She eyes him while he's wiping the remnant splatters of blood off his face. Tries not to grimace as she makes her way over through the crowd of FBI agents still lingering in the field.
Max straddles up to him, hair and coat blowing in the wind as the helicopter takes off. There's an edge to her voice when she whispers, "You mind telling me what the hell that was about?"
Weston takes half a step back, a coy grin on his face. "What, what was about?"
Noticing the way her jaw clenches and eyebrows raise, he knows he's in for a major chew out.
"Hard to believe I ever thought you were a gentleman," she scoffs. "You just beat a man within an inch of his life. Unnecessarily if I might add."
"Hmm, I never noticed." He countered a teeny bit sarcastically.
She ran a hand down her face in agitation, "Mike, I may not know you that well, but what just occurred was definitely not normal."
Weston avoided her probing gaze, staring out at the remaining agents to spot Hardy and Mendez speaking heatedly; probably trying to bargain for his job.
Max grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her, he could see the concern in her eyes.
"You need to talk to someone," he tried to interrupt but she kept speaking, this time in a less harsh voice. "Don't try and deny it, I saw what happened. To be honest I didn't think you were going to stop beating Luke, I know he was a psychotic dick, but that was over the line."
Weston gives a bitter chuckle, "Max…I think the line's been crossed a few times now and not just by me. You and Ryan working together; what if something worse would have happened? You, both of you could have been killed."
They stared at each other for a beat, listening to the buzz surrounding them.
"What about you?" She says suddenly, stance hardening.
He raises an eyebrow, "What about me?"
"Mike, you didn't have to come and risk your own life. We could've handled things."
He truly laughs this time, but tones it down when two officers glance over at them.
"Yeah, right. With Ryan injured and you…you have no idea what these people are capable of. It's kill, or be killed, plain and simple. Otherwise, people die Max."
Glancing over at Mendez and Hardy, he narrowed his eyes as she walked away, a heated look still on her face. Weston sighed, running a hand over his face and still felt a few specks of dry blood.
"The way I see it, this isn't going to end. Not until Joe and all the followers are dead. We're not going to get closure, until they're six feet under. Not me and especially not Ryan."
She exhaled slowly. "That's what this was about? Closure?"
He meekly nodded, noticing the comprehension bloom over her face. Max turned and their arms bumped as she glanced over at Ryan. Her uncle did the same, and the three of them locked gazes; understanding passed between the airwaves. Things were going to get a hell of a lot harder from here on out, and they couldn't trust anyone but themselves. Nobody was safe anymore.
Mike nudged her arm, "Come on, let's go see if we lost our jobs or not."
Max smiled weakly, "Fine, but we're not done here."
"Done what?" He tossed over his shoulder, already walking away.
She rolled her eyes at his denial, the childishness of it all. Still, Max urgently paced to keep up with him, hoping eventually, there would be closure for all three of them.