Ames wasn’t sure if he was a hired thief or a hired assassin. For this job, he supposed he would be both. He wasn’t happy about the he was far from home, freezing cold, and teamed with people he neither liked nor trusted. And, this morning, he had found an anonymous note in his coat pocket suggesting that he might soon be the hunted rather than the hunter.
But it was too late to back out. It was time, and—pleased or not—here he was, armed and ready and sitting in the dark at the killing ground, silently watching the window of his soon-to-be victim. What Ames didn’t know was that someone in that window was watching him as well, and that before this night was over there would be more than one victim.
