Chapter 5 - Crossfire in Fifth Avenue“Down! Everybody on the floor!” the lead gunman roared, racking the slide of a submachine gun with a terrifying metallic clack.
Panic detonated instantly. Trays flew into the air, soda cups burst across the floor, and patrons scrambled in blind terror.
Marcus’s professional calm vanished in a split second. His hand whipped under his coat, drawing a sleek Sig Sauer pistol, but before he could raise it, a deafening crack split the air. A bullet slammed into the wall inches from his head, showering him in plaster dust.
“Vance! Hands on the table where we can see them!” another gunman screamed, charging down the center aisle.
Jonathan Vance did not flinch. Seated amidst the flying debris and screaming patrons, the billionaire slowly set down his coffee cup. He didn't look like a terrified victim; he looked like a predator who had just realized someone was trying to poach his kill. With chilling composure, Vance reached into his jacket, but instead of surrendering, his fingers closed around a heavy, silver-plated revolver.
In the middle of the absolute madness, Sarah stood paralyzed.
“Mommy! Mommy, help!” Emma screamed, the deafening noise sending the little girl into a blind panic. She broke away from Sarah’s grip, stumbling out into the open aisle toward the front.
“Emma! No!” Sarah shrieked.
Time seemed to fracture. One of the masked intruders, startled by Emma’s sudden movement, spun around, his weapon swinging directly toward the terrified, yellow-dressed child frozen in the center of the aisle.
Marcus moved with inhuman speed, diving across the table rows, but he was too far away.
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Sarah didn't think. Instinct, primal and fierce, overrode all terror. She lunged forward, throwing herself across the open space just as the gunman’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Bang!
