As he rounded the corner, she rounded another, and Sam marched quickly up the slight incline, his back groaning with pain.
He waited a moment, pressing himself to the wall and ran a hand through his wet hair. Having been in the military so long, Sam wasn’t used to having long hair. It didn’t bother him as such, but the feeling of wet hair tickling the side of his face was alien to him.
From the street ahead, he heard an Italian yell something in his native tongue, most likely a crude cat call at Alex as she walked alone.
Sam shook his head.
If only they knew. Alex may have been naïve, but she would certainly be able to handle a drunk idiot.
Slowly, Sam ventured round the corner in time to see Alex stood, fist raised, in front of what looked like an abandoned car repair shop. She glanced back and Sam slowed his walk, trying his best to stumble like a drunk returning home.
The blanket of rain and scarce lighting helped.
Alex thudded her fist against the door and after a few shunting noises, the door opened. Sam saw the large man at the door, watched Alex step in and the door close.
He hurried on, passing the few motorbikes and nice-looking cars outside. His training to absorb every detail took over and he noted the pristine condition of the vehicles.
Undoubtedly, they belonged to the crew that were recruiting Alex.
But for what purpose, Sam wasn’t sure.
As silently as possible, he pressed his ear to the metal door, trying desperately to hear anything from the inside.
Minutes passed, each one feeling like an hour.
Maybe she was right?
Maybe they were going over the details of the job and Sam had just overreacted.
A large crash and the mixture of human and metal clattering to the floor echoed loudly inside.
Something didn’t feel right.
Sam knew that if he was wrong, he would be in for a rough time. Most criminals didn’t like intruders, especially one they didn’t know. But as the faint noise of someone rooting through a toolbox filtered through to him, the need to intervene took control.
He looked around at his surroundings, nothing but a few cars and some old signage. One of the signs was broken, the metal bar that ran across the top had snapped due to years of rust and neglect.
Sam wrapped his hand around the loose end, twisted and ripped the pipe clean off. His shoulder ached, but he ignored it. He had felt worse pain.
The two scars on his chest from Project Hailstorm.
The scarring and burns from his time in the small village of Chikari.
Sam Pope was built to survive.
Tightly gripping the pole, Sam stepped up to the door and slammed his fist against a couple of times. With the rain pouring down, Sam took a step to the side and took a deep breath.
The sound of footsteps grew louder and then the loud clang of metal as the bolt was moved.
The door swung open.
Sam stepped into action.
Chapter Five
Luca’s teeth didn’t stand a chance.
As the pole collided with his jaw, his mouth was reduced to a mushy pulp of blood and tooth. As the cracked remnants of his smile burst forth in a spray of blood, Luca stumbled backwards, the sickening crack catching everyone in the workshop by surprise.
Sam swept in, glancing the pistol tucked under Luca’s arm and instinctively reached out and caught the hulking man before he hit the ground. His hand slid into the jacket and quickly reunited him with a firearm.
It felt right in his hand.
Like a part of his body had been returned to him.
With his other arm, he used Luca’s deadweight momentum to spin him round, pulling his arm tight and locking him in place.
Luca was now a motionless, human shield.
With the gun raised in his right hand, Sam scanned the room.
Beyond the few depleted cars that had long since been stripped of any value, he immediately locked eyes on Alex. Her eyes were red with tears. Her chin was red with blood. Circling her, surrounded by forgotten work benches were three heavies, each one of them decked head to toe in the black uniform of Blackridge.
Beside Alex, an immaculately groomed man smiled cruelly and dropped the hammer he was holding onto the ground. As the clang echoed around the room, so did his sarcastic clapping.
‘Impressive,’ the man called out, taking a step away from Alex and towards the door. Sam made a show of aiming the gun at him. ‘Whoa. You want to lower that thing?’
‘Let her go.’ Sam’s words dripped with menace. With his eyes locked on the ringleader, he noticed the others moving in his periphery.
They were getting into position.
Their hands slowly moving to their sidearms.
The leader took another step, clenching his teeth as if indecisive, and looked back at his hostage.
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sam. It is Sam, right?’ The man had the unfortunate mannerisms of a salesman. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Matt and we…’
‘Just let her go,’ Sam said again, readjusting the weight of his unconscious shield. Matt continued as if he hadn’t heard.
‘We were hoping your friend here would help us get in touch with you.’ He turned and gave Alex a thumbs up. ‘Good job. Now I don’t have to break several of your bones.’
‘You know who I am, right?’ Sam said coldly.
‘Indeed.’
‘Then you know I’m not bluffing when I say if one of your attack dogs even thinks about reaching for a gun, I’ll put a bullet in yours and their heads before they’ve even tickled the trigger.’
Matt’s smile dropped and he ran his tongue across his teeth, weighing up the severity of the threat. Behind Sam, the cold wind swirled through the door, sprinkling the back of his neck with rainwater. After a few tense seconds, Matt gave the order to stand down.
Obediently, they did.
Matt turned back to Sam, a
