Marcus: Say goodbye, Eleanor. Tell your father I said hello.
Ethan: No! Leave her alone!
Voice from Aisle: Drop the weapon! Hands behind your head now!
Marcus: What?
Two uniformed police officers rushed through the heavy oak doors at the back of the memorial hall, their service weapons drawn and targeted directly at Marcus's chest.
Officer Davis: Drop the gun, Marcus Vance! We have the building surrounded!
Marcus: Who called you? Who brought you here?
Pastor: I pressed the emergency panic button under the podium three minutes ago, Marcus.
Marcus: You pious hypocrite!
Officer Davis: Put it down now! Do not make us open fire in this hall!
Marcus looked around frantically, his hands trembling as he saw half a dozen armed officers filling the side aisles. The gun slowly slipped from his sweaty fingers, clattering loudly against the wooden pews before dropping to the carpet.
Officer Davis: Secure him! Get the paramedics in here immediately!
Ethan: Mom! You're safe now! Look at me, you're safe!
Eleanor: Oh my sweet boy... my brave boy...
Marcus: You won't get a dime, Eleanor! My lawyers will freeze every account! The divorce lawyer will strip you clean!
Officer Davis: Save it for your deposition, Vance. You're going away for attempted murder, kidnapping, and fraud.
As the officers forced Marcus to his knees and slapped heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists, the entire room broke into a wave of quiet, weeping relief.
Leave a Comment