The Loner [antikvár]

PrologueThe night was black and moonless, the air so still you could hear the insects crawling in the thick vegetation of the surrounding jungle. Sweat trickling down his neck and back, Dillon Cassidy stood as still as death at the edge of the trees, his gray eyes trained unwaveringly on the small cabin that sat in the middle of the clearing that had been hacked out of the South American wilderness. Carlos Santiago was in there, holed up like the snake that he was, just daring anyone to come in after him. Dillon was just the man to do it.Two years, he thought coldly. He'd been tracking the bastard for two years, three months and twenty-one days. Some marriages didn't last that long. And up until tonight, he'd had nothing to show for it but missed chances and lost opportunities. And death. Wherever Carlos Santiago went, he left death in his wake. Following his trail of corpses through the U.S. and the banana republics of Central America, always a step behind him and a day late, Dillon had grown to hate the sound of the man's name.