the smuggler’s bible


Cotillion, the elite assassin, pulls the black watch cap low over his ears, then slides through the skylight. He lands lightly on a thick rug in somebody’s library. Sous-vide hands down the bundle

“Who builds something this posh on the side of a mountain?” he says, coming through.

“A man who intends never to leave.”

“Well, that’s foolish. Everybody leaves eventually.”

“Indeed they do,” Cotillion says, pulling the rifle off his shoulder and working the action. “Indeed they do.” He steps out into the hallway and Sous-vide follows. Behind them, snow begins to fall through the open window, drifting slowly.