They laughed when an elite soldier shoved her across the training mat, right up until her counter-punch dropped him like a stone.

Knox groaned.

It was a guttural, agonizing sound that tore through the quiet room. He rolled onto his stomach, his large hands gripping the black rubber matting as he forced his arms to straighten. His muscles trembled violently under the strain.

His face was a mask of dark, burning humiliation. Sweat and blood dripped from his chin onto the floor as he forced his legs under him, shaking his head side to side to clear the blinding white spots dancing across his vision.

"Get up, Knox," someone muttered from the crowd, but the voice was soft, pitying, and completely devoid of its earlier swagger.

Knox forced himself to his feet. He staggered back two paces, bumping heavily into one of the steel support beams before catching his balance. His jaw was already swelling, turning a deep, ugly shade of purple under his fair skin.

He looked at her.

For the first time since he had shoved her across the mat, Knox looked at her not as a woman, not as a civilian contractor, and not as an easy target. He looked at her with a mixture of raw, blinding rage and deep, instinctual horror.

"You..." Knox choked out, his voice thick with blood and broken pride. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the red smear on his knuckles. "You... you hit me."

The woman did not move toward him. She didn't adopt a victory stance. She didn't smile.

"You just beat me," Knox said in utter disbelief, his eyes wide, his chest heaving as he tried to reconcile his two hundred and twenty pounds of elite military training with the fact that he had been dropped in less than three seconds. "How the hell did you just beat me?"