Chapter 5 - The Standoff
Nobody moved a muscle.
The hum of the commercial refrigerators suddenly seemed incredibly loud.
Diane’s hands were shaking, but the gun was pointed directly at Grant’s chest.
"I am not going to prison," she whispered, her eyes wide and manic.
"Give me the real flash drive, Grant."
I gasped.
"The one you threw in the water was a fake?" I asked.
Grant didn't take his eyes off Diane.
"Of course it was."
"I knew Mark would try something, so I brought a decoy."
Vanessa crawled away from us, hiding behind a prep counter.
"Mom, put the gun down!" Vanessa screamed.
"They're going to call the police!"
Diane let out a terrifying, unhinged laugh.
"The police can't help us now, Vanessa."
"Mark drained my accounts an hour ago."
"We have nothing left."
She took a step closer to us, her finger tightening on the trigger.
"Give me the drive, Grant, or I swear I will shoot."
I couldn't lose my son.
I stepped sideways, trying to put myself in front of him.
Grant gently pushed me behind him again.
"Diane, you don't even know how to decrypt the files," Grant said calmly.
"You need my biometric scan."
"A dead body won't help you."
Diane sneered.
"I don't need the files."
"I need the drive so I can trade it to Mark in exchange for my money."
She cocked the hammer of the revolver.
The loud click echoed in the silent kitchen.
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the worst.
Suddenly, the fire alarm blared to life.
A deafening siren filled the room, and the ceiling sprinklers activated.
Freezing cold water showered down on all of us.
Diane shrieked as the water hit her eyes.
She instinctively raised her free hand to wipe her face.
In that split second, Grant threw the heavy iron skillet.
It struck Diane's wrist with a sickening crunch.
The gun flew out of her hand and skittered across the wet tile floor.
Before Grant could run to grab it, a boot stepped firmly onto the weapon.
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We looked up through the pouring water.
It was Mark, and he was holding a very sharp kitchen knife.
