It was the dead of winter, and Joan Shaw was bundled up in layer after layer of thick clothing. No matter how strong he was, he wouldn't be able to just rip them all off.
He began to prowl around the warehouse like a hungry wolf, searching for something sharp to cut through Joan Shaw's clothes.
Joan Shaw gently shifted her body, trying to get the chair she was tied to to move with her, inching slowly toward the stun baton.
The man in black seemed to notice her intent. With a vicious kick, he sent the stun baton skittering to the side.
After a CLANG and a CLATTER, he held up a piece of scrap metal and advanced on Joan Shaw, one step at a time.
He pressed the metal shard against her jacket, slowly slicing through the nylon fabric.
If she dared to struggle, the sharp metal would likely slice open her neck.
The man in black grabbed her chin with one hand while his other hand continued to use the piece of metal to cut through her sweater.
RRRIP—
