The Boy in Blue Always Get Their Man
Who: Danny, Jakob, and Jackson
Where: An apartment building in town
When: Early afternoon
Oh, how the game was on. how fun it was to be on a trail, to know that somewhere, quite possibly in these very walls, the prey of the entire police force was lurking. Were they scared? Panicked? Desperate? Jakob hoped so, such emotions always robbed the predictability from these proceedings. The last thing he wanted was to find some sad little man turning himself in to the police with a neat confession ready. Not that he thought that would be the case.
He'd left the building across the street without any answers, checking it off of the list in his notepad and hoping either MicKinnon or Haas was having more luck. Or any of the several other uniformed officers they had canvasing the neighborhood, for that matter. They'd been at this since mid-morning, after all, starting a block back and checking every residence and business they could for any kind of connection, no matter how tenuous it might be. Of course they were empty-handed at this point, and might've still been when they moved another block up if Jakob hadn't lingered on the sidewalk for a moment.
it was getting later, late enough that plenty of the menial jobs in the city were changing shifts, creating a solid ebb and flow of traffic of all sorts throughout the city. It was lessened here, held back somewhat by the amount of police lingering, but there was still movement. The movement was, in fact, what clued Jakob in. The man walking past the last building that Jakob had sent McKinnon into was nondescript, sure; shorter, scrawny, wearing a ragged old peacoat. Really, there was nothing about his look to draw suspicion. What did it was the way he froze when he seemed to notice the police cars on all sides, almost turning back the way he'd come, hesitating, worrying...
Of course Jakob had followed him, his curiosity piqued. He waved after a pair of uniforms as he crossed the street, pointing them casually to the alleys on either side. If this man was the killer? Well, he wouldn't have any escapes that Jakob would allow. "You and you," he said to another set of cops just outside the building's doors, "One go left, one go right. Find me officers Haas and McKinnon, Jackson and Daniel respectively. Tell them they're to assist me in checking this building." And then he was pushing inside the apartments, catching feet hurriedly receding up the stairs ahead of him. Oh, how the game is on...
Jackson wasn't happy to be doing uniform cop work. Not at all. Especially not while his sides were still aching from last night's encounter, and his black eye wasn't exactly a picture of beauty, even if the swelling had gone down. The only reason he was out on this charade of a mission was because of two things, both revolving around trust. One: If they really found the guy who had butchered all those women? He didn't trust Danny not to do something stupid that could jeopardize his career. And two? He didn't trust Jakob Hollis full stop. So there he was pacing some abandoned building looking for someone (who could look like anyone) who very much doubted he would find, when he knew there were other things weighing heavily on his mind. Babylon, for one. Stockard could contact him at any point and he would be here, dicking around with the uniforms on a wild goose chase, when he could actually be saving lives.
So when the kid in the uniform came to tell him Hollis wanted him out some place else? Jackson was not particularly thrilled. More dead ends to chase down? This wasn't even his department for crying out loud. But okay. He followed his fellow cop out into the street and dismissed him with a curt "Thanks, kid" as he saw the building he was supposed to go meet his so-called superior for the day in (even though neither man outranked the other, it was still Hollis' investigation) and ran inside.
Jakob was a good flight ahead of Jackson at this point, and Jackson wondered what the rush was? Had he actually spotted someone? Curiosity piqued and Jackson caught up with the man, taking two steps at a time, wincing slightly due to the bruising. "What's the deal, Hollis? You actually seen someone?" Jackson asked, sounding less sceptical than he felt, and slightly breathless from the run - but not enough to quieten down his voice.
Danny was tired. And possibly sort of hung over, but he'd been chugging coffee since about 4am. Against Jack's advice he'd called home the night before and told Janey not to wait up and thus he'd spent the night pouring over the case files for the previous murders. It wasn't his style, nor anything he was good at but it had helped to put together an area to canvas. Now, exhausted and frustrated that he and his team of uniforms hadn't found a damn thing on the last building on their list.
The young cop who'd been sent to fetch him stopped him just as he came out of the building. Danny had taken one look at the building and then sent the rest of his team around it. "If you find a door, you guard it," Danny told them, and they nodded in agreement. These men had more respect for Danny, their young hotshot, than punks run by the high ups like Hollis and Haas. "Even if it's grandma coming out, you stop her, search her and keep her for questioning."
