The Pennsylvania border. An abandoned gas station off Highway 30.
The blizzard was even worse than it had been three nights ago.
The wind whipped pellets of snow against the car window, scraping like sandpaper.
Joe Miller sat in the command vehicle, watching as rows of fully armed SWAT officers leaped from armored personnel carriers.
They wore black tactical vests, the night-vision goggles on their helmets glowing green. The safeties on their assault rifles were already off.
This time, there would be no mercy. No turning a blind eye.
It was an unequivocal order from Leo Wallace himself: excise the tumor.
"Move in."
Miller spoke the command into his radio.
The SWAT team moved quickly, surrounding the convenience store, which glowed with a faint light.
A battering ram slammed into the glass door with a tremendous CRASH.
"Police! Search warrant!"
"Get down! Everyone on the ground!"
