Ch.40: The Three-Way Standoff

The lift doors slide open.

The hallway is a battlefield. Marble pillars are chipped by bullets. A crystal vase lies shattered on the floor. The air smells of cordite and the faint, lingering sting of chlorine gas.

Isabella pushes my wheelchair out of the lift. She stays low, using me as mobile cover. The gun is pressed against the back of my neck.

"Move," she hisses.

She steers me toward the panic room.

Aris is there. He’s crouched behind an overturned antique table, firing down the hall at Thorne, who has taken cover in the library doorway.

"Aris!" Isabella screams.

Aris spins around. He sees us.

He sees me in the wheelchair. He sees Isabella behind me, the gun barrel digging into my spine.

"Bella?" he lowers his rifle slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Ending this," Isabella shouts. Her voice is shrill, hysterical. "Put the gun down!"

Aris looks at her. He looks at her ruined face.

"Put it down," she repeats, "or I blow her spinal cord out."

Aris laughs.

It’s a cold, incredulous sound.

"You think I care about her?" he asks. "She's just parts, Bella. Spare parts. I can get another donor."

"You can't get another *face*!" Isabella screams. "Not in time for the Buyer! The deal is tonight, Aris! If she dies, you lose fifty million dollars!"

Aris hesitates.

She’s right. He needs me alive. Not for love, but for leverage. For inventory.

"Okay," he says slowly. "Okay, Bella. Let's calm down."

He sets the rifle on the floor. He raises his hands.

"I'm putting it down. See?"

Isabella’s breath hitches. "Now kick it away."

Aris kicks the rifle. It slides across the marble floor.

"Thorne!" Isabella yells. "Get him!"

Thorne bursts from the library. He is limping, clutching his side, but he moves fast. He tackles Aris.

They hit the floor hard. Aris is younger, stronger, but Thorne is fighting with the desperation of a man who has nothing left to lose. He lands a punch to Aris's jaw. *CRACK.*

Aris grunts. He knees Thorne in the injured ribs. Thorne gasps, doubling over.

Aris scrambles to his feet. He reaches for a knife strapped to his ankle.

But before he can draw it, a shadow moves from the shadows of the panic room antechamber.

It’s Kael. The head of security. The massive man with the shaved head.

He steps into the light. He is holding something.

A tablet.

And... a child.

Leo.

He is small, pale, wearing oversized hospital pajamas. The black collar around his neck looks heavy, too big for his thin frame.

"Boss," Kael rumbles. "We secured the asset."

Aris stops. He looks at Kael. He looks at the boy.

He smiles. A bloody, triumphant smile.

"Excellent timing, Kael."

He turns to Isabella.

"You wanted leverage, Bella? Here it is."

He points to the boy.

"Greta!" he shouts. "I know you're watching! I know you're in the vents!"

A sob echoes from the ceiling vent above us. Greta. She followed us up.

"Come out, Greta!" Aris yells. "Or I press the button!"

The vent cover pops open. Greta drops down. She lands badly, twisting her ankle, but she doesn't care. She crawls toward her son.

"Leo!" she screams.

"Ah-ah," Aris warns. He holds out his hand. Kael passes him the tablet.

Aris taps the screen.

The collar on Leo's neck beeps. A red light flashes faster.

*Beep-beep-beep.*

Greta freezes. She is five feet from her son.

"Don't," she begs. "Please. He's just a boy."

"He's collateral," Aris says coldly. "And you... you are a liability."

He looks at Thorne, who is struggling to stand up. He looks at Isabella, who is still hiding behind my wheelchair, the gun trembling in her hand.

"This ends now," Aris says. "Everyone stands down. Or the boy dies."

Thorne freezes. He drops his hands.

Isabella wavers. She looks at the boy. She looks at Aris.

"Put the gun down, Bella," Aris says softly. "Be a good girl. Be *my* girl. And maybe... maybe I'll still fix your face."

It’s a lie. We all know it’s a lie.

But Isabella is desperate. She lowers the gun.

"Good," Aris says.

He looks at Greta.

"You betrayed me, Greta. After everything I did for you."

"You did nothing!" Greta screams. "You poisoned him! You kept him sick!"

"I kept him alive," Aris corrects her. "As long as he was useful."

He looks at the tablet.

"But now... he's a burden."

He moves his thumb toward the detonation icon.

"NO!" Greta lunges.

"Wait!" Aris laughs. "You really think I'd blow up my own house?"

He turns the tablet around so we can see the screen.

**DETONATOR: OFFLINE.**

**SYSTEM STATUS: DISARMED.**

"I deactivated it hours ago," Aris sneers. "When the gas alarm went off. I couldn't risk a spark igniting the fumes."

He looks at Greta with pure contempt.

"You ran through a gas cloud. You betrayed your patient. You risked everything... for a bluff."

Greta stares at the screen. She stares at the green **DISARMED** light.

The realization hits her. The weight of her failure. The futility of her rebellion.

She looks at Aris.

Then she looks at her son.

She doesn't run to him. She doesn't hug him.

She screams.

It isn't a scream of fear. It is a scream of pure, unadulterated rage. A sound that tears her throat apart.

She grabs a scalpel from the floor—one I must have dropped when Isabella pushed me.

She charges.

Not at Kael. Not at the boy.

At Aris.

"Die!" she shrieks.

Aris doesn't even flinch. He nods to Kael.

Kael raises his gun.

*BANG.*

Greta realizes she betrayed us for nothing. She screams.