I leaned out slightly from behind the wall.
The two of them stood just inside the room, exactly where I'd expected. They wore the same uniform as the others. Black from head to toe with masks covering their faces. They were close in height, both a little taller than Derek's partner. Similar builds too.
I let my gaze drop briefly to the weapons on the floor. Then back to them. It really didn't seem like there were any more weapons on them. Either they were confident… Or they were telling the truth.
Just what was going on? Did they really just want to talk to me? What could they possibly want to tell me?
Straightening slightly, I stepped out from the corridor. I kept my guard up, posture loose enough to move, but steady enough to look comfortable. I needed to find out just exactly what they wanted from me. It would be best to play dumb about what I already knew for now.
"Who are you guys?" I asked.
The second one answered this time. "We can't tell you that."
"What do you want?"
"We also can't tell you that."
I sighed. "So what can you tell me?"
The first one spoke. "All we can say is that you have to come with us. Our boss wants to speak with you."
Boss. That meant the branch manager right? And he wanted to see me in person.
"Why does he want to talk to me?"
The other one spoke again. "Look, we have no idea," she said, her tone laced with frustration, clearly the more impatient of the two. "So stop making this difficult and just come with us."
Before I could respond, the first one struck her arm. She shot her a scathing look. The second woman stiffened, then looked away, shoulders drawing in slightly. The message was received. That pretty much showed the hierarchy between them. The first one turned back to me.
"I apologize for my colleague's tone," she said, almost sounding sincere. "But the message remains the same. You need to come with us. Only then will your questions be answered."
My decision had already been made a while ago. I was heading down anyway. If it was a trap, I trusted my senses to detect anything out of place. As long as they weren't on rox, then I could manage. However, if it wasn't a trap, then this would be the fastest way to get the answers I wanted.
I spared a quick glance at Caitlin in the corner. She had been staring intently at me this whole time. I gave her a small wink then turned away. It wasn't much but it should've been enough to let her know that something was about to go down.
"Fine," I said to the two women. "Turn around slowly and lead the way. No funny business. I wouldn't want to jump to unfortunate conclusions."
"Alright." They complied. Both of them turning toward the door.
And just like that, they gave me their backs. That confirmed it. They were amateurs. Real fighters would never completely turn their backs to an enemy no matter the situation.
I would show them why.
They almost had the door open. I watched the shift in their shoulders. The subtle release of tension. Both weapons left my hands. Trent dropped to the ground as Lloyd flew through the air.
The sound of metal hitting the floor was soft, barely more than a dull clink. It coincided with the sound of Lloyd biting through flesh.
It penetrated into the back of the second woman, just beneath the shoulder blade.
Her body seized. The noise that escaped her wasn't a scream at first. More like the air had been ripped out of her lungs before the pain caught up.
I closed the gap instantly. The first woman had just started to turn when I reached her. There was a flicker of realization in her eyes.
She wasn't fast enough.
My fist connected with her jaw. The impact snapped her head sideways, her body turning with it. I stepped in, closing the space before she could recover, and drove my knee into her midsection. Air burst out of her as she folded forward. Completing the sequence, my elbow came down hard across the back of her neck.
Her legs buckled.
I didn't let her fall. Another punch, this time to her stomach. A kick to the thigh. A sharp strike to the side of her head. Each one landed before she could even think to defend.
She tried to raise her arms.
I shifted my weight and thrust my foot straight into her chest.
The force flung her backward. Her body hit the door with a heavy thud, the impact rattling the frame.
She didn't stay down for long.
She pushed herself up almost immediately, breath uneven but eyes still focused. Her movements were rough, but there was some wild strength in them.
My gaze flicked past her. The second one was still on the ground, writhing, one hand clawing weakly at Lloyd embedded in her back. Her partner staggered toward her. I thought she might try to help her up. Instead, she grabbed the weapon and pulled. It came free with a wet, tearing sound. The one on the ground cried out, her body jerking violently as Lloyd left her. The one standing didn't hesitate.
She turned and rushed me.
There was no technique in it. Just anger, pain and desperation. Her arm swung wide, a savage strike meant to take my head off.
I simply stepped aside, almost disappointed at how easy it was to dodge. The power of the swing disrupted her balance, carrying her forward just a little too far and providing a single opening.
It was more than enough.
A quick combination followed. One punch to the ribs. Then a second one. Short, tight strikes that sank deep before she could even react. My left hand snapped upward, catching her across the cheek in a vicious slap. Droplets of blood spurted from her mouth as her posture broke further, whatever structure she had left collapsing completely.
She tried to retaliate. Her arm twitched, starting another swing.
But it was too late. The fight was already over.
I dipped slightly, drawing power from my legs—what little they had—and launched my fist upward.
The uppercut landed clean.
Her head snapped back violently and her body went slack mid-motion, the momentum of her charge carrying her a half step forward before everything gave out.
She collapsed at my feet. Lloyd slipped from her hand as she hit the ground, skidding slightly across the floor. I just stood there for a second, steadying my breathing, trying to confirm if she was truly out.
