Rays flicker through the smoke from the lightening as it crackles outside. Again and again light illuminates the smoke-filled room as their eyes continue to lock in an unexpected stalemate. Her with both hands on her gun pointed firmly at his forehead. And him, with one hand on a shard of glass wrapped in a part of his shirt sleeve and the other firmly gripping a grenade with his index finger ready to yank the pin. He knows that the grenade will make her second guess popping him in the head. Even if she could get a clean shot, it would only take a fraction of a second for him to take her with him. Should she lose focus for a even a second, the glass will make her pay for it. His classic “sword and shield” strategy has never failed him. She tries to hide her surprise with an even colder stare and a tighter grip aimed at his temple. She contemplates taking a chance against his reaction time and giving him one to the head. Either that or shoot his hand off and run for it. She decides to stick with her plan and keep him talking until she can figure something out and pray that he makes a mistake. With the smoke still heavy around them, every flash of light highlighting the intensity in their eyes. Eagerly waiting for the other to be distracted only for a second, just long enough to make their move. They circle each other, only a meter apart, him trying to get closer and her the opposite. Both being careful not to move too fast and trigger a reaction. “Where is our son?” he asks coldly. “Safe for the time being” she responds, knowing that her knowledge is the only thing keeping him from rushing in and forcing her hand, “they are using him as leverage against me and if you take me out, they’ll have no more use for him.” His forehead wrinkles in frustration as he can tell it’s not a bluff, “Let’s say that I believe you, why tell me now, other than to save your own life?” Without hesitation, “To save his.” His face shows nothing but complete focus on her. A drop of sweat trickles down into his eye, he doesn’t blink, ignoring the salty sting, “You think we’re gonna work together to save him?” “If you love him as much as I do, you’ll do whatever it takes.” He grits his teeth as he realizes his situation. He couldn’t take a chance on calling her bluff, single-handedly dooming their son. He eases his grip on the glass and slowly backs away, still ready to flick it into her throat should he second-guess himself or her words. Her trigger finger eases only slightly knowing what he would do if he felt anything was out of place. “Whats the plan?” he asks as he sulks backwards into a shadowy safe spot where she can’t tell “exactly” where he is. “I was supposed to deliver you for him” she smirked, “and we can both see how well that’s going.” He lets a slight smile sneak out but doesn’t let it show in his voice, “True, but the only people who know what happened here are you and me.” She keeps her gun aimed squarely at where she guesses he is, “Clearly you’ve already got a plan and I want to hear it.” He throws a rock against a barrel around his old position to watch her squirm. She instinctively aims in the rock’s direction and fires. Before the empty casing even hit the ground she realized her mistake and prepared for his wrath. But before she could even frown, he was behind her. With a quick twist of her wrist, she was disarmed and restrained. She felt a wet cloth slide past her hand and then slap over her nose and mouth. She tried to hold her breath but he gave her a quick blow to the gut, causing her to suck in a deep chloroformy breath. A devilish smile creeps across his face as he whispers in her ear, “We’ll talk when you wake up.” Her vision gets blurry as she loses consciousness, “If you wake up…”