Zack had already made his peace with the knowledge that his career was over, and the encounter with Griffin, while illuminating about the sad state of affairs at Langley, had only reinforced the fact that he’d made the right decision. “Actually, you’re wrong. It did make a difference: to Belyakov’s family and Moretti’s girlfriend.” The anger built again. “Because of me, they’re alive,” Zack said, his voice raised to a shouting level. “You would’ve killed them because that’s what you are, a stone-cold killer without a conscience.”

Before Griffin could react, Zack leapt forward, his fury spurring him into action, and struck Griffin on the chin with a strong jab that would’ve made Joe Louis proud. The blow caught Griffin by surprise, and he tried to bring his hands up. Zack slipped to the side and delivered a powerful punch to Griffin’s gut just below his ribs. He was rewarded with a grunt, and the big man began to bend forward. Zack brought his left arm up in a short arc, a picture-perfect hook aimed at Griffin’s chin—and missed.

Griffin had feinted with his head and tilted it back at the last second, drawing Zack into him. As the punch passed by his face, Griffin used Zack’s momentum, shoved his arm away, and stood up to his full height. Before Zack could respond, Griffin reached under Zack’s head with his right arm and slid it under Zack’s chin, putting him in a brilliantly executed front naked chokehold. With his left arm, Griffin had pinned Zack’s left arm against the side of his head, connected his hands, and squeezed.

Zack felt the pressure as his windpipe was cut off, but it wasn’t his breath he was concerned about. Griffin had cut off the blood flow to his brain, and he felt the effects immediately. He knew he only had seconds left, and he reached down to his belt with his left hand, unsheathed the black Benchmade fixed-blade Infidel knife, and pressed it to Griffin’s stomach with enough pressure to hurt without piercing his flesh.

The blade had the intended impact, and Griffin’s grip on his neck loosened, albeit slightly. “Stop,” Zack croaked, and pressed the blade harder.

“Fine,” Griffin whispered into his ear, and released him from the chokehold just as quickly as he’d applied it.

Zack staggered backward and raised his head to see Griffin once again look at him with that cold, calculating stare. “Not even an A for effort, Zachary. Get it through your head. You can’t beat me, no matter what.”

In that moment that spanned between them, Zack knew with perfect clarity that Griffin was right. But he didn’t care. Not anymore. He inhaled, caught his breath, and said, “If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you, no matter what the agency says about it.”