Chapter 24 - The Collision of Fates
My shoulder hit Arthur square in the chest, sending both of us crashing hard onto the unforgiving concrete floor. The impact knocked the wind out of my lungs, a sharp spike of pain radiating through my collarbone, but I kept my grip locked around his wrists, pinning his arms to the ground before he could retrieve whatever was hidden inside his coat pocket.
"Dad, get off him!" Emily screamed, sprinting toward us with the heavy flashlight raised like a club. "He’s got a taser! Watch his right hand!"
It was too late. With a desperate, animalistic grunt, Arthur twisted his body with surprising strength, wrenching his right arm free from my grasp. A harsh, electric crack filled the air, accompanied by a blinding blue arc of high-voltage current. The barbed prongs of the tactical taser didn't hit me squarely, but the stray current brushed against my left shoulder, sending a paralyzing wave of agony through my nervous system. My muscles locked instantly, and I collapsed sideways onto the floor, gasping for air as black spots danced across my vision.
Arthur scrambled backward on his hands and knees, coughing violently, his designer coat torn at the shoulder. He looked down at me with a mixture of contempt and panic, then his eyes darted toward the heavy metal flash drive that had slipped from his hand and rolled across the polished concrete toward the kitchenette counter.
"You old fool," Arthur wheezed, scrambling to his feet with unsteady legs. He didn't go for the flash drive. Instead, he lunged toward Emily, who was kneeling beside me, trying to check my pulse and keep her flashlight trained on him simultaneously. "You should have stayed out of it, Thomas. Now you get to watch her lose everything she built."
Emily moved with blinding speed. Abandoning the flashlight, she whipped a heavy steel drafting square from the nearest work table and brought it down in a sharp, defensive arc. The metal edge caught Arthur across the forearm with a sickening *thwack*, forcing a sharp cry of pain from his lips. He stumbled backward, clutching his bruised arm, his face twisted into an ugly mask of rage.
"You hit me," Arthur whispered, staring at his bruised wrist in sheer disbelief, as if the concept of physical retaliation from his victim was a violation of the laws of nature. "You actually struck me."
"I broke your grip once, Arthur," Emily stood over me, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with an intense, unyielding fire. "And I will break you completely if you take one more step toward my father."
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The heavy front door suddenly rattled violently. Not from the inside, but from the exterior alleyway. Heavy, synchronized boots pounded against the concrete steps outside, followed by a gruff, amplified voice echoing through the open doorway: *"Federal Marshals! Nobody move! Drop your weapons immediately!"*
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