. I left her back at the motel.” She tossed her head in the general direction. “Tied up, of course.”

“Tied up..!” Ending the words abruptly, an enraged father leapt forward. The gun instantly swung around in Brandon’s direction, and Frank and Caleb grabbed for his elbows to hold him back.

“Careful!” Caleb ordered. “She’ll fire that thing if you give her too much reason.”

“Jenny… why?” a voice came very quietly from just behind Luke. He half-turned to see that the mixed-up emotions of hurt, shock, and beginning anger that were in his younger cousin’s words were on his face as well. Bo stepped forward in confrontation. “Why? How could you do this? After… everything?”

She eyed him aloofly. “I told you I would have a team of my own someday.”

“But not this one!” he protested.

“Why not? Less work. If all had gone as planned, no one would ever have known I had anything to do with this. I would have gotten Caleb and Frank here out of the way, and well…” She shrugged, smiling. “The team would need someone to boost their morale and be the leader, wouldn’t it?”

Bo opened his mouth again, then, seeming at a loss for words, looked to Luke. The older Duke wished that there was something he could do to assauge the pain of betrayal that glimmered in those dark blue eyes. He sighed and reached out, carefully keeping an eye on the gun, to touch his blond cousin’s shoulder gently.

It seemed to give him a little more confidence. He met Jennifer’s gaze again, everyone else watching in silence. “How could you do this to your friends? To Brandon? Don’t you have any loyalty?” He paused, then said very softly, “How could you do this to me?”

For the first time, the young woman hesitated. She sighed, a flicker of regret passing over her features. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Bo. I wanted you to join me. Remember?”

“…Yeah. But don’t you know me well enough to know that I don’t steal? I thought you were talkin’ about creating a team all your own, Jenny. Not taking something that someone else worked so hard for.” To Luke’s surprise, Bo took another step forward, reaching out one hand slowly. “Don’t do this. Please. Give me the gun.”

“No! I have to do this! It’s the only way!”

“No it ain’t. There’s lots of ways. Come on.” The younger Duke took one more step, and Luke felt the knot in his stomach tighten one more notch as he tensed fully. Staying very still was necessary, but it was very hard when he wanted to leap to pull that muzzle away from his little cousin’s chest. Jennifer held the pistol steady, but hesitated, obviously reluctant to shoot her once-friend. “No one’s gonna hate you. Not me, not anyone here. C’mon, Jenny.”

“I…” she started. Luke just watched, fascinated. He’d never seen Bo act so… sensible, quiet… mature. It was like watching his cousin as the grown man he was never supposed to become.

Another step. He was almost within touching distance now. He kept his voice soft, his movements careful. “I love you, Jenny. I thought you loved me.”

“I… I do. But…”

“Please do this for me. Let me have the gun. You don’t really want to hurt anybody, do you?” He reached out now, slowly, and his fingers touched her hand.

Suddenly she seemed to get a hold on herself, and she recoiled as if electrically shocked. Her expression darkened. “Bo, don’t get in my way! I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t give this up. I had everything planned out… everything!” she exploded. “And then this happens! You and your cousin happen! Why couldn’t you just stay out of it?!”

Bo swallowed, then took a deep breath, seeming to stiffen, and lifted his chin in a show of almost childish defiance, born of a very sudden, very real pain in his eyes. Luke suddenly realized that the younger boy’s emotional barriers were all down. A flash of angry, almost paternal protectiveness burned its way through him, something very like a growl settling in his throat, and he had to fight with all he had not to step forward, not to defend.

“Your plan might have worked, Jennifer,” Bo said quietly, his hand dropping to his side. “But you didn’t account for everything. You didn’t account for Duke honor.” In the very next moment, faster than Luke had ever known his cousin could move, the eighteen-year-old had kicked out at the pistol in the girl driver’s hand, knocking it sideways, then grabbed the barrel and pointed it straight towards the sky. Jennifer hissed in anger and fought to regain control of the gun. Luke could only watch in horror, frustratedly angry at his sudden inability to move. He wanted to grab for his own gun, but he was afraid he’d hit Bo.

“Let go, Bo Duke!” she yelled. But the young farmboy had Duke stubbornness and male strength on his side, and slowly the gun started to come out of her double-fisted grip. Then suddenly she changed directions and threw herself into Bo, obviously hoping to knock him back. Instead, he hung on like a pit bull, and the two blond teenagers struggled on the ground for control of the weapon.

