The explosion was loud. Certainly not louder than anything she had heard before. Not even close. As the slide of her semi-automatic racked back and ejected the first spent shell, and then chambered the next, she pulled the trigger again. The expression on Mason’s face changed. From confusion to surprise. As the second bullet slammed into his chest from point blank range, it changed again. This time to pain.
“Gun!” Someone yelled, as the slide racked another shell into the chamber of Grace’s gun. Though her eyes were only on Mason, she saw Bazir drop behind his podium. She picked up the movement of Mason’s protection detail as they launched into action. And as she pulled the trigger for the third time, she saw the debate moderator dive off of the stage. The first two rounds had hit Mason left of center in the chest, but the third round hit dead center. He began to fall backwards from the blows. The bullet casing ejected, as the next round slid home. She pulled the trigger again. This round caught him in the arm as he fell, and blood exploded from the wound. She felt a dull thud in her side. The next round chambered. She felt another dull thud in her upper arm. She pulled the trigger again. Just as shearing pain ripped through her side, and then her arm, she realized that her last shot had missed completely.
Even as the splinters exploded upward from the wooden floor of the stage, another round slid into the chamber. She fired. As Mason hit the stage floor, he began to roll away. This round caught him in the thigh, and again blood exploded into the air. Piercing pain shot through her chest as a bullet punched straight through. The Secret Services agents were almost on her now, as another round slid into the chamber. She pulled the trigger. Another miss. And she felt another piercing pain as a bullet tore through her thigh. The slide rammed home. She fired. Another miss. Another round chambered. She fired again just as the lead agent slammed into her. They landed hard on the ground, and Grace heard, and felt her ribs break with the impact. The slide of her gun locked back, the magazine empty, and the gun fell from her hand and slid across the floor. In agonizing pain, she turned her head. Mason lay unmoving on the floor just a few feet away. His other Secret Service agent was frantically trying to apply first aid. There was blood every where. In a moment of clarity, as consciousness began to slip away from her, she saw that the suited man on top of the Mason. Frank Lee, the seasoned federal agent...was crying.