Prologue

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The smoldering weather in the caldera that was Yellowstone National Park was only helped by the fast-paced wind that rushed through the trees and the plumes of sulfuric steam wafting from the geysers and vents in the ground. Tourists walked around, listening with half an ear to the park rangers who were talking, spewing facts at the people in their tour group.

Farther back, a man was walking slowly, nervously, gazing at the geysers in feigned interest. He could clearly read the signs around him that said "Caution: this area is thermal, stay on walkways." He swallowed thickly, glancing back behind and clutched at the pocket of his worn-out jeans. 'Good, it's still there.'

Suddenly, from behind him, he heard footsteps. They were almost militant in rhythm. Then, a bark in a foreign language. They had found him, how he was unsure but they had. He started moving faster, hoping to evade them. 'Too late' he thought as he heard the footsteps rushing towards him.

He broke into a sprint.

"Halt", a heavily accented voice ordered, shouting at the man.

The man was incredulous, they were chasing and trying to kill him and they thought that telling him to stop was going to work? Now he had seen everything.

A loose plank in the pathway above the geysers caught his foot and he was sent tumbling. Body-slamming into a young women, sending them both down onto the planks of wood.

He pushed himself up glanced at the women, she was college-aged and petite, the top of her head reaching his shoulders. If he wasn't busy running for his life he would've stopped to apologise, but instead he leaned forward, slipping the object in his pocket into her hand and bolted.

At least it was safe. For now.

The footsteps were closer now and he was having difficulty fighting the crowd of oblivious people around.

He didn't get far.

A large hand grabbed his shoulder roughly, jerking him to a halt. "You will halt", the voice growled. The hand shoved him towards the edge of the pathway.

Teetering on the edge, he glanced down, a steep slope lead to a deep pool of acidic water and to the side a sign.  "Caution: this area is thermal, stay on walkways."

He tried to regain his balance but the hand pressed forward,  shoving him off the walk. He slid, fighting the pull of gravity as it carried him towards the toxic pool at the bottom of the slope.

Right before he fell in, he glanced up and saw the person chasing him. They raised a small, compact gun, the barrel extended by a high-tech silencer and fired. The impact send him the last few inches and he slid into the pit.

He could hear his chaser mutter a phrase in a different tongue.

He remembered nothing else.

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