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The man sat. Alex clicked his tongue at Matt. “Rope. And make it tight as fuck.”

Matt dropped to his knees behind the chair and went to work. The man didn’t watch Matt—he watched Alex, glaring, even as the rope bit into his wrists and his fists went white. “Is this really necessary?”

Alex answered by leveling the gun at his forehead. “It is since you’re the one that aggravated us first and continued to follow us. After multiple nights, dude? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Hooking the other plastic chair with his ankle, Alex dragged it over. He sat, legs spread wide, gun arm draped across his knee—barrel still pointed dead center at the man’s chest. “Just so we’re clear, you followed the wrong motherfuckers.”

The man scoffed, shaking his head. “I think you’re the one who has the wrong idea. You’re not the one I’m after. Not hooligans like you.”

The shot cracked through the garage like a thunderclap. Alex’s ears rang. Matt hit the floor, hands over his head. Jun almost fell backwards, eyes wide. Hal flinched but held his ground. Only the man and Alex stayed stiff. A casing pinged across the concrete. Smoke curled from the man’s splintered back chair leg.

“Augs,” Hal groaned, “if you break any of my things, it’s getting taken from your next paycheck.”

Alex didn’t take his eyes off the man who remained unfazed. “So, this isn’t your first time. Maybe your third? Fourth? Fiftieth?” He leaned forward. The gun didn’t move. “Then this should be easy, while dealing with hooligans like us, amirite?”

He raised the gun again, and everyone but the man winced. “Start talking. Next one won’t miss.”

The man closed his eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. Alex had to admit his calm demeanor was admirable.

“Yes, you are right,” said the man coolly. “I’ve been around people like you a lot during my time.”

“Bro, you did time? For who? Bai Hu?”

He shook his head. “LAPD.”

Alex’s mouth fell open. The gun trembled in his grip. “You fucking shitting me?”

The man shook his head again.

Alex yelped out a laugh and sprang to his feet. “Holy fuck! You’re a fucking cop?”

“Was. I’m not a cop anymore—”

“Fuck!” Alex kicked the floor, paced, then swung back and jammed the barrel against the man’s forehead. He couldn’t stop grinning. Giggles burst through his teeth. The room blurred at the edges, everything soft and swimming except the man below him, sharp and close.

“Augs.” Hal’s hand clamped down on Alex’s shoulder. “Focus.”

Alex pressed the barrel into the man’s temple and leaned close enough to whisper, “Start talking, or I’m gonna give you the same treatment you pigs gave us.”

The man scoffed, as if the barrel was nothing to him. “I was going to feel sorry for you. But this tough-guy act?” He shook his head. “Makes you look exactly like them. A coward.”

Alex pistol-whipped him. The man tipped over and took the chair with him, crashing onto his side. A gasp, and Jun quickly covered his mouth.

Alex grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair and hauled him up, chair and all. The man’s glasses hung crooked, smeared with blood and concrete dust.

“Just fucking tell us why you’re stalking us!” Alex dug the barrel deep into his temple. “If it ain’t for the cops, then what kind of sick ass fetish you got going on?!”

“Augs!”

Everyone turned towards the door. Kana stood in the threshold, laptop clutched to her chest, eyes wide as she took in the scene. “Don’t you fucking kill our only lead!”

Alex motioned her to move back with his free hand. “I told you to go hide! This scene ain’t for you, princess.”

“Okay, but can you just listen to me for once, you dumbass?!”

Alex froze. The garage went quiet. Even the man in the chair looked impressed.

“Robin wants to talk. To all of us.”