A split second. That's all it took. But then it wasn't only training, it was what her life had been all about. Observing the surroundings, checking the inputs, processing the data; checking the variables and deciphering the output scenarios. Then choosing the best possible outcome and acting accordingly.
And all this done within the split of a second. It wasn't training anymore, it wasn't a well thought out reaction, it was instinct.
The bullet with its velocity and the arm that had fired it. That was no practiced hand pressing the trigger, it was a shot fired by a defeated person who couldn't care about the consequences anymore. It wasn't aimed to maim, it was aimed to injure, to hurt, to kill. And the emotion behind that, the belittled feeling, was a foundation strong enough to steady the hand. The trajectory would prove fatal. And this time, it wouldn't be mere surgery.
So she listened and responded to a lifetime of training, followed her instincts. She had seen what the man's loss did to John, what his loss would mean to all of them. The cost would be unbearable, insurmountable.
And to be honest, she was prepared for this. All her life. The only difference being her loss here wouldn't be at the hand of a random bullet fired by some stranger behind a mask. No, her loss here would be to save, save them all. And they would survive, all of them.
She was blessed that unlike AJ or any of her other mates, she had a choice to select the bullet she would be killed by. And as any assassin worth his salt knew, it couldn't get better than this.
In the end, there wasn't much of data processing. She knew what she needed to do. She had to save the man who had saved them all. Again and again. And he would do it yet again.
Pushing Sherlock away and taking the bullet meant for him was the easiest choice ever presented to her. And Mary took it with the lightest of hearts. She knew she was lucky in that she was going out on her own terms, the only way she had always lived her life.
