“Oh, Kristi. Will you always be a tomboy?” she asked herself in an old woman’s voice. After staring for another second, she answered. “You bet, grandmum!”

The elevator doors finally opened. Just as Tanner was about to step in, a figure with a black mask rushed out of the car and grabbed her around the throat. She immediately brought her knee up and struck the attacker hard in the groin. He doubled over, but not before he lifted her up and threw her backwards off of her feet. She fell to the floor on her back. By the time her assailant recovered and came at her again, she was back on her feet. While he reached for a baton, she removed the leather glove from her left hand. When he swung at her with the baton, she weaved, guided his arm away and smashed her elbow into his forehead. He stumbled back a couple of steps. She advanced, flattened her left hand and slashed him across his chest with her nails. His jacket and shirt ripped open exposing his chest. A second later a red line of blood appeared. Without hesitation she stuck the same flattened hand under the bleeding man’s chin, right above the Adam’s apple. The attacker did not soften his stance. She jabbed him once forcing his head backward. He threw down the club.

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