Page 42 of The Torturer's Target

CHAPTERS 18. CHANGE OF PLANS

Max sprang into action as soon as he saw the motorbikes approaching his vehicle. His heart pounding in his chest, he rushed to the passenger seat and strapped the crying Hazel into her car seat before locking the door. She was his first priority.

He turned to face the group of men who had surrounded them. They were dressed in black, ski masks and helmets covering their faces, making it impossible to identify them. Only two of them had guns, but the others held spiked clubs, ready to engage in a fight. Max knew they were in for a rough ride.

Tesiera withdrew two pistols from her belt and tossed one to Max. He gracefully caught it, and the two of them stood back-to-back, ready to face their attackers. Max gestured with a tilt of his head, and Tesiera nodded her understanding.

She fired a shot as she separated from Max, leading the attackers away from the car. But it missed. Three of them went after Max, while the remaining two approached Tesiera. The man with the spiked club swung it with deadly precision, but Tesiera ducked and dodged his attacks with ease.

She felt something hit her shoulder blade, and pain rippled through her body. Hell, she’d been shot.

She whirled around and there the attacker stood with a revolver, about to fire another round. Tesiera dashed behind a car, but the man followed her, firing as he went. The car was now littered with bullet holes, and Tesiera was panting heavily, her shoulder throbbing.

She scooted to the end of the car and took a peek around the corner to see what was happening. The man with the club was nowhere in sight, but the machine gun guy was still after her. He was hiding behind a board, with only his head and hands exposed. Tesiera aimed carefully and fired. The bullet hit him in the shoulder, and he cried out in pain, dropping his weapon.

Afterward, she got out, reached behind her back to her left shoulder blade, and dug out the bullet—fortunately, it hadn’t traveled deeper—but it came out shattered. Her leather attire was useless there, so she hurried over to one of the attackers she’d taken down, ripped out some pieces of his shirt, and wrapped it around her arm and shoulder to stop the bleeding.

Meanwhile, Max had knocked the pistol from one of the attacker’s hands with a single move and caught it as it dropped to the ground. He fired a shot at the man, taking him down.

The other two men were armed with clubs and bulletproof clothing. He slotted the guns into his back pocket and grabbed a long piece of wood that was lying around to engage them. He swung the wood with deadly precision, hitting one of the attackers on the shoulder, causing him to stumble.

The other attacker aimed his spiked club at Max's face. Max dodged it, but it was close enough to scratch his cheek.

“Fuck,” he grunted in pain and returned his focus to the fight.

The two attackers were coming at him from both sides. Max swung around quickly, grabbing the end of a club.

A spike pierced his palm, but he used it to his advantage. He pushed the club into the guy’s head and kicked the other in the groin with a backward kick of his leg.

The man doubled over in pain, dropping his club. Meanwhile, the other assailant lay on the ground with a cracked skull, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. Max picked up the wooden club again and slammed it against the man’s head with all his might, delivering a fatal blow.

The other attacker, who had been writhing in agony, was about to launch another attack on Max. But Max swung the club against the man’s shoulder joint, breaking it with a loud crack. The attacker let out a piercing cry of pain that echoed in the lot. Max then quickly removed his helmet and ski mask and pulled out a gun from his pocket. He aimed at the man and fired a shot that silenced his cries.

With the two attackers down, Max tucked his gun between his back and his pants and headed towards Tesiera, who was in the midst of a gunfight. But as he approached her, another man appeared out of nowhere, brandishing a gun. Max was surprised. He had only seen two men with guns earlier, so where did this third man come from?

Max turned towards Tesiera and saw that she was locked in a fierce shootout with the man wielding the machine gun. The third attacker, who had attacked Tesiera with a club earlier, was nowhere to be seen. Max immediately realized that the third attacker must have swapped weapons with the fourth attacker and was now pointing his gun at Max.

“Drop your weapon,” the man ordered Max, who complied by letting go of the wooden club he was holding. “Put your hands up in the air. Right now.”

Max eyed the man warily before slowly raising his arms above his head in surrender. The attacker approached him, his gun unwavering.

Meanwhile, Tesiera was struggling to take down the machine gun-wielding attacker. She had reloaded her gun for the second time, but her hands were shaking from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her heart was pounding, and her breaths came in ragged gasps as she tried to steady herself.

Suddenly, she caught sight of Max with his hands up in the air and a gun pointed at him. She felt a surge of anger, and without a second thought, she was about to dash to his aid, ignoring the risk.

But then she saw Max move. In a swift motion, he grabbed the gun pointed at him, spun it away, twisted the attacker’s arm, flipped him over, and wrenched the gun away. He stomped hard on the man’s chest, causing him to cough up blood.

Tesiera watched in awe as Max executed those moves with precision and ease. Her gaze then shifted to the three dead attackers on the ground, their blood pooling around them. Max had taken them all down by himself. She felt a mixture of admiration and respect for him.

Max had told her he could take care of himself, and he had more than proven it. No wonder the man escaped her at her first attempt on his life that night. She was impressed with him. Not everyone could cleanly execute that tricky move in seconds like he just did.

Tesiera stepped out from behind the car and walked towards a gunman, who was out of ammo. Her lips curled up into a smirk, and her eyes glinted with menace as she got closer. He turned and ran away, leaving his guns behind.

“Lucky bastard,” Tesiera muttered under her breath, unimpressed by the gunman’s cowardice.

Meanwhile, Max was still standing over the last man, but before he could shoot him, the man pressed the pressure point on his ankle, causing the muscle to spasm. Max cried out in pain as his legs lifted off from the man’s body reflexively.

“What the fuck?” Max muttered through gritted teeth, trying to contain the pain. He couldn’t shoot the running man, who fled on his motorbike.

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