The Bomb and My Choice

During the Winter Carnival, my worst enemy kidnapped my husband and my son.

The psychopaths packed two tons of TNT right under their seats, broadcasting the hostage feed directly onto the massive jumbo screen in the Grand Plaza.

Everyone says Captain Pamela is the bedrock of the bomb squad, a hero who has saved countless lives!

"So today, I want to see what our great expert will do. Cut the red wire, and your husband dies. Cut the blue wire, and your son dies. How will you choose, Captain?"

Every citizen in the city knew this was a trap designed to destroy me. No matter which wire I chose, I would be branded a monster forever.

Amidst the terrified screams of the thousands of onlookers in the plaza, I casually posted a comment in the live chat.

"A human firework show should be spectacular. Make sure to record it for me!"

On the giant screen of the Grand Plaza, the faces of my husband, Raymond, and my son, Toby, were magnified to an agonizing degree. The barrels of explosives beneath them were hooked up to two brightly colored wires, one red, one blue.

A woman wearing a grotesque clown mask stared back at the camera, her voice digitally altered to a high-pitched, mocking screech.

The live-stream chat cascaded down like a waterfall.

"Is this real? Is this some insane movie promo? Who pulls a stunt like this on New Year's?"

"Look at their faces! That's not acting! Their mouths are duct-taped, and they've cried themselves dry!"

"I just looked it up! Captain Pamela is the head of the city's bomb squad! Her family has really been taken!"

My father-in-law, Ron, grabbed my arm, his fingernails digging deep into my skin.

"Pamela! You're always so damn capable! Why are you just standing there? Say something!"

I peeled his fingers off my arm and calmly adjusted the cuffs of my jacket.

"Dad, what's the rush? They aren't asking for money, they're only forcing me to choose. It's obviously a setup."

"A setup? What kind of setup is more important than your husband and son's lives? Is your heart made of stone?" His chest heaved violently with rage. "If you make the wrong move, you'll destroy this family! Do you understand?"

My mother-in-law, Beatrice, rushed over, swinging her hand to slap me.

"You cursed woman! It's because of you that our family is being targeted! If anything happens to my son, I will kill you myself!"

I stepped aside, dodging her hand, my eyes cold and empty.

"So, by your logic, I should choose my son, right?"

The moment those words left my mouth, it was like a bucket of ice water dumped over their heads. The elderly couple exchanged a panicked look, neither of them daring to speak.

On the screen, the clown woman's voice rang out again, dripping with sadistic amusement.

"Captain Pamela, it seems your family knows how to choose better than you do!"

"Don't waste time. Come on, tell the whole city, do you love your husband, or do you love your son?"

The chat comments began to turn.

"Holy hell, this kidnapper knows exactly how to tear someone's soul apart."

"Yeah, Captain Pamela is a hero. She's saved so many people, and now she has to decide who dies. That's brutal."

"I believe in Captain Pamela! She'll find a way!"

Seeing the comments, the clown woman seemed to grow irritated. She ripped the duct tape off my husband's mouth. Raymond's hoarse, sobbing voice immediately echoed through the plaza.

"Pamela! Forget about me! Save Toby! He's our only son!"

Tears streamed down his face, his eyes shining with the tragic light of noble fatherly love. The citizens watching the stream were deeply moved.

My father-in-law burst into tears, nearly falling to his knees.

"Pamela, did you hear him? Raymond wants you to save Toby! Tell the kidnapper right now!"

"Tell her what?" I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and blew a slow ring of smoke. "Dad, your son has already made peace with his sacrifice for his boy. We shouldn't let his noble gesture go to waste, should we?"

The clown woman seemed highly entertained by Raymond's heroic performance. She panned the camera down to show a close-up of the detonator. It was a device linked directly to the central control system of the city's holiday fireworks display.

"Captain Pamela, see this? When the midnight bells ring, it will toll the death knell for your family!"

"The countdown is less than twenty minutes."

She paused, letting out a wild, screeching laugh.

"Oh, and I forgot to mention. This detonator works both ways."

"Not only can I blow them up from here, but I've installed a voice-activated receiver in the chandelier of your living room. The moment you say 'I choose' followed by a name, the other person will explode instantly!"

I looked up at the ornate crystal chandelier hanging above me and sighed softly. Then, I turned to my mother-in-law.

"Mom, you heard her. It's not that I don't want to save them, but the kidnapper isn't giving me a real choice. One is my husband, the other is my son. Both are my own flesh and blood. How do you expect me to say those words?"

Beatrice's face flushed red, then went pale. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't find a single word to say.

Before I could say anything else, the front door was kicked open, and a squad of tactical officers swarmed in. Leading them was my deputy, Captain Briggs. His face was grim as he hurried over to me.

"Captain, the situation is critical. We can't locate the kidnapper in time, and we can't disable the link to the city's fireworks system." He glanced at me, lowering his voice. "The brass has issued a strict order. We must guarantee public safety and avoid mass panic, so..."

Before he could finish, Ron lunged forward, shouting.

"Did you hear that? Even your colleagues are telling you to choose! What are you waiting for? Do you want to kill everyone in this city?"

I stubbed out my cigarette and slowly stood up.

"Captain Briggs, officers, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you. I'm not making a choice. The life or death of the hostages should be determined by us, the police, not a criminal!"

The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Everyone stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind. Beatrice's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, caught just in time by a nearby officer.

"Pamela! You heartless monster!" Ron pointed a shaking finger at my nose, his voice cracking with rage. "Those are your own family members! How can you... how can you just stand there and watch them die? Do you have any humanity left?"

