Page 127 of Viral Justice

“It’s very satisfying to know you’re dead,” Akbar said to Max. He nodded at his men and left.

Two of the men grabbed Ali by her arms and dragged her across the room from Max, their intentions clear from the eager expressions on their faces.

Anger swept through her, a firestorm that cleared her head of conspiracies and petty worries and dumped rocket fuel into her bloodstream.

Max bellowed, then launched himself off the floor. He’d covered more than half the distance between him and the men holding her when a gunshot reverberated through the room. Max fell to the floor, blood turning his left pant leg dark and wet.

That’s it, you’re done.

Her mind shut down everything but the warrior she was at her core.

The two men who thought they were about to have some fun had her by her arms, one on each side. They’d slung their rifles onto their backs when they took her.

Big mistake.

She threw her weight up and twisted, kicking one man hard on the chin with her foot while grabbing the other man by his shirt and yanking his head down so she could knee his temple.

Their grips loosened and she twisted again, thrusting out with open palms. She was free.

But not safe.

She struck the closest one with a punch to the temple and he went down. The other man was bringing around his rifle as he staggered to his feet. She moved in close, kneed him in the kidney, stepped around, grabbed his head and twisted hard.

The snap of his neck seemed louder than a gunshot.

The other man yelled as his hands scrabbled for his weapon, leaving him open to a throat strike. She hit his Adam’s apple with a sickening crunch and he abandoned his rifle to clutch at his throat.

She took the weapon and turned, slamming the butt of the weapon down on the back of the neck of one of the men now trying to hold down Max.

He collapsed, freeing one of Max’s arms.

Max punched the other man in the face, just like she’d taught him, with the heel of his hand in an upward strike against the other man’s nose.

The militant fell backward, his eyes wide and sightless.

Max stared up at her, his gaze wild. “Ali?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She looked at his leg. “But you’re not.”

His hands grasped at her shoulders. “They didn’t... didn’t...”

“All they did was die,” she said. “Just like these two.”

Max jerked to look at the man he killed and the ones she’d taken out. “I...killed him.” His hands were shaking.

“Yes, and I killed three of them, so don’t freak out on me.” She knelt next to him and tried to find the bullet wound. “Where did you get hit?”

“What?” He glanced down at his leg, a frown on his face, and blinked. “Oh.”

“Not feeling it yet?”

He shook his head, his frown deepening.

“Adrenaline will do that sometimes. Don’t worry about it—it’ll start hurting soon.”

“How reassuring.”

Nowthatwas her Max.

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