Mercenary's Perfect Mission. Carla Cassidy

the moment he’d left the safe house.

      By the time he’d reached the outskirts of town, complete darkness had fallen. When evening came and the nightly workshop that Samuel gave was over, most people vacated the streets of Cold Plains quickly, except the men on Samuel’s payroll, men seeking those who worked against Samuel.

      At this time of night, Main Street looked almost magical. Even in the bright light of day, there was sheen to the storefronts and they weren’t the kind of stores you’d see in most average small Wyoming towns.

      In most little towns, you’d expect to see a well-worn café with mismatched glasses and silverware, a general store where items were slightly dusty on the shelves and maybe a gas station where you could still get your windows washed by a friendly attendant.

      Cold Plains was a different animal altogether, thanks to Samuel. There was a health club, a book store, a fancy vegetarian restaurant and the large Community Center. The facades were clean and colorful, breathing of a prosperity that was both inviting and insidiously seductive.

      Micah knew that his brother used cult psychology not only to control those who were already under his influence, but also to recruit and bring in new members who could serve him.