by a lock of some kind. Bank and casino vaults — the gold standard by which vaults are measured — employed everything from analog pin-and-tumbler combination locks to next-generation biometric triggers, such as palm and retina scanners. She had even seen systems that monitored perspiration and blood pressure. If someone showed any signs of distress while attempting to access the vault, the software would deny access — even if the correct codes had been entered.
Fortunately for her, this door was pretty basic.
All it required was a simple tug.
A rush of cold air pushed against her as she peeked inside the freezer. The walls were lined with steel racks that held bins of frozen vegetables, as well as store-bought items such as ready-made pasta entrees and desserts. In the center of the room stood a butcher’s station — a heavy, stainless steel table and an assortment of saws, cleavers, and carving knives. Two sides of the steel island were surrounded by hanging slabs of meat. Sides of beef, as well as whole hogs, slabs of mutton, chicken, rabbits, and duck dangled from hoists like a wide curtain of flesh.
As she closed the door behind her, the unit’s compressor hissed. The vents spewed freshly chilled air in an effort to compensate for her body heat.
She shivered as her breath crystallized.
For all its innovations, her suit did little to shield her from the cold. Then again, it wasn’t the frigid temperature that bothered her the most. She was more interested in the size of the room. Large as it was, it was still much smaller than she had been led to believe. This room should have consumed nearly a third of the basement, but it wasn’t close to that. Either the blueprints were wrong, or this freezer was more than it appeared to be.
Five minutes later, she had her answer.
Thanks to the icy walls, the second door was virtually invisible in the back of the freezer. What gave it away was the set of hinges that allowed the racks in front of the door to pivot forward and swing aside. Once she pushed the frozen vegetables out of the way, she spotted a tiny slot in the metal surface of the rear wall. She immediately recognized it as a card reader, like those used in fancy hotels.
Unfazed, she produced a slim device from one of her many pockets. She flipped open the cover and inserted the gadget into the card reader. It fit perfectly. A flurry of access codes streamed across its tiny screen. She raised an eyebrow when the microcomputer continued to process after matching a fourth number. ATMs only require four-digit pin numbers, so a fifth digit seemed slightly excessive. By the time her device had acquired the tenth and final digit, she was beyond intrigued.
With a faint click, the door popped open. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the door, then pulled it toward herself. She was expecting to see stacks of cash, mountains of cocaine, or something that would justify the security measures.
Instead, all she saw was a giant.
At nearly seven feet tall and roughly 400 pounds, the Russian guard literally filled the doorway. Standing face to face — make that
It was a mistake he would later regret.
The moment he pulled his weapon, she thrust her right hand into his throat as if hurling a javelin. It was a knuckle punch — what mobsters called a ‘bear claw’ and martial artists called a ‘panther fist.’ Her thumb was pulled tight, her palm distended, and her four fingers were curled to provide a hard striking surface. It was intended to slip under the chin in a way that a normal punch couldn’t.
It was the perfect choice for a taller target.
Her strike was so violent and so precise that it collapsed his trachea and damaged his vocal cords, temporarily rendering him mute. More importantly, the force of the blow and the pain of the impact caused him to lose his grip on the pistol. It flew from his hand and slid to the rear corner of the secret room, far from his immediate reach.
Unfortunately, all that did was piss him off.
Fueled by rage, the giant lowered his shoulder and charged at his opponent, driving her back toward the butcher’s station. She glanced over her shoulder as she stumbled backwards. Given the force he exerted, she realized that the table’s blunt edge would most likely crush her spine, so she dropped to the floor and allowed the brute to kick her underneath. She slid across the floor and quickly bounced to her feet. Staring across the table at the hulking guard, she waited for his next move.
She didn’t have to wait long.
The Russian grabbed a large carving knife from the butcher’s block. He grasped the edge of the table with his other hand. With little more than a swipe of his arm, the guard flung the heavy steel table across the room. It had taken four men to bring it into the freezer, yet he had tossed it aside with no more effort than swatting a fly.
He lumbered toward her, his eyes ablaze. He swung wildly, then caught his balance. Again he struck out at her, and again it took him a moment to regroup. Clumsy as he was, she knew that he only needed to connect once. With his fury and strength, one blow would take her head clean off.
After his third swing, she struck back. The moment the blade sliced past, she stepped forward and delivered a vicious jab to his lower abdomen. The bastard barely winced, so she changed her approach and went for his face. She aimed for the bridge of his nose, but connected with his orbital cavity. It felt like she had punched a cement wall. Almost instantly, his eye swelled shut. Blood trickled down his cheek from a wide gash under his brow, but he shrugged it off like a boxer in the ring.
He swung again, but this time she defended the strike. She knew she could never fully stop his arm’s momentum, but by focusing her block on his wrist, she was able to disarm him. The impact sent the knife flying across the room. Unfortunately, the guard followed this blow with a punch to her ribs, which sent
The guard took the opportunity to retreat into the hidden room. After scanning the floor, he found what he had come for and grabbed the pistol.
Standing in the doorway between the rooms, he grew confused. He had expected to find her crumpled in the corner of the freezer, coughing up blood from his vicious blow. But she wasn’t there, or anywhere, that he could see. He moved forward to investigate.
Unbeknownst to him, she had scrambled across the floor and taken refuge behind the door. The instant he was fully inside the freezer, she slammed the door shut behind him. Darkness swallowed them both.
Without light, they were forced to rely on sound, and the only thing they could hear was each other’s labored breathing. The giant pointed his gun in the direction of the door and fired. He held his breath, hoping to hear the squeal of his victim, but was greeted by silence.
He fired again … then again … then again.
Each time aiming in a different direction.
Each time coming up empty.
Her matte-black bodysuit helped her stay hidden in the maze of dangling carcasses. With every flash of the guard’s pistol, she moved closer and closer to her target. Once she had narrowed the gap to three feet, she made her move.
She swept her foot violently behind his knee, knocking his leg from under him. As he crashed to the floor, she launched herself toward the ceiling. Clutching the hanging side of beef as if it were a rope swing, she cut the nylon line of the hoist with a cleaver. In an instant, the combined weight of herself and the steer crashed down upon the guard. His hip took the brunt of the impact, shattering like fine china.
She stood and illuminated the scene with her flashlight. The guard’s face conveyed the intolerable pain of his broken hip. Tears streamed down his chubby cheeks.
Thankfully, she had the perfect item to ease his pain.
Wrapping her hands around the brass knuckles that she never left home without — she had yet to meet a man who could withstand more than one good punch — she reared back and knocked out the giant with a powerful