Danny then headed into the building, hearing Jackson's voice as he came in and heading in the direction. He climbed the stairs slowly, quietly, and pulled his gun out of it's holster at his hip. Hopefully the sonofabitch would give him a good damn reason to shoot him in the face. The anger rippled through him and he tried to quell it but it was useless.
"I did, and..." Jakob was saying as Danny drew close, the words dwindling as he shot Danny a look. "Holster your weapon, officer," he chided disapprovingly, his voice quiter than Jackson's had been, "And fall in. We may be close." Glancing past them to the door back outside, Jakob nodded approvingly at the sight of uniformed cops waiting beyond. If the fire escape and alleys were covered too, then all they were missing was the actual killer. "I saw someone head in here, a neighbor described him as... unusual," he lied easily, "Coming and going at strange hours. We've investigated less, but we don't have a name or an apartment number. So we go door to door, we're looking for a single white male, upwards of thirty. Clothing suggests he works at the docks."
Jackson gave Danny a look, one that said 'cool it you jackass' without actually having to word it. Danny was a worry right now - his temper was pretty visible and barely beneath the surface. It was personal for Danny now - and Jackson couldn't help but wonder what the hell sort of superior officer let someone so involved with a case work it. Fucking Hollis. He then turned back to the man and frowned. "So what if he's changed outta work clothes? Tskk. But if door-to-door is how you wanna play this then it's your call" said Jackson, still not quite revealing the level of his uncertainty about the entire situation.
What were they gonna do, arrest every white male in the building? Dead ends and no evidence. Jackson was pleased that Hollis seemed to think they were on to something on one level - it was about time that this murdering fuck was put away - but he couldn't quite put his mistrust of the guy and the apparent slackness of his operation out of his mind.
Danny gave Hollis a good "fuck you" look and dropped his gun down to his side where it blended against the dark blue of his uniform pants. He wasn't putting the damn thing up, not matter how obnoxious Hollis was. Jackson and Jakob weren't the type to get away with walking around with weapons unholstered. "Let's just get a move on alright?"
Shooting a wry, thin-lipped smile at Danny, Jakob nodded and moved for the stairs. "I followed the man in question in here, Haas. I doubt he's had much time to change. We're looking for wet boots, a blue peacoat on the rack maybe," he explained, "The network that Officer McKinnon here reconfirmed against prior case files puts this neighborhood as a prime spot for our suspect to work from, let's see if it's right." He moved up the first flight of stairs, eyes on each step and seeking out the damp bootprints waiting in front of him. "We'll work our way down, I'll take fourth floor, McKinnon takes third, Jackson you've got second. If you get a single resident, ask for permission to enter. If they refuse, make a note of it. Judge McNamara down at the court house is sympathetic to the case and willing to expedite warrants. Questions?"
Jackson wanted to ask 'How come you're such a smug bastard?' but he repressed the urge, and simply shook his head, trying to ignore the sting of taking orders from someone who was meant to be his equal.
"Second floor's fine. Means I gotta do less climbing, right? Good luck, boys."
He shot Danny a wink - and hoped to hell that no-one told him he couldn't come in. Hoped even harder Danny didn't actually find the guy without Jackson there to stay his hand and back him up. Jackson squared his shoulders and prepped himself for what he figured would be another good half hour of harassing old ladies. It was like being 22 all over again. Hooray.
Danny watched his friend go, giving him a slight nod to the wink. Jackson was right to be worried, because Danny was itching for blood. He really hoped the guy was on his floor, and he gave Danny a decent reason to shoot him. "I've got uniforms at every door. Check for roof access while you're up there," he warned Hollis and started up after Jackson, ready for anything, gun still not holstered, but held discretely.
"You may be surprised, officer," Jakob called over his shoulder, "to learn that this is not my first investigation." He didn't spare another word on Danny as he climbed the steps at an almost leisurely pace, striving to hear the subtle sounds of life from the floor ahead of him. There were snippets floating on the edge of hearing; a radio hissing static around bursts of music, a crying child, the creak of bedsprings in steady rhythm. Jakob laughed to himself as he moved, deciding that the interior matched the exterior; this was a tenement. Full of immigrants, no doubt, he mused as he stepped to the first door, knocking and taking a moment to gag at the cooking smells coming from within.
