He knew about it. He had to.
Ethan stepped in front of Mia, his eyes narrowing. "You're not getting it. Not without a fight."
"Then a fight is exactly what you'll get," the man said with a soft chuckle. "But I'll warn you. I always get what I want."
The man reached into his jacket, pulling out a sleek pistol, the barrel gleaming in the low light.
"Get down!" Ethan shouted, shoving Mia to the ground.
The air exploded with a deafening shot, and Mia felt the world spin. The bullet missed, but just barely.
The man was already raising his gun again, the cold gleam in his eyes promising death.
But Ethan wasn't about to let that happen.
Without hesitation, he lunged forward, his movements swift and fluid. He disarmed the man with practiced ease, the gun skittering across the floor. But before either of them could react, the man's hand shot out, grabbing Ethan by the throat and slamming him into the wall.
Mia scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. The man was far too strong, too skilled. And she had no idea how to stop him.
"Ethan!" she shouted, her voice full of desperation.
He was struggling to break free, but the man's grip tightened. The pressure on Ethan's neck was unbearable, and Mia's heart raced in panic. She couldn't let him die. Not like this. Not when they were so close.
Think. Think.
Her eyes darted around the room, and then she saw it. A broken piece of wood lying in the corner, jagged and sharp. Without thinking, Mia grabbed it and rushed toward the man.
She didn't have time to plan. She just acted. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she drove the makeshift weapon into the man's side, the wood sinking deep.
He gasped in surprise, his grip on Ethan faltering for just a moment. Ethan broke free, spinning around to knock the man's hands away.
The man staggered back, clutching his side. His eyes burned with fury. "You'll regret this," he growled, but the words were cut off as Ethan grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.
"I don't think so," Ethan said, his voice cold and determined.
And with that, the man crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Mia looked at Ethan, her breath coming in ragged gasps. They had survived—this time. But the fight wasn't over.
The Syndicate was still out there. And so was the mystery man who wanted the black box.
But now, for the first time, Mia truly believed that they could make it out of this—together. The silence in the small, dimly lit room was suffocating. The man who had attacked them was unconscious, sprawled on the cold floor in a heap, his chest rising and falling shallowly. The jagged piece of wood Mia had used to stab him lay a few feet away, blood staining the floor where it had struck. She could hear her own breathing, uneven and ragged, as she tried to process everything that had happened in the last few moments.