The door BANGED open. A thug forced his way in, holding a gun and choking a little girl.
Sean Quinn, hidden beside the door, saw his chance. He moved like the wind, kicking the gun from the man's hand. The gun went off—BANG!—firing a shot into the ceiling. At the same instant, Philip Lefevre sprang forward. A gleaming throwing knife flashed through the air like lightning, embedding itself in the thug's left eye.
With a blood-curdling scream, the thug was forced to release the little girl. He clutched his wounded eye, stumbling in circles from the sheer pain.
The little girl was incredibly quick-witted. She immediately dashed into the hospital room, clapped her hands over her head, and scrambled under the bed.
Seeing this, the other thug—the one in the black stocking mask—rushed forward, shouting, "Fuck! Who did it? Who—" Before he could finish, a flying kick from behind connected squarely with the back of his head. The thug face-planted, and the gun skittered from his grasp.
