Her hand trembled a bit as she gauntleted the glock with her other palm, relying on the repetitive, almost mechanistic training she'd been through at the academy to escape what could potentially be a devastating panic-driven decision.
It helped that Richard Castle was the one being held in front of her. Helped because he was such a jackass, decimating the image she'd built up of her favorite author with every insensitive comment that dropped from his lips.
It was just the second time she'd had to draw her gun when facing a suspect, and the first time she had ever stared down the barrel of a gun pointed at her face — but there was no way Castle was going to find that out, no sir.
She took a deep breath, schooled her features one more time, and yelled as loudly as she could "Let him go, Harrison!"