The last guard didn't use his gun. He was close, lunging out of the shadows with a tactical knife. The blade caught me in the side, a hot, searing line of pain that made me grunt. Blood began to bloom across my shirt, but the adrenaline was a shield.
I grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the radius snapped like a dry twig. He screamed, dropping the knife.
I caught it before it hit the floor and buried it in his neck.
I stood there for a second, gasping, my side burning and my shoulder grazed by a stray bullet. Four bodies lay in the hallway. I was bleeding, bruised, and half-blind with fury, but I was still standing.
The stairwell door at the end of the hall burst open, and my security team finally caught up, weapons drawn and breathing hard. They stopped, staring at the carnage.
"Sir! You're injured, "
"Clear the rooms," I rasped, my voice sounding like it was being dragged over gravel. "Now."
