The concrete floor cracks beneath my feet as I drop through the ceiling tiles directly above Shaw's position. Dust and debris rain down around me like a gray shroud.
Eight startled faces turn upward. Eight weapons begin to swing in my direction.
Too slow.
"You're all dead," I announce, my voice cutting through their shock like a blade.
The first man to my left raises his assault rifle. I move before his finger finds the trigger. My fist connects with his solar plexus, driving upward through his ribcage. The wet crack of breaking bones echoes through the room.
His body flies backward into two of his companions. They tumble together in a heap of twisted limbs and scattered weapons.
Shaw spins toward me, his pistol tracking my movement. "Impossible! You're supposed to be—"
"Dead?" I complete his sentence while closing the distance between us. "Your organization excels at killing families. Let's see how you handle a fair fight."
