My sincere apologies for this delay. Had some health issues and started re-watching our favorite show again, looking for some inspiration for a new story.
"I thought I told you guys to stop coming here."
The anger in the stranger's shaky voice was terrifying. Trying to keep his disposition calm and his movements predictable, Mike slowly raised his hands.
"Sir, you are confusing us. We work for San Francisco PD. I am Lieutenant Mike Stone and my partner-"
"Don't give me any more of these lies.", the man hissed before taking a step out of the shadows.
Using the opportunity to carefully turn around and face their suspect, Mike studied the man in his mid-fifties with short dark hair and the saddest brown eyes he'd seen in quite a while. Flanked by what looked to be a ten-year-old Hispanic boy, he was dressed in a worn out flannel shirt and dirty jeans.
There no doubt he was the owner.
Surprisingly, the small .22 he held was old enough to have some rust spots, though it was still amply able put a hole into somebody.
Next to him, Steve was on his knees. A teenager that looked to be the kid's brother stood behind him, proudly twisting the young Inspector's left arm behind his back, his skinny forearm wrapped around Steve's throat in a tight choke hold.
From his spot, he could hear his partner gasp for air, trying to stay still while the tense situation unfolded.
"Listen, Sir...if you wish, you can check my coat pocket for my badge. We are not here to cause you any harm.", Mike reiterated, keeping the cadence in his voice even and relaxed considering the circumstances.
The man seemed to weigh the option for a moment, but the kid behind Steve shifted uncomfortably.
"Anybody can make fake badges, Will. That means nothing."
As if to prove that he had the upper hand, he tightened the choke hold once more, causing Steve to wheeze, his eyes starting to glaze over.
Even though the young Inspector was attempting to fight the grasp, it was a futile effort. A knee in his back kept him pinned forward, while the arm around his throat pulled his head back, effectively locking him in place.
"We are Homicide Detectives, Will." Mike tried again, his attention focused at their suspect, "We are investigating the murder of a man who may have come up here a few weeks ago. I swear to you it's the truth. You can check our car; it has a police radio in it."
"I don't believe a word this guy is saying. They could be mafia, Will. Look at how they're dressed."
"We are not mafia. We are police officers, you have to believe me."
Not gracing him with an answer, Will stepped forward and searched through Mike's jacket and belt area. When he retrieved his badge and the DMV picture of Malcolm, the Lieutenant nodded towards the house.
"I can give you the direct phone number to the homicide department in San Francisco. You can call them to check our credentials."
"I say we waste them, before they waste us, Will."
Horrified, both men looked over at the teenager whose frantic eyes exuded utter terror and despair. Mike needed no psychologist's profile to see that the boy had been through hell and back, his experiences having shaped the frightened and dangerously volatile person he'd become.
Pointing at the child hidden behind Will, Mike licked his dry lips nervously before speaking.
"Is this your little brother right here, young man?", when he received no immediate response, the Lieutenant continued on, "You want to kill two police officers in front of him? Just like that? What kind of a role model are you?"
"You can't intimidate me." was the haughty response he received, "They won't put somebody like me in prison. I am not twenty-one yet."
Symbolically tightening the grasp around Steve's throat, the teenager scoffed, never even realizing that his victim had stopped fighting.
"I am going to tell you something right now, young man, and you better listen well…", Mike countered with his finger pointed at him and took a step forward, "If you hurt my partner in any way…if he doesn't regain consciousness from this chokehold of yours…or if he doesn't wake up as the same bright young man he was a minute ago…I swear to you that I will put you in prison myself."
As the Lieutenant got done delivering his threat, he could hear Will clear his throat and walk up to them.
"I believe him, Miguel. Let this one go."
"You are crazy! What if they're lying?"
"I said let him go!", Will ordered sternly and the kid released the gasp at once, before glaring at the two men standing.
Not willing to wait until anything else could be said; he spun around and ran out of the barn, his rushed footsteps disappearing along the gravel driveway toward the house.
Swallowing a sigh of relief, Mike shot forward but couldn't reach his partner in time before he collapsed onto the concrete floor.
Crouching down, he stole a glance over at Will, thankful to see the man had put his gun away. Back in the corner of an open stall, the teenager's little brother stood frozen in place, watching them intently.
"Steve!"
Carefully reaching for the side of his neck to check for a carotid pulse, he had to slow down his own breathing to stop his fingers from shaking.
"Is he okay?"
Using his free hand to gently tap the side of Steve's face, Mike saw Will kneel down across from him, offering his help.
"Steve."
The few seconds of coaxing seemed to help, as he watched his partner begin to stir. Releasing a fiercely held breath, Mike felt Steve's cold hand reach up and cover his own reassuringly.
"That's it. Nice and easy. Just keep on breathing."
He waited for the watery green eyes to open again, before switching his attention back to Will, a dissatisfied frown covering his face.
"Is this your standard procedure around here?! Using a…a child to execute unprovoked attacks against law enforcement?"
"I am sorry, we were just afraid.", the man muttered apologetically, a look of utter horror on his face as he handed Mike's credentials back.
Next to him, Steve carefully sat up and steadied himself on his elbows, before shaking his head in a daze, visibly struggling to understand what had happend.
"What in the world was that?", he said in a hoarse voice before a coughing spell stopped him.
"Martial arts.", Wills answered matter-of-factly as he reached forward to help keep the young Inspector upright, "I am so very sorry. You have no idea what we have been dealing with on this ranch lately. Miguel has made it a personal mission to keep us safe."
When Mike was reasonably convinced that his partner was ready to stand, he carefully helped pull him back on his feet, before pushing him against a nearby stall wall for support.
Under the dim light from a dusty lamp up above, the Lieutenant checked Steve's bloodshot eyes and was satisfied when he saw his pupils return back to normal size.
"Are you sure you're okay?", he asked and received a slow nod in return, watching on as Steve carefully reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his badge.
"Inspector Stephen Keller, Homicide.", he coughed, a sense of mockery in the air as he showed his credentials to Will.
Mike flashed a quick smile at his partner, before returning his attention to the older man.
"I take it you are the owner?", he asked gruffly and received a nod.
"I am. My name is Will Cannon. Listen guys, I am so sorry about all this. How about we go to the house? I will get you some ice packs and aspirin, Inspector. Louis, go find Miguel and finish chores please."
Mike watched the child run out of the barn and after his high-strung brother, wondering if Glenn Malcolm chipped his tooth up here.