My heart stopped.

I squeezed the iron crowbar in my hands.

The gunman turned his head toward the crates.

His face was covered by a black mask, but I could see his cold eyes.

He began to walk toward me.

Vincent stepped out from behind the steel container.

“Look at me, you coward,” Vincent said.

The gunman stopped and turned toward Vincent.

“I am right here,” Vincent said.

He raised his gun.

But before he could pull the trigger, a bright red laser dot appeared on his chest.

It came from the roof of the estate’s boathouse.

A sniper was watching him.

“Drop the weapon, Moretti,” the gunman said.

“Or you die right now.”

Vincent did not lower his gun.

The red dot stayed steady on his heart.

The silence stretched between them.

I knew Vincent would not back down.

But if he fired, the sniper would kill him instantly.

I had to do something.

I looked at the heavy iron crowbar.

Then, I saw a large metal fuel drum sitting next to the crates.

It was marked with a red warning label.