straight into the bulbous mass that was Bobby Joe's left buttock. Mick dropped Joe Bob, plucking the pistol from his still-twitching hand as he fell, and launched a flying tackle into Bobby Joe's back, slamming the larger man to the floor and grabbing the gun from his hand. Mick sprang to his feet. Bobby Joe reached back, pressed the emptied hand to his bleeding butt, and pig-squealed, "Sheeeeeeeee-it!"
Loneshark pocketed the pistols in his Hollywood uniform coat and rushed to Jasmine. She buried her face in his chest. He gently enclosed her in his protective arms. "You were brave, Kid," Mick stated firmly. Jasmine raised her eyes to his; Mick ever so slowly lowered his lips toward hers.
Dweeb crashed through the control room door and looked at the large monitor the moment Mick's and Jasmine's lips met. Dorky collapsed into a chair, releasing a low, mournful sob. Brad tightly clenched his teeth and turned away, looking as though his face was going to explode from the pressure of contained laughter.
But the rest of the watching world was cheering. None cheered more tumultuously than Loneshark's former partner and fellow detectives in the Chicago squad room.
