Matt didn’t let him finish. The manacle-weighted chain whipped out, catching Porter’s temple. Before he could recover, Matt had the length wrapped around his throat, pulling tight.
“The keys,” Matt growled, his voice rough with disgust and rage. Blood from his raw wrists dripped down the chain.
Porter’s eyes blazed with a terrible mixture of fear and arousal. “Magnificent,” he choked out. “Everything I knew you’d be—” The chain tightened, cutting off his words.
“Keys. Now.”
Porter fumbled at his pocket with trembling fingers, his face flushed purple. The keys clattered to the floor. Matt kicked Porter’s legs out from under him, sending him face-first into the concrete. In seconds, he had Porter secured with his own zip ties, pulling them extra tight.
A quick search yielded Porter’s phone, key card, and a tablet showing security feeds. Three guards in the hall, two at the stairs, the rest scattered throughout what looked like a warehouse complex. Matt’s lips curved into a predatory smile. Time to go hunting.
The first guard never saw him coming. Matt emerged from the shadows like a nightmare, chain whipping out to wrap around the man’s throat. He went down silently. The second guard managed a surprised grunt before Matt’s fist connected with his solar plexus, doubling him over. The third drew his weapon, but Matt was already moving. The gun went flying as Matt swept the man’s legs, following through with a precise strike to the temple.
The stairwell guards were more prepared. Matt heard them coming—boots on metal steps, the click of weapons beingreadied. He pressed against the wall, waiting. The first guard rounded the corner, gun leading.
Matt moved like liquid shadow. He grabbed the gun hand, twisting sharply. Bones snapped. The guard’s scream was cut short by Matt’s elbow connecting with his throat. The second guard opened fire, bullets sparking off concrete. Matt used the first guard as a shield, then launched him into his partner. Both went tumbling down the stairs.
His ribs protested as he bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time. A bullet grazed his shoulder, tearing fabric and flesh. Matt spun, chain lashing out. The weighted end caught the shooter in the face. Blood sprayed.
The electrical room door was marked with faded yellow paint. Inside, the hum of machinery filled the air. Matt smiled grimly, remembering Porter’s proud rambling about the building’s “redundant systems.” The backup generator was wired directly into the sprinkler controls—another amateur mistake.
It took less than a minute to overload the circuits. The explosion plunged the building into darkness. Emergency lights kicked in, casting everything in a hellish red glow. Sprinklers hissed to life, water raining down.
Two more guards came running. Matt met them with cold efficiency. Block, strike, snap. The first one went down clutching a shattered knee. The second managed to land a solid hit to Matt’s jaw before Matt caught his arm, using the man’s momentum to slam him face-first into the wall.
Blood mixed with water on the floor, turning it pink. Matt wiped his split lip, checking the tablet. Six down. Six to go.
The next two he found in a storage area. They were better trained, moving in tandem. Matt took a hard kick to the ribs but managed to get between them. Let them trip over each othertrying to reach him. A quick series of strikes—throat, kidney, temple—and they joined their colleagues on the ground.
Matt methodically worked his way through the building, leaving a trail of broken bodies. His shirt was more red than white now, a mix of his blood and theirs. The sprinklers had finally stopped, but water still dripped from pipes overhead, making the concrete floors treacherous.
Two more guards appeared at the end of the hallway, more cautious than their predecessors. They spread out, trying to flank him. Smart. But not smart enough.
Matt grabbed a broken pipe from the wall, spinning it like a staff. The first guard’s baton strike was deflected, the pipe catching him under the chin. The second rushed in with a knife. Matt caught the blade arm, twisted, and drove his knee into the man’s solar plexus. The knife clattered to the floor. Matt’s follow-up strike put him down permanently.
The main floor was ahead. Sunlight streamed through high windows, momentarily blinding after the dim corridors. Matt blinked, adjusting?—
“You’re ruining everything!”
Porter’s voice echoed through the building, high and unhinged. He’d broken free. Matt cursed under his breath, scanning for movement.
Two final guards charged from opposite directions. Matt met them with cold precision. Block, strike, dodge. One went down with a crushed windpipe. The other lasted longer, landing a solid hit that made Matt’s vision blur. Matt responded by driving his elbow into the man’s temple, following with a knee to the face when he stumbled.
The sound of approaching vehicles cut through the chaos. Multiple engines, moving fast. Matt’s heart rate picked up. James would have mobilized by now. If he could just?—
“Find him!” Porter’s voice cracked with desperation. “Bring him back to me!”
Matt moved toward the main entrance, staying in the shadows. His ribs screamed in protest, but adrenaline kept him moving. Almost there?—
He heard the sound of a car door slamming. Running footsteps.
Then a voice that turned Matt’s blood to ice.
“Matt!”
Andy.
No. No, no, no.
