“Contact. Two armed hostiles. Fourth-floor stairwell. Sending Chase to your position,” said Devin, motioning for Chase to take off.

“Copy. Sending backup your way.”

“You know where to go, right?” he said to Chase.

Chase nodded, his eyes glued to the two men steadily approaching.

“Then go,” said Devin. “Now!”

Chase took off, and the men bolted up the stairs side by side, heading straight for Devin. He waited until the last possible moment before pretending to follow Chase up the stairs—instead squaring off at the foot of the stairs, just out of their sight, and raising the baton. As he’d hoped, the two men bunched up taking the corner, the first head to appear absorbing a full-force, diagonal blow to the temple from Devin’s baton. The crack against his skull left no doubt that he was out of the fight.

The second attacker pushed his wilted colleague out of the way, then sliced wildly to create some space before quickly settling into a tight knife-fighting stance. Blade in close, pointed at Devin, off hand raised to block or deflect the baton. The guy knew what he was doing. Devin considered scrambling up the stairs but just as quickly dismissed the idea.

Timed with the right baton strike, Devin might be able to disengage from the fight and get up the stairs unscathed, but the chances were just as likely that he wouldn’t. He’d be giving up a controlled close-quarters engagement for a mad dash—that might or might not work.

The guy made the decision for him, thrusting with the knife and taking a small, noncommittal step forward—a basic feint designed to test Devin’s discipline. He kept the baton raised and remained in place, eliciting a grimace from his attacker. The man had just accepted the basic reality of their predicament. This would end terribly for one of them, and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t be him. The heavy fire door on the stairwell landing above slammed shut, signaling Chase’s escape onto the fifth floor.

His opponent’s eyes tracked the noise, briefly flickering between Devin and the stairs a few too many times. Done right, the man could carefully retreat up the stairs and keep Devin out of striking distance. When his eyes darted in the other direction, checking out the stairwell door, Devin saw an opportunity to tip the entire encounter in his favor. He shifted a few feet to the left, subtly eliminating the stairs as an option. The man smirked—before breaking for the door.