The neon sign above the convenience store flickered with a rhythmic, irritating buzz, casting long, sickly shadows across the linoleum floor.

"Clear the room!" Silas roared, pointing down at Vance. "Kill him!"

Dozens of elite mercenaries flooded the club floor, drawing their weapons. The VIPs scrambled for the emergency exits, trampling each other in a panic.

Vance moved like a phantom. He sprinted behind the massive, circular marble bar as a hail of bullets shattered the glass liquor bottles behind him, raining expensive alcohol and shards over his head.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the coin-sized chemical explosives. He slapped three of them against the marble counter and threw himself toward the kitchen doors.

BOOM.

The explosion was concussive, blowing the heavy marble bar outward into the advancing guards, knocking half a dozen men off their feet.

Vance breached the kitchen, shooting two guards who tried to flank him. He moved with brutal efficiency, using the tight corridors of the service area to limit their numerical advantage. He used a tank of cooking grease and his plasma torch to create a wall of fire, cutting off the reinforcements.

He made his way up the service stairwell to the VIP balcony.

He kicked the door open. Silas was waiting, holding a heavy .45 caliber pistol directly at Elena’s head.

"Drop it, Vance!" Silas screamed, his polished veneer completely gone, replaced by the desperate animal underneath. "Drop the gun, or I blow her brains out!"

Vance slowly lowered the Glock, placing it on the carpet.

"Kick it away."

Vance kicked the gun. It slid across the floor.

Silas laughed, a manic, breathless sound. "You're a fool, Vance. You gave up a peaceful life in hiding for this? For a girl you barely know?"

"I didn't do it for her," Vance said, taking a slow step forward. "I did it because you stole ten years of my life. And I want them back."

Silas raised his gun to shoot Vance in the chest.

In a fraction of a second, Vance reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his heavy, specialized jeweler's laser-pointer—a device used to highlight microscopic flaws in diamonds. It emitted a highly concentrated, blinding beam of light.

Vance shined it directly into Silas’s eyes.

Silas shrieked, firing blindly into the ceiling as his retinas burned. Vance closed the distance instantly. He grabbed Silas's wrist, twisting it violently until the bone snapped. The gun dropped. Vance delivered a devastating elbow to Silas’s jaw, knocking the syndicate boss unconscious before he even hit the ground.

Vance stood over him, breathing heavily. The club below was silent, the remaining guards having fled when their boss went down.