The impact sent them both sprawling across the icy ground, Isla's weapon flying from her grip, her body hitting the frozen earth with a force that drove the air from her lungs.She scrambled, instincts taking over, her training screaming at her to create distance, to regain control, to neutralize the threat that was now grappling with her in the snow.
Ethan was heavier than she'd expected, his weight pinning her even as blood soaked through his jacket and dripped onto the ground beside her head.His hands found her wrists, trying to pin them, but his grip was weakened—the wound she'd inflicted stealing the strength from his left side.
Isla twisted, bringing her knee up hard.The blow connected with his midsection, and Ethan grunted, his hold loosening just enough for her to roll free.She came up onto her knees, her eyes scanning the snow for her weapon, her lungs burning with cold air and exertion.
The gun lay six feet away, black metal against white snow.
Ethan was already moving, pushing himself up from the ground with his good arm, blood leaving a trail behind him that steamed faintly in the frozen air.His face was pale, shock beginning to set in, but his eyes still held that terrible purpose.
"Just let it happen," he gasped."I wasn't going to hurt you.I was never going to hurt you.I just need—"
Isla dove for the gun.
Her fingers closed around the grip just as Ethan lunged for her again, but this time she was ready.She rolled, bringing the weapon up, and swept his legs with a kick that sent him crashing to the ice-covered ground.Before he could recover, she was on top of him, her knee driving into his back, her weapon pressed against the base of his skull.
"Don't move."The words came out ragged, her breathing labored from the cold and the exertion."It's over, Ethan.Stop fighting."
He laughed.Actually laughed, a sound that bubbled up from somewhere deep and wounded and cracked around the edges.
"It was over the moment you pulled the trigger."His voice was weaker now, the blood loss beginning to take its toll."Thank you for that."
"What—"
"I wasn't going to make it out of here tonight.Not in handcuffs, not in a patrol car, not to a courtroom where they'd turn my father's legacy into a sideshow."He coughed, and Isla saw blood fleck his lips."But I wasn't going to hurt you either.You're not a thief.You didn't steal anything from him.You're just...trying to do your job."
Understanding hit her like a second gunshot.
He hadn't been trying to kill her.He'd been trying to make her kill him.
Suicide by cop.The oldest trick in a desperate man's playbook, and she'd walked right into it.
Isla eased off his back, keeping her weapon trained on him as she assessed the damage.The wound was worse than she'd initially thought—the bullet had caught him in the shoulder, but the cold was accelerating the blood loss, his body unable to maintain the pressure needed to slow the bleeding.His skin had gone gray-white, his breathing shallow and rapid, his eyes beginning to take on the glassy quality that spoke of approaching shock.
"Stay still," she said, holstering her weapon and pulling off her gloves."I need to put pressure on this—"
"Don't."His hand came up, surprisingly strong, catching her wrist before she could reach the wound."Please.Just...let me finish."
"Finish what?You're bleeding out, Ethan.If I don't stop this—"
"Then I die here.At Enger Tower.Where my father created his greatest work."His eyes found hers, and in them she saw something that made her chest tight—not madness, not malice, but a kind of exhausted peace."That's what I wanted.That's all I wanted."
"I'm not going to let you die."
"You don't have a choice."He coughed again, more blood this time, his body shuddering against the frozen ground."Your backup is—what, ten minutes away?Fifteen?By the time they get here, by the time anyone can do anything..."He smiled, a thin expression that cracked his bloodless lips."I did the math, Agent Rivers.I've been doing the math for a long time."
Isla looked at him—really looked—and saw the truth of what he was saying.The wound, the cold, the time until help arrived.The equations didn't balance.Even if she got pressure on the injury now, even if she sacrificed her own warmth to try to keep him alive, the blood loss combined with the hypothermia would claim him before the ambulance could reach the tower.
He was dying.Had been dying since she pulled the trigger.Had wanted to die since he drove up this hill.
"I have one request," Ethan said, his voice barely audible above the wind."Please."
Isla should have said no.Should have focused entirely on the futile attempt to save him, on maintaining the professional distance that the situation demanded.But something in his voice—something human beneath all the horror—made her pause.
"What?"
"Let me look through the viewfinder."His eyes drifted toward the observation deck, toward the camera that still stood waiting on its tripod."Let me see if the composition is right.If the shot my father never got to take...if it's perfect."
"You want me to help you up there so you can look at your camera?"