Chapter 8 - The Hostage Exchange
"You have thirty minutes to bring me the passcode, Clara," Garrett sneered through the television speakers.
"If you involve the police, I will end her life."
The screen went instantly black, leaving me in agonizing silence.
I turned to Vance, feeling a terrifying, cold resolve wash over my entire soul.
"Give me a spare weapon," I demanded, holding my hand out.
Vance reached into his tactical vest and handed me a heavy, loaded Glock.
We drove silently to the secluded neighborhood where I had grown up.
We parked two blocks away and moved through the dark, overgrown backyard.
I kicked the back door open, leveling my weapon as I stepped into the kitchen.
Garrett was standing in the center of the living room, holding my mother tightly against his chest.
"Put the gun down, Clara, you don't have the stomach to kill me," Garrett taunted.
"Let her go, Garrett, you already lost," I yelled back, keeping my aim perfectly steady.
Garrett laughed and pulled a silver lighter from his pocket.
The heavy, sickening smell of gasoline suddenly filled the entire room.
He had soaked the carpets, the curtains, and the furniture in lethal fuel.
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"I already transferred the money using the locket, I just need your voice print to authorize it," Garrett revealed.
"Say the code phrase right now, or we all burn together."
