Chapter 7 - THE FALL
"Drop the weapon, Arthur!" Detective Miller shouted over the howling wind.
Arthur scrambled to steady himself against the railing. He looked from Elena, to the detective, to me. He was completely surrounded.
"It's over," Elena said softly. "The Coast Guard is already boarding the lower decks. There's nowhere to run."
For a second, I thought Arthur was going to surrender. He lowered the gun slightly, his shoulders slumping.
Then, his eyes locked onto Victoria.
"If I'm going down," Arthur snarled, "I'm taking the traitor with me."
He lunged toward Victoria, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and hauling her up against the metal railing. He pressed the gun to her temple.
"Arthur, no!" I yelled, stepping forward.
"Back off!" he screamed, his eyes wild and desperate. "Drop the gun, Miller, or I blow her head off!"
Victoria was sobbing, her hands desperately clawing at Arthur's arm. "Please... please..."
"You ruined everything," Arthur hissed in her ear. "You couldn't just keep your mouth shut."
Elena took a slow, deliberate step forward.
"Let her go, Arthur. She’s not the one you want. I am."
Arthur laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You think I care who I kill at this point? I have nothing left!"
"You have a choice," I said, trying to keep my voice steady for the boys, who were clinging to my legs. "You can walk away from this in handcuffs. Or you can die on this boat."
Arthur looked down at the dark, churning water below the railing.
He smiled.
"I always hated you, Alejandro," he whispered.
He tightened his grip on Victoria and leaned backward, preparing to pull her over the edge with him.
But Victoria wasn't the weak, frightened woman she had been for the last four years.
She had reached her breaking point.
With a sudden, violent twist, Victoria slammed her elbow backward directly into Arthur's broken nose.
He roared in pain, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second.
It was all the time she needed. She dropped to the deck, rolling away from him.
Arthur staggered backward, off balance, his arms flailing as the ferry hit another violent swell.
He hit the railing hard. The rusted metal groaned under his weight.
For one agonizing second, he teetered on the edge, his eyes locking with mine.
Then, he fell.
He didn't scream. He simply vanished over the side, swallowed by the freezing black water of the bay.
Silence fell over the deck, save for the roaring of the wind and the engines.
Detective Miller ran to the railing, shining a heavy flashlight down into the water.
"Nothing," Miller said into his radio. "Suspect is overboard. Get the search boats out."
I didn't care about Arthur.
I turned around.
Elena was standing ten feet away, her hands trembling, tears streaming down her scarred face.
She dropped the envelope on the deck.
May you like
I let go of the boys.
We ran to each other.
