Icy air wafted over him, and he fought back a shiver only partially caused by the low temperatures. All talk stopped the moment he entered, and a dozen faces went grim as death, hands darting below table tops and into jackets. Two Bears knew the only reason he was still sucking air was the city map in his pocket, a reminder of the Miami gov’s fire-bombing of anybody who harmed tourists. Even still, he was on thin ice here. Cross the line, drek, come close to the line and they’d be mopping his brains off the floor.