Mike had been shivering for a while. Not from the cold, but for once, he was shivering from fear.
The long silence after Steve had left the bedroom behind had bothered him greatly, the situation made worse by the noise of the approaching Fairlane.
While he still worked the locks on his handcuffs diligently; Mike's fingers had started to shake too much for the precise maneuver needed to open them. As his eyes continued to drift from the task at hand to the bedroom door, fearing who exactly might come through, it was a loud commotion followed by two shots fired in rapid succession that scared him the most.
Steve never fired a gun like that.
If cornered, the young Inspector was trained enough to only require one shot. So, what had caused the second shot? Had he, in turn, been ambushed and shot? It was a thought that made the blood in his veins freeze.
With his heart hammering in his chest, Mike proceeded to shove the hairpin into the locking mechanism, his left hand having grown cold and numb from the strain against the chains holding him in place. His back was throbbing, threatening to give out against the uncomfortable position he'd put himself in trying to get better lighting.
Outside, the sound of the Fairlane's engine departing again only added to his confusion, causing Mike to fight against the frustration building up from his inability to maneuver the locks like his partner did.
Then, completely unexpected, a third shot rang out, causing him to flinch so hard that he lost his grasp on the hairpin altogether.
Realizing that depending on the scenario, his time had either ran out, or help would be here in a few seconds, Mike straightened his back out, and anxiously listened to the footfalls heading for his direction.