Ice studied Gage. He stood six feet nine inches tall and probably weighed three hundred pounds. He’d done some boxing and worked as a bouncer before Cyrus hired him. He was a scrapper, but he didn’t read people very well. He could at least serve as a distraction, though. He’d get Ice through that first gate. Maybe the fake order would work, maybe it wouldn’t. But scorched earth covered a lot of ground, and things could get ugly if the one Fed put up any kind of resistance.

In spite of the simplistic plan, Ice found himself smiling. Yes, this could work. It wasn’t the first time someone would be stepping in front of him. The point person usually took the first bullet.

He nodded. “Okay, let me tell you about this shelter.”

Ice explained everything he knew. He drew a crude map of what he had seen on his brief recon trip, then dressed in his best jeans, set aside his work boots for a pair of shoes, put on the body armor Gage had brought for him, and armed himself. Ice normally hated anything that restricted his movement, but the vest could come in handy.

Gage had also brought an assortment of weapons, and since this might be a scorched-earth situation, Ice put away his favorite weapon, his shiny .357 revolver. He picked up a couple of 9mm automatics that Gage had brought because the clips each held fifteen rounds. He hadn’t loaded the clips, so none of his prints would be on the casings. He put one in a belt holster and the other in a shoulder holster. Then, for security, he put his little .38 revolver in an ankle holster. Lastly, he jammed a box of extra ammo in his pocket. He wasn’t wearing a suit, but with his close-cropped hair and a close shave, he was certain he’d pass as an agent.

When they were ready, he took his belongings and climbed into Gage’s rental car. It was a nice ride, a top-of-the-line Dodge Charger. He’d seen Fed cars like this, so that was a good thing. But for Ice the biggest perk of this ride was that it would make a good getaway car, impervious to the cold and spitting rain. Despite the dark day and storm clouds, Ice put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

Gage drove leisurely, and when they reached the gate to the shelter a little after 8:15 a.m., he punched the intercom button, placed his fake ID up to the small monitor.

Ice straightened his sunglasses and held his breath, knowing that they’d only get one shot at this.

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