While Mike carefully leaned forward to radio in support, Steve did the only thing he could think of given the situation.
As smoothly as possible, he rolled the Galaxy into the sole lane between the grocery store and the parking lot, effectively blocking all traffic from passing them by, hopefully preventing innocent bystanders from getting any closer.
It put them on a 45-degree angle to the shooter, just past the door, but in a favorable shooting position in case of a standoff. This way, they could use the Galaxy as a shield and simultaneously corner their suspect behind the van.
That was, if everything were to go smoothly.
"Quick, get moving before he sees what we're doing!", came Mike's military-like command, ushering him to scoot across the front bench and exit from the passenger side, then seek for cover.
Before he even set foot on the asphalt driveway, Mike was already leaning against the roof of the tan sedan, his .38 Special pulled and aimed at the man whose head was barely sticking out from behind the cab of the light gray delivery van.
Following suit, Steve spun around, pulled his revolver and positioned himself next to his partner, knowing well enough that he didn't have a clear shot at Grabinski, no matter how good his aim was.
Several patrons inside the store had watched the commotion through the glass doors and stopped in their tracks, unwilling to exit, much to Steve's relief.
"Drop the weapon. You are surrounded.", came Mike's stern command, his blue eyes fixated on the man standing a mere hundred feet away from them; the same one who hadn't hesitated when it came to killing sixty-four people a week earlier.
Steve swallowed hard, his attention torn between their suspect and several dozen shoppers scattering throughout the parking lot, each one of them an attractive target should the situation get out of hand.
And it didn't take long.
The moment Mike identified himself, the man disappeared behind the van for the fraction of a second, only to reappear with the Ak-47 in hand, firing several dozen shots in their general direction.
Steve instinctively went down on his knees as the windows of the Galaxy exploded into a million pieces, feeling Mike's body draped across his protectively.
Like a horrifying lead rain, the scary cadence of shots lasted several long seconds, until everything went quiet again, the stillness soon disrupted by the terrified screams of patrons inside the shopping center, people who were trapped there, unable to escape without endangering their lives. And just a few feet away, with nothing but two sparsely armed detectives to fight him off, was a man intent on entering the store and cause as much bloodshed as possible.
"Can you get a shot in?"
Mike's out-of-breath voice appeared near his ear, as the Lieutenant slowly stretched back out, his shoulder leaning heavily against the backdoor of the Galaxy.
"We can't let him get near the entrance or he's going to kill everyone in his path. We gotta take him out…fast. I already radio'd in a SWAT team but they're still en route. I think our best bet is a clean shot in his direction. Do you think you can pull it off, Buddyboy?"
The earnest question was disrupted by another hail of gunfire, this time aimed in the direction of half a dozen patrol officers sprinting toward their position. Steve saw one of the officers go down, presumably shot, while the rest approached fiercely, unwilling to let the dangerous attacker stop them.
Drawing in a deep breath, he stood back up against the cab of the Galaxy, arms locked and resting on the roof, readying himself for a clean shot, gaze focused on Grabinski, squinting one eye to improve his aim.
In the end, he let out a frustrated grunt and shook his head.
"He's tucked in behind that van too well; I can't get a good shot in."
It felt like an epic failure, but it was the truth.
With an understanding nod, Mike glanced back and forth between the approaching armada and their shooter, then began to strip out of his black overcoat.
"If I…if I can get his attention somehow and get him to come out of his hideout…then could you take the shot?"
He couldn't trust the words said, unwilling to believe that his partner would as much as consider putting himself in harm's way like that in order to cause a distraction.
"What…what do you mean?", Steve asked incredulously, as Mike waited for a moment of ceasefire, then gave up his protective spot behind the Galaxy, inching his way along the glass-walled atrium of the shopping center toward their shooter. With his overcoat loosely dangling off one hand, the .38 in his other, the Lieutenant seemed to be on a mission nobody but he knew anything about.
"I'll see if I can pull him out of his hideout. You've got one shot, Buddyboy. Make it count. I know you can do it."