Gray slowly rose off the ground, relying heavily on the guardrail to keep her steady. Just a few more seconds, and she’d topple over. He was sure of it. Incredibly, she managed to stand completely upright, her pistol still pointed straight down at the ground next to her. Rudd removed all the slack on his pistol trigger and shifted his aim slightly off-center to the left, hoping to wing her if she tried to shoot him. The small movement drew her attention.

They locked eyes for a moment, a grin spreading across her face, before her pistol hand moved. Despite his readiness, they fired at roughly the same time. Gray instantly crumpled in place. He must have jerked the trigger and unintentionally put his bullet straight through her head. Rudd had no idea what happened to her bullet. He hadn’t heard it strike or ricochet off anything near him.

Logan Walsh dashed around the front of the pickup truck, headed toward him. He stopped next to Gray’s sedan, his attention focused on the evenly spaced pattern of bullet holes.

“Check on Wilson!” said Rudd. “Then get Dave loaded up in the van. We’ll take care of Gray.”

“Got it,” said Walsh before signaling his team.

Leo Ward stepped into the open, next to the van, holding a flashlight. “Can’t believe she just blew her brains out.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Rudd.

Ward gave him a puzzled look. “She shot herself.”

“Nice try. I shot her.”

“I saw her put the gun to her head and pull the trigger. Happened in a flash,” said Ward. “I don’t think you hit her.”

“I’m pretty sure I hit her,” said Rudd, holstering his pistol before picking himself up off the pavement.

Ward shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

They jogged over to the guardrail, where Gray lay facedown on the parking lot asphalt, a pool of blood rapidly expanding under her head. Ward’s flashlight revealed a small hole in her right temple, surrounded by powder burns. He didn’t see any other bullet wounds or blood. She’d killed herself, which actually worsened the situation. Gray had chosen to take her own life instead of submitting to an interrogation. She’d very intentionally chosen to deprive CONTROL of the information she possessed.

He glanced over his shoulder at Gray’s car. Walsh had already popped the trunk, examining its contents with a flashlight. He glanced at Rudd and shook his head.

“Wilson’s gone,” said Walsh. “Took two to the top of the head.”

“This is a mess,” said Ward.

“Not entirely,” said Rudd.

The original plan remained intact, despite her desperate, last-minute antics. Rudd had failed to accomplish the primary objective: capture Helen Gray alive. But he’d succeeded at the secondary objective: recover Donald Wilson. CONTROL hadn’t specified dead or alive, which meant it didn’t matter. One out of two had to count for something.