truck," Cole told him. "Sold it before I sold Moe. Full of JP-4. Kerosene. Heating oil-—"
Oliver nodded. "People pay a lot for heating oil and they don't ask questions."
Alex blew a cloud of breath into the chill air. "No, I don't suppose they do." He had a sudden, wild image of Cole, his eyes glowing crazy, careening Moe around the streets of Chicago, making clandestine midnight deliveries of black market heating oil. It was a hell of a planet.
* * *
Bruce was a SMOF. He made a list. SMOFs always make lists.
Sherrine sat on the floor next to Steve, with her knees drawn up under her chin and wondered if she would ever see Gordon and Alex again. She pictured Phoenix soaring skyward on