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Agent Drake’s Knife

The gunman’s hands were shackled behind his back. He sat with his back arched in a hardwood chair. There were shackles on the gunman’s legs and he loved moving his feet around and rattling the leg shackles, which annoyed Agent James.

“Hey knock it off, big guy! Be still!” Agent James scolded the gunman with a visceral disgust in his eyes. Agent James still had a throbbing in his head, and other parts of his body ached from the fight he had with the gunman. The veteran FBI agent had to hold an ice pack against his swollen cheek where the gunman punched him. Agent James also had a bandage over his nose, making it hard for him to breathe.

Agent Martinez held her gun in her lap while sitting in a chair near the room’s door. The woman wished she were at home with her husband and her sons. She didn’t want to look at the gunman after what he did. Agent Martinez wanted to get as far away from the terrorist as possible. The hairs on her neck stiffened when she looked up to se

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