The Hidden: A Black Force Thriller (Black Force Shorts Book 4) by Matt Rogers

Author:Matt Rogers [Rogers, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-16T22:00:00+00:00

15

It threw the guy off for a second — he hadn’t been expecting Slater to admit that kind of information. He paused for the briefest of moments in time as the gears whirred in his head, connecting the dots and understanding the fact that the stranger in front of him had sinister intentions.

By that point it was already too late.

Slater activated all his fast-twitch muscle fibres at once, transitioning from a state of calm to an explosive battering ram that threw everything with murderous intent. He launched a thunderous right hook that scythed through the shadows and connected with every knuckle at once on the side of the Dagestani’s head, drilling into the soft skin right above the man’s left ear.

Lars’ words proved correct.

Slater did have a knack for smashing people unconscious.

The guy dropped with no control of his limbs, folding over like a lawn chair and crumpling into the loose dirt underfoot. The floor of the hallways on the ground level hadn’t been installed yet, and the dirt softened the impact as the first guy went down. As a result, his comrade didn’t notice the sudden explosive shift in atmosphere until his chance of retaliation had dissipated.

Slater leapt over the first guy’s prone form and transferred all his forward momentum into a jumping front kick that concluded with the heel of his boot crushing into the second guy’s sternum. Hurt but not unconscious, the second guy uttered an uncontrollable grunt of surprise and spiralled into the far wall, the breath stripped from his lungs and the assault rifle stripped from his hands.

With both guns now on the floor, the light vanished. A thin glow of luminescence filtered along the dirt, but everything more than a few inches above the ground remained shrouded in darkness. Slater could barely make out the silhouette of the second guy bouncing off the half-finished plaster wall, stumbling for balance in the narrow corridor.

But one glimpse was all he needed.

He surged forward and let fly with three consecutive punches to the guy’s exposed torso, using his left fist, then his right, then returning to the left. It only took a little over a second to deliver the three blows, and they sapped what little energy the man had right out of him. He doubled over, and Slater sensed his opportunity.

Slater dropped the point of his elbow into the back of the man’s head, flattening him into the dirt and transporting him to the same realm as his unconscious buddy a few feet away.

The corridor became still again.

Slater’s brain went haywire, immediately assessing the aftermath of the conflict.

By this point he’d been in enough life or death fights to understand the emotions racing through him. Sure, he was technically an elite black operations warrior, but the chemical cocktail that floods your brain in the aftermath of shocking violence can’t be avoided.

Slater rested one hand against the half-finished wall of the corridor and took a couple of deep breaths in and out, settling his racing heart. The

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