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Chapter 556
Chapter 556:
June’s flat leather loafers gave her no purchase on the loose gravel. She couldn’t run fast enough.
Seconds later, the trail bent sharply and narrowed to a dead end, blocked by a massive boulder jutting out over the cliff edge. There was nowhere left to go.
The thief skidded to a stop three meters in front of her, blocking the only exit. He was breathing hard, his eyes bright with malice.
He reached into his pocket and drew the switchblade.
Click.
The sharp metallic sound cut through the noise of the waves. The six-inch blade snapped open and caught the afternoon light with a cold, deadly glare.
“Run, you rich New York bitch,” he sneered, taking a slow step forward. “Why aren’t you running now p>
He laid out his demands — her jewelry, her credit cards — and let his eyes move over her in a way that made clear the robbery was only the beginning of what he intended.
June pressed her back against the rock wall and forced her breathing to slow. She slid her right hand into her canvas tote, fingers closing around the canister of pepper spray.
𝖡𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝗇
The thief lunged.
Before June could pull her hand free, a violent blur of motion exploded from the blind spot around the edge of the rock wall. A figure moved with the sudden, explosive speed of a striking animal — not a billionaire in a tailored suit, but a man in ordinary hiking gear, one of Crawford’s invisible Ghost Team operatives who had been tracking June from the shadows throughout the afternoon.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t hesitate.
He executed a single, devastatingly precise CQC strike, driving his boot into the thief’s wrist with full force.
Crack.
The sound of bone breaking carried over the noise of the waves. The thief’s scream tore through the air. The switchblade spun off the edge of the cliff and disappeared into the ocean below.
The operative was already moving before the scream had finished. He grabbed the front of the man’s hoodie with one hand, lifted him entirely off the ground with brute, practiced force, and drove a CQC punch directly into his abdomen with the other. The impact was like a bat hitting dense wood. The thief’s eyes rolled back. A wet, strangled sound escaped him — he couldn’t even scream properly.
The operative dropped him onto the dirt, stepped onto him to pin him in place, and touched the comm unit at his ear.
“Target secured. Threat neutralized p>
He looked down at the man gasping beneath his boot, his eyes utterly devoid of warmth.
“Which hand,” the operative said quietly, in a voice that barely sounded human, “was going to touch her p>
The thief wheezed and begged, feeling his ribs bending under the pressure.
If June had not been standing three meters away, the operative would not have stopped there.