PART 18 — THE TACTICAL ADVANTAGE
PART 18 — THE TACTICAL ADVANTAGE
Brandon pointed at Emily. “Get the key. Don’t let them leave.” The two men stepped forward. They were big. But big does not mean skilled. I stepped in front of Emily. “Brandon,” I said calmly. “You are making a mistake.” He laughed. Harsh and desperate. “I’m taking back what belongs to my family. Get her!” The first man lunged at me. I didn’t step back. I stepped into his guard. I grabbed his wrist, twisted his momentum, and drove my elbow into his throat. He dropped like a stone. Gasping for air. The second man hesitated. Fear is a contagious thing. I didn’t give him time to recover. I kicked his knee joint. A sickening crack echoed in the room. He fell screaming. It took exactly four seconds. Combat efficiency. No wasted movement. Brandon backed away. His face was white. He suddenly remembered who he was dealing with. Not a suburban housewife. A Colonel in the United States Army. I stepped over the groaning men. I walked up to Brandon. He pressed his back against the doorframe. I grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit. “I told your mother,” I whispered softly. “Your family threatened the wrong woman.” I threw him to the dirt outside. Emily walked past him. She didn’t even look down. We got into the truck. I started the engine. Brandon watched us drive away from the dirt. He knew it was over. The key was secure. And the feds were waiting.
