The blizzard screamed against the timber walls of the abandoned logging cabin near Lake Placid. Inside, Elena knelt before a small cast-iron woodstove, rubbing her freezing hands over the glowing embers. On the crude wooden table behind her lay a heavy steel lockbox she had successfully extracted from Vance's warehouse two hours earlier. Her clothes were damp with melted snow, her body exhausted to the bone. Suddenly, the night air…
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