Jackson attempted enthusiasm as best he could as he chapped on the first door, not particularly surprised when he heard yelling in Spanish, and a ridiculously adorable small girl in her pyjamas opened the door looking bemused. She must've been like, 7. Jackson peered over her head and gazed into the gareishly decorated apartment, very much doubting a serial killer was hiding in there. They had floral wallpaper, for Christ's sake. Still.
"Your Mom or Dad home, sweetheart? Need to ask them a coupla questions." He asked the girl, grinning broadly and flashing his badge, hoping she didn't run off squeaking on account of his bruisey face. The small child was however, probably used to bruised people, so she nodded, gawping, and hollered in Spanish over her shoulder. Then a harassed looking Mexican woman appeared in a bath robe with a fat baby cradled in one arm and a ratty stuffed mouse in the other, which she handed to the girl, who promptly buried her face into it's somewhat stained head and ran back into the apartment. The woman stared at Jackson as if he had a growth on his face. Jackson sighed. This was awesome
Danny was having similar luck on his floor. The first door he knocked on had been opened by a girl who barely looked fifteen but like she hadn't eaten in three days and was looking for a fix of some sort. She took one look at the uniform and offered him all sorts of sordid favors for a price. He did his best to nod politely and move on once he was sure she hadn't seen their mark. The whole hunt and peck method was making him nervous and itchy and those combined led to trigger happy. He was gonna shoot this bastard and then find out whoever started that girl on what she was on and shoot that sonofabitch too.
The trail wasn't much warmer up on Jakob's floor, but he was definitely possessed of more patience than either of his fellow officers. "Of course I'll send your husband home if I catch him drinking," he told a woman in her native Polish, smiling curtly until the door closed. The moment it did, his expression turned pained, head shaking for no one but himself. Jakob hated places like these, with their supposedly welcome unwashed masses in all of their ignorance and crude dreams. Squabbling and drinking and fucking until they shot out some kids like he'd once been, except that their brood would only perpetuate the cycle.
He moved from the door towards the next, smoothing a line from his brow before he raised a hand and knocked. He could hear scrabbling inside, the sounds of someone hurriedly doing something before they moved to answer the door, and when they did? Jakob's smile was genuine. He was almost positive it was the man he'd seen outside; a shorter, mousy man with lined features and a rapidly balding dome. "Excuse me, sir, police," Jakob greeted, flashing his badge and pressing into the door slightly, "Can I come inside? I need to ask a few questions." He watched uncertainty blossom fresh and plain on the simpleton's face, feeling a tingle race up his spine in neat time with it. Killer or no, this man? Was hiding something. I can only hope the others are having nearly so much fun...
Four doors later and Jackson was finished, having interviewed mostly small children (apparently all families below the bread line trained their kids to open their doors - maybe it was because cops instantly put you into their favour if you had a cute kid? Who knew?) and one elderly Chinese gentleman who seemed to think he was a tie salesman. He'd always kind of secretly liked the door-to-door part of uniform. Not so much the taking of orders from people who didn't know their butt from their beard, and the constant dealing with parking violations and dumb drunks, but the door-to-door was okay. Under these circumstances? It felt like a massive waste of time - there were endless better things for him to be doing, mostly revolving around Eris, and a handful around Brett. But he still kind of liked meeting face to face with the people he was helping to protect, so Jackson felt a bunch more cheerful as he made his way up the steps to the third landing, where hopefully Danny would be standing just as fruitless and slightly calmer. With his gun back in its holster at the very least.
Danny's gun was far from his holster. Actually it wasn't even at his side. It was up and aimed a door at the end of the hall. He'd banged on the door a few times, but no answered but he heard scuffling behind it, as if something was trying to find somewhere inside to hide. Danny heard Jackson come up behind him and motioned for him to grab Jakob and then pointed towards the door. Once he had decent back up, he was going through the door.
Upstairs, Jakob was disappointed. He recognized the smell lingering in the air, cheap hashish if he was any judge of quality, and he turned a disappointed look on the apartment's resident. "Mr. Rittilo, if I find out there's anything ou were withholding? You can expect officers with a search warrant to come back in my stead. Am I understood?" he asked sharply, knowing the man's panic would be enough to make him implicate someone in the building. He waited for a shaky nod from the older man before moving to the door and stepping out, slamming it sharply. Two doors left, and Jakob was beginning to think he'd played the wrong odds.
