Chapter 8 - THE BOARDROOM BLITZ
The contractors drew their batons, moving in with brutal efficiency.
“Stay behind me,” Claire told Nathan.
“Claire, they have weapons—”
She didn't wait. The first guard lunged. Claire didn't strike him; she stepped into his guard, grabbed his wrist, and used his own forward momentum to send him crashing into the heavy glass desk. The impact shattered the table.
The second and third guards attacked simultaneously. Claire’s movements were liquid poetry. The Stillwater Form was not about aggression; it was about redirecting force. She danced between them, her hands deflecting blows, her footwork flawless. She swept the legs of one, causing him to crash into the other.
Vivienne screamed in frustration. “Shoot her! Shoot her!”
The fourth guard pulled a suppressed pistol. Claire kicked a heavy chair directly into his knees. As he stumbled, she closed the distance in a fraction of a second, striking the nerve cluster in his shoulder. The gun dropped to the floor. Claire kicked it under the sofa.
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Within sixty seconds, four elite guards lay groaning on the floor. Claire stood breathing evenly, her uniform perfectly straight.
Arthur and Vivienne were frozen in terror. Nathan stepped over the bodies, grabbing the journal and the poison receipts. “We’ll see you at the board meeting tomorrow, Arthur. Bring a lawyer.”
