Biff was having some drinks at the bar, checking out the place. He wanted to be one of the locals, not just one of the guys that hangs with “high command.” Plus, he knew there were rumors about the Border Freedom Force being terrorists and he knew getting drunk with people would dispel some of those rumors.
Unfortunately, Biff had never been one to drink. Two drinks in and he was drunk. He was on his third when he saw McIvinson started getting drinks together. As Grim and Lurtor came in, he greeted each of them with a nod and finished his drink. McIvinson then mentioned something about white furs and some mine to protect. Biff chuckled, and muttered while standing up, “Friends! The the best way to to protect something that the enemy expects to be a certain way is to change it completely.” He looked beyond everyone, as if painting a picture in his mind, " Where there were hills, make valleys. Where there were rivers, make roads, and where there were trees, make plains." Biff was almost eloquent, but then burped and lost his train of thought.
“And the same for the other stuff too! Ha! Also, since we’re in a tundra, so use that to our advantage. There’s nothing to hide behind, so all you have to do is elevate the entrance…make it harder to attack on foot. You’d have to fly in, which would be easier to see and track. Also, make a few fake entrances, into empty caverns filled with traps. And in the real mine…” He hiccuped, “make passageways to nowhere. CONFUSE the enemy…” He swayed back and forth, “and use the land as… your greatest…what was I saying?” He grabbed a drink that was obviously not for him and drank it. He then sat down abruptly, almost upending the stool in the process, and slammed the beer down.
He then lifted his finger up in the air, as if to say something else. But didn’t.