The attacker hit me before I could draw my weapon. A shoulder slammed into my chest hard enough to drive me backward into Vincent’s desk and papers exploded into the air while pain shot through my ribs.
I reacted automatically. It was now instinct, training and survival.
My fist connected with the attacker’s jaw or at least where I thought the jaw was.
A black mask concealed most of the face. There were no features, no clues and no identity.
The stranger staggered backward one step before recovering immediately. Very fast. Too fast for an amateur.
“Who the hell are you?” I snapped but he didn’t answer.
The attacked lunged again and I ducked sideways while a fist clashed through empty air where my head had been seconds earlier and then I drove my elbow into the attackers ribs.
