Chapter 5 - The Final Stand
Richard knew he had seconds. He dragged Mark toward the center of the room and used a length of heavy-duty garden hose to tie his hands to the support pillar. He didn't care if it was tight.
He grabbed the poker and ran up the stairs. He pushed the kitchen chair aside and burst into the kitchen just as the front door was kicked open.
A man in a dark tactical jacket stepped into the house, a pistol leveled at chest height. He didn't look like a cop. He looked like a professional.
"Where's the drive, Richard?" the man said, his voice flat.
Richard held his ground. "You're not getting anything."
"Your daughter had a flash drive in her purse. We know she hid it. Give it to us, and maybe you and the kid walk out of here."
"I don't have it," Richard said.
The man stepped closer, his eyes scanning the room. He didn't see the woman hiding in the bathroom, and he didn't see the satellite phone on the counter, still showing a 'Connected' status.
"I'm going to check the basement," the man said.
"Don't," Richard warned.
As the man turned to head toward the basement door, Sarah burst from the bathroom, screaming. The man pivoted, distracted for a split second. That was all Richard needed. He threw the heavy fire poker with every ounce of strength he had left. It hit the man in the leg, sending him crashing down.
His gun slid across the polished wood floor.
Richard lunged for it, his hands closing around the cold steel just as a siren—faint, but unmistakable—pierced the sound of the wind.
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The man scrambled to his feet, limping toward the door. Richard didn't shoot. He stood over him, the gun steady. "The police are here. It’s over."
The man looked at the gun, then at Richard’s face. He saw the cold, unwavering resolve of a father who had been pushed to the edge. The man didn't fight. He turned and sprinted out into the blizzard, disappearing into the white.
