Mike let out a shuddered breath, flinching violently when the doctor used a cold iodine-soaked cotton ball to drench his chest in disinfectant. With his hand and feet tied in place, and a needle stuck in the side of his neck similar to what his partner had endured, he was forced to lie perfectly still.
Watching the proceedings with agonizing dread, he couldn't help but wonder how many people suffered the very same fate before him. And sadly, how many more would in the future, if the doctor managed to escape law enforcement.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he let his mind wander back to his partner and best friend, his heart aching at the fact that they would both end up dying in a case they were so close to solving. It would have been a prime example of excellent detective work despite lack of evidence, and the importance of following ones gut instinct.
And yet, in the end, it would cost them their lives.
Despite the grief weighing down his senses, Mike forced himself to treasure the fact that they at least spent one last Christmas together.
The very thought caused another sting in his heart.
Jeanie.
She'd be getting off the bus sometime today, completely oblivious to the developments in their case. Once his body was found, she'd receive the haunting message from Condon per his pre-arranged requests, in case of a death in the line of duty. Lenny would be summoned to the DeHaro house to help comfort his daughter in her time of grief. Without Steve around, it would fall into Hassejian's hands to help organize the funeral. He'd already picked the verses and hymns with Father Michael, who'd hold the sermon.
And perhaps, by the time this whole fiasco would be over with, Jeanie would find a small measure of peace in the fact that Mike died trying to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
For him, herein laid the greatest honor of all.
"It's time to put you to sleep."
The doctor almost sounded compassionate when he said those words, and Mike could see the outline of a smile beneath his surgical mask.
Pursing his lips, Mike looked back up at the OR lamps, enthralled by their blinding light, before closing his eyes.
Next to him, the EKG machine fell into a quiet and slow rhythm.
