Chapter 19: [19] You’re Trapped In Here With Me
Pierre shifted his stance, weight settling on the balls of his feet like a coiled spring. His hands hung loose at his sides, fingers relaxed but ready. The three sailors spread out instinctively, their confidence wavering as they registered the subtle change in his posture.
"Third option?" Gray Hair scoffed, though his voice carried less certainty than before. "What third option?"
"The one where I walk out of here and you three take a nice long nap."
Broken Nose laughed, but the sound came out forced. "You’re outnumbered three to one, genius. Just surrender and make this easy on everyone."
Pierre’s lips curved into a lazy smile. "Outnumbered? Nah. You’ve got it backwards. I’m not trapped in here with you three." His eyes gleamed with predatory amusement. "You’re trapped in here with me."
The woman drew her baton first. The telescoping weapon extended with a metallic snap that echoed off the corridor walls. "Last warning, red. Come quietly or we drag you."
"Really?" Pierre rolled his shoulders, joints popping audibly. "Love the confidence. Really sells the whole tough Navy act. But here’s the thing about acts—they fall apart the moment someone calls your bluff."
Gray Hair and Broken Nose flanked him, batons extending in practiced unison. Three weapons, three trained sailors, one narrow corridor. On paper, the math looked terrible for Pierre.
He’d never been good at math anyway.
Gray Hair moved first, swinging his baton in a horizontal arc aimed at Pierre’s ribs. The attack came fast—faster than the pirates had managed—but Pierre’s enhanced reflexes made it feel sluggish. He swayed backward, the weapon whistling past his chest by inches, then pivoted on his left foot and drove his right elbow into Gray Hair’s solar plexus.
The sailor’s eyes bulged. Air exploded from his lungs in a harsh wheeze as he doubled over, baton clattering to the floor. Pierre grabbed the back of Gray Hair’s head and drove his knee upward, connecting with the man’s temple. Gray Hair’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.
"One down," Pierre said, straightening his borrowed uniform jacket. "Who’s next?"