No such luck on that front, then. Jackson's face was the picture of exasperation as he saw Danny going to town on some poor soul's front door. "Danny," he hissed, eyeing the door with uncertainty, "this is fucking dumb - I'm going to get Hollis and you are going to fucking cool your heels, and then we'll check this thing out. That's an order" Yeah, Jackson wasn't scared to pull rank just because Danny was a friend. He was stopping Danny from shooting some civilian was what he was doing. He shook his head and once again took the stairs two at a time, reaching the fourth floor landing and spotting Jakob.
"Hollis," Jackson called down the hallway, "Danny's found a locked door and he's pretty dead set on gettin' in there, so you wanna come check it out make sure your officer don't blow his top?"
The disapproval in Jackson's tone was unmissable. Danny shouldn't be working this case, and if Hollis couldn't recognise that? He was a fucking shoddy Detective, as well as a slime bag.
Danny had given Jackson his best one finger salute when Jackson pulled rank on him. Rank be damned he was both older and able to lay better bruised on Haas than the ones he was already sporting, he wasn't concerned with rank at the moment. He was concerned with getting in this goddmaned door. What the fuck was taking Jackson so long to get Hollis down here. Danny hoped the apartment didn't have a window with a fire escape.
"The hell?" Jakob snarled, turning from the half-open doorway and leaving the woman he'd been questioning to gape after him as he hurried towards Jackson. "God, what is that green fool thinking?" he spat, ushering Jackson forward and leaping down the stairs quickly, "He's going to blow the entire case!" Inside, of course, Jakob was delighted. Let Danny kill their killer, it would give Jakob leverage to use. Even better, let him kill some innocent! The things Jakob could do with such a secret... "McKinnon!" he roared down the stairwell, "Hold up, damnit!"
Jackson waved at the woman over his shoulder as Jakob dragged him down the stairs, an attempt at apologising for taking her valuable time. Well maybe if you figure he's volatile you should have him holed up away from the entire situation. Pretty sure you were working with him when they found Stella, I bet you know how fucking hard he's taking it was the thought flowing through Jackson's head in an internal rail against Hollis as they flew down the stairs. But there was no point verbalizing it. It bordered too close on 'argument' territory and the case at hand right now was stopping Danny from blowing someone's head off. Killer or not.
Danny was royally pissed everyone was freaking the fuck out. Jack has his damned panties in a twist over something or another and now Hollis was bitching at him. This was the best damn lead they'd had over drugged up underaged whores and drunk fucks. Hell Danny was sure Jackson was already planning a raid on the building once they got done just to sift out all the shit. "Will you two just shut the fuck up and back me up," Danny said in a loud whisper. He shifted again, this time to get at a better angle for the door.
Flattening against the wall to the left of the door, Jakob listened intently for a moment as he scowled at Danny. "You're sure someone's in there?" he asked, "Have you even announced yourself? Or were you planning on kicking in doors like the cops in the movie serials?" For all Jakob knew, this killer was crafty enough to be waiting, and he didn't want to catch a knife today. Maybe this wasn't even anything vital, maybe an undocumented immigrant. "Start by holstering your weapon, officer," Jakob chided even as he let his hand rest on the grip of his own pistol.
Jackson glared at Hollis. He really didn't like that guy. But he was right about Danny needing to put his weapon away and get his shit together. Jackson could appreciate the desire to run in guns blazing. He got in trouble enough for it himself. But that was something he justified - he told himself he was never emotionally involved, and that he always had enough evidence to know exactly what was going down when he performed a raid. And he never shot anyone who wasn't about to shoot him first.
"C'mon, Danny. Maybe there's just no-one home, huh? You're gonna do somethin' you're gonna regret" he said, moving beside his friend, his eyes fixed on Danny's gun. He'd pull it away himself if he had to. The warning signs of something going royally wrong were flashing like crazy as far as Danny's behaviour was concerned.
"Thank you very much assholes, but I know how to do my goddamn job. I banged on the door, and said police and right after I hear scurrying about like someone's trying very hard not to be spotted. So either it's our guy or it's someone else hiding something, which should make Mr. High and Mighty over here pleased in some way." Danny nodded towards Jack who was starting to chaff Danny's ass with his goody two shoes act. "How about this Hollis, you open the door and I back your ass up. Then you don't have to get your hands dirty if someone needs to shoot the bastard."
