Chapter 8
The brilliant strobe of red and blue police lights washed over the interior of the restaurant, casting long, frantic shadows across the white tablecloths and the terrified faces of the diners. The lead man in the dark suit froze, his gloved hand still gripping the handle of the black suitcase. For a fraction of a second, calculation flickered in his cold eyes as he weighed the risk of a shootout against the certainty of federal custody.
"Drop your weapon! Police! Do not move!" a bullhorn blared from outside the shattered-glass front windows, though the doors hadn't actually been breached yet.
"You called them," the suit hissed, turning his piercing gaze onto Lisa with a predatory intensity that made her blood run cold.
"Detective Vance is outside," Lisa lied smoothly, keeping her voice from shaking as she raised her phone high enough for him to see the active screen. "And he knows exactly who you work for. The building is surrounded."
The second man near the door glanced nervously toward the entrance, his hand shifting deeper inside his jacket. "Boss, we got thirty seconds before the tactical unit kicks the door in. We can't carry the bag out through the front."
The lead man made a split-second decision. Instead of grabbing the suitcase, he lunged across the table and grabbed Ramon by the collar of his blue polo shirt, yanking the whimpering man halfway across the mahogany wood.
"If we go down, your husband takes the first bullet," the man growled, pressing a heavy steel pistol firmly against Ramon’s temple. "Tell the cops to back off or he leaves in a body bag."
Ramon let out a high-pitched, pathetic whimper, his legs buckling beneath him as he dangled helplessly from the man's grip. "Lisa! Help me! Do something!"
Elena didn't flinch. She bent down, grabbed the black suitcase by its handle, and stepped back toward the kitchen swinging doors behind the dining area. "The back exit leads to the alley," she said coolly, looking directly at the suit holding Ramon. "We move now or we lose everything."
Lisa’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She had wanted justice, she had wanted him to pay for his betrayal, but seeing the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the father of her child paralyzed her rage.
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"Let him go," Lisa said, taking a cautious step forward while keeping her hand steady on her phone. "Take the suitcase. Take whatever you want. Just let him go."
"Shut up!" the gunman snarled, tightening his grip on Ramon's collar as heavy boots slammed against the front vestibule floorboards. The front door burst open in a cloud of splintered wood and tactical gear.
