Chapter 4

The basement entrance of Petro Estate.

Two researchers in white lab coats and lanyards walked out carrying a square metal box.

Leo and Natasha were crouched behind a large tree nearby.

Natasha's eyes swept the surroundings like a searchlight.

Leo pulled out a baseball cap and put it on, tugging the brim low.

"Wait here!"

He stepped out from behind the tree, keeping the brim down to hide his face.

He walked straight toward the two researchers.

"Excuse me."

Leo spoke first.

The two stopped. "Something wrong?"

Leo raised his head and flashed a sly smile.

A bad feeling crept over them.

But it was already too late.

Leo threw two punches, fast as lightning.

Both workers dropped to the ground without making a sound.

He dragged them behind the tree into the shadows and stripped off their coats and keycards.

While Natasha changed, she kept talking. "Let's hope this baggy lab coat can hide my amazing figure. Leo, just so we're clear — if my killer body blows our cover, that's not on me."

Leo ignored her.

Once he'd tucked the two unconscious workers into a flower bed, he finally said, "Alright, Ms. Lewis with the amazing figure — let's focus."

Using the researchers' keycards, they got through the door to the underground lab without any trouble.

The lab was bright, clean, and sterile — wide open to the eye.

Both of them had masks on, covering their faces.

They made it to the storage room without a hitch.

But the storage room had a higher-level fingerprint lock.

Leo looked at Natasha. She took a deep breath. "I'll try. No promises."

She pulled out a decryption device and pressed it against the fingerprint scanner.

Two minutes later, it beeped.

"Fingerprint system's down temporarily," Natasha said. "Use the card. Now."

Leo swiped. The light went green. The door opened.

They slipped inside.

"Got it!"

Leo found the antidote among the storage cabinets. A grin spread across his face. "Natasha — let's go!"

They headed back the same way they came.

No problems — until they walked out of the basement and ran straight into a patrol team.

The captain glanced at Leo's badge. "Dr. Colsey, you look flustered. Everything okay?"

"Fine." Leo blinked, shook his head, and kept his voice low and muffled.

That was enough to keep the captain from suspecting him.

But then his eyes moved to Natasha.

Her badge said she was a man named Melnado.

"Sir, did you lose weight? And get shorter?"

He said it without thinking.

Then it hit him — something was off.

A person can lose weight. They can't lose height.

And now that he looked closer, this "Melnado" had a very impressive figure.

Curves in all the right places.

No man was built like that.

"Wait a second." His hand went straight to the gun on his hip, voice firm. "You're not Melnado. You're a woman. You —"

He reached for his weapon.

Before he could finish the sentence, Leo's fist came out of nowhere.

Clean and hard.

A single, heavy blow.

The patrol captain flew off his feet and hit the ground, out cold.

Ten people in the patrol team.

Leo didn't slow down for a second. After dropping the captain, he spun and went after the three nearest to him.

Two punches at lightning speed.

Two kicks right after.

Four patrol members were down almost instantly.

The other five finally caught up to what was happening.

They reached for their guns.

Leo lunged like a tiger, tackling the two fastest draws before they could aim.

Ten people meant almost nothing to him. Barely more than two or three. The threat was low.

He wasn't a killer. He could have used his gun and dropped them in seconds.

But he didn't.

He just wanted them unconscious. Then get out fast.

At the same time, Natasha moved in. Of the four Leo had knocked down, only two were out cold. The other two were starting to get up.

She walked over quickly.

A kick to one man's head — down.

The other was struggling to rise, but she stepped on his chest and pinned him there.

Back with Leo — he was holding his own against five. After tackling two of them, he grabbed both by the throat and slammed their heads into the ground.

The back of their skulls met the floor hard.

Both went limp.

Three left. Two of them had already drawn their guns.

But they happened to be standing in a straight line.

Leo flicked his wrist.

The keycard shot out like a blur, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. It sliced across the first man's wrist and kept going, burying itself in the back of the second man's hand.

Both screamed. Their guns hit the floor at almost the same moment.

Leo launched into a flying kick, his heel connecting with the first man's jaw. The scream cut off. The man staggered back and dropped to the ground.

Then — the last one got his gun out. He pointed it straight at Leo. "Don't move."

Leo froze.

The patrol member who'd taken the keycard to the hand reached down with his left arm, trying to pick up his dropped gun.

That's when Natasha, having finished off the fourth man, quietly circled around behind them.

She came from the back and kicked the gun out of the last man's hands. "Leo — now!"

Leo moved without hesitation. Fast as a blink.

He drew his gun.

Two muffled cracks from the suppressed Glock.

Two men dropped with holes in their chests.

Dead on the spot.

That was the whole patrol team — all ten.

Wait.

Actually, no.

Something clicked in Leo's head. His expression shifted. He looked to the side.

One man — the one whose wrist had been cut and whose jaw Leo had kicked — was lying face-up on the ground.

He wasn't dead. And he wasn't unconscious.

Leo watched him stagger to his feet and scramble toward the right.

Thirty feet away, on a wall column, was an alarm.

The man was already six feet from it.

Leo fired immediately.

But at that exact moment, the man threw himself forward and headbutted the alarm.