Randal picked up the dropped baton and killed the first guard with a blow to the temple. No time to waste. He emerged into the hall. It was similar to his cell, wet stone walls and floor, but the light was overpowering, his eyes so accustomed to the darkness.

Squinting, he kept moving, ignoring the headache pounding behind his eyes as adrenaline flooded his system. It wasn’t nanaline, but it would do.

Ran heard a guard charging down the next hallway. He waited, then struck him in the throat as he rounded the corner.

Now the Special had two batons.