Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest, the sight of his partner putting himself in harm's way making the blood freeze in his veins.
One carelessly aimed shot…that's all it would take to mortally injure his best friend behind the glass that was nothing but an imaginary barrier for somebody holding an AK-47.
And right now, the only thing keeping Grabinski from firing that shot was the commotion of additional patrol officers flooding the crowded parking lot, their movements much like tokens on a board game as they skipped from one car to the next, using them as cover to encroach on the shooter.
Along Geary, Steve sighed in relief when he saw the familiar blue baseball cap appear amongst the crowd and head toward them, mirroring the actions of those before him.
It seemed so much like a scene from a movie.
Just like Mike had said a few days prior, there was a war happening on the Streets of San Francisco, right in the heart of downtown, leaving two sparsely armed detectives to hold down the front lines in hopes of protecting countless innocent bystanders trapped inside a grocery store, their fearful stares wearing on Steve's nerves as they watching his every step.
It was perfectly clear who would win this war in the end; unfortunately, it wasn't quite so clear at what price that victory would come.
With his palms sweaty, Steve focused back on Mike and their shooter, seeing Grabinski slowly peek out from behind his hideout, the barrel of the semi-automatic weaving back and forth between the parking lot, the ailing Galaxy and the entrance of the grocery store.
Growing increasingly frustrated at his inability to get in a good shot, even if it meant a killing one, Steve shifted slightly to the right, narrowing his target area but hoping that once Grabinski would take a step toward the grocery store, he'd have ample clearance to stop him.
A few feet away, Mike suddenly made a move, tossing his fedora at the shooter in what seemed to be an effort to distract him. Then, much to Steve's horror, he gave up his questionable cover and ran across the driveway, the overcoat in his arm twirling wildly to obscure the shooter's vision of where exactly his center mass was.
The plan had been as bold as it had been completely irrational, irresponsible, downright crazy, and he watched Grabinski retreat for a moment, when the fedora bounced off the hood of the van, then take a couple hasty shots that caused nothing more than shattered windshields.
Much to Steve's relief, the Lieutenant had reached a nearby station wagon and used it for cover, the black overcoat discarded across the tall curb that was lined with brightly colored marigolds, stretching all along the front parking area of the store.
It didn't take long for the shooter to realize that they were trying to attack him on all fronts, Steve covering the entrance area, Mike slowly sneaking around the back, and an armada of SFPD patrol officers approaching to join them in the effort.
Struggling to decide how to respond to their tactic, the shooter eventually took his eyes off the young Inspector and once again opened fire at the station wagon Mike was hiding behind, hoping to eliminate the threat by emptying an entire clip on it, then reloading and shifting his focus to the general direction of the parking lot, firing several rounds, before resuming his attack on the now completely destroyed car.
Steve knew that no matter how well-built the station wagon was, eventually the metal and fabric would budge under the immense firepower of the AK-47, putting Mike in mortal peril, as the Lieutenant cowered beneath the driver's side door.
Finally, Grabinski shifted his weight slightly, hoping to get a better look at the police officers encroaching, and exposing a couple valuable inches of his body along the way.
Knowing that his best chance to intercept had come now, Steve jumped out of his hideout and slid across the hood off the Galaxy, taking a straighter route than his partner had chosen, and ran toward danger.
With his .38 ready, he fired a shot through the windshield of the van, getting rid of the glare that had been preventing him from seeing Grabinski clearly whenever he shied away during their counter-attacks.
A second shot, taken between two forced breaths, was aimed at the driver's side mirror, right where he suspected the other man's shoulder to be, judging by the red hair and beard he saw appear beneath the chassis.
Just before he reached the station wagon, Grabinski caught on to his plan and opened fire, the powerful shells making the asphalt below his feet quiver, the deafening blows disrupting his thinking, as adrenalin rushed through Steve's body, dulling his senses and subjugating any fear of death he'd harbored.
With the attacker's upper body finally exposed, the young Inspector aimed at the other man's center mass, firing two closely aimed shots in rapid succession, Grabinski returning the favor as time came to a complete standstill for several long moments.
Well aware of the life-threatening danger he'd put himself into, Steve bridged the last of the distance to his partner with a big leap, avoiding injury by sheer luck only, thankful to see the attacker collapse out of the corner of his eye.
Down below, Mike grunted in pain, as he slammed into the Lieutenant's back, sending both men crashing violently to the ground.
Steve froze in his spot for several long seconds, awaiting return fire but could hear little beyond the throbbing in his ears. Eventually, somewhere in the back, several cars away, he could make out the rushed orders from police officers circling in on their location.
With his left arm tightly wrapped around Mike's chest, his right hand still clenching the .38 in a death grip, he slowly peeked his head up enough to see Seargent Sanders approach, giving up his cover altogether as though he was convinced that Grabinski was dead.
"You can quit hugging me now, okay?", the Lieutenant grunted, pain and worry mixed into his feign crankiness.
Following the lead, Steve carefully got back on his shaky hands and knees, for the first time coming to terms of what had happened over the past few minutes that seemed to last an eternity, grateful to see Mike shift below his weight.
Smiling broadly, he watched his partner take a deep breath, before attempting to rise to his feet.
As fate would have it, the young Inspector's relief was short-lived, when he smelled copper, immediately noticing the sizeable bloodstain on the back of his best friend's light blue vest, right above his belt line.
Swallowing a horrified gasp, Steve gently placed a hand on the seasoned Lieutenant's shoulder, hoping to keep him on the ground.
"Michael, I am going to call in an ambulance. Don't move, okay? You've sprung a leak. Let me…let me make sure that Grabinski is secured and then…we're going to call in an ambulance. Hang in there, okay?"
His hectic stammering did little to keep Mike from rolling onto his side, then carefully sit up against the driver's side door of the station wagon.
As a set of worried blue eyes met his for a fleeting moment, Steve softened his features, trying to disguise the fear at his friend's injury, as he slowly got back on his wobbly feet.
Drawing in another deep, relieved breath, Mike put his special back into the holster, then managed a proud smile.
"I knew you could do it, Buddyboy…"
As the adrenalin slowly left his body, causing him to shake more than usual, the young Inspector returned the smile, then pointed his chin toward the van.
"Just…just give me a second, I'll be right back. We'll get you to the hospital in record time."