He shifted his weight, his gun arm remaining locked in place.

“She took the ledger from the office. She was going to hand it to the federal prosecutors.”

“She’s twenty-two, Donald,” Richard said, taking a step toward Hayes. “She doesn’t understand the scope of this.”

“She understands enough to put us both in a federal penitentiary for the rest of our lives,” Hayes said.

He slowly rotated his wrist, the barrel of the automatic shifting from my chest toward Madison.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

My military training kicked in, calculating the trajectory.

If he fired at Madison, I would have approximately one point five seconds to bridge the gap before he could chamber a second round or adjust his aim back to me.

But the bullet would still hit her.

“Donald, put the gun down,” Richard said, his voice rising.

“There is no other way out of this, Richard,” Hayes said, his thumb clicking the safety off.

The sound was tiny, but in the quiet of the office, it sounded like a crack of thunder.

“We clean up the mess here, and we leave.”