When the deafening echo of a gunshot fired into the air rattled his eardrums, Luke finally managed to get the message to his legs, and leapt forward in defense of his younger cousin, the others right behind him. But the Georgian reached the fight first, shoving his way into the middle, and to the surprise of both combatants snatched the pistol away and tossed it to Brandon. Jennifer hesitated, and with a furious growl Bo sprang to his feet and dragged her to hers, twisting her arms behind her back. Dark blue eyes were glowing with a fury born of anguish, and he was trembling visibly, plagued with indecision as to what to do next.

Jennifer struggled, and Bo tightened his grip. The girl driver closed her eyes, a wince of pain on her face as she went absolutely still. Luke let his cousin hold her there for just a second longer before taking a single step to lay a hand against his back.

“Bo,” he said softly. “Let go. It’s over.”

Those eyes flashed over to meet his, but Luke met the roiling storm with gentle calm, and finally the young blond slowly released his prisoner. Frank and Caleb came over to guard the now defeated-looking girl as cops came running, drawn by the sound of gunfire, and Bo turned to lean against his older cousin, shaking with a fierce effort not to cry, to regain the control that was obviously out of his reach. Standing still in the midst of chaos, Luke closed his eyes and just held him, not caring at all what anyone might think.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

Trying to straighten out who had illegally done what to whom, and why, was a very difficult and time-consuming task. Especially when the police officer you were trying to explain it to was not particularly understanding. Luke sighed explosively, his body so tense that he wished he could just get up and leave. But dutifully, he started in on telling the whole story for the sixth time. The sergeant’s eyes seemed almost vague, as though he were staring off into space rather than listening, and the older Duke couldn’t think of anything more frustrating at that moment in time.

At least Izzac was in jail. So was Jennifer Garret. Bo had gone in to talk to her privately for a little while, and had come out unwilling to tell Luke what had transpired. He hadn’t asked, pretty sure that he’d find out sooner or later, and willing to let his younger cousin alone for now. The eighteen-year-old’s grip on himself was shaky enough as it was; he didn’t need anybody else to help break the fragile rein he’d finally managed to gain on his emotions. Luke could only imagine how hard all this must be on him; how would that feel, to be betrayed by someone you loved? He wished fervently that there could have been some way he could have seen what would happen, that he could have saved Bo the pain. But what was done was done, and there was no undoing it. The hurt would simply have to heal. It would take a while, and forcing him to talk about it now wouldn’t help things any. Maybe later.

The police had taken over the whole operation when they’d arrived on the scene, handcuffing both Jennifer and Bo and hauling the whole team down to headquarters. Fiercely protective of his suddenly-vulnerable younger cousin, Luke had demanded and finally been allowed to ride in the police car with him. The older Duke was glad to have someone else to take the burden of dealing with their enemies, yet at the same time somehow resented the intrusion. He’d felt like it had been his battle, his prisoner, and had to forcefully remind himself that he wasn’t back in half-wild Hazzard. The law reigned here in the city; vigilantes only got themselves into trouble, as they all had discovered in very short order. They were being treated with only a little more civility than the criminals they’d captured.

At least the police had finally let Brandon and the team go to rescue Candy and get some rest back at the track, with only a written summons to appear in court for breaking several rules of the road. Luke had agreed to stay behind, and had finally gotten the guard to release his cousin, but except for a very brief smile of thanks, Bo had kept mostly to himself ever since they’d arrived at the station two hours ago. Right now he was sitting in the corner of a black vinyl couch on the opposite side of the booking room from everyone else, legs curled under him, body somewhat tense, and eyes staring out the window vacantly. It was not a pose that invited advances friendly or otherwise, and Luke was getting more antsy about his worried desire to go and break through some of those shields the longer the statements were taking.

When he’d finished the account of the night’s happenings, Luke sat back and waited, hoping that he wouldn’t have to do this yet again. The desk officer, a pudgy, balding man with a bland expression, just sat there for a moment, looking serious, then finally nodded and scribbled something on a sheet of paper.

“It’s a rather unbelievable tale, Mr. Duke. But the evidence seems to say that you’re telling the truth.” He gestured with his pen toward the cell block. “Tell me, where did you learn to play cop like that?”

