Chapter 7 - The Master Plan
Grant stood perfectly still, a cold smile forming on his lips.
"Did you really think I’d bring the only copy of my life's work to a room full of snakes?" Grant asked.
Mark stared at the blinking device on the floor.
"What did you just do?" Mark whispered, his voice trembling.
"That’s a live-stream audio transmitter," Grant explained calmly.
"I’ve been recording everything since I tapped my glass in the banquet hall."
I covered my mouth with both hands, overwhelmed by my son's brilliance.
Grant pointed at Diane, who was still groaning on the wet floor.
"It recorded Diane confessing to embezzlement."
He pointed at the heavy kitchen doors.
"It recorded you admitting to locking hundreds of people in a room against their will."
Finally, he looked directly at Mark's panicked face.
"And it just uploaded all of it to the cloud, directly linked to the FBI's cybercrime tip line."
Mark scrambled backward, leaving the knife on the floor.
"You're lying," Mark stammered.
"You said the Wi-Fi was jammed."
Grant laughed.
"I own a tech company, Mark."
"This runs on a localized satellite frequency."
"You can't jam it."
Vanessa slowly peeked her head over the prep counter.
"Does that mean the police are actually coming?" she asked, her voice cracking.
Suddenly, the deafening sound of a police helicopter echoed from above the building.
Bright searchlights swept across the frosted windows of the kitchen.
The blaring sound of police sirens filled the air outside.
Mark realized he was completely trapped.
He looked around frantically, his eyes darting from the exits to the oven.
"I'm not going to jail," Mark screamed.
He grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher from the wall.
Instead of aiming it at us, he swung it brutally against the kitchen's main electrical panel.
Sparks showered everywhere as the panel shattered.
The entire building plunged into absolute darkness once again.
"Mom, get down!" Grant yelled, tackling me to the floor.
In the pitch black, we heard the heavy metal door of the loading dock roll open.
Cold night air rushed into the room.
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By the time the emergency backup lights flickered on, Mark was gone.
But he didn't leave empty-handed.
