Witness Protection gave us new names. The cartel didn't forget the old ones.
As a retired businessman with a government-issued identity and a slight limp, I tried to blend in as a hunting guide near Raton, New Mexico. Mary cooks for the lodge, keeps the cabins spotless, and for a little while, we almost believe the Feds when they say we are safe.
Then I come down out of the hills and find our cabin wrecked and my wife gone. Left behind, a note about one of mine for one of theirs and the cold certainty that the men I crossed back in Alabama had found us.
The cartel wants me dead. My name on the paperwork may have changed, but in my head, I am still Warren Hapner. This time, my new hobby is freeing my wife and hunting down the people who thought they could steal my life twice.