The first guard didn't even get the chance to raise his weapon.
I drove my elbow into his throat and grabbed his vest as he choked. One twist, one pivot, and I hurled him headfirst into the reinforced wall. His helmet cracked. He slumped, blood pooling beneath him before he even hit the ground.
The hallway lit red. Alarms blared.
Good.
Let them know I'm coming.
Let them feel it.
I was already moving when the second wave rounded the corner. Four of them, tacticals, armed with stun rifles and flash visors. My leg screamed with each step, but rage drowned it out. I launched forward. No hesitation. No plan. Just the raw, ugly momentum of a man who had finally had enough.
They opened fire.
I dropped low, using the ruined body of the first guard as a shield. The blasts struck him dead-on, lighting up his armor with bursts of electric discharge. I kept running.
