Dr. Barry laughed maniacally. “You want answers? You want the truth?”

“Spare me the next line, grandpa,” Kyle shot back. “And get to the point.”

“These aren’t real terrorists. They’re paid actors, albeit greedy, soulless actors, but actors nevertheless. The entire hostage situation is a red herring. Bet you weren’t expecting that you little twit.”

“Then why are you wounded, Captain Crimson?”

“They have to find evidence of my ‘death,’ silly boy. Otherwise, somebody might come looking for me. And I clearly don’t want to be found.”

“What exactly are you up to?” Maria asked, sheepishly.

“Let’s just say the church is about to suffer some economic setbacks, Susie-Q.”

Tim and Nick burst into the room, guns in hand. One aimed at Kyle, one at Maria. What they had was a Mexican standoff.

Numbers back in his favor, Dr. Barry looked rather smug. That was until Tim started talking.

“We have a problem, sir. One of the hostages contacted 911. I’d say we have about five minutes to get the hell out of dodge.”