He took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to tell the man. But he had to say something; might as well be the truth. Certain little facts, like moonshine and Boss Hogg, would be left out, of course. “Well, I think it started long before we,” he nodded briefly toward Bo, “were born. Generations ago. There wasn’t much in the way of law enforcement in our Appalachian hills back in those days, and men learned to take care of themselves. To fight for their families and friends. I guess the tradition has been passed on even to our generation, though we now have a local police force.” He hesitated, but this would be in his record so he might as well not seem to try to hide it. “I may have been more hasty than even the norm about jumping into this. You see, I was in Marine intelligence in Vietnam. Old training dies real hard.”

The sergeant looked at him hard, with what almost seemed like disapproval in his eyes. Luke stiffened, anger curling slightly in his middle, but he tamped it down before it could manifest. He should have expected this; patriotic Hazzard was a wonderful refuge from the persecutions of Nam veterans, but not the norm. “I see. Taking the law into your own hands like that isn’t a good idea though, young man.”

“I’m aware of that, sir,” Luke said tightly. “I didn’t see much else to do.”

The officer nodded toward Bo. “He’s just a boy. Why’d you bring him into this?”

“Bo wouldn’t’ve stayed behind if I’d wanted him to. Besides, he’s tougher than he sometimes seems,” he defended his cousin. He caught motion out of the corner of his eye; Bo had stirred to look at them, his attention caught by his name. “Please, officer, could we go now? I’ve been up all night, and I would like some sleep.”

The sergeant eyed him again, then finally glanced down and stamped a piece of paper. He handed it over almost grudgingly. “Don’t leave the city; we’ll need you to testify in court.”

“Thank you,” Luke replied, consciously keeping a sarcastic tone out of his voice. He was more than ready to leave; police stations made a ridge-runner nervous. He stood without further politeness and went over to Bo, laying a hand on his shoulder. When dark blue eyes met his own with an actual willingness to accept the touch, he smiled. “Come on, cuz. Let’s get out of here.”

Bo smiled back, slowly, and climbed to his feet. Once they were out the door and on the open lawn, Luke put an arm around his shoulders. The eighteen-year-old started, eyes widening briefly. “What?”

He smiled. “Nothin’, really. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“Am I?” the soft reply came. The younger boy looked away.

“Oh, little cousin…” He halted and faced him, reaching out gently to turn the teenager’s chin toward himself so that their eyes made contact. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I…” Bo swallowed, tears brimming in his eyes. Valiantly, he fought them back. “Just be here.”

“Bo…” He pulled his cousin into a hug, not caring about their public location, and feeling almost like crying himself. He shoved back the urge almost before before it came into being though. “I am here. I’ll always be here, any place, any time.”

“I know,” the young blond whispered, returning the hug for a couple of seconds before stepping back and attempting a wavery smile. “Let’s go get the General.”

“You got it.” Luke squeezed his shoulders quickly, then let him go.

They walked around the brick building to the impound yard, where the older cousin showed the guard there the stamped piece of paper giving them permission to take the General Lee. The uniformed man nodded and smiled quite a bit more cordially than the sergeant inside had as they walked past. It didn’t take much looking to find the orange Charger, even in the large yard. His colors stood out the moment they rounded a pile of crunched cars. Bo headed for the driver’s seat, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Luke went for the other side. The younger Duke would be fine. He was a great driver, and he seemed steady enough. Besides, he’d had more sleep than his older cousin had, even if only a couple of hours’ worth.

The blond teenager started the engine with its characteristic roar-growl and pulled out for once without any flair, waving to the guard as they drove past. Luke’s mind was wandering already to a soft, warm bed and maybe some honest food in his stomach, too… when the General squealed to a halt right in front of the police station. Thrown forward, he flung his hands out in front of him to keep from hitting the dashboard and spun to ask Bo what in the world was the matter with him. His cousin just pointed. Following the line of sight, he saw a black Camero street racer speeding out of the station driveway and spinning to turn down the road. The brief reflection of unlit lights in the back window told him that it was an unmarked highway patrol car.

“What?” he asked.

Bo looked at him, eyes wide in startlement and anger. “That was Izzac!”

“C’mon, Bo, you really think he could escape from a place like this?”

“I don’t know how. But I know he did it!”

Luke pondered whether or not to argue, then decided he wouldn’t. Bo knew what he’d seen. He trusted his cousin; he was pretty observant and quick-minded. Then armed policemen started running out of the building, and Bo grabbed his arm.

“C’mon, Luke! Let’s get him Hazzard-style!” His voice was suddenly strong, anger tinting it with an obvious desire to strike out at someone, especially one of the ones responsible for all that had happened.