Without a doubt, she was.
The dull ache in my body crept back in, stronger now. My legs felt heavier, the earlier numbness giving way to something deeper. But it was fine. There was only one person left that I had to deal with. I bent and picked up Lloyd, twirling it once for balance.
The second woman was still alive. Barely.
She lay on her side, body trembling. Blood pooled beneath her, spreading slowly across the dark floor. One hand pressed weakly against the wound in her back, fingers slick and useless.
I walked over.
She flinched when I grabbed her. Not much strength behind it. I hauled her up by the collar, dragging her to her feet. Her legs barely held her weight, her body sagging forward as a weak sound escaped her throat. I looked into her eyes and saw it.
The same look I saw when I killed Iris. And again when Derek's partner had pleaded for his life. That moment when it finally settled in. The understanding—no, the certainty—that they were going to die. Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something. Beg. Plead. It didn't matter. Unfortunately for her, I didn't need both of them.
I raised Lloyd. The blade angled above her head, ready to come down.
That was when I heard it.
"Stop!"
The voice cut through the room.
I froze. My eyes flicked upward, scanning instinctively for the source. Nothing. Just the walls, the ceiling… and the speakers.
"Stop!" They repeated. "Do not kill her!"
It came from the PA system.
Slowly, I lowered Lloyd. This voice… It had to be one of the members of the order. Maybe even the branch manager. So they had access to the sound systems all this time? And he had been watching us. Why was he just using it now? He didn't speak when I started attacking them or when we came down to the basement. Why?
My hold loosened around the collar. I looked over at Caitlin, still in the corner. Her expression mirrored mine. She was just as confused as I was.
"Who are you?" I asked, brushing aside the other questions.
"I'm the one they answer to." The voice promptly responded. "I sent them to bring you over to me. Let them go right now."
I readjusted my grip on the woman's collar, giving her a slight shake. Her body barely responded. "Now why should I do that?"
A brief pause.
"Because I also have someone you are interested in keeping alive."
There were sudden sounds of movement and resistance. Someone was struggling.
Then came a guttural scream.
"Come now director," the voice sneered. "Say hello to the officer."
Another voice broke through. Weak. Strained. "Don't listen—"
The words cut off. Replaced by a deeper, sharper scream. Something twisted in my gut.
There was another sound underneath it. Softer. I walked back to the corridor, dragging the bleeding woman with me. I arrived to see Caitlin sobbing in the corner, her back pressed to the wall, shoulders shaking. Tears streamed down her face as she tried, and failed, to keep quiet. Her eyes met mine and there was no hiding it. A deep, immense sorrow that I failed to understand.
That was enough.
"Alright!" I called out, cutting through the noise. "Fine. I won't kill them. Happy?"
The screams stopped. Abruptly. Fading into uneven breathing… then muffled sobs.
The voice returned.
"I'm glad that we could come to an understanding," he said. "Now, if you want this man alive you will do as I say."
Marshals didn't negotiate with criminals. That was the rule. Everyone knew it. I knew it. But rules didn't account for this. For variables like him. I could hear it in his voice. None of this had gone according to his plan. He was cornered. His people were down. His control slipping by the minute. At this point, he had little to lose. Men like that didn't fold. They broke everything around them.
In any other situation, I might have considered letting the director die. We aren't heroes. Not everyone can be saved. That was reality. Anyone who thought otherwise couldn't last long in this field. Besides, from the way he sounded, the director was pretty much already at death's door.
But…
There was something about the way Caitlin looked at me that left a bad taste in my mouth. All that raw emotion made me rethink that choice. I decided to at least try. I would play along to save the director's life.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Come meet me at the lowest level. Now," he replied, then quickly added. "Make sure to come alone."
"Fine."
I dropped the woman and went over to pick up Trent. After resecuring the two weapons to my hips, I grabbed both women by an arm and dragged them into the corridor with me, creating a smudged trail of blood on the floor.
Caitlin had stood up now. She wiped at her face again, trying to steady herself, but her shoulders still trembled. I stopped in front of her. Gave her a moment.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
She nodded. The image of her face as the director was tortured, popped back into my head. That wasn't normal. The way she reacted, it was as if she could feel what he felt herself. It was curious to say the least.
But I did not probe.
My gaze moved to the controls of the safe room door. "Can you open it?"
"No," she sniffled. "Once people are inside, it can only be opened from within."
"Then how do we—"
"I can talk to anyone inside through the interface."
"Oh. Then you do that."
She walked over to the door, her hands still slightly unsteady as she activated it. The voice came on the speakers again.
"What are you doing?" he asked in anger. "I told you to–"
"You told me not to kill them." I lifted the arm of the still bleeding girl. "She won't last a minute in her condition. We're going to have to stabilize her."
I lowered the arm. "Unless her life is no longer a priority to you?"
He didn't respond immediately, considering it. A few seconds later, there was a quiet exhale over the speakers.
"Fine, but no games."
There was a grunt of agony. The director. It was a reminder.
"I still have him," the voice continued, colder now.
"Do not fuck with me."