When Eddie Routh unexpectedly drew his revolver and fired a fatal shot at Chad Littlefield, everything happened in the blink of an eye. There were other people in the lounge, but none of them had time to react.
Only two people registered what was happening—Matthew and Chris Kyle.
Matthew had once survived a brutal ambush by drug dealers, an attack that could have killed him but instead sent his assailants straight to hell. This experience had sharpened his reflexes, and he instantly knew how to respond to another shooting.
Chris Kyle, with his combat-hardened nerves from Iraq, reacted differently. The loss of his friend hit him deeply, triggering a fierce reaction.
While Chris instinctively sprang up to leap across the table at Eddie Routh, Matthew tipped his chair backward and threw himself to the ground. At such a close range, even one bullet could spell disaster.
Realizing the futility of trying to subdue a gunman from across the table, Matthew admired Chris's bravery, but he felt no shame in prioritizing his own safety. Survival came first.
As Chris launched himself forward, Chad's lifeless body slumped to the floor, and Eddie's gun barrel began turning in their direction.
Who would he shoot next? Matthew or Chris?
Matthew couldn't tell, and he wasn't taking any chances. As he fell back, he grabbed a ceramic cup from the table and hurled it with the strength honed from years of exercise.
Compared to Chris's attempt to tackle Eddie from across the table and Eddie's slower movement to turn the gun, Matthew's action required a smaller movement and therefore came faster.
His only aim was to disrupt Eddie's shot, if only to buy enough time to save a life.
Chris Kyle, a sniper by training, was not particularly skilled at close combat, especially after gaining weight in retirement. He was slower than Matthew and had barely left his chair when Eddie's gun swung toward him.
In that instant, Chris caught a glimpse of the fury and madness flickering across Eddie's face.
"Is this it?" flashed through Chris's mind. "Not dying at the hands of an enemy, but being killed by a comrade I tried to help?"
Just as Eddie was about to pull the trigger, a white ceramic cup hurtled through the air, smashing into his pale face. The impact threw his arm off balance, shifting the gun's aim.
Bang!
The gun went off, and Chris felt a sharp burn in his ear, followed by a stinging pain.
Matthew, still on the ground, realized he hadn't been hit. He'd dodged that deadly bullet.
But Eddie Routh still held the gun.
Knowing he couldn't outrun a bullet, Matthew rolled under the large, sturdy table, planning to launch a counterattack from below.
With a thud, Matthew hit the ground just before Chad's body, then kicked out at Eddie's vulnerable areas from under the table.
He had no idea what was happening with Chris Kyle or where the club's security personnel were. Even though they would respond to gunfire, it would take time.
Everyone in the lounge was stunned. Though they were in a shooting club and had fired plenty of rounds earlier, this was different.
Shooting at targets was one thing; shooting at people was entirely different.
The second gunshot snapped everyone out of their stupor, and screams erupted around the room.
No one panicked and ran blindly, though. Those who frequented Nebula's club were seasoned gun enthusiasts, and their first instinct was to hit the floor in response to a live shooting.
Loose bullets ricocheting around the room posed a deadly risk.
Yet one person reacted faster than the rest.
Just before the second shot, Margot Robbie had already moved.
She'd been paying close attention to the conversation behind her, occasionally sneaking glances over her shoulder. That was when she witnessed Eddie pulling the trigger on his companion.
Margot was momentarily stunned but quickly overcame her shock.
She was no ordinary woman. Growing up on a farm in Australia, she had ridden horses, handled guns, hunted rabbits, killed deer, and even fought kangaroos. She had defended her farm from wild animals more than once. Deep down, she carried a cowboy's resilient, fierce nature.
Most women in such a situation would panic, maybe scream or cower on the floor. But Margot recovered in less than a second. Without a scream or a duck, she turned her gaze on the back of the crazed veteran's head.
She was directly behind Eddie Routh, who had no idea she was there.
Perhaps it was her cowboy instincts, but Margot didn't hesitate. She grabbed the ceramic cup from the table and swung it hard at the back of Eddie's head.
With all her strength, she smashed the cup down just as the second shot rang out.
Thud!
The sound of two stones colliding filled the room.
The porcelain cup, crafted by a company known for supplying the British royal family, was solid. It struck Eddie's head with such force that blood instantly spurted from the impact, though the cup itself remained intact.
Eddie Routh was no longer the elite soldier he had once been. After discharge, he'd been unemployed for a long time, weakened by mental and emotional struggles.
A blow like that would drop most people, and Eddie was no exception.
Matthew, mid-kick, noticed Eddie suddenly crumpling as if struck. His kick still connected, though, landing in Eddie's stomach rather than a more vital area. Still, it was enough to send Eddie and his chair crashing backward.
Matthew emerged from under the table, kicking Eddie's revolver out of reach. Seizing the moment while Eddie was dazed, he tackled him, pinning Eddie's hands above his head with one hand and gripping his neck with the other.
Looking up, Matthew saw Margot Robbie standing nearby, holding a bloody ceramic cup.
It was clear now—Margot had been the one to take Eddie down with the cup.
These sturdy cups from Nebula were true lifesavers. Matthew made a mental note to order some for himself from that British company.
Chris Kyle, his belt in hand, hurried over and expertly tied up Eddie's wrists. Matthew noted that Chris's left ear was bleeding slightly, though it didn't seem serious. It looked like the bullet had grazed him.
"Margot, call the police!" Matthew told her.
Margot finally noticed her hands trembling as she put the cup down and fumbled for her phone to dial 911.
"You alright?" Matthew asked Chris.
Chris shook his head slightly. "I'm fine."
Matthew glanced at Chad's lifeless body and knew instantly that Chad couldn't be saved. Shot point-blank in the head with a powerful revolver, half his skull was gone. Survival was impossible.
With Eddie Routh restrained, Matthew pulled up a chair and sat down, noticing his own legs shaking slightly.
Today had been far more dangerous than last time.
At such close range, if Eddie had aimed the first shot at him instead of Chad, there would have been no chance to dodge.
If it hadn't been for Margot hitting Eddie with that cup, Matthew's life would still be at risk.
Sometimes survival required a gamble.
Looking over, he saw Margot watching him with a pale face, clearly shaken. He gave her a nod, acknowledging that she had, in a way, saved his life today.
This woman was truly extraordinary, showing rare bravery in the face of such danger.
Margot was visibly rattled, and as he approached, Matthew gave her a reassuring pat on the arm. "It's over. You're safe now."
Margot gripped his arm tightly, and he could feel her hand shaking.
"Let me hold on a moment," she said openly, not hiding her lingering fear. "I need a minute to calm down."
Matthew allowed her to cling to his arm, even though her grip was painful. The harrowing experience had brought them closer in an instant.
"What the hell…" he muttered, looking over at Chris and Chad's body. "What kind of grudge could Eddie have to make him pull a gun on them?"
Matthew's luck had been terrible, crossing paths with someone like Eddie Routh. But in another sense, he was lucky: the cup had struck Eddie in the face, deflecting the second shot.
And, as it turned out, an exceptionally brave woman had made all the difference.
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