Mr. Howell: Do you really think you're the only one armed in this house, Victor?
Victor: You're a businessman, David! You don't have the guts to pull a trigger! Now drop your phone and tell me where you hid the master encryption keys for the Panama accounts!
Mr. Howell: I don't need to pull a trigger, Victor. Look behind you.
Before Victor could react, the floor-to-ceiling glass doors surrounding the villa foyer exploded inward in a shower of shattered glass. A dozen tactical federal agents in full body armor surged into the grand hall, their assault rifles aimed directly at Victor and Arthur.
FBI Tactical Leader: FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP THE WEAPON NOW! DROP IT!
Arthur: Oh God! Don't shoot! I’m just the lawyer! Don't shoot me!
Arthur instantly threw his hands into the air, dropping the heavy leather briefcase onto the marble floor where it burst open, scattering thousands of pages of forged legal documents across the tile.
Victor: GET BACK! I’LL KILL HIM! I’LL BLOW THIS ENTIRE PLACE TO HELL!
Victor panicked, spinning around toward the front door, but a tactical officer lunged forward, delivering a heavy rifle butt strike directly across Victor’s jaw. The gun flew out of Victor's hand, clattering harmlessly across the marble floor.
Victor crashed hard onto his face, screaming in pain as two federal agents pinned his arms behind his back, snapping heavy steel handcuffs tightly around his wrists.
FBI Tactical Leader: Suspect in custody! Secure the perimeter!
Director Vance walked through the broken front entrance, stepping over the shattered glass as he looked up at Mr. Howell coming down the grand staircase.
FBI Director: Excellent work holding them in place, David. Are Victoria and your daughter safe?
Mr. Howell: They're upstairs in the master suite. My wife needs immediate medical attention for glass cuts on her shoulder.
FBI Director: Parametric units are right behind us. They'll have her in an ambulance within two minutes.
Victor raised his bruised, bloody face off the floor, glaring up at Mr. Howell with pure, bitter hatred as the agents pulled him up to his feet.
Victor: You got lucky, David! You got lucky you came home early!
Mr. Howell: It wasn't luck, Victor. It was the fact that you underestimated how much a father loves his family. You'll have the next twenty years in a federal penitentiary to think about that.
Arthur: David, please! I was forced into this! Victor threatened my family if I didn't draft those documents!
Mr. Howell: Save it for the judge, Arthur. You’re going to lose your law license, your freedom, and every single asset you thought you were going to steal from me.
The federal agents dragged both men out the front doors into the bright afternoon sun, shoving them into the back of waiting tactical vans while sirens wailed down the quiet luxury street.