Chapter 17 - The Turning Point
Time slowed down to an agonizing crawl. I stared down the dark barrel of Victor’s gun, feeling the absolute stillness of the night air. I thought of Chloe—her bright smile, her soft laugh, the little girl who had saved my life by whispering those terrifying words about the white powder in my tea.
I couldn't let them win. Not here. Not now.
“Any last words, Nora?” Victor asked, his finger tightening slowly on the trigger.
“Yeah,” a raspy voice echoed from the floor.
Victor blinked, momentarily distracted.
Before Victor could pull the trigger, David—who had secretly managed to slide his hands free from the zip-ties using a hidden lockpick in his sleeve—lunged upward with explosive fury, tackling Victor’s legs with all his remaining strength.
Bang!
The silenced pistol fired wildly, sending a bullet tearing through the sheet metal roof high above our heads.
Victor stumbled backward, cursing furiously, while his two mercenaries rushed forward to subdue David, raining heavy kicks down upon him.
“Stop it! Leave him alone!” I screamed, lunging forward to pull one of the guards away, but a heavy blow to my shoulder sent me crashing hard against the concrete floor, a wave of sharp pain radiating through my body.
Victor regained his balance, brushing off his suit jacket with a furious snarl, his face twisted into a mask of pure rage. He picked up his dropped pistol, pointing it directly down at my head as I struggled to push myself up from the floor.
“End of the line, Nora,” Victor hissed, his finger pressing down on the trigger.
Suddenly, a blinding wall of white light flooded the cavernous warehouse from every entrance.
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“FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPONS! FEDERAL AGENTS!”
The deafening roar of bullhorns echoed off the corrugated metal walls as heavily armed tactical units swarmed through the bay doors, flashbang grenades detonating with thunderous cracks that shook the ground beneath us.
