Chapter 9 - The Takedown
The brass lamp collided heavily with Ethan's shoulder, throwing his aim off just as the gun fired.
The bullet shattered the bedroom window, sending a shower of glass raining onto the floor.
Before Ethan could recover his balance, Richard launched himself out of the wheelchair.
He tackled his younger brother to the ground with terrifying force.
Years of suppressed rage fueled Richard's movements as he pinned Ethan to the hardwood floor.
Ethan thrashed wildly, trying to raise the gun again.
I grabbed my heavy medical supply bag by the strap and swung it with all my might.
The bag struck Ethan squarely in the face, knocking him instantly unconscious.
The gun slipped from his limp fingers, sliding across the room.
Richard stood up, breathing heavily, and immediately pulled out his cell phone.
"It's over," Richard said, dialing a number he had kept memorized for months.
He was calling his private FBI contacts, the only people he trusted in the entire city.
"They will be here in five minutes," Richard assured me, pulling me into a tight, protective hug.
Suddenly, the sound of a shotgun pumping echoed loudly from the hallway.
Chloe stepped through the broken doorway, her eyes wide with psychotic fury.
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She aimed the long barrel of the hunting rifle directly at my chest.
"Nobody is leaving this house alive," she hissed, her finger resting heavily on the trigger.
