“Press down on it,” I told her, my voice low and steady despite the hammering in my chest.

“Keep your hands on the wound, Madison.”

“He shot him, Natalie,” she sobbed, her face pale. “He shot him.”

“Quiet, Madison,” Hayes said, adjusting his grip on the pistol.

His eyes turned to me, cold and analytical.

He was a man assessing a tactical problem on a map, not his own soldiers.

“The logistics manifests are already flagged by the Department of Defense,” I said, trying to keep his attention on me.

“They know about the shipments, Colonel. Killing us won’t stop the audit.”

Hayes allowed himself a small, grim smile.

“An audit requires living witnesses to explain the anomalies, Captain,” he said.

“A tragic murder-suicide within a prominent family handles the inquiry quite well.”

He raised the weapon slightly, aligning the sights with my chest.

“Your father’s accounts will be frozen, the assets seized, and the investigation will die with the suspects.”

The rain slammed against the high window of the office, a relentless, heavy drumming.

A trickle of water leaked through the seal, dripping onto the metal radiator below with a steady hiss.