
Agent K stands a top the distillery roof,
his golden rifle rising above him.
The Wrecker is big, but extremely fast. K
has studied the intel. He moves quick and
disappears even quicker. He knows it’s only
one shot; then the Wrecker will be next to
him and that will be it. His rifle has never
failed him and it won’t start tonight. The
Wrecker and his crew have terrorised
small Kentucky distilleries for too long. K
has hunted him for months, always a step
behind, always a little off his mark. He’s
just too fast.
Tonight’s the night. The hunt and the
target, the moon and smell of moonshine
all fuse into a single moment. And it all
happens, you guessed it, too fast.