Chapter 198

word count 1134

Hank's voice commanding him to "stand down" was nothing more than background noise and clatter crushed by the thunderous rage pounding in Buzz's head. His hands cupped the revolver, the handle stony and cold against his skin, feeling heavy in his grasp, and darker, and more deadly. The barrel pushed against the flab at the back of Bigelow's neck, abrasive steel grating against soft pink flesh.

Images passed through his mind...the ghastly remains of so many clean ups after Bigelow massacred people. They weren't always men and they weren't always criminals. The monster lived for blood lust, for the screams of innocents when he laid his scalpel into people, dissecting them while they still breathed and were crying for mercy, tearing out organs or ripping off limbs. This mother fucker did not deserve to live. In truth, he did not deserve this merciful a death. He should be drawn and quartered just like his victims, his heart ripped out while it was still beating. His screams should fill the night and his blood should make rivers of anguished red horror around his dying body. His agony should make the planet itself shudder in pain. Buzz grasped his gun harder and pushed against the doctor's neck with more pressure. He inhaled with labored breaths.

Hank looked in panic to Gil and their eyes met. The old, familiar stream of consciousness to his old partner, that gleam that spoke volumes, glowed from Gil's eyes. He was telling him they had to stop Buzz. They couldn't let him gun this ogre down in cold blood.

Gil felt that giant man, Bigelow, stirring with more and more movement under his calf which was still pinning him to the ground. The guy had been stunned but now he was coming to, coming to life again. Gil shot a glance at Buzz. The boss's hands grasped the service revolver with such rigidity there was no doubt he was beyond rationalizing and was prepared to act out purely on hostility. He had to be stopped.

Time was moving at a snail's pace. Every thought he had, every slight movement of Buzz's hand seemed to be in slow motion. Gil's mind raced and his instincts clattered. They had to stop Buzz and they had to contain Bigelow. Nothing less would do. Nothing more heinous could happen here. The big man's body beneath him now struggled with increased determination. If Buzz detected this new movement, he'd shoot for sure. He'd shoot an unarmed man in the back.

He looked to Hank and their eyes met. Gil shot him an imperceptible nod in Buzz's direction. Hank blinked his eyes in understanding. He gave the other cop the "ready-GO" nod they'd used for years and in the next instant, all hell broke loose.

Gil slammed himself full body pounding down to contain the struggling Bigelow and to shield him from any stray bullets. Hank swung his leg and kicked Buzz in the stomach while simultaneously hurling his arms, still grasping his gun, to slam full weight against Buzz's chin. The impact stunned the big cop and the stomach kick sent him flying backwards off balance, falling to the ground. An “OOMPH” punctuated his landing as Hank jumped on him and grabbed up the revolver. In the meanwhile Gil pounded the back of Bigelow's head with his gun, knocking him out cold. It was cruel, but kinder than the kill shot that Buzz had intended to execute.

Gil and Hank sat back from their victims, breathing in gasps, and looked to each other. Their eyes met and next so did their smiles. They were the best damn team in the business, and that was a fact.

* * *

It was later when he sat in Emergency, an ice pack against his chin, that Buzz came to the reality of his situation. His anger. It had taken over him again. Sent him flying into a rage, almost made him shoot a defenseless perp in the back. Thank God he had his team to step in and stop him before he ruined his life. But that was a fix for only today. He needed to address this problem once and for all, for good.

Trudy appeared in the doorway of the cubicle, her crazy eyes dancing at him, and her mouth in the usual cute, little pout.

“Buzz, hon! I came as soon as I heard you were hurt!” She rushed up and hugged him.

He held her close. Perhaps she was the one person in this world who understood his turmoil, who wrestled with trying to keep herself in line just like he did. But Trudy never killed anyone. He had to face the truth. He was a cop, armed and dangerous. And today, he had almost dishonored that duty by taking an innocent life while in a rage. He was only human, but he'd taken a sacred vow to protect and defend and what he almost did today was indefensible. If he couldn't control his anger, he shouldn't be carrying a gun. He should never make a farce out of his sacred duty.

He hugged Trudy close and thanked God at least he had her.

* * *

Gil and Hank stood together by a coffee urn, drinking down the golden liquid in silence. The shock of what had just transpired seemed to hold each of them in its spell. How often do you have to take down your superior to keep him from hurting an unarmed criminal? The magnitude of what they'd done...Hank's hands were still shaking, and Gil was in a total state of confusion. So far, neither had talked to Buzz, so they had no idea what they were in for. But neither would have done it all any differently. Buzz's actions were indefensible.

Gil looked to Hank and one of his vibrant Latino smiles escaped, his teeth shining like piano keys, straight across white and gleaming. “You did good out here, bro!” he said.

Hank looked back. “Couldn't have done it with you!”

“Yep!” Gil replied. “We do work well together.”

Hank cleared his throat. “It's a shame we're with other partners now. I mean, we were the best working together. I mean the synchronization, the communication...” He paused. “The comraderie.”

Gil looked back. “Yeah,I especially liked that...the camaraderie.” He took a long sip of joe.

They looked at one another.

“Let's partner again!” They said it at the same time and burst out laughing.

“Yeah!” Gil said, then paused. “But what about Jimmy and Marisa?”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen those two looking at one another? They'll make a great team on their own.” Hank rolled his eyes.

“And a team is born and another reborn!” Gil said, toasting Hank with his Styrofoam coffee cup.