Goddammit, she was goading him. It was an impressive show of bravery, all right, and if his estimation of her wasn't already sky-high then it would have increased. Still, Lipton was a sensible, rational man, and in that moment as he tugged against his chains - his wrists were raw, but he barely noticed the pain - he still wished she had a better sense of self-preservation.

There was no way Tsung could refuse odds like this, but he honestly hated - loathed - the idea of being held here and forced to watch Sonya be killed by that son of a bitch. He stared at where his rifle lay, out of reach, on the ground, and knew both that it would be not only impossible to reach his knife, but that it would be useless against the chains, and he had no ability to throw it with the way he was held.

"Fighting a wounded opponent, Tsung? That the only way you know how to win a fight?" He didn't want to destract Sonya, but if he could destract the sorcerer, well, that seemed to be the only way he could help right now.