Chapter 8

Jo Danville cast her gaze upwards, towards the soft sounds of what she knew to be footfalls, and she saw dark figures take their positions on top of the next-door building, as well as between and on top of the cargo containers. She didn't know if they were inconspicuous enough. Jo had given Mac all the information she could about where she was and what she was seeing, circling the warehouse several times to check for potential exits. That way, Mac had been able to determine where exactly she was and which was the best course of action for the team and the Special Forces unit that he had called in on a whim's notice to overtake Lizarro and his friends, both there and where Sanchez and his group were. She waited for confirmation from Mac now that Sanchez had been taken in first, before they would go for Lizarro's gang. She had no idea how many of them there were. The risk had just been too great.

The detective suspected Mac was with the others, at Sanchez'. She felt a bit anxious, to hear from him. She didn't know what was going to happen. They had to go with the flow and just deal with things as they came up, as a consequence of her getting caught. Taking calming deep breaths to stop her mind from racing too fast and thus causing her to lose the focus she needed, she knew all she could do was wait patiently. How long had it been since he had told her that he had arrived at the scene? Minutes? Hours? She felt very unprotected all of a sudden at her knowledge that she was barely armed. She tightened her hold on the cold metal of the nine mil that she had grasped from the belt of the young man she had taken down earlier. Her hands still hurt from the contact with his firm jawline. She had four bullets, no more. If she needed more than those, there wouldn't be any.

"Jo? We've taken in the three guys you described and found the young girl."

A small sigh of relief escaped Jo's lips as she heard Mac's voice. Soon, she would see him. For one reason or another, she knew that she would feel a lot safer when he was there with her. It was of importance to everyone that they move as quickly and as efficiently altogether.

"Alright. I am by the south side, so I will wait here for you."

"Okay. Danny and some agents are taking these perps to the precinct. Stay there and do not move. Don and I are on the way right now. Are you armed? I should have brought you a Kevlar."

"I got a gun off of the guy I knocked down, but it has only a few bullets left."

"I brought a spare with me, in case. I will hand it to you when I see you."

Jo's intestines became a little less tight as she heard this. The gun in her hand didn't really feel like it belonged there. It was weird that you could get attached to a weapon. She suspected that it was psychological and it had something to do with the unconscious knowledge that that gun had been used in the kinds of practices she didn't condone, that she was doing her best to put an end to.

Jo stayed seated against the side of the warehouse, waiting. Minutes, or for all she cared hours, continued to tick by as she waited for them. She waited and waited, until suddenly she was surprised by a loud sound. For all but two seconds, she wondered if that could be Mac and Don, but she quickly determined it couldn't be, especially when she saw the Special Forces unit move on top of the building in the direction where she had heard that sound.

"MOVE!"

Not knowing to whom in particular the voice was directing itself, Jo thought it best to pay heed to the words anyway. She lifted herself up from the dirt and ran off in the same direction as the men's thundering footsteps. As she rounded the corner, she saw the reason for the sounds immediately. The sound of metal bullets being fired filled the air, and hot casings falling upon the rooftops. She tried to discern bodies and movements in the dark, not knowing how she could help, when she heard a loud scream from a man and more bullets being fired.

Jo turned back on her heel and began to run off in the opposite direction, the gun tightly in her hand as she made her way back towards the south side and louder sounds. She felt like she was running, running, running, towards the unknown, through the wide-open door in the hallway she had seen earlier when Lizarro slipped inside. She didn't look at what she was passing at all, tunnel vision completely overtaking as she ran towards the commotion.

Suddenly, she stopped, raising her gun when she saw a dark figure in a wrestling match with a strangely familiar face: Mac. Recoil spread through her right hand as she fired a bullet in the figure's lower leg, barely missing Mac's foot. A lot of people forgot how difficult it was to aim on the fly. This recoil was worse than her gun's, too.

The hooded man buckled over as the bullet landed in his lower leg, and a Special Forces agent that she had not seen before ── she assumed he must have run to the sounds of her shots immediately from wherever he had been ── took the chance to take him down. Mac turned back to look for the shooter, a small smile barely lifting the corner of the Lieutenant's mouth, already disappearing before it blossomed.

Jo didn't have a chance to look back when both Mac and she heard the very distinct sounds of a gun being shot nearby and hitting what sounded like a window. She heard his scream of warning as she already felt herself get blasted backwards by the impact of another shot, which didn't miss this time; she was right in the perp's direct line of sight. The sound of shattering glass rang loudly in her ears. She felt the air leave her lungs as she made contact with the cold concrete floor underneath her. Her eyes filled up with tears, and she felt her heartbeat pound in her temples, as darkness tried overtaking her vision.

"Jo!"

"Mac…" she murmured, as the man sank down beside her, not even having seen him approach at all. "I'll be okay. Don't worry."

She could see him look her over quickly, seemingly attempting to assess the damage to decide what he had to do. She couldn't be alone. That's when Mac's eyes fell on the Special Forces agent from earlier who had apparently decided to return to them after, assumedly, having turned over the man Jo had shot to one of his colleagues somewhere. It was only when she told him that he could go, too, that he squeezed her shoulder and got up. "I'll be back," he said, making for the door that would take him back in open air and into the line of fire. "Take care of her!"