"God save us if you're the future of the force," Jakob muttered at Danny, scathed by the younger cop's demeanor, "And mind how you speak to senior officers outside of this moment, McKinnon. Most of them won't take it well." Of course, this wasn't the time for a lecture on etiquette, so Jakob let it drop as he took Danny's place in front of the door and gave Danny a little push to where he'd been standing. Leaning in towards the door, he listened critically for a long moment, hearing soft scuffling sounds and a sharp click, frowning as he wondered what it might be.
"Alright," he said, looking from side to side, "I'll breach the door. Haas, McKinnon, follow me in but do not use force. Sweep the place fast, let's find the occupant or the route they escaped from." This was Jakob's first raid in a long time now, and it was exciting to be in the moment like this, even in this mixed company. Turning towards Jackson, Jakob stepped back to give himself room to hit the door, holding up a hand and counting down from three on his fingers. He only got down to two before their prey changed the plan, revealing the click's origin as the shotgun that suddenly ripped two huge holes in the door with a deafening boom and dropped Jakob as one shoulder burned from the impact of buckshot pellets.
Jackson's first instinct when he heard gunfire was to pull out his own weapon. He ducked, and moved quick as he could over to Hollis, who had been floored, examining the guys wound and gesturing to Danny to get low. A shotgun was not awesome. There was probably some skittish drug dealer in there who'd been listening hard ever since Danny started shouting his mouth off trying to break in. That was okay though. Now that they had a legitimate bad guy to deal with? Jackson was in his element.
"Lower your weapon! You're surrounded! That was not a smart move and any more shooting is gonna get you in a helluva lot more shit than you're already in!" Jackson yelled to the door, hearing the sounds of reloading and figuring that it did not bear well. This guy was gonna try and take them all with him.
Well it served Hollis right for giving him a goddamned lecture about protocol. Fucking idiot and now he was useless. The blast had been almost deafening since Danny had been so close to the door, but the distinct click of a shotgun barrell being re-loaded some how permiated the ringing in his ears. Giving the damaged door a solid kick to push it inward, Danny felt it make contact with something that was just behind it. Not sure if he'd hit the gun or the person holding it, Danny followed the door in, gun ready and eyes blazing. "Drop the weapon," he yelled once he saw the guy who matched the description Jakob had given them. Deep down he hoped the guy took aim. All he needed was a reason and he could shoot the fucker in the face.
For as bad as it could've been, Jakob was lucky. He could feel birdshot littering the flesh of his bicep, at least one piece grinding cruelly against the bone of of his shoulder as the points of contact started coloring his coat sleeve red. "Watch yourself!" he blurted at Jackson, heels pushing on the wooden floor as jakob kicked himself back from the ruined doorway.
Within, the man who'd fired stared down Danny for a long, baleful moment over the sights of his gun, fingers going white-knuckled as he squeezed the now-empty weapon tightly. All at once, he dropped it and bolted to his right, dashing from the main room that connected to the door and disappearing from their immediate sight as glass shattered. "Fire escape!" Jakob shouted, spotting the man's movement, "Go! I'll be fine, just go!"
At least he dropped his weapon... thought Jackson, who never relished the idea of anyone getting shot - especially not fellow officers. He re-holstered his weapon and tore through the man's apartment pretty much as soon as the word "escape" had fallen from Jakob's lips, not really taking in the décor - although catching a glimpse of what looked like newspaper clippings stuck to one of the less than clean walls. He flew to the grimy (now broken) window and stuck his head out, avoiding the ragged glass that still remained around the edges, saw the guy careening down the rusted metal steps at about 75 miles per hour, and chuckled to himself. The idiot was going to get to the bottom and see he street crawling with cops, which was no skin off Jackson's nose - he wasn't a danger to anyone without his shotgun, and even if he wasn't thier guy? Scumbag was obviously guilty of something. Jackson may not have liked Hollis, but no-one got away with shooting a cop. No-one.
"Idiot's headed to the street - we got guys there though, so he's cornered - I'm gonna follow just to make sure he gets arrested nice 'n quick!" Jackson called over his shoulder to Danny, grinning, and swinging one of his legs over the sill - adrenaline and the love of catching villains momentarily making him forget the dull ache in his ribs.
