Seeing it was hopeless, Leonard slammed the roll-up door and latched it. “Let’s just do this before I change my mind.” He retrieved a helmet with a dark visor from the front seat of the pickup and handed it to his brother. Ernie pulled it on, swung his leg over the motorcycle, and pressed the starter button. Its four-stroke motor hummed to life in a deep-throated rumble. His brother nodded. He climbed into the UPS truck and pulled away from the loading dock, heading for Kern Parkway. He was sorely tempted to drive in the opposite direction and never look back. He thought back to the raid at the compound and had to admit seeing Sammy’s lifeless eyes had hammered him. His youngest brother, someone he’d sworn to insulate and protect, was dead. Murdered. By a sniper, and a damned good one at that. Leonard hadn’t wanted to involve Sammy in Freedom’s Echo, but Ernie had talked him into it. He should’ve known better, should’ve known something like this would happen. And now they were about to raise the stakes.

He forced his mind back to the task at hand and merged into traffic. In the side mirror, he watched his brother gun the motorcycle’s engine to keep up. He scanned the traffic in both directions, looking for cops. Close to his destination, he turned right and slowed. Behind him, Ernie pulled over to the curb and stopped. He drove the brown delivery truck into a driveway and rolled to a stop at a guard shack with an automatic gate.

His hand on the butt of his gun, a security guard, sharply dressed in a blue uniform, came out of the shack and approached the UPS truck.

“Where’s Malcolm?” the guard asked. Then he smiled. “Too many beers last night?”

“Couldn’t say,” Leonard said. “Probably got a case of the flu.”

“Yeah, it’s been going around lately. Since I’ve never seen you before, I’ll have to ask for some ID.”

“No problem, glad to do it.” Keeping his head down so the bill of his cap covered his face, Leonard climbed out of the jumper seat and walked around the front of the truck. A few more paces and he’d be out of the camera’s line of sight. Before the guard could react, he pulled a .45-automatic from his jacket and pressed it into the guard’s belly. “Open the gate and you’ll live to see another day.” In one smooth movement, he removed the guard’s gun, shoved him back toward the shack’s entrance, and pushed him through its open door. Staggering backward, the guard lost his balance and fell with a grunt.

Leonard jammed the barrel of his automatic into the guard’s mouth and pushed until the man’s head met the cabinet under the counter. “Open the gate right now.”