Chapter 7 - THE TURN OF THE TIDE
I lunged forward with explosive speed.
I grabbed the barrel of the hunting rifle just as Sarah pulled the trigger.
*BANG!*
The bullet blasted straight through the ceiling plaster, showering us in white dust and debris.
The recoil jerked the weapon violently.
I twisted the rifle hard to the right, wrenching it completely out of Sarah's grip.
Sarah stumbled backward, gasping for air as she collided with a marble side table.
Margaret shrieked in rage, lunging at me with her fingernails extended like claws.
She aimed directly for my eyes.
I ducked under her wild swipe, planting my foot firmly behind her ankle.
Margaret tripped over my leg and crashed heavily onto the floor, her pristine uniform tearing at the shoulder.
"Lena, take the boys and run!" I shouted over my shoulder.
"Get out through the front gates! Flag down anyone you see!"
Lena didn't hesitate.
She scooped Nico and Noah into her arms, sprinting toward the grand foyer.
"Stop them!" Sarah screamed, scrambling to her feet and diving toward the heavy brass fireplace poker.
She grabbed the iron rod and swung it wildly toward Lena's back.
"Oh no you don't!" I roared, throwing the rifle aside and tackling Sarah to the floor.
We rolled across the thick Persian rug, wrestling for control of the heavy iron poker.
Sarah was surprisingly strong, fueled by years of adrenaline and madness.
She jammed her elbow directly into my ribs, knocking the breath from my lungs.
I gasped, my grip loosening.
Sarah raised the poker high above her head, her face twisted in a mask of pure hatred.
"You should have stayed dead in Geneva, Ethan!" she screamed, bringing the heavy iron down toward my skull.
I threw my hands up, catching the poker inches from my face.
My muscles strained, trembling under the immense weight.
Margaret crawled over on hands and knees, grabbing a heavy glass vase from the coffee table.
"I'll finish him!" Margaret shrieked, lifting the vase high.
Before she could bring it down, the front double doors of the mansion burst open with a deafening crash.
Bright red and blue flashing lights flooded the grand foyer and living room.
Sirens wailed outside, echoing through the night air.
"FBI! FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" a booming voice echoed through the house.
Margaret froze mid-swing.
Sarah's eyes widened in sheer terror as heavy combat boots thundered across the hardwood floors.
Within seconds, three armed federal agents in tactical gear swarmed into the living room.
Laser sights painted red dots across Sarah and Margaret's chests.
"Drop the weapon! Drop it now!" an agent bellowed, leveling his assault rifle at Sarah.
Sarah's hands trembled violently.
She dropped the iron poker with a loud clang.
Margaret slowly raised her hands into the air, falling flat onto her stomach.
"Mr. Caldwell?" the lead agent called out, keeping his weapon trained on the two women.
"Are you alright, sir?"
I pushed Sarah off me, coughing and catching my breath on the rug.
"I'm fine," I panted, wiping blood from my lip.
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"Arrest them both."
"For kidnapping, human trafficking, fraud, and attempted murder."