An answering rush of adrenaline shot through Luke’s bloodstream, wiping the exhaustion away, and he grinned fiercely. He was suddenly more than willing to leave legalities behind; he was sick and tired of this man messing with his life and his friends’ lives, and he wasn’t going to let him just get away with it. “Okay. Let’s do it,” he said softly.

With a loud, defiant rebel yell, the eighteen-year-old shoved the car into reverse, skidding around in a tight turn and then putting the pedal to the floor. The big racer eagerly gave his all in a great roar, leaping forward down the street and living up to the name of his kind, Charger, as he burst right through the scattering crowd of policemen in much the same fashion as a knight’s steed through a tilting yard. The Dixie horn shouted a challenge, and the chase was on, like a hound after a fox.

**

The black streetcar was fast, Bo had to give it that. It was giving the General a real run for his money. His eyes narrowed against the sun, he followed Izzac through twisting, winding streets. The pair of racers were followed by police cars nearly the whole way, both street cops howling down the speeders and pursuers fighting to recapture their escaped prisoner, but the young ridge-runner had so far evaded being slowed down. Perhaps it wasn’t as easy as losing Rosco, but he was managing rather well, he thought. Unfortunately, the result was a sort of convoy behind them, one that Bo would have been quite happy to be without.

Luke hadn’t said a word except to point out obstacles or where their quarry had gone when the younger cousin had had to take his eyes off it for a moment. The teenager had to wonder what was going through the mind behind those icy eyes. He knew that he himself was making this run mostly with the tenacity of a determination for some sort of revenge. He knew it wasn’t right, really, but that was how he felt anyway. The pain of betrayal that he’d been fighting had turned into anger somewhere along the way; he wasn’t sure when. He’d never even imagined Jennifer as his enemy. He’d cared for her… and thought the feeling was returned. But without a warning she had turned on him, pointing a gun at Luke with intent to fire it, to kill the man he loved and trusted more than anyone. And his world had been turned upside down.

He was holding on to control over his emotions only with great effort. He was stubbornly resolved that he would not break down in front of strangers, though in the back of his mind he knew that it would have to come out sometime. But he would be alone with Luke when it happened. No one else would understand.

Turning his thoughts from himself, he frowned at the road ahead of him, watching the other car’s every move. That little, barely perceptible twitch to the left… that meant that the other driver would turn to the right real soon… there! Bo twisted the wheel to remain stuck to the Camero’s rear end like a burr on a retriever’s coat, his entire world consisting of the road ahead, the car he was chasing, and his cousin beside him, commenting once in a while on something, quietly cheering him on. He was glad that Luke was there. Somehow, that simple presence was giving him the strength to go on, to fight to win this battle. He was tired and emotionally badly wounded, but he could do it for Luke.

The chase continued on out of the city. The buildings were getting few and farther between. Farms were starting to flash by, and then suddenly the road turned to dirt. The streetcar ahead skidded slightly before regaining its footing, but Bo yelled out loud in fierce glee, putting the General Lee’s accelerator father down. The powercar’s dirt-track tires dug into the familiar terrain and shot them forward. The police cruisers behind dropped back, and Izzac’s grew closer.

Luke pointed ahead and off to the side. “There’s some kind of fair or something. I bet he’s gonna try to hide in there.”

Bo gave the rows of dusty station wagons, pickups, and horse trailers in the dirt parking lot a quick glance. “That’s dumb. That car’s gonna stick out like a jug of tar among shine.”

“Yeah, but the man could get lost in the crowd.”

The teenager scowled at the black car sliding to a halt in a space between two cars that looked like they could give the General Lee a run for his money. “Yeah, you’re right!” He floored the gas, and the orange racer leapt into the parking lot and toward the other car. But by the time the boys had skidded to a halt and scrambled out of their car, Izzac was already running for a gateway.

Luke was the faster runner of the cousins, but Bo was determined, and kept up by sheer stubbornness alone as they burst through the gate, dodged around a couple of groups of men in cowboy hats, and came up hard against a wooden fence. Bo looked around, panting, then pointed.

“He’s over there!” The Major had taken a direct shortcut across the corral in front of them. Luke’s jaw visibly tightened.

“All right. I’m goin’ after him. He’s unarmed and I’m not; if I can corner him, we’ll have him.”

“How do you know he’s unarmed?” Bo worried.

