“She can’t leave,” my father said. “The security gates are locked.”

“And the telephone lines are dead.”

“You cut the landlines too?” I asked.

“We had to be thorough,” my father said.

He looked at Hayes.

“We are running out of time, Marcus.”

“The transport leaves the harbor in three hours.”

“I know,” Hayes said.

His hand began to slide out of his coat pocket.

The fabric of his heavy coat rustled.

I saw the black grip of a standard-issue military sidearm.

“Drop it, Colonel!” I shouted. “Now!”

The metal of his gun caught the light as it cleared the leather holster.

It was a Sig Sauer.

He did not drop it.

He raised the muzzle, pointing it directly at my face.

My father didn’t move.

Madison let out a sharp, terrified scream.

The hallway door creaked open further.

My mother stood there, her face pale, staring at the raised weapons.

The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the sound of the rain.

“Colonel,” I said, my finger tightening on the trigger.

Hayes slowly took a step forward, his eyes locking onto mine as his finger found his own trigger.