"So does Billy know you're out here in the woods, playing commando?" LeBeau asked Joe.

One of his guys began to walk towards Ben to take the money at the same time Ben began to walk towards him with the cash. Joe titled his cap -- a grey newsboy-- back on his head at a jaunty angle. To the rest of the group it was the sign to get ready. Ben had just handed the bag to LeBeau's guy, Stone was his name. The two men were already retreating back to their respective sides as if there was an invisible chasm between Joe and LeBeau. There was a tension in the air. More than the usual hand off tension that Joe knew well. As soon as he'd titled his cap, his side had become on edge and he could feel it. He hoped like hell LeBeau and his guys couldn't feel it as well.

"Billy knows," Joe said with a grin. "He knows all about this. He's hard as a fucking rock over it. Billy loves his country. How about you, Mikey? What do you love?"

"Money," said LeBeau. He looked down into the bag and smiled before turning to Joe. "This is what I love."

It was time. 

"Of course you do, [i]comrade[/i]."

He said it without edge or force. It was just a neutral statement, but LeBeau had recoiled like Joe had slapped him across the face. 

"What the fuck did you just say?" asked LeBeau.

Joe went for the pistol tucked into his waistband just as LeBeau and his guys started going for their weapons. Joe pulled out his Beretta, and that's when all hell broke loose.