Light blue eyes glanced at him almost coldly, though it was not a coldness directed toward the younger boy. “Because if he had a gun, we’d both be at least stuck on the side of the road, if not dead. Izzac ain’t one to run unless forced to.” He touched his blond cousin’s shoulder lightly. “Keep an eye out for me, okay?” And with that he vaulted over the fence and took out running, small pistol in hand.

Bo swallowed and leaned against the corral, then scrambled over for himself to perch half-sitting on the top rail. His eyes searched the crowd, then locked onto his cousin’s running form and the black-clad man in front of him, one fast-moving determinedly, one chasing just as determinedly. He tensed, wishing that he could be the one chasing their enemy down. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, glancing around. A few people were watching the running pair, pointing and calling out.

Then a bell rang, and the young blond spun around to see a gate slam open. The sudden shouts let him know that this wasn’t normal, wasn’t supposed to happen, as a big red bull came galloping out, riderless, into what Bo could now see was a rodeo arena. The animal snorted and pawed the earth, then its eyes caught Izzac and Luke. Everything seemed to happen in a moment. Izzac hit the far wall and turned to run in another direction. Luke launched himself forward in a football-like tackle, catching the older man around the middle and throwing him to the dirt. And the bull bellowed and pounded into a flat-out run toward the two men wrestling on the ground, to the screams of the spectators. One cowboy ran out with a lasso, but before he could unwind his rope, the bull swept his head sideways, almost casually, and sent the man flying.

Bo snapped out of his frozen state, eyes narrowing. Fury swept in, and he tensed on the fence. His world narrowed again, as it always did when he concentrated on something, and he crouched as the animal swept nearer, nearer… it was going to pass right by, and the eighteen-year-old already knew what he was going to do. He’d watched enough cowboy movies. As the bull came closer, fear hit the pit of his stomach, but he ordered it to stay down.

And he leaped.

His legs swung over the great back in almost showman fashion, his hands frantically grasping for a purchase. There was no going back now! After what seemed an eternity, his fingers closed around the horns, and his body swung down and over, his feet dragging on the ground. With a bellow of anger, the bull skidded to a halt and tossed his head, but Bo had pure Duke tenacity on his side, and as he pulled with all his strength, teeth gritted and eyes half-closed with the strain, slowly the great beast fell to his side in the dust, hollering as its legs flailed helplessly. Men ran up then, unprying the teenager’s fingers from the animal’s horns and slapping him roughly on the back as they subdued the bull themselves. Slowly, a cheer rose from the crowd, and Bo froze, only then realizing exactly what he’d done.

He was in a rodeo. Not just watching. Not even riding a horse. He’d just wrestled a big bull to the ground all by himself! His jaw falling open, he grinned, then suddenly sprang into the air and screamed in exhilaration, thrusting one fist skyward as he yelled. “Yee-haaa!”

But then he remembered Luke, and his heart leapt into his throat as he spun and shoved through the crowd to see what was going on. He was just in time to see his cousin jump to his feet, kicking out at the man still on the ground. As though in slow motion, Izzac ducked the defensive move then climbed to his own feet, a deadly-cold smile on his face as he lifted his arm… a gun in his hand.

He had grabbed Luke’s weapon. That was the first thing that flashed through Bo’s mind. The second was, he was gonna kill Luke! He spun to stare at the now-quiet bull being led away, then back at the master criminal flicking the safety off the gun. Then he looked at his older cousin, and was surprised to see a look of actual terror on his face. The blond eighteen-year-old hesitated for just a split second as his mind flew from thought to thought. He’d already been a hero once, with that bull… although he hadn’t done it to gain the attention he’d gotten. Could he do it again? He had to! He had to! Then suddenly his mind’s eye saw another scene too similar… Izzac smiling in the blackness… a gun shimmering somehow without light… Luke!!! His older cousin, his best friend, was going to die!!!

Everything seemed locked into frame-by-frame action, except for his own movements. In what he somehow, in the back of his mind, knew was a lightning-fast strike, he spun and snatched at the decorative holster the cowboy next to him was wearing. The man started to protest, not seeing the life-or-death scene being playing out nearby, but Bo only turned again, dropping to one knee and praying that there were actually bullets in the pistol he’d gained. Izzac’s finger tightened, and Luke spun away and started to run as if making an impossible bid for escape, but the teenager faltered for a moment, frightened at what he was doing. He’d never even imagined being caught in a situation like this! But then a thought snapped through his head — Beauregard Robert Duke, don’t be an idiot! In less than a second, his love for his cousin won out, and he snapped the heavy old-fashioned Colt up, pulling the hammer back and sighting with the skill only a woodsman’s nephew would know.

