Zoë stilled held the wooden nun chucks tight in her hands as she approached the men who stood guard outside of the room that Mal was now being held captive in. She moved quickly and with precision never giving the men time to oppose the attack she sent their way.

Zoë lifted her right hand and slugged the first man across his face, breaking his jaw, while simultaneously delivering a blow to the second man’s head. They both staggered drunkenly with shock, confusion and pain. And where never once given the opportunity to regain composure because Zoë lay blow after blow across their bodies causing multiple bones to break and several cries to escape from the men’s lips. When she was done both men fell into a heap of defeat.

One man had a dislocated shoulder, a black eye, a pounding headache, and more than a few busted ribs. The other man sported two black eyes, a bloody broken nose, a fractured jaw, a shattered hand, and a dislodged leg. Both men would need some doctor’n and a couple of stitches. The more damaged man would probably need a new face; his was long removed beyond the point of recognizable.

Zoë knew her tussle with the guards was like to draw someone’s attention, especially the occupants of the room. She hastily drug the unconscious men into the shadows of the dark hallway and likewise took the approach to conceal herself within the dark atmosphere.

Zoë’s assumption had been right, her fight did not go unnoticed, and the tall man who had escorted Mal into the room to begin with, came hustling out of said room. He appeared in the tiny doorway, his eyebrows where cast down in frustration due in part that his guardsmen where absent from their posts. He stepped from the threshold closing the door tightly behind him as he did so. He had his gun drawn and his eyes moved rapidly as he cautiously ventured away from the entrance of the room, searching for any signs of his men.

He knew they wouldn’t leave their posts, he knew, that they knew, he would kill them dead if the th