Fuck. Danny should have shot the ass when he had a chance. Now he was jumping out damned windows. At least Jackson was finally getting into the chase. "Wait here, I'll send up help," he told Hollis, following after Jackson, gun at his side again. Danny stuck his head out the window just in time to see the suspect duck into the second floor. "Damnit Jack, he's spotted our back up, second floor. GO!" Danny gave Jackson a healthy shove towards the stairs and shouted down to the men on the street. "Cover every exit! I got an officer down, third floor. Peterson, Michaels, I need you up here with him. NOW!"
"Watch who you're shovin' out a window, you dumbass, are you forgettin' who outranks who?" said Jackson in irritated (although not entirely unamused) tones, "Anyway, I'm goin' ain't I? Jesus. You take the main stairs, cut him off from both sides. And holster your freakin' weapon!!!"
Danny could be a grade-A jerk sometimes, it was so unbelievable that he'd actually just tried to push Jackson out of a window in his temper that it was kind of almost funny. Still, shaking his head in mild disbelief, Jackson pulled himself out of the window and started pounding down the metal fire escape stairs after their guy. He caught a glimpse of him struggling through the second floor window and rolled his eyes. Right. Because there was gonna be a whole different route of escape that way. Who was this bozo?
Annoyed as ever at Jackson, Danny had to admit he had a good point about the stairs. Doubling back, taking in bits and pieces of the apartment as he hurried outside. He passed Peterson and Michaels on the stairs, pointing them in the right direction. He bounded down the stairs, and down the hall to the room below the above apartment, eyes open for either Jackson or their suspect.
Jackson arrived at the window the guy had ducked through seconds later, and saw the perplexed Chinese gentleman who had wanted to buy his tie earlier scratching his head as the balding dude (who was spritely for someone who looked so out of shape) they were chasing whizzed through his apartment. Jackson didn't add to the Chinese man's state of mental wellbeing by following him. He made a weird apologetic grimace at him and tumbled through the window. "Stop right now! You're already in a lot of trouble, don't make it worse by continuing to run!" Jackson yelled - to the figure now dissappearing through Fu Manchu's front door.
"Aw, for the love of... this guy is a freakin' idiot, you know that?" panted Jackson jovially to the Chinese gent who shook his head and started gabbling in Cantonese. Jackson laughed, regained his balance and some of his breath and followed the quarry into the hallway at the best speed he could manage.
The suspect found the last thing he could ever want in the hallway, Danny waiting with his gun ready. The guy was looking behind him for Jackson when he came out of the apartment, so that when he turned to look forward he had a split second before Danny landed an elbow in the guy's face. The suspect recoiled quickly, but didn't fall over just doubled back stunned. "What part of 'stop' do you not understand?" The gun was back in the guy's face. This time if he blinked too hard, Danny was going to shoot. Politics be damned. They'd give him a medal for taking out this guy.
Jackson reeled through the door a split second later, and his smile fell when he saw Danny standing with his gun drawn square on their suspect.
"Officer, you're gonna holster your weapon right now and cuff that man." Jackson said through gritted teeth. Far as Jackson was concerned, Danny's head space was the wrong one for this situation. They had a suspect (who was not a particularly solid suspect, far as evidence went - Jackson was surprised that more people hadn't pulled heat when they'd come knocking) who was unarmed and within arms length. But Jackson thought he could see fire behind Danny's eyes and that was far from good.
Danny's head went to Jackson, reacting to the orders. It really pissed him off when Jackson didn't call him by his name. Smug son of a bitch ass kisser gets promoted before Danny and now Danny has to listen to him? If he didn't like the bastard so much he'd shoot him too. The distraction though, gave their suspect the opening he was looking for and he dodged around Danny dashing down the hall towards the stairs. The movement caught in the corner of Danny's eye and he spun to shoot, gun aimed for a disabling hit, not the kill shot.
Jackson could've spat when the suspect bolted again but the thing that really caught in his throat was Danny pulling back that hammer and moving to shoot... "Danny! NO!" he yelled, physically leaping on Danny in order to slam him to the floor and stop him from shooting someone who could easily not deserve it. As he slammed Danny to the floor he felt the reverb and of course, heard the crack of gunfire. Untangling himself from Danny's limbs and growling with the pain that was now pounding through his bruised ribs, he looked downt he hallways, and felt his stomach turn.
The hallway contained one immobilized suspect, sure enough. Only that suspect? Most of his brains now seemed to be painting the far wall with a less than symmetrical spray of red. Around the body was a slowly creeping pool of thick black blood, and Jackson was too shocked by what he saw to properly disengage himself and tear away his gaze. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He couldn't find the right motor function to pull himself up from his knees.
