His .38 held barrel up in front of his face, Steve slowed as he got closer to the pier. He tried to move as quickly and quietly as he could, straining to hear anything that would give him some indication of what had gone on and might still be going on in the trawler cabin. He thought he could hear low moaning.
"Bobby!" he yelled.
"Steve, get in here!" Cox called back, the tension evident in his voice.
Hustling to the boat as quickly as he could, Steve jumped down onto the deck and approached the small cabin. The first thing he saw when he stepped through the open door was the Duster driver lying facedown, unmoving, on the floor in a large pool of blood. Danny also lying on the floor on his belly, but his hands were cuffed behind his back and he was definitely alive and seemingly unhurt.
Satisfied that both were subdued, Steve looked behind the cabin door. Cox was kneeling beside Harrison, who was sitting up against the cabin wall. Harrison's eyes were closed, his sweat-streaked face contorted in a grimace of pain. He had both hands pressed against his belly, blood seeping between his fingers. Cox had his right hand over Harrison's in what seemed to be a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.
"Oh god," almost silently escaped Steve's lips as he knelt beside his colleagues. He looked at Cox. "What do you need me to do?"
In the distance, they could hear the faint wail of an approaching ambulance. "I want you to get out of here," Cox said, gesturing with his head towards the door Steve had just come through.
"What?" The homicide inspector was confused. "What are you talking about?"
""Leave," Harrison managed to get out through the pain, gasping at the effort.
Cox glanced at his partner then back at Steve. "Get your ass out of here now, before the ambulance gets here. You're not supposed to be here. Go!"
Steve hesitated for a second, began to stand, then stopped. "No, I can't, you need –"
"We need you to get outa here," Harrison gasped again.
Steve slowly got to his feet, unsure of what to do. "Listen, ah, there's a guy tied up in the parking lot. I think he was coming to off these two. I got the drop on him. He's unconscious and has a leg wound."
Cox nodded quickly. "We'll figure out something. You don't know anything about him, okay? Now get out of here!"
They could hear the ambulance getting closer; it sounded like it was coming into the marina.
With a nod, Steve holstered his .38 and turned, moving quickly to the prow of the boat and jumping onto the pier. He could see the lights of the ambulance as it sped across the gravel parking lot. He wanted to direct it towards the boat but knew he couldn't. He ran down the pier as unobtrusively as he could, reaching the parked vehicles, then slipped between a station wagon and a large van, moving away from the trawler.
He heard the ambulance slow to a stop and the siren snap off. "Over here!" he heard Cox yell and the ambulance started to roll again.
Holding his breath, hoping the assembled by-standers were paying more attention to the ambulance and the trawler than to him, Steve wove his way past the cars and trucks towards the small parking lot at the southern entrance to the marina. He could hear more sirens in the distance.
The ache in his chest was making itself felt again, and he wrapped his left arm around his ribs as he fished for the car keys with his right hand. He glanced over his shoulder; the ambulance attendants were getting out, one of them removing the gurney as the other hurried onto the boat with a black bag in his hand.
With a satisfied nod, Steve approached the LTD. He had just closed the door and inserted the key in the ignition when a Sausilito PD cruiser raced into the marina, lights and sirens. It screamed past the unmarked SFPD car towards the ambulance.
Starting the LTD but leaving the lights off, Steve threw the large sedan into reverse, spun it so it was facing the exit and took off before the local cop car slid to stop. He drove carefully to avoid undue attention then, when he was out of sight of the marina, turned on the lights and sped up.
He was shaking, from physical discomfort and pure adrenaline. He knew Cox and Harrison were right, that he had to make himself scarce for a number of reasons, not the least of which was jurisdictional. They had reason, and authorization, to be there; he did not, and his presence could be a legal nightmare.
But he was worried about Harrison.
He was driving the speed limit along Alexander Avenue, knowing there was a chance he would be passing another responding cop car. His heart was still pounding with worry and anger as he tried to figure out what he wanted, and needed, to do next.
Suddenly making up his mind, he swung the LTD to the shoulder near the turn for Bunker Avenue and turned it off. He snapped on the dome light and glanced at his watch. 7:41. He shook his head, astounded that it was still that early. The sun had gone down and it was cold enough to keep the windows up, but he thought for sure it must have been closer to midnight.
So much had happened in such a short expanse of time.
He turned the dome light off and hunkered down on the front seat to wait.
# # # # #
Less than ten minutes later the sound of a siren, approaching from behind, made him sit up a little straighter in the seat, staring into the rearview mirror. The ambulance came into view, moving quickly, lights flashing, and shot past him; he knew they were taking Harrison to The City and the trauma unit at SF General.
He closed his eyes; he wasn't a praying man but with every fibre in his body he hoped that help for Harrison had not come too late.
# # # # #
Twenty minutes later, two unmarked cars with cherries on the roofs came racing up Alexander towards the marina; he knew they were coming from San Francisco. He had seen them approaching and ducked down in the front seat, hoping the blue LTD wasn't recognized. He knew that the dark blue sedan that shot past him in the lead was the one Newman and Jenkins were using.
