Madison let out a soft, choked sob from the corner.

“Natalie, please,” she whispered.

“Stay quiet, Maddy,” I said, not breaking eye contact with Hayes.

I evaluated the distance between us.

Four feet of open space.

A heavy wooden desk obstructed a direct tackle.

If I lunged, he would fire before I cleared the corner of the desk.

I needed to create an obstacle or a distraction.

My hand slowly drifted down toward the heavy brass paperweight on the corner of the desk shelf.

“You’re a decorated officer, Hayes,” I said, trying to appeal to his ego.

“You really want to end your career in a basement utility room in upstate New York?”

“My career ended the moment you started digging into the container manifests at Fort Drum,” he said.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

“You couldn’t just let the excess inventory slide.”

The door behind us clicked.

The brass handle turned slowly.

Hayes didn’t look back immediately, keeping his weapon trained on me.

“Richard?” Hayes called out, his voice sharp. “Get in here and lock the door behind you.”

My father stepped into the room.