AGENT 23 BLACKOUT (Agent 23 Book 1)

CHAPTER 28

Instead of a punishing right hook, Agent 24 bulrushes me, grabs my shirt, and jerks me toward him—no worries about his gun finding its way into my hands—it's out of the equation. With blood oozing down the side of his head, and with the intensity of a grizzly bear, he holds me steady with one hand and throws a straight cross with the other. I dip to the side, but his grip keeps me in position, his fist connecting high on my cheekbone and sliding off from the sweat drenching my face.

He cocks his fist back for another blow, his face screwing into a rage-filled grimace. This time I resort to the same tactic I used before, because it's the only thing I know to do. I raise my feet off the floor and drop with my body weight, countering against his muscular biceps. I catch him off guard, and the sudden downward plummet of my body allows my face to glide beneath the next onslaught from his fist.

Even more frustrated, Agent 24 slings me to the concrete floor. By the time I roll over, he jumps on top of me and wraps his fingers around my throat.

This is it, the end. He's grown tired of the traditional methods of fighting, and now he's resorting to strangulation.

My face flushes with heat from the blood trapped inside my head from the neck up.

His fingers tighten around my throat as the gash on his cheek bleeds and the side of his head streams with crimson, a silvery trace of titanium gleaming under the overhead lights. It's then I remember the device my dad created, and while my consciousness dwindles under his crushing grip, a glimmer of hope comes to mind.

Like every other assassin before him, Agent 24's mind must be under The Collective's control. Why else would he refuse to shoot me, especially under duress? Why would he follow Zero's rules of engagement when his life is in danger? Especially after I shot him by accident. The only reason that makes sense, obedience is a prerequisite when his mind doesn't belong to him. It belongs to Zero.

The device my dad created can block the Mind Bender's signal, and possibly break its hold on Agent 24, unless he's controlled by the latest version, which is supposed to be permanent.

I have to try.

As my vision darkens with his paws wrenching my throat, I snake my hands up to his jacket and try to remember which inside pocket he dropped the device into. The right or left?

The right one! Which is his left.

My fingers slip beneath the lapel of his jacket.

I don't have time to reach inside the pocket and grab the device, but I remember the oblong object having a coin-size button on one side. I just have to depress it.

My fingertips locate the outline of something that feels like an oval shape, slightly smaller than a phone. That's it. I press against the object, but nothing happens.

I can't breathe. My lungs burn like fire and my head feels like a pressurized hot-air balloon about to burst. My hands are heavy weights as my fingers slip away and collapse toward me.

Then, with one last effort, I claw at the front of his jacket, patting the fabric, feeling for the device, and find it! With what little energy I have left, I push against the oblong object and it gives under pressure.

Agent 24's hands release my neck and fly up to his head. With twisted cheeks, he cries out and falls off of me.

My hands rush to my throat.

I gasp and choke, sucking in desperately for the air my body needs to survive.

Once I'm standing, but still panting and rubbing my neck, I locate Agent 24. He shakes his head and extends his arms for balance, recovering from the effects of having the Mind Bender signal broken. The disruption was temporary, but the fact it worked, if even for a few seconds, is promising when I think about my dad and Kayla. That device might be the only chance I have.

"That won't happen again." Agent 24 crams his hand into his inside jacket pocket. He yanks out the device my dad created, drops it on the floor, and then grinds it under his shoe. The device fractures and crumbles into fragments.

My heart seizes as I realize my hope of saving my dad, and saving Kayla, was just destroyed under the sole of the assassin's shoe.

"You'll pay for that," I say.

Agent 24 cracks his neck to each side and waves me toward him. "Let's do this."

We sprint toward each other, and as we draw near, I fall to the ground and slide beneath his thunderous fist. As I careen past him, he swivels around and comes after me. Hastily, I jump to my feet and flee. With him on my heels, I leap in the air, my goal to run up the corrugated metal that covers the near wall, thinking to whip around and use the surface to get leverage for a super punch. But the surface is too slick for my shoes to gain traction, and I slip. As I plunge to the floor, Agent 24 catches up to me and swings. His knuckles skim over the top of my head and smash into the wall, leaving a fist-size indention in the metal.

Before he can reload for another swing, I dash away to the center of the warehouse, my intention to get him to chase me again. I can't win this fight face to face, but I can if I use my brain. Agent 24 is bigger and stronger than me, that much is obvious, but I'm faster and more agile. That's how I'm going to win, by using my advantages against him.

With a support pole between us, when he moves one way, I shift another. On the third try, he leans too far toward me, his center of gravity off balance, and I strike. My jab lands square on the nose, and he lurches backward with a growl. His gaze hardens, and he reaches for me on the other side. I jab again, but this time he fakes to that side and pulls back. As I miss, he hooks his elbow around the pole and lunges around with a foot to my ribs. At the moment of impact, air whooshes from my lungs and I skitter away, stumbling until I regain my fighting stance. But by the time I stand upright with my hands raised, he closes the gap and follows with a left hand cross.

I duck, but not quick enough.

His fist cracks me in the temple, driving me sideways.

I falter, woozy and reeling as another hook crashes into my chin and sends me back stepping, dragging my feet, trying to right myself before he has a mind to finish me.

Through blurry eyes, I stare at Agent 24 as he draws near for the knockout.

In that instant, everything: the big assassin, the surrounding area, and the entire warehouse freezes to an eerie slow-motion crawl.

Sweat drips like molasses off his face as he winds up his arm for the patented upper cut, the same punch that ended our fight at the fort.

As this happens, I realize time hasn't slowed down, but my mind has leaped into hyper-drive. It's like I'm two or three steps ahead of him as he prepares to annihilate me. I don't dodge or duck. I don't counter, and I don't block his savage punch. Instead, I drop and whip my leg around to knock him off his feet.

But the leg sweep doesn't bring him down. However, it throws him off balance.

Before he counters, I roll out of reach, spring to my feet, and sprint away.

He lumbers after me.

The nearest support pole is twenty feet away. I make for it and swing around it like a gymnast on a horizontal bar, but mine is vertical. As I loop around, my feet careening through the air, I meet Agent 24 with a wallop. The bottom of my shoes crash into his face, and the impact rocks him with the extreme velocity of my momentum rushing through him. His upper body whips backwards while his feet sail out from under him. The result—the back of his head smacks the concrete floor while his lower body follows suit—and when he comes to rest flat on his back, the fight is over.

But I don't have time to waste.

First, I feel for the assassin's pulse; he's still alive, which means I don't have to carry the burden of knowing I killed someone. Next, I check his watch for the verdict on the countdown: I have eleven minutes and forty-four seconds left. That's all I need to know—I snatch the keys from the inside jacket pocket and race off to find Kayla and my dad. According to Zero, I can only save one of them, and I'll lose the other forever to The Collective's unthinkable machine called the Mind Bender.

Regardless, my doubt is resolved. I am Agent 23.