R.I.P.C.Ord.

Michigan knows she’s screwed. She hasn’t heard from her operatives in days. Though they are deep in the Colombian jungle it’s a sign something has gone wrong. Silence is worse than a cry for help. Their mark was a crook and a plunderer, a man whose life she would have gladly extinguished herself and should have. And she felt it again, like an icepick pressed ever so delicately against her skull, the feeling that she had been duped. Mansotti , the man who hired her with the lofty mission as an environmental assassin, and her sole source of intel, isn’t being his normal self and now she has to hide.

To make matters worse, this Detective Belpaxton is in her way. Cops are different than military men, looser and more wily, and this one seems to be smarter than most. If she could only point him in the right direction without implicating herself. If she could only point herself in the right direction without getting killed.