It was prepared, in other words.

Carmody nodded at the guard, and they stepped past him to a large steel door. It was a foot thick and insulated for fire protection. The metal security notices on and above it stated no unauthorized personnel were permitted into the area beyond. A key code and biometric identification were required for entry.

Carmody touched his thumb to the reader and tapped in the code. He and Musil walked through.

Each of the rooms lining the corridor beyond required additional biometric entry. Equipment storage was a broad category, but they were designed according to a similar interior blueprint. Their shelving and cabinets were mounted onto motor-powered, cantilevered carriage and rail systems, so there were no fixed aisles. Touch-pad controls on the face panels of the shelves moved the units together and apart like huge metal book covers. Some of the rooms were filled with advanced communications, surveillance and computing technology.

Carol Morse, Dixon, Schultz, Kali and Natasha Mori were waiting in the Terminal’s armory. Its stainless steel shelves pulled out and opened wide and shifted around to reveal racks and cabinets designed for long guns, assault rifles, explosive projectile weapons and pistols. There was a steel armorer’s desk and workbench. There was shelving stacked with cases of ammunition. There was an explosives storage unit. An optics unit. A walk-in unit containing body armor.

Carmody entered a step ahead of Musil and looked at everyone’s faces.

“Gang’s all here,” he said.

The black Rhino GX SUV arrived at Great Circle’s private terminal at a quarter past nine. The edge lights were on along the runway, and the Falcon sat warming up in the brightness of the floods.

The Rhino rolled up onto the apron, coming almost planeside before it stopped. Carmody and his group got out the rear, Morse staying in front with the driver.

Outside the aircraft, DeBattista was talking to a couple of his mechanics and the driver of a wheeled cargo belt loader. He broke off his conversation as Carmody walked up to him.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming.” DeBattista pinched his arm. “You actually showed on time.”

Carmody looked at him. “I wish you liked me better.”

“Ask me if I give a shit,” DeBattista said. “So what’s going aboard with you?”

“A couple wooden crates. A few small bags.”

“What’s in the bags?”

“Mostly clothes.”

“And the crates?”

“Odds and ends.”

DeBattista looked over at the group standing by the Rhino.

“I didn’t know Dixon and Schultz were with you.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Who are the other ones?”

“Friends.”

DeBattista’s gaze held on Kali. “I like the friend with the dark hair.”

“Put your eyes back in your head,” Carmody said. “You’ll need them to fly the plane.”

“She the one who lets you ride her motorcycle?”

“She did.”

“Don’t tell me.”

Carmody shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

DeBattista looked at him.