The Storm of Elements

Hostage Exchange

Confusion and ecstasy fight to take over my brain. Sara Falcon, here? She came all this way to personally rescue us? If she's here, then how are the rest of the people at the ranch, like Crystal and Rosalynn and John? Was there an attack or not? 

But I can feel my muscles feel less tense, breaking through the paralysis as I relax. Falcon's going to get us out. 

My message got through. 

Alex bursts out laughing, and all the guards look at him. His grin is unmistakable. "Oh, y'all are screwed." 

Falcon doesn't hesitate while the guards are still confused and shoots the guard holding him up. The bullet embeds itself square in the chest. He crumples, and Alex is released to his knees. 

She turns her gun on Goodwin, whose hands immediately fly above his head in surrender. The intense, commanding electricity in her blue eyes is visible as their eyes meet. 

"I'll say it again," she says coolly. "Release your prisoners before more unnecessary blood is shed." 

Goodwin seems too shocked to speak (for once), and stands there gaping at her with his mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

I summon all my strength to my leg and do my best to forcefully kick his shin. He doesn't flinch or even yell at me, which is surprising. He just looks down at me. 

"I'd listen to her if I were you," I warn him. "Trust me. Don't be a Shellhead like usual and try to be all tough and masculine and not listen to good advice like you do best." 

"We're not just saying this because we're your prisoners!" Myria says quickly, her voice higher-pitched than normal from fear. 

"If you value your life, like you always appear to do," Lenae says, her voice calm but stern, "I'd let us go. Because you can bet she brought backup. Backup who won't hesitate to shoot you once you try to escape with us." 

As if on cue, a squad of nearly twenty guards in the Shadow standard uniform come running out of nowhere and stand behind Falcon, their guns all pointing at the other guards. 

You know in some of those old Western cowboy movies when two people would stand in the middle of the road, just staring at each other from a few feet away, their hands on their guns in their holster, but neither shooting until the other shot first? A Mexican standoff, I believe. 

We've got our own mini, more intense Mexican standoff happening in this elevator. 

I don't want to be here to see who shoots first. 

Tension builds as the two adversaries stand facing each other, their guns pointed, waiting for the signal to shoot. I hold my breath, my chest getting tight. Lenae and I exchange worried looks. 

"Well," Goodwin says after what feels like forever. His eyes are filled with cold fury. "You realize you are making a very big mistake, Sara. This will not go unaddressed later, and you will pay." 

Falcon shrugs indifferently, but there's something tight about her shoulders when she does. "I expected nothing less, Dylan. Now make your guards drop their guns or mine won't hesitate to shoot." 

Goodwin's mouth is in a tight line as he beckons for his guards to obey. They practically throw them to the ground like they're burning their hands and quickly put their hands in the air. I don't blame them. I would do the same thing if Falcon was eyeing me the same way she is eyeing them. 

Goodwin just rolls his eyes, muttering, "Some squad." 

Good news is, we're released from the guards' grasps. The bad news is, we're still kind of paralyzed, so we land hard on the metal floor of the elevator.