Stranded In A Montana Blizzard, I Found Help Where I Least Expected

“That’s a predator’s call. He’s trying to flush the brush.”

Marcus stood, scanning the perimeter. Dark silhouettes moved between the cedars—not state troopers, but Diego’s “brothers” from the force, men who owed him favors.

“They’ve got us surrounded,” Hammer reported.

Marcus looked at Elena, the weight of his past failure and his absolute refusal to continue reading …