Briggs tried to reason with me.

"Captain, we know how hard this is. But under these circumstances, saving one is better than losing both."

"Yes, Captain, no matter who you choose, we will understand. The public will understand."

Faced with their well-meaning advice, I let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Easy for you to say."

"If you were in my shoes, forced to choose between your wife and your child, who would you kill?" My gaze swept across the room, and one by one, they lowered their heads, unable to meet my eyes. "I've been a cop for ten years. I've defused more bombs than you've had hot meals! My duty is to save lives, not to decide who gets to die! And today is no different!"

Ron completely snapped, raising his fist to strike me. But just before his fist could connect with my face, Briggs's radio crackled to life.

"Captain Briggs! We've got a lock on the kidnapper's location!"

Briggs immediately led his men and rushed out the door. I didn't move. I just kept my eyes on the screen.

Seeing that I still hadn't made a move, the clown woman on the screen lost her patience. She pulled out a taser, the crackling blue electric arc buzzing menacingly in the dim background.

"Captain Pamela, it seems you won't make a choice until you see some blood!"

With that, she violently jammed the taser into Raymond's ribs. Raymond let out an agonized, inhuman scream. His body convulsed violently, curling into a tight ball.

The crowd watching the broadcast gasped in horror. In the corner of the screen, Toby was sobbing hysterically, terrified out of his mind.

The clown woman's voice grew twisted and manic behind her mask.

"Captain Pamela, you should have received the remote by now!"

"Oh, wait, I forgot, there is no remote this time!"

"We have fifteen minutes left before the fireworks show. From now on, for every minute you stay silent, your husband gets another shock! Until you open your mouth!"

Watching my husband writhe in agony on the screen, Beatrice, who had just regained consciousness, rushed at me.

"Pamela! Choose! Do you want to watch him get tortured to death?"

I looked down at her calmly and spoke in a soft, even voice.

"Mom, instead of begging me, why don't you make a call and ask him?" I raised my hands, mimicking the shape of a phone. "Ask him if he's actually in that much pain."

Beatrice froze, clearly baffled by my words.

"What... what do you mean? Are you wishing death upon your own husband?"

I smiled.

"My husband studied finance. He can barely lift a suitcase. But look at that man on the screen. He's been tasered for so long, yet his screams are still incredibly loud and full of energy. Don't you find that strange?"

"Besides, he doesn't seem to have that mole on the back of his neck that we all know so well."

My words struck the room like a thunderbolt. Even Beatrice stopped her hysterical crying, her eyes locking onto the screen. Several young officers began to sweat, and Ron stood frozen, unable to move a muscle.

Seeing this, an officer remaining in the room snatched my tablet, trying to zoom in on the video.

"Captain Pamela, lives are on the line here! How can you play games like this?"

I watched my husband still screaming in agony on the screen, the corners of my mouth curving upward.

"Playing games?"

"Either way, one of them has to die. Why should I care which one it is?"

The officer was left speechless, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Captain Pamela, those are your family members! Aren't you worried at all?"

I flashed him a bright, cold smile.

"Why should I be?"

"If my husband dies, I get to inherit half the estate. If my kid is gone, I can always have another. But if I actually say the words, I become an accomplice to murder."

The technical department's call came through, Briggs's voice frantic.

"Pamela! The hospital network was rigged! The signal source is a spoof! We can't find them!"

The last shred of hope vanished.

Seeing that I was completely unfazed, the clown woman on the screen flew into a homicidal rage. She tossed the taser aside and dragged a metal bucket from behind her, pouring a thick, yellow liquid all over my husband.

The overwhelming stench of gasoline seemed to drift right through the screen, filling the living room.

"Pamela! I'm giving you one last minute! If you don't choose, I'll turn him into a human torch!"

The clown woman produced a lighter, the pale blue flame dancing before the camera lens.

The live stream's viewer count hit an unprecedented peak. The comments surged so fast the feed began to lag.

"She's insane! The kidnapper has completely lost it!"

"What is the Captain waiting for? He's going to burn!"

"You don't get it, she can't choose! Choosing makes her a killer! This is a nightmare!"

The clown woman roared at the camera.

"Pamela, I'm counting to three! If you don't open your mouth, get ready to collect his ashes!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

I took a deep breath, and under the horrified gazes of everyone in the room, I dialed a number. The call was answered instantly. My voice, broadcasted through the speaker, echoed clearly through the room and the city's live stream.

"Captain Pamela, speak your choice! Let everyone see who you love most!" On the other end, the clown woman's voice was filled with a sick, ecstatic thrill.

"No, no, I think you've misunderstood," I let out a soft laugh, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I called to tell you one thing."

"Those two people you kidnapped have nothing to do with me. Burn them, blow them up, do whatever the hell you want."

The clown woman froze, entirely caught off guard by my answer.

A second later, she let out a piercing, screeching howl, flicked the lighter, and threw it onto my husband. A massive, deafening explosion erupted as the screen was engulfed in a wall of fire.

The entire room fell into a dead, horrified silence.

"No!" Beatrice let out a blood-curdling shriek and fainted once more.

"Pamela! You murderer! You killed my son! I'll kill you!" Ron grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the coffee table, his face contorted in a demonic rage as he lunged at me.

The scene descended into utter chaos. But I, the catalyst of it all, simply sat back down on the sofa, completely unbothered.

"Dad, what's done is done. My condolences."

I stood up, dusted off my coat, and looked at the hysterical room.

"Alright, stop shouting. You guys can keep playing your games. I'm going to take my son out for some pancakes."