Chapter 4 - Gunfire in the Garden
I kicked the office door open and sprinted down the hallway toward the back patio.
The screams of my neighbors echoed through the suburban air as they scrambled for safety.
I burst through the sliding glass doors just in time to see one of the masked men grabbing Arthur by the collar.
"Let him go!" I screamed, raising the weapon and aiming it squarely at the man's chest.
The attacker froze, clearly surprised that a suburban woman in a sundress was holding a Glock.
Arthur looked at me, his eyes wide with absolute horror.
"Clara, run!" my father pleaded, struggling against the massive man holding him captive.
Instead of running, I fired a warning shot directly into the wooden deck, missing the attacker's foot by less than an inch.
The deafening crack of the gunshot made all three men hesitate for a crucial fraction of a second.
Suddenly, Elena ran out onto the patio holding a heavy iron fire poker she had grabbed from the living room.
She swung it with unbelievable force, striking the man holding Arthur right in the side of his knee.
He roared in pain and dropped Arthur to the ground.
"Get in the house!" Elena screamed, grabbing Arthur by his shirt and hauling him backward.
The other two men raised their weapons, but the blaring sound of approaching police sirens suddenly pierced the air.
Someone in the neighborhood had already called 911 when the gate was kicked in.
The attackers looked at each other, realizing their silent assassination mission had turned into a loud, messy shootout.
They cursed in a foreign language and sprinted back through the broken gate, fleeing toward a black SUV parked down the street.
I kept my gun raised until their tires screeched and the vehicle disappeared around the corner.
My knees finally gave out, and I collapsed onto the wooden deck, gasping for air.
Arthur crawled over to me, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders.
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Then, he looked up and saw Elena standing there, the iron poker still gripped tightly in her bleeding hands.
His face went completely pale as he stared at the exact replica of his deceased wife.