"Shit... Danny.... he wasn't even armed. Shit"
Danny was a good shot, best in his class, but no one's a good shot when someone slams into them. His shot, intended for the suspect's leg, had been jerked upward, and landed squarely in the guy's head. This time he did holster his gun, standing from where Jackson had tackled him to look at the body. "If you'd not gotten in the way Jack, he'd only be without a leg rather than without a head. Why for fuck's sake do none of you think I can do my damn job?" Still the guy had shot Hollis, and he'd probably killed those girls, he'd probably killed Stella. He got what he deserved.
Jackson was making "gagging fish" face, and all of his colour had drained. Danny's comment didn't really register, but it didn't really have to - Jackson was already doing the whole blaming himself schtick internally. He had been trying to stop Danny doing something stupid, something that'd been brewing since their little chat in the locker room, something unethical. You can't shoot an unarmed man who is running away. You just can't
But it hadn't worked. Instead, he'd thrown the shot. Now a man was dead, because of Jackson. Jackson'd seen plenty of dead bodies, it wasn't the gore that was getting to him. It was simply the fact that Jackson'd never killed anyone before. He'd beaten a guy close to it, but that was different. That was a guy he knew for a fact had raped his little sister. Not just some schmuck in a crappy apartment complex.
"Why did you have to pull that motherfucking trigger? What the hell is wrong with you?" said Jackson to Danny, his heart not in the berating, not even looking at his friend. "We didn't even have a fucking shred of evidence. Holy shit"
Unlike Jackson, who was losing his mind, a cruel calm had settled on Danny. The last thing he was was concerned for this shit's well being. "We were in pursuit, the suspect assaulted an officer and then fled. Even after force he wouldn't come willingly. Ideally the hit would have disabled him, but you threw the shot off. I was completely in line. Fuck, I was in line to shoot him when he opened the damn shotgun on us." He looked down at his friend and his anger ebbed slightly. "Look, when Hollis asks, I took the shot. Stop acting like a girl and you can stay out of it."
Jackson looked up at Danny sharply, his moral compass taking a break from whizzing round like crazy trying to find "good" and settling for a moment on Danny's comment about him staying out of it. "Bullshit, Danny, we tell Hollis and whoever else asks the whole Goddamned story. I don't lie to save my own skin, especially not if it puts another Officer on the line, and don't insult me by suggesting that I would."
"Tell me what, exactly?" came Jakob's voice from the stairs as he rounded the corner and stepped out onto the floor. His coat was gone, shirt stained red around the edges of bandaging that had been hurriedly pressed into place beneath a makeshift sling. "And what would you be lying abo--" The second question went unfinished as Jakob looked past Danny and Jackson to the prone body on the floor and the dark sprays of red on the wall beyond. Below him, the front door of the apartment building thundered open as the street-level officers finally rushed into the building, and Jakob's expression was suddenly a mix of pain and ire. "Petersen, Michaels!" Jakob snapped back up the stairs, "Hold perimeter! Do not allow a single resident near that doorway!" And with that, he was stalking towards Danny and Jackson, something dark in his eyes as Jakob clenched his jaw tight against the ache in his arm.
Danny resisted the urge to kick his friend hard for being such a dumbass. Instead he just turned to Jakob, ready to face the music. "Suspect refused to be detained sir," Danny informed him with mock respect. "He attempted to flee the scene after harassing a citizen and being told on serval occasions to stop. He didn't."
Jackson pulled himself slowly to his feet, straightened out his jacket slightly, and pulled his hair back from his face with both hands, feeling the beginnings of a cold sweat slick through his hair and fingertips. Get it together you fucking moron he thought to himself, and looked at Danny, the coolness of his friend's demeanour not exactly helping with the guilt-party he was currently attending, before turning to Jakob.
"I knocked McKinnon down to stop him firing. The shot misfired. I screwed up and shot a man in the back." Jackson tried to sound less furious with himself that he obviously was, keep a lid on things in front of Hollis. He felt sick though, sick that he could've killed someone who was running away. It was abhorrent to everything he believed in.
