"You don't know how big of a mistake you are making!", Mike threatened again, his fedora askew from fighting the strong hands pushing him along and away from the pond; away from his partner who was effectively drowning with no help in sight.
Maybe, he told himself, maybe there'd be time for him to come back to and fight his way out of the murky water, but realistically, it took only a few precious moments, a handful of breaths underwater to drown, especially when unconscious.
With his anger and frustration rising to new levels, Mike jerked his elbows once again, this time managing to drive it into the ribs of one of his captivators, causing him to curse and moan, as they came to a temporary halt.
The move raised both Mears's and Morris's attention, who had been walking ahead, as if to debate about the right spot to kill him at.
"You know, there comes a point where you have to accept defeat, Stone.", the Captain said in obvious annoyance and walked up to them, his lower lip twitching slightly, "Your partner is dead. You will be dead shortly. End of story."
Then, without a warning, he served a powerful punch into Mike's gut, so hard that it made him collapse to his knees.
His restrained right hand automatically twitched, reaching for the .38 on his belt that he had long been stripped off, cursing himself once again for walking into the carefully crafted trap, following the notion of finding evidence to indict Morris like a carrot on a stick while trusting Mears's words when they should have held off and waited, just like Olsen had cautioned.
Fighting the bile rushing up his throat, a combination of pain and panic, he swallowed hard, trying to breathe through the nausea and not grant Morris the victory of seeing him vomit.
Unforgiving arms jerked him back up on his feet, forcing him eye to eye with the Homicide Captain, who, for the time being was enjoying the upper hand.
"Defeat? Never. I won't give you that gratification, Ethan. Like I said, you may have killed my partner and you can kill me, but you won't escape prosecution, not this time around, no siree. We've got you and your buddy over there nailed against the wall. It's over."
An insecure smile was his only response this time, the reaction a surprise after the colorful slew of expressions he had used to curse the man earlier.
Turning around on his heels, Morris continued on his stiff pace, motioning for his men to follow along.
And yet, strangely enough, nothing else was said.