The door exploded inward under Matteo's shoulder.
The two guards inside barely had time to react.
One reached for his weapon—Jianyu was faster, a precise shot to the shoulder that sent the man spinning into the wall.
The other lunged at Matteo, and suddenly they were grappling, the guard bigger but Matteo was fueled by desperation.
A knee to the gut. The guard doubled over.
Matteo brought his elbow down hard on the back of the man's neck, and he dropped.
"Clear," Jianyu said, his gun trained on the first guard who was clutching his bleeding shoulder, face twisted in pain.
"Where is he?" Matteo demanded, crossing to the wounded man. "Where's Felix?"
The guard spat blood. "Fuck you."
Matteo pressed the barrel of his gun against the man's good shoulder. "Wrong answer."
"Matteo." Jianyu's voice held a warning. "We don't have time."
He was right. More guards could come. They needed to move.
A sound from deeper in the building—a crash, maybe voices.
