The blonde woman laughed, a sharp, ugly sound that irritated my ear. She signaled to her guards, and three of them moved in at once.
"Kill him," she said casually, as if she were ordering a drink. "Sarang will understand. A dead fixer is easier to manage than a live one."
But she didn't realize that I wasn't just a fixer. I may not have my memories but my body remembers movements that my mind doesn't.
I swung my fist at them, dodged, and kept at it, fighting like someone who had just found the only thing worth living for, and was ready to face anything just to keep it.
My body reacted before I could even think. I ducked beneath one of the Guards arm swings, drove my elbow into his ribs, and used his momentum to throw him over the side of the gangplank. The second one drew a knife which should've caused me to panic, but I was faster. I grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the bone snapped, and kicked him back into the crates.
