The helicopter's rotor wash flattened the grass as it touched down on the mountain ridge. Stone stepped out first, his boots crunching on the frozen ground. The air was thin and cold, biting at his exposed skin. Behind him, Wrench and Elena followed, their faces pale with exhaustion.
The safe house was a small cabin, hidden in a narrow valley between two peaks. Its windows were dark, its chimney cold. Stone moved through the snow, his pistol drawn, his eyes scanning for threats.
"She's not here," Wrench said, his voice tight. "The place is dead."
Stone moved to the cabin door, his hand on the handle. He pushed it open, moving through the doorway with practiced efficiency.
The cabin was empty. The furniture was covered in dust, the fireplace cold, the kitchen bare. There was no sign of
