He could hear the guns, each bullet coming at them. Their heartbeats were muffled but he could tell it was more than the two of them could take alone at this point. Maybe if he had been well and whole, he could take them.

Matt pushes himself up to his knees, determined to make a last stand here on the roof. The wind whipping through and threatening to tug them both off the roof. He chuckled despite the circumstance. "You're lying. And I'm not going anywhere." He was injured, no batons, no staff. Just his fists left and he wasn't going down without a fight. Forcing himself to get to his feet as the goons pounded on the door.