Time seemed to stand still as Steve watched the wood shrapnel from the old white door frame explode into a million pieces. Even before they were showered with debris, he'd seen Mike flinch, just for the fraction of a second, long enough to know that his partner had been hit.

He'd instinctively jumped forward, pushing both Sandy and Gus out of the way and farther down the kitchen, while watching Mike duck behind the wall, as more shots were being fired.

"Look out! They're behind the house too!", the Lieutenant yelled urgently, causing Steve to glance out the kitchen window in time to see two armed suspects carrying shotguns, trying to force their way through the backdoor.

With three of their four attackers accounted for and encroaching on them quickly, Steve knew their only escape route was through the living room and front door. As more shots we fired and the old plaster of the compromised walls rained down on them, he threw himself onto the floor in front of the doorframe, chest down, elbows locked, before firing two rounds into the back corner of the living room, where a narrow entryway suggested their attacker's hiding spot.

Behind them, the kitchen window exploded from a point-blank shotgun blast, making both Sandy and Gus scream in terror, as glass shards covered the entire area, including its occupants. Next to him, Mike cursed, before returning fire into that direction.

Steve stayed low to the ground, feeling the rapid heartbeat in his chest throbbing against the cold vinyl flooring below, eyes intently focused on the back of the living room, waiting for their shooter. His patience was rewarded quickly, when he saw the barrel of a shotgun reappear around the doorframe, its owner cocking the fore-end to enter another bullet into the chamber.

As soon as the man's upper body came into view, Steve aimed his .38 at his center mass and fired, hitting the fifty-something burly man right in the heart. As he collapsed backward, the continuous rumbling and thumping suggested that he was falling down a stairwell, likely where the third hidden door was located.

"Mike, I've got the front cleared.", he yelled and got back on his feet, only to feel his partner push him shoulder first into the living room.

"You take the lead. I'll cover us. Sandy, Gus, go follow Steve!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw both of them get off the floor and head for his position, while Mike approached the kitchen window, the white in his eyes showing when he noticed that Steve was frozen in place.

"MOVE!", came his firm order and the young Inspector nodded quickly, before stepping into the open of the living room, his gun trained at the corner where their shooter had been located, while he used his left hand to move the metal bar locking the front door out of the way.

Hearing both Sandy's and Gus's rapid breaths behind him, Steve was beginning to feel his hand shake violently, as he tried to undo the dead bolt.

"Come on…come on…come on!", he cursed, when he finally managed to flip the lever and pull the door open.

By now he'd expected Mike to be right behind them, but a quick glance revealed the opposite. Still tied up in a shootout in the kitchen, the Lieutenant was pinned in place.

Knowing that leaving his partner behind was out of the question, Steve turned to the two young adults by his side, their pleading eyes tearing on his heartstrings.

"You guys see that wooden gate straight ahead? It's almost hidden by the fog but you can see the beams…"

Gesturing out the open door, he waited until they both nodded.

"Run through there, then take a left. That's where the car Mike was talking about is hiding. Quick, get moving!"

Watching them rush out the door and down the front porch, before running across the yard, felt like an eternity, as Steve kept his ears tuned to what was happening back in the kitchen. And judging by the repeated shotgun blasts tearing through the silence, odds weren't in their favor.

When he was reasonably certain that nobody would stop their victim's escape, Steve headed back into the kitchen, only to see his partner pinned into the back corner and keeping a keen eye on the window over the sink.

"Mike!", he called out urgently, preparing himself to support him, when the Lieutenant glanced up, the blue eyes under his fedora suddenly full of anger.

"What are you still doing here?!"

"I believe it's called backup!", Steve yelled in return and caught sight of one of their suspects outside the back of farm house. Raising his .38 and knowing that ammo was getting sparse, he fired once, hitting the man in the shoulder.

"I told you to watch the kids. Get out of here and make sure they're clear. That's an order, Inspector!"

The fury and impatience in Mike's voice startled his senses and Steve couldn't help but look back over at the Lieutenant, who was busy reloading his revolver.

When Mike noticed the extra set of eyes on him, he froze in his spot, before his expression turned cold.

"I gave you an order, Inspector. MOVE!"

"Yes, Sir."

Steve had said that more to appease Mike, than out of obedience. Biting his lip, the young Inspector was torn between his duty and his devotion to his best friend and mentor. In the end it was the gunfire targeting his location that made him back up.

Running through the living room and out the front door once again, he was relieved to see that both of their witnesses were far enough out that the fog began to encapsulate them. Staying on the front porch but crouching down to give himself some cover, Steve took over the role as a guardian, ensuring that their precious cargo would make it to their rendezvous point, and praying that both Roy and Andy had been wise enough to disregard Mike's order to flee as soon as gunfire erupted.

A few seconds after Sandy and Gus disappeared out of sight, he saw the faint red hue of taillights appear in the driveway, before the fog swallowed it. The loud engine of the departing Fairlane signaled a partial success on their end.

Now came the hard work.

Taking a moment to reload his .38, Steve slid back up the siding next to the door, cuing his senses to his surroundings.

All gunfire had ceased a few seconds ago, making him wonder if Mike had reached some sort of standstill.

Slowly reentering the farmhouse and cursing his cowboy boots for what little noise they made against the wooden floors, Steve looked around, hoping to detect any life signs but found none. Carefully crossing the distance back to the kitchen, he held onto the handle of his revolver with a death grip, ready to go down fighting if needed.

When he could hear absolutely no sounds out of the kitchen, he slowly approached what was left of the doorframe, before carefully peeking around the corner.

Much to his surprise, Mike was no longer in his hiding spot. No traces of his partner could be found in the entire length of the kitchen floor, not even signs of struggle or blood.

Steve was about to back up, when he saw a shadow appear from the corner to his right. Before he could even react, something cold and hard hit his temple, making the world around him turn black.