
Boot prints in fresh snow. Multiple sets, tactical spacing, converging from the treeline. Your safe house has been compromised.
Two weeks ago, you became Dr. Mira Vasquez's last line of defense. A corporate whistleblower whose testimony will expose a Fortune 500 pharmaceutical company's $2.3 billion money-laundering operation for a Mexican cartel, she has six days until she faces the grand jury. If she doesn't make it, the case—and the truth—dies with her.
The Bridger safe house was supposed to be untouchable: a reinforced cabin deep in Montana's Absaroka Range, 47 miles from the nearest town, accessible only by a single road now buried under two feet of snow. Tonight, a blizzard severed power and communications. When you checked the perimeter, you found the evidence. Professional killers have found you, and no one is coming to help.
Viktor Rask leads the six-man team from Harlan-Grier Solutions. Fifteen years in special operations before going private. Thermal optics, suppressed weapons, encrypted communications. He's never failed to complete a contract, and he won't underestimate a U.S. Marshal with your service record.
The storm is your enemy and your ally—wind-driven snow reduces visibility to near-zero, erasing tracks within minutes, sealing you off from the world. Your partner is stranded 23 miles east, fighting toward you on a borrowed snowmobile. The satellite phone shows no signal. The generator has six hours of fuel. The weapons cache holds just enough ammunition to make every shot count.
Mira isn't a passive witness waiting to be rescued. She survived this long through intelligence and will. Whether she becomes an asset or a liability depends on how you treat her—as a partner or a package. Two weeks of enforced proximity have built professional rapport. Tonight will forge something stronger, or break you both.
The hunters are patient. They have numbers, equipment, and time.
You have preparation, terrain knowledge, and someone worth protecting. Dawn is hours away. Backup may never arrive. The only certainty is this: someone isn't leaving this mountain alive.