Two gunshots rang out at once, the resounding echo rolling across the arena like thunder. Someone snatched the gun from his hand, shoving him to the ground and pinning him there, but he didn’t care. His eyes were fastened on his cousin’s stock still form. Had he been shot? Would he fall to the ground, crumpling as Izzac seemed to do? But then Luke turned slowly, to stare at his younger cousin, and Bo couldn’t help but smile as the older Duke raised one hand, fist clenched and thumb up. Relief flooded his being, and he gave in to the imprisoning hands of the men behind him, not even caring.

The howl of sirens came to his ears as the police finally showed up, and the hands clamped tight around his wrists were loosened so that he could be dragged to his feet. The cowboys that had pinned him stood nearby, looking uncertain, but the cop who’d taken charge just shook his head, taking his cap off to run a hand through his hair. “Will you kids ever stay out of trouble?” he complained. “I should arrest you, but you just stopped one of the worst criminals in the state. What do you think I should do with you?” All Bo could do was smile shakily and shrug. He didn’t even care what happened now. He was just glad that both he and Luke were alive.

Other uniformed men ran out to get Luke and check Izzac. “He’s alive! Get an ambulance over here!” one officer yelled, and Bo was relieved again. He didn’t know what he’d have done if he had actually killed the man. He was glad that the life of any man, even one like the Major, wasn’t on his hands. He didn’t want to kill.

Finally the policeman ushered Bo to a car in a form of

semi-arrest, ordering him to stay put. As Luke slid in beside him, the blond teenager closed his eyes and leaned his head against his older cousin’s shoulder. “You’re alive,” was all he could whisper. “Lukas… you’re alive.”

“Thanks to you.” Luke sounded thoughtful, almost awed. And somehow, that made Bo, though still in shock, feel mighty proud.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

It was over. This time it was really over. Luke could hardly believe it. But Izzac’s bid for freedom, apparently helped by bribery of the guard (who was now in jail himself), had ended in the hospital, the Brandon team was safe, and here he was, back in the police station, resting for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He didn’t even care that he was in a cell; he was just so glad to be alive and able to sit still for more than one minute at a time. Bo was curled up on the thin cot next to where he sat, sleeping soundly with his cousin’s lap for a pillow. The eighteen-year-old had been through a lot in the last hours. And Luke was really very proud of him.

How the boy with such a love for life had managed to pull that trigger, he would never know. But he was glad he had. He had heard Izzac’s bullet whistle past his ear, and had been surprised, in a way, to have heard it rather than felt it slamming into his back, or his head. Then the fact that there had been a second gunshot had registered in his brain, and he had turned to see where it had come from, only to watch the Major crumple to the dirt like a puppet with its strings cut and see Bo kneeling a small distance away with a pistol in his hand. The teenager had looked shocked at his own actions, and scared, and Luke had had to do something to snap him out of it. So he had smiled, and given him a thumbs-up of thanks. There was no doubt in his mind that Bo had saved his life.

The police had taken them both into custody, and an ambulance had driven Izzac away, sirens wailing. The Dukes had been transported to the same police station they had been in before, another officer driving the General Lee, and put in a cell until it was decided exactly what would be done with them. At least the guard had let them stay together. Luke longed for a nap of his own, but didn’t feel relaxed enough to sleep. He still couldn’t shake the instinctive moonshiner distrust of the law, even if he had no reason at the moment. Besides, he had to watch over Bo.

He smiled down at his younger cousin, brushing his fingers through once-more tangled blond hair. He was so very proud of him. Not only for finding the courage to take down Izzac, but also for handling all that had happened to him. His body showed no injuries, but Luke knew that there would be scars on his heart for some time. It was never an easy thing to fire a gun aimed at another man. It wasn’t any easier to find yourself on the opposite side of a line from someone you cared about. Luke had dealt with a similar situation once, when one of his squad friends in Vietnam had turned traitor, and he had been forced to shoot him. It was still a painful memory. Why, oh why did there have to be so much pain involved in battle? And why did Bo have to see it? Luke had fought to keep his cousin from ever having to deal with anything like this. He knew that in time they would both be over it all, but if he could have saved Bo the hurt, he would have done anything.

