"Take your armed convoy and leave this city."
Malcolm spoke into his desktop microphone. His flat voice blasted from the external security speakers mounted above the bunker.
Richard Mercer stood alone in the howling night blizzard. Knee deep snow buried his polished winter boots.
Richard smiled a warm paternal smile.
He raised both of his hands into the freezing air. He showed his open palms to the primary security camera. He proved he carried no weapons.
"Stand down and fall back," Richard shouted over his shoulder.
The dozen tactical guards hesitated. They held their loaded assault rifles tight against their chests.
"I said fall back," Richard commanded with sharp authority.
The guards lowered their weapons. They retreated twenty yards back toward the idling snow crawlers. They
