Page 85 of Unraveling Connections

“You’re going to walk away and leave the woman alone,” Quinn states. Which is the legal bit so that we can say that we did our duty, and the local cops can’t say shit about the condition that they find these men in.

Not that they are likely to anyway, since our badges give us a level of clearance that is high above the local PD.

They all look at each other and burst out laughing.

“The way I see it, there’s six of us and only three of you,” a particularly grimy-looking one with a beer belly says, full of confidence.

I shake my head, “Oh, you poor pathetic excuse for a man, you’ve got it the wrong way around, there’s only five of you.”

They all look pretty confused by my wording, which just shows the level of intelligence that they are working with.

I take a step forward, Quinn and Ezra moving with me.

That is apparently all they need as all hell breaks loose and they charge us. I try to keep an eye on the woman, hoping that she makes a break for it as soon as she can and making sure that none of them have grabbed her.

Quinn and Ezra throw themselves into the fight, both of them grinning, which is clearly putting the fuckers off. I duck a hit and throw an uppercut, remembering to pull my punch so I don’t do serious damage; the guy falls to the floor, and I dodge someone else as I see one of them head toward the woman, the telltale glint of a knife in his hand. She backs up until she hits the wall, and before he can get to her, I move in between them, my hand grabbing his wrist and stopping the downward swing of the knife. It’s clear that he had every intention of killing her, andfrom the deranged hunger in his eyes, I would be surprised if he hadn’t done it before.

While holding off a struggling fucker, I glance over my shoulder at the woman, her eyes wide and full of fear, “Run.”

She wastes no more time as she sprints out of the alleyway.

He bellows in pain as I turn the knife and drive it into his shoulder; it’s not a serious injury, but probably something that I should have avoided doing since we are getting the local police department involved. I find it really difficult to muster up the regret for doing so though. It is not very difficult to subdue the guy since he is still bitching about his knife wound. I pull out some zip ties and secure his hands, leaving the knife where it is since it is stemming the bleeding currently, and then push him so he is sitting on the floor.

Glancing around, I see that all five of the fuckers are in a similar position, only without the knife wound.

“A job well done, guys,” I grin.

Ezra and Quinn chuckle, still smiling as Ezra says, “Yeah, that was fun.”

“You can’t just leave us here!” one of them says indignantly.

My smile is sharp as I say, “We have no intention of leaving you here.”

“I’ve already called the local police department and explained the situation they’re on their way,” Quinn says.

One of the guys laughs, “You’re going to get arrested along with us, especially after they see what you’ve done to us.”

“We can play victim,” another one grins.

This time my laughter has real mirth in it as I reach into my back pocket and pull out my badge, flipping it open I say, “Oh, did we forget to mention we’re cops.”

“Of sorts,” Quinn adds, his expression devious.

All of them pale, their mouths snapping shut.

“Glad you finally understand the predicament that you’re in guys,” I say with a smile, and then turn to Quinn and Ezra, “I’m going to stand at the entrance to the alleyway and wait for the cops,” sirens begin to sound close by and add, “which will be any moment now.”

“Got it,” Ezra replies.

I get to the end of the alley just as the cop cars pull up and I show them my badge immediately just so that there aren’t any misunderstandings that will do nothing but waste time.

“Agent,” one of them greets me.

I nod my head in greeting, switching over to my professional persona as I give them a run down of the situation.

We walk down the alleyway continuing the conversation. The cop I'm speaking to whistles, “Whoa you boys really did a number on them.”

“Only defending ourselves,” I reply.

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