A jingling from outside interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up as a key turned in the lock. The same guard as before came in, smiling not unkindly. “Come on,” the gray-haired man gestured. “Everything’s settled out, and you’re not guilty of anything besides speeding and maybe disturbing the peace. And you’ve been pardoned of that cause you were helping the law. So quit takin’ up valuable cell space.”

Luke had to smile, tiredly, and glanced back down at Bo, nudging his younger cousin gently. “Bo. Bo, wake up. We can go now.”

The blond teenager raised his head, yawning and blinking sleepily. “Huh? What?”

He stood up, stretching sore muscles. “We can go now. They say we ain’t guilty of anything cause we helped catch a known criminal.”

“Oh. I could have told ’em that.” Bo was looking and sounding more awake now. He followed his cousin’s lead in standing and stretching, letting out another big yawn. “Where’re we goin’?”

“We’ll see. Come on.”

When they walked out into the public office, David Brandon, Caleb Haroldson, Frank Atkins, and Henry Pritchard were waiting for them, along with… “Candy!” Bo grinned, catching the running twelve-year-old as she leapt at him and swinging her up into the air a little ways before putting her feet back on the ground. “You’re okay, right?”

“Course.” She made a face, tossing her hair back. “I should have suspected Jenny from the start.”

Bo sighed, his smile fading. “Don’t blame yourself,” he said softly. “She fooled a lot of people, Candy. Not the least of which was me.”

Luke went over to put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder, squeezing in silent support. Bo’s eyes met his with a slight, sad smile, the expression in them saying that he would be all right.

Brandon cleared his throat and took a single step toward the door. “Let’s get back to the track. The team has a race to win tonight… and you Dukes could use a day’s sleep, looks like.” Without waiting for them to say yes or nay, he took each boy by an arm, and aimed them out the door. Neither put up a protest, glad to leave this place.

Frank took the General Lee, letting the boys relax in the back of Caleb’s sedan. During the drive back to the raceway, Luke explained everything that had happened with Izzac, and Candy chattered indignantly about being jumped from behind and putting up a fight before she was bound to a chair in a dark storeroom. Luke suspected that the story was being embellished upon somewhat, but decided to let the girl have her moment in the spotlight. And Caleb explained just exactly how he had managed to end up involved, about the FBI man who had come to the track looking for someone to help from the inside. When everyone was done talking, there was silence in the car for a bit as everyone tried to comprehend the fact that the whole mess was over with. Finally Bo spoke up, a bit of a surprise seeing as he’d hardly said a thing up until that point.

“What’s gonna happen to Izzac? And… and Jennifer?” His voice was audible, but barely. Everyone looked to Caleb for the answer, and the sandy-haired driver sighed.

“Izzac is gonna go to prison for a very long time, Bo. Probably a life sentence. You see, not only has he smuggled, stolen, and gotten his fingers into every crooked pie in the state, but he’s also been responsible for the deaths of more people over the years than anyone really knows. Including several agents that tried to infiltrate his operation. They’d go in, and…” He waved the hand that wasn’t on the wheel in the air. “Never be heard from again.”

Luke swallowed, thinking about that. He hadn’t realized up until that point just how much danger he had been in. He was kind of glad he hadn’t known; he might have made a mistake somewhere that would have gotten him shot before Bo and the others could show up.

“And Jenny?” the younger Duke asked again.

“She’ll be in jail for several years. But she doesn’t have the charge of manslaughter behind her. Hopefully someday she’ll be able to join society again with a better attitude toward life. That girl was an incredible driver,” Caleb sighed.

Luke had a question of his own. “How did those two end up working together, anyway? Jennifer’s just a kid, and Izzac’s such a top dog.” Then he had a thought. “Unless…”

“Unless?” Brandon raised an eyebrow from the front seat.

“Unless they were connected somehow.” Luke looked at Caleb. “Were they?”

“You ought to join the force, kid, anybody ever tell you that? You’d make great detectives, both of you.”

Bo wrinkled up his nose and chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t work. We don’t follow orders very well.”

“And there is the illegal business you run.” At their startled glances, Caleb smiled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t and won’t tell a soul at the police station.” The Dukes relaxed again. “To answer your question, Luke, yes. Jennifer’s father was Izzac’s brother.”

“You mean he’s her uncle?” Bo asked, wide-eyed.

“Yep. I suppose he felt an… obligation to help her get what she wanted. Maybe it was family feelings, but somehow I doubt it. Whatever reason he had, it was his downfall. It was the first time he’d stooped to working at such a low level, and we were able to find him out. We wouldn’t have without you, though, Bo.”

