An hour and a half later, most everything was bagged and recorded. Flack walked back in the store. "Security tape pretty much confirmed what we thought went down. And I've been asking around. Most everybody remembers hearing the shots, but the closest we have to a description is two guys in their late teens/early twenties wearing dark hoodies and baggy jeans." He rolled his eyes, "Fits nearly every guy in that age range walking around here."

Mac looked up, "Maybe we can get more off the tape."

Flack looked skeptical, "Maybe. It didn't look too promising when I just watched through it."

Mac shrugged, "We can but try." He turned as Stella spoke from behind the counter where she had lifted a print from the cash register.

"Last one! I should be all set here, Mac, if you want to get going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure. You get home and enjoy your day."

Mac nodded, "Ok. Call me if you need anything."

Stella walked with him out to his truck, "Thanks again, Mac."

He smiled, "No problem." He opened his door, "See you tomorrow."

"You know it!" Stella turned to go back to the convenience store.

"Hey?"

She turned, "Yeah?"

"Dinner."

Stella blinked. "What?"

"Dinner. You owe me dinner."

He had that look again. She walked back over to his truck, intrigued.

"Ok. Where?"

He shifted ever so slightly, "How about my place?"

Stella felt her mental jaw drop, "Mac Taylor, are you asking me on a date?"

He smiled, "Maybe."

She looked at him leaning easily on his truck, the only piece of formal work clothing he was wearing, his NYPD issued Crime Scene jacket, was currently undone, sleeves pushed up. He had that adorable little boy smile on his face, and suddenly the sun felt 20 degrees warmer. "You cooking?" she asked.

"Hey how is that fair?!" He grinned, "Is that a yes?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but just then, shouts and a commotion erupted from across the street. Both Mac and Stella turned to locate the cause.

"What now?" Stella queried incredulously just in time for them to see two people running in opposite directions from the small corner business, the owner right behind them, shotgun in hand, swearing a blue streak. "You're kidding me!" Stella said, shocked. Mac bolted across the street in pursuit of the fleeing criminals, yelling at them to stop, nearly getting hit by an unobservant motorist. "Mac!" Stella shouted after him.

Flack came running out, "What the hell's going on?"

"I think it's them," Stella called back to him as she raced after Mac. "We've got the one headed north, other one's headed east!"
Flack nodded, jumping into his car and shouting in turn into his radio for backup pursuit on the other suspect.

Stella sprinted after Mac. He and his quarry were several yards ahead, and she saw them turn and head down an alley. Making the turn behind them, Stella saw them racing towards a tall chain-link fence that separated the end of the alley from the back lot of a large body shop. Suddenly the suspect stopped and turned, drawing a gun all in the same motion, and a single, awful shot echoed through the close alley. Stella saw Mac's body shudder as he jerked to a stop. Time seemed to grind to a halt. She saw him look down and raise his hand to his abdomen. It came away covered in blood as he dropped to his knees. Then he was thrown backwards as two more shots rang out.

"NO!!" Stella screamed, her insides twisting indescribably. She yelled desperately into her radio, "Officer down! I repeat, officer down at Seely and 147th! I need medics here immediately!" Startled at the appearance of an additional pursuer, the gunman squeezed off three more shots wildly in her direction before clambering nimbly over the fence and disappearing into a maze of wrecked cars.
Stella rushed over to Mac who was lying in a rapidly growing pool of blood. He was ashen grey and his face was contorted in pain as he took rapid, gasping breaths. The shot to his belly was pouring blood and the final two had landed below his right collarbone and right-center chest.

Stella tore off her jacket and desperately tried to staunch the bleeding from his abdomen. He was awake, but seemingly incapable of anything except struggling to breath.

"Mac?! Mac?! Can you hear me?" Stella felt panic rise in her chest which threatened to overwhelm her, and hot tears formed in her eyes. "Dammit Mac, stay with me! Stay with me! Mac?!" She could hear sirens approaching.

He slid his hand over and grasped her knee. It was like ice. She gently took her right hand off her blood-soaked jacket and took his. He gripped it tightly and desperately, and Stella could feel his struggle to live. Tires screeched to halt and Flack appeared, face stricken and horror-stamped at the sight before him.

"Mac!! Oh god, Mac! Stella, what happened?! Here," he placed his hands on the now almost drenched jacket and applied pressure. Mac groaned.

"He just shot him, Don. The bastard just turned and shot him!" Absolute, white-hot rage rendered further speech impossible. But Mac's eyes started to droop as complete exhaustion began to set in, and Stella could hear blood gurgling in his airway as his grip on her hand weakened. The world started collapsing around her.