The bitter wind cut like a Red Cap dagger as it swept through the sleepy town of Salamanca. If Renato Angeles felt it knife through his body, he showed no reaction. His midnight black hair whipped haphazardly around his head. It irritated the straight-laced architect enough that he relented and tied it back. The watch on his wrist chimed, updating the retired Filipino of the new hour. Most people would be asleep at this time, but his sixth sense told him something was amiss. While his badge had been turned in several years ago in favor of less violent pursuits of the common good, Ren could not push the nagging feelings away. He folded his arm