Remo struck his cane on the floor, signaling the guards. With immediate effect, the two men pulled out pocket knives, each having two-inch blades in their sheaths.
"What's this?" Nolan asked, guarding up once again as he fought against the grip of the guards. But one of them drove the knife into his thigh with a swift delivery, startling him and sending a wave of shock and pain charging into his head.
"Agh, what the fuck, what—no, fuck, please, no," that was the beginning of a continuous torture of the short blades piercing through his skin without any idea where the next attack was coming from.
