"What are you going to do, read me my rights?" Luther Mahoney said and laughed.

"You have the right the remain silent—" Kellerman started to say, but was interrupted by the sound of the door being slammed open. He turned his head to look at who had come in, but never stopped aiming his gun at Mahoney.

It was two black men, both carrying Mac-10s gangster-style.

"You're dead, Mahoney!" yelled one of the men. "You're—" he was about to go on when he suddenly realized that he and his friend weren't the only people in the room with guns.

Everyone stood there, frozen, not exactly sure who would be the first to put down his gun.

The two men exchanged a nervous glance. "Come on, Clarence, let's get out of here," said the one who'd been silent until now.

"No! Shut up, Tyrell! Mahoney killed my brother! Antonio died in the street like a dog! I'm not leaving here without Mahoney's head!" Clarence said. His Mac-10 wavered and made everybody nervous.

Tyrell's own semi-automatic never budged, though his resolve did. "I don't know . . ." he said.

"Hey, guys, I'm Terri," Stivers said, trying to take advantage of Tyrell's doubts. She put her weapon back in its holster. She moved her jacket slightly so her badge would be in plain sight. "So far you haven't done anything wrong. Your weapons could be legally registered for all we know. We're here for Mahoney. If you walk away right now, we'll forget you even exist."

Tyrell was nodding. "Listen to the lady, Clarence. This is nuts. Even if you shoot Mahoney, these cops'll shoot you."

"That's right," Stivers said pleasantly. "And your momma don't need both of her boys dying in one day."

"But Mahoney killed Antonio for nothing! Someone set Antonio up! He was always straight with everyone!" Clarence sobbed. "He didn't deserve this!"

"As straight as a drug dealer could be," Kellerman muttered.

"What did you say?" Clarence said, his Mac-10 now pointing at Kellerman.

"Nothing," Kellerman said quickly.

"Yeah, well, maybe I should just kill all of you and then there won't be no witnesses."

"That's not a good idea, Clarence. Not too many people will cry if you shoot Mahoney. But if you shoot three cops too, you're going to be in for a world of hurt," Stivers said. "You can still put down your gun and walk away."

"No!" Clarence yelled.

And then time seemed to slow down for Kellerman. He could see the barrel of the Mac-10 being aimed at Mahoney. He could practically see Clarence's finger tightening around the trigger. He knew he'd never have enough time to swing around his gun and shoot Clarence, so he launched himself at him, hoping to knock him down before he could spray the room with bullets; a Mac-10 was hard to control.

Shots rang out. Tyrell, Stivers, and Lewis instinctively threw themselves on the floor.

Without looking to see if Clarence was all right, Tyrell scuttled out of the room on all fours, then everyone could hear him start running once he got into the hallway.

Stivers suddenly realized that she'd closed her eyes when the shooting had started. She opened them and saw Kellerman lying on top of Clarence, both of them very still, blood spreading on the floor.

Then Clarence moaned, but couldn't seem to be able to focus his eyes. But there was a red, round hole in Kellerman's back. "Officer down!" she screamed.

Now Lewis popped up. "What? No!" he said, running over to Kellerman. He turned him over and saw a large exit wound in his chest pumping out blood. That meant that Kellerman was still alive, his heart was still beating. But it wouldn't be for much longer if he didn't do something about it. Lewis yanked off his sport coat, wadded it up, and applied heavy pressure to the wound.

Stivers was just standing there beside him, gaping. "Damn, Terri, call this in, now! And then get Mahoney!" Lewis yelled.

Stivers took her radio out of her pocket and called for an ambulance. After she got confirmation that it was on the way, she surveyed the apartment. Bullet holes peppered the walls and the ceiling. She walked over to Mahoney, who looked like he'd almost been cut in two by the hail of bullets. Even before Stivers checked his pulse, she knew he was dead.

She stood there numbly, and let an EMT put a blanket around her when they arrived. They whisked Kellerman and Lewis away, and then checked Clarence's pupils.

"A mild concussion," a paramedic diagnosed. "He'll live."

And then they took him away too, leaving Stivers with Luther Mahoney's dead body. She'd have to wait for the medical examiner to arrive to pronounce him dead, and to talk to the Homicide detectives. This was a murder, after all.

She sat down heavily on Mahoney's couch and said a little prayer for Kellerman. She replayed the incident in her mind even though she hadn't seen it. But it was obvious what had happened. Clarence shot Mahoney. Mahoney had been trying to shoot back at him, but he got Kellerman instead. Despite everything, Stivers thought, Kellerman had tried to save Mahoney's life. While I just stood there, watching.

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