Title: Deep Down

Chapter: Twenty?

Author: Kelly

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

The anticipation that Bosco had been feeling, that had ultimately led up to this moment in the investigation. It threatened to overwhelm him as he heard Cruz speak directly in her radio, telling all teams to standby. If they waited too long, Price may have time to detect them and do something to Faith and even though his instincts told him to move on out of there and get the job done. His emotions told him to stay put. Bosco wouldn't compromise Faith's safety with his foolish behaviour and even though he hated to admit it. He had to deter to Cruz's way of thinking, but only in this instance.

Cruz surveyed the area carefully, pressing herself flat against the side of the building she had chosen to disguise their entrance. Price's apartment was almost directly across from them. Bosco joined her side, weapon out and he was willing to use it. She lifted the radio to her mouth and said quietly into it, "Teams in place?"

"Ready to go when you are, sergeant."

One more glance around the street, to the apartment and where everyone else was supposed to be positioned. It was now or never.

"Move!"

Michael Price sat opposite his companion, Steven Benson. He was an acquaintance of sorts, they had met during his time on the street as a cop. "Stevie boy," he said as he drunk from the beer bottle, the contents running smoothly down his throat. It's bitterness causing him to grimace slightly, yet he still insisted on drinking the foul contents. "I believe we may get away with this."

Benson looked at the older man, very unconvinced. Unlike Price, Benson was young and inexperienced. The only reason Price chose to hook up with him in the first place was because he had connections. Good connections but he feared this boy might be his downfall. His inexperience was his enemy and that made him a liability. Something Price couldn't afford.

"Have a little faith," Price said, paused and just thought about what he had said. He raised the bottle to his lips and chuckled. "Oh wait, we have her buried out front." A bitter laugh passed his lips. "Guess we have all the "Faith" we need," he replied before taking a long swig of the alcohol. Benson kept looking to the door then the windows, something didn't feel right. "You said no one would get hurt."

"And they won't as long as they follow the rules," Price replied sitting back and resting his feet on the coffee table in the middle of the small living room. "If they were going to rescue Yokas or tracked us down. They would've done it by now."

"How can you be so sure?" Benson quipped.

"I was a cop remember," Price slammed the bottle down, the brown liquid fizzing over the top and running down the side of the green bottle. The foamy residue coming to a rest on the table and filling out slowly. He looked at it a moment, that was going to leave a stain. Not that he cared; soon he would have the money. All of it and he could easily buy another table. Money would never be an objection again. "Not getting cold feet are you, Stevie?"

Benson was slightly unsettled and unnerved by the manner that Price kept addressing him. "Of course not." Price sat back once more, resting comfortably and put his hands in his lap with a smug smile.

"Good, because you know if you were. I'd just have to…" He looked at the young man and smiled, yet his eyes said something otherwise. Price delved deeper and pulled out his weapon. His trusty Smith & Wesson 64 revolver, a thing of beauty to his eyes, one of the only things he managed to get out of his time with the NYPD. "Well. I'd just have to kill you."

Benson stared wide eyed and opened mouthed at the weapon, he'd seen Price get it out many times but he'd never been on the receiving end of the it. "Please…sir." He swallowed, growing more and more nervous than he already felt. It threatened to take him over and no matter what he did, he couldn't stop himself from shaking. He didn't want to die. "I help you with this and we split the profits. Fifty-fifty." Now all that nervousness was increasingly growing towards anger. What both scared and angered him most was the serious look on Price's face, the determination in his eyes and steel in his voice as he addressed him.

"We had a deal!"

Price aimed the revolver at Benson and cocked the gun, the same smug smile crossing his face as he spoke. "I'm amending it." With that, he fired.

It echoed throughout the corridor as Cruz approached the door. Out of instinct she ducked down and kept low, reaching for her radio. "Shot fired, I repeat shot fired." Bosco came along side her and waited as Cruz listened for reports. "None of our boys are there yet."

"Then perhaps he ain't shooting at them." Cruz eyed him suspiciously for a moment then ordered them to carry on with the original plan. They reached the right apartment; it would be too risky to knock on the door. It would alert him, he could do something and from the sound of it. He was armed. Cruz and Bosco exchanged a look; she wasn't as easy to read as Faith. He could speak to her without even using words.

"On the count of three," Cruz whispered quickly and breathlessly. The adrenaline coursing throughout her body. "One…two…" Cruz moved back, raising her leg. "Three," she said forcefully kicking in the door. A shot rang out and the momentum pushed her back against the wall, sliding down on impact.

Bosco didn't have time to react as Price raised the gun at him; he dived back out the way. The son of a bitch knew. He'd been waiting and he knew. "Michael Price, give yourself up," Bosco shouted glancing to Cruz. She weren't moving or making any attempt to do so. He knew she was still in Price's visual range and if she moved it seemed he wouldn't hesitate to shoot her again.

"Go to hell," came the voice.

Bosco forced himself to remain calm as backup arrived, he indicated for them to stay put. saw one take a look at Cruz then reach into his jacket. Pulling out a radio, most likely to radio for the paramedics. "We can talk this through…where's Yokas."

"Go to hell," Price shouted again. Bosco looked at Cruz; he saw some blood pooling down by her side. He had no idea of where she had been hit or how badly the injury was. He slid his gun along the floor; the metal screeching on impact as it stopped in the doorway. Bosco held up his hands and stood up, moving into the doorway and coming to face to face with Price.

"I just want to know where Faith Yokas is."