Just an addition to the excellent answers by Mark Baker and Lauren Ipsum:
I am sure you can make that interruption work, if you write in a style where it fits. But if you write for an audience (and not just to pass the time and please yourself) it may be not the worst idea to at least sometimes think of how a potential reader could experience your narrative. Unlike you, they do not know the story when they read it. For you, the interruption is no interruption. Because you know how the action will continue. Because you do not perceive your narrative sequentially, but as a unified idea. It is all in your mind at the same time.
For the reader on the other hand, the interruption is a potential break of trust. Reading is a contract between author and reader. The reader allows you to manipulate their emotions and trusts you to play by the rules that the cover, blurb, and first pages of your book have set. The reader has entered your world, identified with your protagonist, and is imprisoned with your characters in the chronology of the story. The moment of crisis, if well written, is a moment of crisis for the reader, too. If you interrupt the flow of such a suspensful and highly emotional moment, some readers will feel as if an important promise has been broken.
Now, of course, as Lauren and Mark have said, it is quite possible to interrupt the action in an enjoyable and satisfying way. I only want to warn you to (a) observe yourself closely so that you will notice when you stop writing to the reader's perspective – which is not the reader's taste! –, and (b) to believe your test readers. If there is a significant number of test readers who are uncomfortable with something in your text, it is highly likely that a similar percentage of your target audience will also feel uncomfortable about it.
Sure, not every book is for everyone (which is why your beta readers must come from your target audience, not from your group of alpha-reading fellow writers), but the choice to limit the appeal of your book must be a conscious one, not an accident that you later regret.