They'd been stripped out of their overcoats, suit jackets, guns and ammo and led past the small living room adorned with a well-used fabric couch, the foam interior showing on the corners and seat cushions.
A few handmade shelving units displayed scenic pictures and tools of a long-gone era, misleading unsuspecting visitors of the dark secrets hiding within.
Steve flinched when Cassidy put the handcuffs on extra tight, leaning forward to chuckle in his ear, his beer-laden breath filling the air surrounding both men.
"You thought we'd make it that easy, kid, didn't you? Well you thought wrong."
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Davis put the cuffs on Mike, the two of them exchanging insults beneath hushed words he couldn't understand from his position.
So far, it seemed that Cassidy's group was a split down the middle when it came to the criminal mind.
Two gleeful cops thinking they were getting away with murder, or at least planning it as of now; but then he'd caught the other two, Sawyer and Mahoney, exchanging worried glances, wondering if their capture was driving them too far beyond the edge of illegal activity.
Unfortunately, from a purely criminal perspective, the group had only one good option to rid themselves of unwelcome witnesses at this point…
With Cassidy standing uncomfortably close behind him, so close that he could feel the other man's body heat through his thin mandarin dress shirt, Steve tensed up, a move that wasn't lost on the MP detective who used the opportunity to run the back of his fingers down his cheek.
"What is it, kid? You don't like getting close to somebody else?"
Knowing that he was defenseless but not caring either way, Steve jerked his head backwards far enough that it collided with Cassidy's nose, causing the other man to lose his grasp on him and yelp in pain.
Using the opportunity, he charged toward Sawyer who wasn't prepared for the attack, kicking the African American fire fighter square in the chest, causing him to tumble backwards over a small side table by the couch.
Somewhere in the back, he heard Mike scream warnings at him, trying to help him fight a losing battle that served as a welcome distraction more than anything.
With Mahoney and Davis coming up from behind, Steve rushed toward the backroom of the cabin, where a partially ajar door gave sight of an assortment of rifles stacked against the wall. Even if he was unable to shoot one himself considering his current predicament; at least he could try to break a few of them on his eventful journey through this tiny place.
Kicking the door wide open with his right foot, Steve stumbled for a second, then charged toward the rifles when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
The sight was startling enough that it allowed Davis and Mahoney to catch up with him, tackling him to the ground, long before his mind ever realized what his eyes couldn't.