The air at Pier 42 was thick with tension. As the thugs tightened their circle, confident in their numbers, Officer Miller didn’t flinch. She shifted her breathing, readying the skills of the Occult Crimes Unit. These grave robbers were about to learn the vast gap between brawlers and a specialist.
"Get her!" Butch barked.
The first man lunged with a clumsy haymaker. Miller pivoted, catching his wrist and driving her elbow into his ribs with a sickening crunch before sweeping him to the concrete. A second attacker swung a rusty pipe. Miller ducked the whistling metal and delivered a devastating C.Q.C. kick to his kneecap, hyperextending the joint with a loud pop.
For the next sixty seconds, Miller was a blur of tactical violence. Moving like water, she dismantled them with kinetic effic
