Cicero turned slowly to glare at Hall, and the giant man turned away as though struck in the face. Cicero was perhaps the only man on earth other than Cormack who could intimidate John Hall.

“Just seems weird,” he said. He took a step toward the marshes, and Cormack wondered whether the man might start running out along the frozen mud to escape Cicero’s ire. At that moment, though, there came a rustling along the path, and the three of them moved quickly and quietly toward the mouth of the clearing, which blocked anyone walking along the path from seeing them.

They plastered themselves against a tree and a snow-covered bush at the edge of the clearing as they listened to the footfalls coming down the path. Cormack’s heart started beating as he realized that there was more than one set of footfalls. It sounded like multiple people, and there was heavy breathing. He and Hall took the point, ready to attack.

“I thought it was just one guy,” Hall hissed, and Cicero shot him a look that made him shut his mouth immediately.

“There could be more,” Cicero said. “We take them all out, but keep the target alive.”

The men on the path were close, now, and Cormack gripped the club he’d brought with him. Both Cicero and Hall had guns, but Cormack didn’t want the man killed. The goal was to take their target alive. Information was the key.

The panting of the men on the path was loud. Cormack readied himself, and raised the club up to strike.

A figure passed by, but it wasn’t a man. It was an older woman in a heavy coat. She held a leash, and at the end of the leash was a large, ancient dog of indeterminate breed. She spun as she sensed Cormack’s presence, and he barely got his club down before she could see it. He turned to make sure both Hall and Andolini still had their guns in their pockets.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” The woman exclaimed. “I didn’t see you there! You nearly scared the life out of me!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Cormack said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you did,” she said. She shook her head as though regaining her senses. The dog, out of breath and panting in the cold, lumbered over to give Cormack a disinterested sniff. “Charlie, no!” the woman barked at the dog, pulling on his leash to get him away from Cormack. The dog looked over his shoulder. The woman was too small to actually move the dog, but after a moment Charlie complied. “I thought I was the only person crazy enough to be out in this cold!” the woman continued.

Cormack gave her his most charming smile. “What cold?” he said.