"Let GO!" I hiss, a panicky sensation starting in my gut. I do the only thing I can think to do, shoving my gun into the top of my pants and whipping out my knife, first slashing the tendons on the man's arm, then reversing it and slamming it into his chest, at least roughly where his heart should be. It's a mess, but I can clean up a mess - I can't clean up whatever the maid might come back with if she finds me here and escapes back upstairs.<br/><br/>I yank my arm away, assuming I'll be able to free myself now - I need to get to the doorway, surprise her when she comes in. I don't want to have to chase her down. My free hand tugs the knife free - guns will make more noise than even the screaming man did. I don't want to use it if I can help it.