+18 - eps.33-35 - The shadow of an old foe leaves Gillian fighting for her life. And as the team hunts down the attacker, Brock and Gillian run out of time to come to terms with their feelings for each other. BONUS TRACK: episode 36 - the breakfast
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Fred traded a look with Taylor first, then with Ron. As Joey pulled from the lower corner of the frame, Ron, Russell and Hank opened fire. Taylor left his cover to approach Fred, who patted the hostage's back. The man stayed low as he ran to meet Taylor. The detective grabbed his arm and tugged from it to bring him behind another container.
"Take'im away!" Russell shouted at Taylor, as Kyle fired back.
"Keep shooting!" cried Joey, struggling to bend the frame further, so they could sneak through. "Here! Use mine, too!"
Kyle stopped shooting to grab Joey's S&W with his left hand. It didn't matter he'd never used two guns at the same time. All he had to do was keeping the G-men away until Joey could get them both out of there.
As soon as the boy looked away to take Joey's gun, Fred and Ron straightened up and shot, covering Russell and Hank to move closer to the boys and take shelter behind the last container. They had to dive head-on when Kyle swept the backyard with both guns. The worst danger now wasn't the boys aim, but his lack of it. The way he shot, most of his bullets flew straight to the walls, where some of them might bounce and get them.
Fred peeked out the edge of the container and jumped on his feet, Glock grasped with both hands and lined up with his eyes.
Kyle cried out when Fred's only bullet pierced right through his left arm, making him drop Joey's gun.
Russell sprinted to the end of the backyard, Ron and Hank on his heels, Fred two steps behind.
Kyle pressed his bleeding arm to his side, crying in pain. And crouching by Kyle's legs, Joey grabbed back his gun from the ground.
Fred took aim again, but Joey shot first, half covered behind his wounded friend's legs.
"Let'em get outta that damn yard!" snarled Banks on the radio.
"Right now it's gonna be one damn bloodshed, Bob!" Russell, replied.
Fred took cover for a moment and stepped out to take aim once more. And this time, Joey's gun got stuck when he tried to fire.
Kyle looked up at the feds coming down on them, only a few yards away. And that one pointing straight at Joey. Or maybe at Kyle himself. His heart pumped a sick mix of pain and fear and adrenaline. The men ran toward them. And the one with the ponytail back there moved his barrel down to get Joey, still leaning down. Kyle didn't think. He wasn't able anymore. He was a goner. A walking dead already. So he just pushed himself away from the wall to cover Joey. Was it half a heartbeat before the last shot? Was it after? Was it at the same time?
He'd never know.
He couldn't keep his balance with his broken leg, and he stumbled as soon as he left the wall's support.
Fred froze, eyes widening in horror when Kyle took in his back the bullet meant for Joey's arm.
The boy crumbled down, dead on the spot, and Joey cursed Kyle. Damn jerk. He could've just died on the street instead of holding him back all the while. Still cursing, he sneaked through the twisted frame of wire mesh and sprinted away from the feds. A parking lot! Great! He could see the broad exit to the street.
Fred heard the shouting, one or two gunshots, then nothing.
"We got'im!" said Aldana on the radio.
"Let us take'im in custody, Banks," said Russell, hurrying to the parking lot.
"We want'im alive and in one piece for his trial," said Ron.
"Jeez, guys. The feds did brain-wash you!" grunted Banks.
"Where's Fred?" asked Aldana.
"Back at the yard," said Hanks.
Fred felt the chill down his spine, incapable of looking away from Kyle's body, fallen on a growing pool of his own blood.
