Moonlight glinted off a dozen blades, surrounding Mac.
Shit.
“You’re out numbered,” said the soldier Mac had disarmed.
Mac shrugged. “Not a problem.”
The soldier snorted. “Not even you can defeat all of us.”
“You really want to kill a national hero?”
The man glanced at the others beside him. Guess he hadn’t thought of that.
“If it comes to me or you. . . .” He almost seemed apologetic.
“I get it.” What a pathetic way to meet his end. Although Harcourt hadn’t said kill him. Just stake him out and break his legs. Not an impossible situation. He’d faced worst. Of course that had been years ago, when he healed better.