Chapter 9 - The Last Stand
"You ruined us," Vanessa shrieked from behind her father, her voice cracked and hysterical. "You took my money! You took my wedding! You took my entire life!"
Naomi stood in the center of the living room, her posture entirely relaxed, her dark eyes scanning the revolver in Richard’s hand.
Model 686. Smith & Wesson. Six-shot capacity. His finger is resting dangerously hard on the trigger. He’s nervous, uncoordinated, and desperate.
"Put the gun down, Richard," Naomi said smoothly, her voice completely devoid of panic. "The FBI already has your files. Killing me won't stop your trial."
"I don't care about the trial!" Richard screamed, his voice cracking. "I'm fifty-eight years old! I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a federal prison because of a fucking maid! If I'm going down, I'm taking everything Ethan Whitmore loves with me!"
Vanessa stepped forward, pouring gasoline across the wooden floorboards near the entry way. "Burn it all down! Burn her!"
"Vanessa, stop," Naomi commanded, her voice cutting through the room like an iron bar. "Look at your father. He’s about to commit murder. You are about to become an accomplice to arson and homicide. You still have a chance to walk away."
"I have nothing!" Vanessa screamed, splashing the remaining fuel onto the rug. "I am Vanessa Sterling! I was supposed to have everything!"
Richard stepped closer, raising the revolver until the barrel was less than four feet from Naomi’s head. "Say goodbye, girl."
Naomi didn't back up. She took a half-step forward.
"Margaret Hale taught me three rules for dealing with an armed opponent," Naomi said softly, her dark eyes locking onto Richard’s trembling pupils.
Richard blinked, confused. "What?"
"Rule one," Naomi whispered. "Close the distance."
In a fraction of a second, before Richard’s brain could process her words, Naomi slammed her left palm into the side of the revolver, pushing the barrel away from her chest as a deafening BANG echoed through the room, the bullet shattering a glass vase on the counter.
"Rule two," Naomi continued, grabbing Richard’s wrist and driving her fingers into his nerve pressure point.
Richard cried out in agony as his fingers instinctively opened, dropping the heavy revolver onto the rug. Naomi caught the falling weapon in mid-air with her right hand.
"And rule three," Naomi said, stepping around him and driving her elbow straight into Richard’s solar plexus.
Richard collapsed onto his knees, gasping violently for air, completely paralyzed by the pain.
Vanessa let out a horrific shriek, dropping her lighter onto the gasoline-soaked rug.
A wall of yellow flame instantly burst into life, cutting off the front door and spreading rapidly across the living room carpet.
"Ethan!" Vanessa screamed in terror as the smoke filled her lungs, realizing her own madness had trapped her inside the burning apartment. "Help me!"
Naomi didn't hesitate. She didn't let Vanessa burn.
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She grabbed Vanessa by the collar of her jacket, dragging her through the smoke toward the glass balcony doors. With one powerful kick, Naomi shattered the reinforced glass panel, clearing a path out into the rain-soaked terrace.
She threw Vanessa out onto the terrace into the cool, fresh air, then turned back into the burning living room to drag the semi-conscious Richard Sterling out to safety just as the building's overhead fire sprinklers activated, drenching the flames in a heavy cascade of water.
