Chapter 6 - The Standoff
The hired thugs hesitated, clearly not expecting armed resistance from a supposedly senile old man.
Julian, however, was completely unhinged by desperation.
"He is alone!" Julian screamed at the men.
"Take him out and get me inside that house!"
One of the thugs raised a handgun, but before he could even level it, Clifford fired a warning shot from the roof of the barn.
The heavy rifle round shattered the windshield of the closest syndicate truck.
The men instantly dove behind their vehicles for cover.
"I have six men with high-powered hunting rifles locked onto your positions," I lied loudly, bluffing with the confidence of a seasoned poker player.
"The sheriff is closing in from the main highway."
"If you die here tonight for a con man's gambling debt, nobody is going to pay your widows."
The logic pierced through the tense, violent air.
These men were mercenaries, not martyrs.
They looked at Julian, realizing he had led them into a heavily fortified trap.
"Get in the trucks," the lead thug growled, grabbing Julian by the collar of his expensive jacket.
"Wait, we can take him!" Julian protested frantically, fighting against the thug's grip.
"The deal is off, you stupid bastard," the thug spat, shoving Julian toward the passenger seat.
Before they could start the engines, the flashing red and blue lights of three sheriff's cruisers crested the hill.
The cavalry had finally arrived.
The syndicate men threw their weapons onto the grass and raised their hands in surrender.
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Julian tried to run into the dense woods on foot.
He didn't make it twenty yards before a deputy tackled him hard into the muddy earth.
