Squinting, he glanced up into a sky sullen and gray though it was only four in the afternoon. But the stark whiteness of endless snow that covered the rugged mountain area kept visibility decent. He stepped closer to the protection of the cabin’s sidewall, taking a moment to catch his breath. Removing his leather gloves, he shoved them into his pockets and bent his head to light a cigarette, drawing deeply. The trek up the mountain road hadn’t been easy, even for someone as physically fit as Nick Russo. How the old man had managed it, he’d never know. Driven on by adrenaline, Nick guessed. He took another drag on his cigarette, pleased with his own cleverness. He’d sensed days ago that the old geezer would lead him to the girl, and he had. Some people thought Nick was irresponsible and a hothead. Today, he’d prove them wrong, prove he was cool and in control. Sam would be proud. Nick glanced toward the gate he’d had to shove open after shooting off the lock.
