Chapter 10
The two enforcers closed the distance rapidly, their heavy boots slapping rhythmically against the concrete floor. The taller of the two, a scarred brute with a jagged knife scar running from his ear down to his collarbone, cracked his knuckles with a wet, popping sound. "Looks like the stray cat wants to play tough, boss," he muttered, casting a sideways glance at Van Truong’s idling sedan.
Van Truong shifted his car into reverse, his eyes hard and devoid of any human empathy. "Teach her a lesson she won't forget," he commanded coldly. "Make sure she can't hold a shovel, let alone a pen, by tomorrow morning." With a screech of rubber, the dark sedan backed out of the bay, spun around, and accelerated toward the exit ramp, leaving Minh alone in the dim garage with the two professional thugs.
The scarred enforcer lunged first, throwing a heavy, looping right hook aimed directly at Minh’s jaw. It was a crude, street-fighting punch fueled by brute strength rather than technique. Minh ducked beneath the arc with effortless grace, letting the momentum carry the heavy man past her. As he stumbled forward, she drove a sharp elbow upward into his ribs, hearing the satisfying grunt of expelled air as he slammed into the side of a concrete pillar.
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The second enforcer hesitated for a fraction of a second, surprised by the speed and precision of her counterattack. That hesitation was fatal. Minh spun on her heel, brought her leg up in a blistering high kick that caught the second man squarely under the chin, snapping his head back and sending him crashing backward onto the hood of an abandoned Honda Civic. The metal buckled under his weight with a loud groan.
Before either man could recover, Minh stepped over the fallen brute, her expression cold and completely devoid of fear. She reached down, grabbed the scarred enforcer by his jacket collar, and hauled him to his feet with surprising strength. "Tell Director Truong," she whispered into his ear, her voice carrying the chill of a winter gale, "that the ledger is almost full. And the next time he sends dogs, he should bring a larger pack." She shoved him away so hard he tripped over his own boots and sprawled face-first into a puddle of oil. Without looking back, she walked unhurriedly toward her motorcycle, kicked the kickstarter until the engine roared to life, and sped out into the rainy night.