“Me?” The blond Duke pointed a finger at his chest incredulously. “What did I do?”

“You led everyone straight to Izzac and his operation with that dream you had.” Caleb frowned suddenly, as though he’d just thought of something. “Bo, are you… different in any way? Can you do things like that on a normal basis?”

Suddenly all eyes were on Bo. The teenager looked around nervously, and Luke gave him a small, encouraging smile. Leaning close to his older cousin as if for support, he shook his head. “No. I’ve never been able to see things like that before. And I hope I never do again. I think I was only able to cause Luke was in such danger.”

There was silence for a few seconds, then Henry, who’d been sitting silently on Luke’s other side, spoke up. “There is something different about you though, Bo. I’ve seen it in you from the minute we met. You’re very special. Very young, but very special.”

“And?” Luke challenged protectively.

The older man chuckled. “Put your hackles down, boy. I ain’t out to harm him in any way.” He returned his gaze to Bo. “Just be yourself, kid. Whatever it is exactly that makes you different, don’t try to change it. Being unique can be a wonderful thing.”

Bo sat still for a moment, but then slowly he smiled, chin coming up in… pride, Luke realized with slight surprise. “I know. I’m just me.” His eyes met his cousin’s, the deep blue filled with an unwordable mix of emotions. “I’m glad I’m me.”

Luke had a very hard time not hugging his little cousin close at that moment. He didn’t let threatening tears come, either. But inside, he was filled with a pride and love beyond anything he’d ever known. Bo was growing up. Not in the become-restless, leave-home way; he probably never would. But the older Duke could see a change in him, a steadiness that had never been there before. The eighteen-year-old was beginning to show a self-sufficiency that surprisingly didn’t seem all that incongruous with his gentle, boyish heart. It wasn’t an independence kind of thing… yet Luke suddenly got the feeling that Bo could take care of himself just fine if he had to. “I’m glad you are too,” he finally whispered. “I really am.”

When they got back to their motel room, Luke simply locked the door, removed his boots, and fell onto his bed, intending to ignore the world for the rest of the day. He had to admit, though, that despite the sorrow and fear that the morning had brought, he felt an incredible sense of accomplishment. Brandon and the team were safe; who would have ever thought the blackmailer would have been a girl? The entire city, or was that state, was safe from Izzac and his organization. The Dukes’ ‘vacation’ could become what it was orginally intended to be. The team could race without concern, and Luke could cheer Bo on to whatever victories the young blond could manage.

It was over. Things could get back to normal again. Why was that such a weird thought? Maybe because his whole life wasn’t normal. He smiled and shook his head at himself, then yawned and glanced across the darkened room at Bo, who was sitting on the other bed and looking lost in serious thought.

“Bo,” he said softly. When he caught his cousin’s gaze, he smiled and rolled onto his side. “C’mere.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the younger boy got up and came over, curling into the protective embrace his older cousin offered without a word.

After a few seconds, getting the feeling that Bo wasn’t going to say anything, Luke spoke up again. “You gonna be okay?”

No answer, then finally a tiny nod.

“You know… I’m really very proud of you. You’ve had to live through a lot today. I wish I could change that. But I’m proud of what you’ve done. You stopped Jennifer. You saved my life… twice.”

Bo looked up at him, eyes glimmering with tears. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you. But when will it stop hurting, Lukas?” His voice was small, his attitude not adult at all right now. Luke didn’t care.

“I don’t know when. But it will, little cousin. It will.”

A blink. “You know, you stopped calling me that a long time ago. But you’ve been doing it again the last few days,” a slight smile crept its way onto the eighteen-year-old’s face.

All the older Duke could do was shrug and smile back lopsidedly. “You mind?”

Bo seemed to think about that. “Depends on when. I kinda like it when I’m feeling bad, but the rest of the time please don’t.”

“Sure thing, cuz.”

The young blond rested his head on Luke’s shoulder again, yawning. “I’m tired. Really tired.”

“Me too. What say we just get some sleep and not worry about anything else, huh?”

Another yawn. “Sounds good to me. Can I stay here? With you?”

Luke almost hesitated, but then smiled instead. “Sure. Sure, Bo. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.”

Sighing, the older Duke hugged him, then relaxed, closing his eyes and just being there. He felt Bo’s breathing pattern deepen and slow just before he himself was lost to the world.

Each being a greatly-needed comfort to the other, two wounded soldiers slipped into the welcome arms of peaceful slumber.