Bianca had been looking for a chance to strike.

I won’t give up without a fight, she told herself determinedly.

Her hand felt sweaty as she held the pen tightly in her left hand. The assassin, Wasim, was getting increasingly agitated. His eyes went to the elevator numbers above the door, as they flashed swiftly. He held the knife to Bianca’s throat and wished he was out of the elevator. Bianca glanced at the plump woman who was clutching her bag and looking terrified. She ...