Chapter 9 - THE STANDOFF
Marcus roared and lunged, swinging the crowbar at Leo's head.
Leo ducked, his years of dodging drunken fights on the streets kicking in. The crowbar smashed into the marble pastry counter, sending shards of stone flying. Marcus stumbled off-balance.
Leo swung the cast-iron skillet, catching Marcus hard in the ribs. The older man gasped, dropping the gasoline can, which spilled violently across the tile floor.
"I'm going to kill you!" Marcus screamed, grabbing a heavy chef's knife from the magnetic rack.
"Drop it, Marcus!" a voice shouted from the dining room doors.
Margaret stood there, holding a licensed revolver pointed squarely at Marcus’s chest. She had come to the restaurant to grab some paperwork and heard the glass shatter.
"Margaret," Marcus sneered, though his hand shook. "You wouldn't."
"I protected my father's restaurant for thirty years," Margaret said, her hand completely steady. "And I will protect my new head chef. Drop the knife."
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Sirens wailed in the distance. The alley camera's silent alarm had triggered the police. Realizing it was over, Marcus dropped the knife. The fight drained out of him, leaving only a pathetic, broken man standing in a puddle of gasoline.
When the police dragged Marcus out in handcuffs for the final time, Margaret lowered the gun and pulled Leo into a fierce hug.
