I ain't a killer,

But don't push me…

Tupac Amaru Shakur, Hail Mary Intro

The washrooms on Level 6 of the Eden Maximum Security Prison were relatively quiet. It was five o'clock on a Wednesday evening, and the prisoners were having dinner in the dining halls of the various blocks.

 There was a man in the washroom standing under one of the showers, and the water was cascading on him. He was a tall, muscular, well-formed man. His back was to the door, and the muscles in his broad, muscular back rippled as he leaned forward and the water fell down his powerful frame.

 His chest was broad and tapered down to a lean waist and tight, masculine thighs. The arms were broad and sinewy, and the dark hair formed a dark, rich carpet on his chest. His head was bowed, but it was evident that his face was incredibly handsome, though bearded now. A strong face, but softened by the exuberant hair of his brows and eyelashes that gave his face a little hint of the sensuous.

His lips were full and beautiful, the nose well-chiselled and straight. If he smiled, his cheeks had hints of dimples, but he rarely smiled these days.

The eyes below the brow were cold, hard eyes, taking nothing for granted, and perpetually filled with a cold gleam that tended to chill many who felt their full latent blast.

 Outside on the corridor, the door at the far end opened, and a prison guard with a holstered gun came through. Behind him was a prisoner in handcuffs. This prisoner was a tall, muscular, powerful-looking young man exuding palpable energy. He was bald, and he had a savage-looking scar running from the left side of his brow across his cheek and down the corner of his lips.

 Behind these two men was another guard who was holding a rifle.

They walked quickly along the corridor and when they got to the entrance of the washroom, they stopped.

The prison guard in the lead quickly held up a key on a chain. The powerful prisoner held up his hands and the guard hurriedly unlocked the handcuffs.

 They opened the door, and the prisoner entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. The two prison guards took vantage positions on each side of the door and waited.

The mini-giant quickly withdrew a knife from the pocket of his prison garb and speedily put it on the sink to his right, and then he hurriedly took off his clothes and hanged them on a rail where the clothes of the bathing man were also hanging.

 This new prisoner then picked up the knife and held its blade away from his thigh as he stealthily crept up on the closed door of the bathroom where the handsome prisoner was taking a bath.

The shower was turned off and the huge prisoner waited for a brief second before crashing a ferocious foot into the door, making it swing open and bounce off the wall.

 The man who was taking the shower turned around almost slowly, and his eyes took in the huge giant at the entrance of the door with the knife in his hand.

The prisoner with the ugly scar on his cheek grinned darkly at the calm man inside the shower.

"Prodigal," he said coldly. "We meet at last."

 The man in the shower's face was cold and calm as he appraised the huge man blocking his entrance. There was no fear on his face, and this began to infuriate the scarred man.

"I'm Condor," the powerful man said with another crooked grin. "Just want you to know I'm gonna kill you, Prodigal."

The man in the shower still did not budge, but his eyes slowly noticed the knife which was held stiffly in the hand of his attacker.

 The man in the shower reached up suddenly and dragged down the towel that was hanging across the top of the wall, folded it in two and wound it around his right wrist.

"Mr. Chris Bawa, a.k.a. the Prodigal," Condor said with a nasty smile. "Say goodbye, pal."

Then Condor came for him with the knife arcing round in a savage cut towards his stomach.

 Chris took a step back, making the tip of the knife miss his stomach, and then he flicked his towel off his wrist in a powerful swipe that crashed into his attacker's eyes with a solid thump.

Condor gasped as pain seared through his eyes, and he slashed his knife savagely around in an expert series of attacking moves, and this told Chris that the knife was poisoned and his attacker just needed a nick on his body to release the deadly toxins on the knife.

 Chris jumped back and lashed out savagely with his right foot straight into the huge man's throat. The man gasped with sudden pain and shock, taking a step back, and then Chris followed with a savage strike with the edge of his right palm into the side of the man's neck.

The savage blow should have broken the man's neck, but he was a strong boy with well-developed muscles, and at the last moment he hunched his neck, reducing the devastating effect of the blow.

 But he tottered backwards, and that was what Chris needed.

The bathroom was too constricted, and it would be very hard to avoid that poisoned knife in there. He jumped slightly, held the sides of the walls for leverage, and kicked with both feet into the man's chest.

 The impact lifted Condor off his feet and threw him backwards, and this allowed Chris Bawa some time to slip out of the bathroom and face his opponent in the wider space of the bathroom.

Condor was well-trained, and he quickly switched the knife to his left hand and held it down as he slightly held out his right hand. His lips were now drawn back from his lips in a savage snarl-like grimace as he watched the calm-faced Chris.

 He moved in fast, feigning to the right and hitting to the left quickly, aiming for the broad surface of Chris' chest. Chris Bawa side-stepped and spun away immediately as the knife came swinging back in a savage arc, the tip missing Chris' neck by a hair's breadth.

 Condor grunted and sprang for another strike, expecting Chris to move backwards so that his second spring would bring the knife directly into Chris' body, but Chris spun to the left rather so that the man's lethal second spring sent him shooting harmlessly into space.

He turned around and his face was now a mixture of frustration and mounting confusion.

 Condor growled and flew at Chris again, his movements lightning-quick, slashing and thrusting savagely with a series of perfected attack moves, but as good as he was, as fast as he was, Chris was always a shade faster.

He moved like a flicker, almost tauntingly, evading attack after attack from Condor.

 Finally, Condor stopped attacking and glared at Chris with sweat on his face and body, panting hard. His eyes were now closed into deadly slits.

"You know the manual moves!" Condor said, and for a moment there was grudging respect on his face. "Indeed, you've mastered the fighting manuals of SPF. But I'm the best SPF agent now, Prodigal! And I'm going to get you!"

The assassin hissed dangerously and crouched.

 "I'm the best," he muttered. "I can take you. Just a nick. Just a nick and you'll be dead! If I kill Prodigal, the legendary Prodigal… I'll be a legend!"

With a savage snarl, he leapt again and twisted sharply with the knife aimed at Chris' neck.

Rocking out of range, Chris Bawa swung a savage fist into the point of Condor's jaw and there was the unhealthy breaking sound of bones as the man's jaw snapped!

 Chris' next blow caught Condor in the rib cage with devastating effect, sending the giant tottering backwards with flailing arms.

Chris Bawa crashed his foot on the man's knee, shattering the kneecap, and Condor wailed with agony as Chris' uppercut almost tore his head off.

 Condor crashed to the floor and the knife in his hand dug deep into his own right thigh!

The assassin stared with horror at the knife, and then his eyes opened with unbearable pain as the poison on the knife went into his bloodstream.

Chris' eyes narrowed as he watched the horrible poison attacking the man's heart. He knew this was the death that had been meant for him.

 Condor thrashed savagely like a man being electrocuted, his hands and legs beating horrible staccato sounds on the floor, and a moment later he started to froth greatly from the mouth as he became still in death.

 Chris' face was grim as he knelt beside the corpse, grabbed Condor's hand and then pulled the knife out of the man's thigh. Carefully, still holding Condor's hand, he wiped the blood off the blade as best as he could on the dead man's thigh, and then carefully – very carefully – Chris Bawa used the tip of the knife to make a small nick on his own wrist.

 The poison rushed through Chris Bawa immediately, causing him to groan and move backwards. He crashed on the floor, and a second later his body began to twitch and burn.

 He gritted his teeth against the searing pain, and a moment later, he crashed fully on the floor and remained still.