hunching his shoulders against the cold, pelting rain, phil slipped a hand under his caped coat to assure himself that his spare pistol remained in position. a sudden gust of wind rattled rain upon his campaign hat and spattered his face and hands. desperately tired and carrying the gnawing hunger from three missed meals, he glanced back along the road at the scattered friends. they were an army no longer; like himself they were just tired men returning to homes left long ago. once they had marched with the proud steps of men with a mission to be accomplished; now they plodded wearily, heads down against the rain, thinking only of home. during one year of almost continual warfare with comanches, kiowas, and border bandits. their fighting skills' advancement was rapid, but now it was time to finish. the final part of the mission showed once again what the incredible three stand for: a fast, heavily distorted bassy beat track with tim on vocals and a slower (but still har