Chapter Twenty-Four
Fight or flight.
It’s a strange thing about instinct. No matter how strong or how well trained we are, our reflexes are always stronger. We hold our breath when we hit water, we pull a hand back when we burn it … and we close our eyes when something threatens our face.
It was a dumb move, but in the absence of any smart moves, it was all I had.
With a flick of my wrist, I launched the memory stick at Hargrave’s face. I never meant to cause injury, just distract her.
The motion itself surprised her, and she nearly dropped the gun. The USB stick then hit her under the left eye. She cried out in shock and I charged, driving my shoulder into her stomach and chest. Her feet left the ground as I shoved her back. Drywall crumpled under the impact. The weapon fell away.
S
