Beast strolled through the park, hands buried deep in his pockets. Suddenly, he stopped.
"This is far enough," Beast called out to the empty air. "Come on out."
An instant later, a dozen men emerged from the shadows, seamlessly surrounding him. They moved with military precision, forming a tight perimeter around him.
Beast nodded, a grim smirk playing on his lips. "Damn. You guys are really serious about killing that woman, aren't you?"
A man lunged, combat knife drawn. Beast didn't even take his hands out of his pockets; he simply pivoted and delivered a savage elbow. The crack of the man's jaw echoed through the trees as he slammed into the earth, his neck twisting at an impossible angle.
Beast looked at the crest on their tactical vests. "The Shadow Syndicate? What brings the elite all the way out here?"
"You recognize us," a man from the front rank noted, stepping forward.
"I know Jacob. Personally," Beast said.
The man paused, a flicker of caution crossing his face. "You know our commander? Forgive me, I didn't realize you were an acquaintance. I am Vic. But acquaintance or not, we operate on strict orders. We're using full force."
Beast offered a silent, mocking nod.
"Take him down," Vic ordered.
The circle collapsed inward. Beast planted his feet and drove a single punch into the gut of the foremost attacker. The impact didn't just stop the man—it launched him backward with the force of a cannonball, sweeping ten other mercenaries off their feet in a tangle of broken limbs.
The remaining men froze. Vic's professional composure shattered.
Two men managed to flank Beast, tackling him from behind and locking their arms around his torso. Beast didn't budge an inch. It was like trying to tackle a mountain.
With a low chuckle, Beast brought his palm down on one of their skulls, driving him into the dirt. The rest rushed him in a desperate wave, weapons striking his chest and back, but Beast simply tanked the blows. He began deploying casual, heavy slaps. Every strike shattered bone; jaws splintered, and heads were violently spun 270 degrees around their spines.
The park became a graveyard of groaning men. Vic, watching from twenty paces away, felt a primal fear take root. He's a monster.
Pressing his comms button, Vic spoke over the static. "Sir, we are completely outmatched. Requesting immediate orders to abort, or we will be wiped out."
The voice of the Bald Man crackled back. "What? Don't tell me a single old man is giving you trouble."
"He isn't giving us trouble, sir, he is liquidating us! We are losing our best operatives."
A brief silence ensued. "Fine. Fall back. We are already moving on the safehouse. Henry and the woman are exposed."
Vic didn't waste a second. "All units, retreat!"
The few surviving men fled into the darkness. Vic turned to sprint toward his extraction vehicle. We have the location of the main target anyway, he rationalized. There's no point dying here.
"Leaving so soon?"
The voice was a hot breath against Vic's ear. His heart skipped a beat. Beast was running perfectly in stride with him, an inch away.
Beast reached out to grab him. Vic threw himself into a desperate roll. Beast's hand missed, colliding instead with a reinforced concrete retaining wall. The structure disintegrated into a cloud of dust and rubble.
Vic scrambled up against a bulletproof SUV, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"You know, growing old is very lonely," Beast said, closing the distance instantly.
Vic vaulted over the hood of the SUV, barely evading another crushing grasp. Desperate, he grabbed the edge of the driver-side door and yanked it off its hinges, lifting the armored steel to shield himself.
It offered no protection. Beast's fist punched cleanly through the bulletproof plating, striking Vic deep in the left flank. The blow tore a jagged, claw-like wound into his kidney. The steel door split in two.
Enduring the agonizing pain, Vic smashed the remaining fragments of the door into Beast's face. Beast absorbed the impact without a scratch, his grin widening as he caught Vic by the throat, hoisting him into the air.
"Any last words?"
Vic wheezed, suffocating under the iron grip. He could only raise a finger, pointing past the giant. "Behind... you..."
The roar of twin engines tore through the park. Two heavy sedans were barreling toward them at maximum speed.
Beast laughed. "Let's see if you can take a hit."
The sedans rammed the parked SUV, compounding the kinetic energy and sending the multi-ton vehicle sliding directly toward them. At the absolute last second, Beast threw Vic clear of the crash zone and planted his boots into the asphalt, meeting the sliding SUV with his bare hands. The metal groaned and buckled under his palms as he forced the vehicle to a dead stop.
Vic hit the pavement, his vision fading into black. Before he lost consciousness, he felt hands lifting him onto a getaway motorcycle, the engine screaming as they fled.
Beast shook the glass and debris from his arms, looking at the dazed drivers inside the two sedans.
Suddenly, Beast's eyes caught something sitting on the dashboard of one of the cars. His expression softened, and a bright smile lit up his face.
"Well, a mission is a mission, but first things first," Beast said, releasing his grip.
The two drivers stared at him, paralyzed by fear, waiting for the death blow.
"Are you two ready?" Beast asked cheerfully.
The men looked at each other, entirely bewildered.
"Let's play chess! I'm a huge fan," Beast rambled, settling himself on the hood of the car. "I always play with Henry, but I always lose. I mean, I let him win on purpose, obviously, because he gets moody, but..."
Trapped in their seats, the two syndicate assassins could do nothing but sit and listen.