Page 232 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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But it’s the man in front that matters.

Late forties.

Sharp eyes.

No wasted movement.

The kind of man who doesn’t raise his voice—

Because he never needs to.

He takes one look around the Tavern.

Takes in the bodies.

The weapons.

The tension.

Then his gaze lands on me. I’m standing in front of the others.

And stays there.

“Which one of you is in charge?” he asks.

I step forward.

“We are all equal.”

His eyes flicker.

Assessing.

Measuring.

Then he nods slightly.

“Good,” he says. “That makes this easier.”

I don’t move.

Don’t relax.

“Depends what you’re here for,” I reply.

A faint smile touches his mouth.

Not friendly.

Not even close.

“We’ll be taking over from here.”

There it is.

The line.

The one that changes everything.

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