Chapter 8 - Blood on the WaterFor a split second, time stood still. Then, all hell broke loose.
Volkov’s men drew their weapons, but Paula was faster, shooting the chandelier above them. It crashed down in a shower of crystal and sparks, plunging the room into darkness.
"Mateo! Leo! Run to me!" I roared over the gunfire.
I grabbed my boys, shoving them under the reinforced oak table. EfraÃn lunged at me in the dark with a combat knife, his face twisted in pure rage.
"You ruin everything, Esteban!" he screamed, slashing at my chest. The blade tore through my suit, grazing my ribs. I grunted, pivoting and driving my knee into his stomach. EfraÃn doubled over, and I slammed my elbow into the back of his neck, knocking him out cold.
The emergency backup lights flickered on, bathing the room in a bloody red glow.
Tomás was cowering in the corner, holding his hands up. But my mother—she was holding a gun, pointed directly at Paula’s head.
"Checkmate, Esteban," my mother said coldly. "Give Volkov the tablet, or your ex-wife dies, and the boys lose their mother."
Before I could move, a deafening air horn blasted from the outside deck. A police helicopter hovered outside the windows, blinding us with a massive searchlight.
"NYPD! Drop your weapons!" a voice boomed through a megaphone.
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My mother hesitated, squinting against the blinding light. It was all the distraction we needed.
But the shot that rang out didn't come from my mother's gun.