"Listen very carefully," Jakob said to both men, eyes dark and intent as they darted between Jackson and Danny, "This was our perpetrator, he made very little effort to hide his exploits inside his own home. Now maybe it's the buckshot grinding against bone in my arm? But I'm not in the mood to let this case end badly." He took a deep breath, jaw setting against the pain. "The shot was not a mistake, am I understood? I'll handle the details with our superiors, but it needs to be clear with both of you that this was considered necessary in the moment. If the shot had been a mistake, we'd be looking at months of paperwork and bad press for excessive force, for not capturing this man sooner, we may even be accused of killing an innocent man and framing him. So. He turned to flee, seemed to reach for the weapon, and the shot was taken." The rest could be handled on his own, but initially Jakob needed to know that these men wouldn't break under the weight of something as trivial as morals. And if they didn't? Well, then he had them.
"That's exactly how I saw it," Danny reassured Hollis, relieved to hear that it was their guy and he'd had a hand in doing exactly what he wanted. Killing the damned son of a bitch. "Sound right to you Jackson?" Danny looked at his friend closely, knowing the younger man had lost his cool and the only semblance of togetherness he had going on was for Jakob. Danny's eyes dared Jack to consider a different plan of attack, a different side to this coin.
Jackson clenched his jaw. He knew there was a reason he didn't like Hollis. He wasn't going to lie to help them out of a little troublesome paperwork. No, screw that noise. "Even if there's plenty of proof that this is our guy - and honestly, without the opportunity to question him the only thing that'll have me convinced is a body in the bathtub - we ain't meant to be vigilantes. People are supposed to have faith in the law. That we're fair. Not that we shoot people execution style in their own homes, and if I gotta take the rap for a mistake in order to protect that, then I will." Jackson was still drained of colour, but he looked angry rather than nauseous, arms folded, glaring hard at Hollis and Danny. He was disappointed in Danny, too, because Danny was meant to understand that. The job was about justice for the wronged, not revenge for your own damn self. Hadn't he himself proven that when he put his sister's attackers behind bars instead of underground?
Jakob sighed, shaking his head faintly as he concentrated past the pain, looking to Jackson. "Detective Haas, please understand this, think carefully on it. In any just world, this man's death is not a bad thing. In any such world, we would be lauded as heroes for both putting a stop to his exploits and saving the prison system time before his inevitable execution." He took a moment to grimace at the burn, pulling back his makeshift bandage enough to see red still seeping into his shirt. "This man killed several women, people whose families want nothing more than to know that he's been stopped. Will you honestly risk the chance, no matter how small, that you or McKinnon could lose their shield for an honest mistake? One minor change in events, just one, and both of you get the rewards that we are due for serving and protecting."
Danny wasn't really concerned with rewards, killing the guy was reward enough, but he was concerned with keeping his job. He motioned to Jakob to give him a moment and then grabbed Jackson by the shirt collar and pulled him away for a moment. "Look Jack, let's just do what the guy says. We got our man, he's dead and now taxpayers don't have to pay for his damned execution. Let your goddamn morals go for half a second, man up and stop being a little girl about this." Danny gave Jackson an extra push to get the idea across. "Don't fuck this up Jack. You can't help your sister if you're out of a job." Okay, it was probably a low blow bringing his sick sister into all this, but sometimes you had to go that far with Jackson to get through his thick skull.
Jackson flinched when shoved against the wall, more because he was already black and blue underneath his shirt than because Danny was hurting him. It was the last straw though. He didn't need to be preached at and spin-doctored by Hollis, and he definitely didn't need Danny talking out of his butt about Jenny, a situation he knew next to fuck about.
"Get screwed," he spat, shoving Danny off of him, hard, "You are not the person I thought you were. You fuck around on your wife and then you don't bat an eyelash at shooting someone defenceless who's running away," he made a disgusted noise and pushed his way past Danny, glaring at Hollis, "As for you, say whatever the fuck you want - but if anyone comes asking me for the truth, I'll give it. I don't want to be a part of this dirty fucking deal any more. I don't do this job for rewards. I do it because it's a decent fucking thing to do. Both of you make me sick"
He wasn't shouting, his anger was cold and quiet and restrained, but as he stormed away from them he punched a wall. Hard. He was leaving. He was expecting a phone call. There were things he could do to repent, there were people he could really help out there. This was not that. This made his stomach churn. And at the back of his head a little voice sang 'killer killer killer' and no amount of scalding hot shower water he was about to indulge in was going to clean that feeling away.