He watched as the two cars disappeared from sight then got out of the car and sat on the trunk, facing towards Sausilito. He figured he didn't have long to wait.
# # # # #
A little more than an hour later, the car he was anticipating finally came into view. The headlights illuminated him, still sitting on the back of the blue LTD, and the maroon Galaxie pulled off the pavement onto the dirt shoulder. The lights went out as Steve slid off the LTD and approached the driver's side window. Bobby Cox was behind the wheel.
"They've taken Cole to General," Cox said by way of greeting.
Steve nodded, bending down towards the window. "How does it look?"
Cox bobbled his head, his features creased with worry. "They think he's going to make it but…" He sighed and swallowed.
Steve nodded, glancing into the back seat where Danny Donaldson was sitting handcuffed.
"Ah, Gary and Kyle and some of the other guys are here –" Cox began.
"Yeah, they came whipping by about an hour ago," Steve filled him in. "Are they taking over?"
"Yeah. That guy you shot? They've taken him into Sausilito; his wound isn't all that serious. I told them I got the drop on him – that's what Cole and I agreed we'd say. Seems like your shot was a through-and-through so there's no bullet yet, but they might find it eventually. Then you're gonna have some explaining to do, but for now…"
"What about the crack on the back of his head?"
Cox smirked dryly. "Yeah, ah, that was hard to explain at first, but then I said when I shot him he fell backwards so he must have hit his head when he fell…" He shrugged and shook his head bewilderedly. "The best I could come up with so fast. But he did see you, right? So when he describes you, without the beard now so you and I don't look all that alike anymore, I don't know how we're gonna get around that one. If we're lucky, he'll keep his mouth shut – which is what he's doing right now…"
Steve nodded, mulling over all the challenges ahead of them if they wanted to keep his presence under wraps.
"Anyway, ah," Cox continued, "Gary and Kyle are going to stay here for awhile and work with the Sausilito cops, try to get an I.D. on the dead guy through his car registration. Same for the still living guy with the – Jesus Christ, did you see that gun of his? Oh yeah of course you did."
Steve nodded quickly and shrugged.
"Jeez, he was going to go all Dirty Harry on us from the looks of it. Thank god you were there." His dark eyes met the younger man's green ones, managing to convey his thanks that things hadn't turned out worse than they actually did.
Cox smiled slightly and reached for the door handle. Steve took a step back, allowing him to open the door and get out. Without a word, Cox walked around to the off-road side of the car and opened the back door, Steve on his heels.
Reaching into the back, Cox grabbed Danny's arm and pulled him from the car, propelling the younger man to the back of the car and pushing him against the fender. The bartender stared at the cop defiantly but allowed himself to be pushed around.
Cox took a step back and Steve took his place. Danny stared at him without a trace of recognition.
Steve waited several long seconds then said quietly, "You don't know who I am, do you?"
"Am I supposed to?" There was an impressive tinge of defiance in the deep voice as he sneered.
With a deep chuckle, Steve reached up and pulled the now dirty white bandage off the stitches over his right eyebrow. "Remember this?" he asked quietly.
All expression disappeared from Danny's face, and Steve grinned.
"You remember me now?" Slowly he reached into his pocket and took out his star and I.D. He opened the leather case and held it about an inch from the bartender's nose.
"You got nothin' on me," Danny said dismissively.
Steve chuckled mirthlessly as he shut the case and put it back in his pocket with a studied deliberateness. "You're right there, I don't have anything on you, but my partner does."
Danny's eyes narrowed.
"You remember my partner, I'm positive of that. His name is Mike Stone, Lieutenant Mike Stone, but you know him as Archie Richardson."
The bartender's eyes shot wide and he inhaled sharply through his nose as his head snapped back.
"He's in the hospital right now getting all those drugs you plied him with out of his system. But he's gonna be okay. I know he'd want to be standing here right now so he could, you know, let you know how he feels about you drugging him and trying to sell him to ocean pirates… in this day and age…" Steve stopped and shook his head, looking almost impressed. "I gotta admit, who woulda thought about bringing the old Shanghai'ing business back to The City? Gotta give you, or whoever thought this up, some credit… it's pretty original."
Steve took a step back and smiled. "Mike was the one who figured it out. None of us really believed him at first, but he was right… wasn't he?" He stared at Danny evenly, his face losing all emotion except a deep, seething anger. "So, ah, so this is for him… and for me."
Without a moment's hesitation, Steve drew his right fist back quickly and planted a roundhouse punch on Danny's slack, unsuspecting jaw. The taller man's head snapped back and he bent backwards over the trunk of the Galaxie. As Steve took a step back and shook his right arm, trying to shake off the pain that coursed through his hand, a chuckling Bobby Cox grabbed Danny and pushed him back into the car. As he shut the door, he grinned at Steve before jogging around the front of the Galaxie and getting back in.
Steve stood on the shoulder and watched as the unmarked car pulled back onto Alexander and headed towards San Francisco. Flexing his sore right hand, he walked slowly to the LTD and got behind the wheel.