Badass in Disguise Chapter 273

SPECTER's cold gaze bore into me after Milo had intercepted my knife.

"It seems you've chosen to die alongside him," SPECTER said, his voice eerily calm despite the tension crackling through the air.

His eyes shifted to Wraith and the Shadow clone. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he commanded, "Catch her. I want her alive."

The clone moved toward me with mechanical precision, while Wraith flanked me from the other side. I braced myself, calculating my odds against two of the organization's deadliest assets.

The clone struck first, aiming a vicious kick at my head. I ducked, but Wraith was already there, his fist sailing toward my ribs. I twisted, expecting impact—but it never came.

Instead, Wraith pulled his punch at the last second, the momentum carrying him past me. In one fluid motion, I spun behind him, and he pivoted, catching the clone's follow-up punch in his palm.

The room fell silent. Even SPECTER seemed momentarily stunned.

Wraith's sleeve tore as he extended his arm, revealing the gleaming metal beneath—a high-powered mechanical prosthetic. Before anyone could react, the compartment on his forearm slid open, and a miniature rocket launcher emerged.

"Surprise," he said flatly, firing directly at SPECTER.

The front-row bodyguards didn't hesitate. Six of them leaped in front of their master, their bodies intercepting the projectile. The explosion ripped through them, transforming them into a grotesque spray of blood and tissue.

When the smoke cleared, SPECTER sat untouched on his throne, not a hair out of place.

"Damn it!" Wraith spat, clearly disappointed his shot hadn't found its mark.

"Wraith," SPECTER's voice cut through the acrid smoke. "Even you have betrayed Shadow Organization."

Rage flickered in his eyes, but there was no shock there.

Before SPECTER could say more, the side door opened. A figure stepped through, walking with steady, confident strides.

Selene.

My breath caught. She'd been hanging from the ceiling, her body a canvas of torture. Now she moved with fluid grace, only the bloodstains on her clothes hinting at her previous condition.

She caught a tactical knife that Wraith tossed her way, twirling it once before settling into a fighting stance beside us.

"Wraith," SPECTER continued, his voice dangerously soft. "You and Selene seem to have a special relationship. When you brought Selene to me, claiming she had defected to Organization and been recruited by her, I had my doubts."

He leaned forward slightly. "I gave you Selene to dispose of as a test of loyalty. It seems my suspicions were correct."

Wraith's expression remained impassive. "You always were perceptive, SPECTER. Too bad it won't save you today."

SPECTER's gaze shifted to Zach, who still lay on the floor. "Ten minutes have long passed, yet the bomb in his stomach hasn't detonated. And our incapacitated friend seems surprisingly... capable."

Zach pushed himself to his feet, his movements no longer hampered by weakness. He looked momentarily confused, then understanding dawned on his face.

The injections Wraith had given him—they weren't the same paralyzing drugs he'd been receiving since his capture. They were antidotes, gradually restoring his strength.

Even more surprising was the realization that hit Zach as his senses fully returned—his wounds weren't nearly as severe as they appeared. What had seemed like torture-induced injuries were largely superficial, designed to look horrific while causing minimal actual damage.

SPECTER's expression hardened as he processed the elaborate deception.

"Surprised?" I asked, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice.

"I underestimated you," SPECTER admitted, his voice tight with controlled fury.

"You realized it too late," I replied, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly.

SPECTER turned to Selene. "Onyx and Void?"

"Unless something unexpected happened, you'll never see them again in this lifetime," Selene replied coolly.

Wraith stepped toward Zach, the mechanical fingers of his prosthetic hand making quick work of the handcuffs. He handed Zach a pistol and a combat knife.

"You're with him," Selene instructed, nodding toward Zach. "Take down Shadow."

"You can't possibly escape," SPECTER warned, his fingers drumming on the armrest of his throne. "This entire complex is on lockdown. Even if you somehow make it past this room, there are hundreds of operatives between you and freedom."

Wraith shrugged. "We're going to die either way. Might as well blow this hellhole to pieces before we go."

"Wishful thinking," SPECTER sneered. "Let's see what's faster—your feet or bullets." He raised his voice, addressing the room. "Kill them all! No mercy!"

The remaining bodyguards and assassins drew their weapons, an orchestra of clicks as safeties were disengaged and rounds chambered. Dozens of gun barrels pointed at our small group, promising a swift and brutal end.

None of us moved. We didn't even flinch.

SPECTER's eyes narrowed as realization dawned on him. He opened his mouth, perhaps to countermand his order, but it was too late.

The guards pulled their triggers in unison.

Instead of gunfire, the room filled with screams as weapons exploded in their hands, mangling fingers and shattering bones. Blood sprayed from dozens of mutilated palms.

As the head of Shadow Organization's weapons division, Wraith had access to every piece of equipment—and ample opportunity to modify them. Even after being removed from his position following Selene's return, he'd still found ways to sabotage these weapons.

"My turn," Wraith said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he fired another rocket at SPECTER.

This time, there were fewer bodyguards to intercept it. The explosion rocked the room, filling it with dust and debris.

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Selene and Wraith engaged the clone in a coordinated attack, their movements perfectly synchronized from years of working together. Meanwhile, Zach and I fought back-to-back against the remaining guards and assassins.

I tried to break through to SPECTER, but his remaining guards formed an impenetrable wall around him. For every one I took down, two more seemed to appear.

Blood flowed freely as our small group fought against overwhelming odds. We were all taking hits—Zach was bleeding from a slash across his cheek, and even Wraith's mechanical arm was sparking from damage.

Through the chaos, I caught glimpses of Selene and Wraith finally gaining the upper hand against the clone. With a perfectly executed maneuver, Wraith pinned the clone's arms while Selene moved in for the kill.

"No! Don't kill her!" Zach's desperate cry rang out across the room.

But Wraith didn't hesitate. His mechanical hand closed around the clone's throat, crushing her windpipe with a sickening crunch.

The clone's body collapsed to the floor, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Zach broke away from the fight, rushing toward the fallen clone with a howl of anguish that cut through the sounds of battle.

"Boss! Boss!" He fell to his knees beside her, his hands hovering over her body as if afraid to touch her. "No, no, no..."

He was so distraught that he didn't even notice an assassin approaching from behind, knife raised for a killing blow.

I lunged forward, driving my knife into the assassin's throat before he could reach Zach. Blood sprayed across my face as I twisted the blade and yanked it free.

"Kid!" I grabbed Zach's shoulders, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were wild, unfocused, swimming with tears. I shook him hard. "Look clearly, I am your boss, she's just a clone!"

His gaze locked with mine, recognition slowly filtering through the haze of grief. He stared into my eyes—Shadow's eyes.

"...Boss? Clone?" he whispered, his voice breaking.