XVI

"Tracy? Why is Detective Peck not picking up his phone? I've tried calling him", Andy ranted, voice raised. She felt Sam's warm hand on hers, trying to anchor her. It did help to contain the panic to a slightly less overwhelming level.

"There is a hostage crisis over here", Tracy answered calmly, "Steve is busy. He's negotiating with the subject. We think he's making progress."

"No!", Andy shouted, earning a concerned look from Sam. "Look, Tracy, we have O'Sullivan in custody and..."

"What? How did that happen?"

"It doesn't matter!", Andy screamed, losing her temper. Ever since Sam had gone missing over 24 hours ago, she didn't seem to be able to catch her breath. A part of her was sorry that Tracy got the bad end of her fury, albeit a small part of her. The rest was still frantically trying to pick up the pieces and stop anyone else from dying.

"Shut up and listen. O'Sullivan indicated that the robbery was a ruse and a trap set for Detective Peck. It's Boyden who took the hostages. He means to kill Peck. You got that? Do not let Detective Steve Peck anywhere near the damn building! What do you mean too late for that?"

Seconds later, Andy hung up the phone, shoulders slumped in defeat. "He's already in the building, he's trying to talk Boyden down. It won't work, Sam, and there's nothing we can do", she said tonelessly. Her heart was still racing, chasing after the happy ending that now seemed so far out of reach. Out of breath, she leaned against Sam's clammy chest, surprised by his calmness.

"Maybe. Maybe not", Sam answered, thoughfully eyeing the phone. "Time for Plan B."

XVII

Detective Peck was staring down the barrell of a gun and wondered whether this were his last moments on earth. He hadn't even said any goodbyes.

"Are you going to shoot me now?", Steve asked honestly, his voice shaking as much as the weapon in front of his face. The youthful criminal opposite him was sweating and shivering badly, probably due to the adrenaline and the immense stress of the situation. The question most likely didn't help ease that stress either.

"I... I have to!", Boyden screamed. His grip on the gun was unstable, yet Steve did not dare move to take it from him. He was too close. If the weapon went off during the struggle, he would no doubt be hit. Hence, talking was the only option.

"No, you do not have to. In fact, I want you to think about what you're doing very carefully. You don't have to do this."

"That's where you're wrong." Boyden's voice was lower now. Sadly, he didn't seem to be deescalating, instead finding his... resolve? Steve swallowed nervously.

"I'm sorry", Boyden said. Steve saw his finger move on the trigger. He closed his eyes. In his pocket, his phone started ringing.

Both Boyden and Steve jumped. "What is this?!"

"My phone, apparently", Steve said drily. Carefully, making his moves obvious and slow, he pulled it out. Surprisingly, Boyden let him.

"Hello? You are on speaker."

"Hi Steve, it's Sam!", a decidedly chipper voice declared. Boyden seemed shocked, whereas Detective Peck thanked all heavens for Detective Swarek's good timing. "Hey Sam", he rasped. Only now that he was speaking to his colleague, it hit him that he could have been dead moments ago.

"Is Boyden around?", Sam wanted to know. Seeing the young man's sceptical expression, Steve hoped that Detective Swarek knew what he was doing by addressing the criminal. Feigning nonchalance when the criminal stayed silent, Steve answered. "Yeah, he's right here."

"Good." The phone beeped and for a second, Steve thought Sam had disconnected. He hadn't, though. He'd send a picture. A picture of O'Sullivan in a hospital room. There was blood on the floor and blood on O'Sullivan's clothes. Most importantly, the blond kingpin was in handcuffs.

"That's... that's a fake!", Boyden shouted and pushed the gun up Steve's neck. Then he grabbed the phone, eyes wide.

"It's real. Look at the time. It's been taken only a moment ago", Sam assured the kid. Steve's brain had been working overtime, now he carefully leaned back from the gun, allowing him to look Boyden in the eyes. "It's over, son. Whatever O'Sullivan had planned for you, it's not going to happen. You need to make your own choices from now on."

His words hit home. Steve could see it in the way Boyden's body relaxed a little and in the insecurity that now shone from his eyes. After all, he was just a kid. "Give me the gun, son."

"No! You can't have it! I won't go to prison! I still have the hostages!" He sounded desperate. Poor fellow. However, after nearly being killed by the distraught youth, Steve's sympathy had its limits. He shook his head in a placating manner. "We can't let you go, no matter what happens next. You will go to prison, the only question is for how long and what for. Killing a police officer will result in a life sentence. Taking hostages? You haven't hurt any of us yet. You'll be out in no time."

"I don't want to go to prison. I never wanted any of this", Boyden admitted, quieter. His hands slowly fell to his sides. "I'm sorry."

"It's gonna be okay", Steve said and took the weapon away from the kid.

XVIII

Boyden was convicted a fortnight after Sam was released from hospital. They received the news while they were having a little barbeque in Tracy's backyard. Boyden would go to prison for four years.

"He deserved more than that", Andy said grimly. Even after Sam's recovery, she kept close to him. Right now, she was thoroughly enjoying herself on his lap, a beer bottle in hand. She could feel Sam's warm laugh rumbling in his stomach. "A bit vengeful, are we?"

"He's been manipulated by O'Sullivan", Steve added thoughtfully, "Perhaps the judge could have been more lenient."

"He tried to kill you!", Gail interjected, siding with Andy on the matter. For a while, they argued, all the while keeping the banter light.

"At least O'Sullivan got what he deserved. Thirty years with no chance for early parol", Dove summarized. "Whereas Frankie got away. Strange world."

"Hopefully he'll stay away", Andy grumbled.

"I don't think that's the last we saw of him", Sam said, disagreeing mildly, "But for now he's gone and that's fine with me. The city sure is safer without the likes of him. To friendship and saving lives!" He raised his glas to his friends, smiling in the sunset of the warm Saturday evening.

"To friendship!" They all echoed.

A/N: This is it. Finally! I know it's been a long time, please don't kill me! ;D For all of you, who waited and for all the new readers: Thank you so much for reading!

Did you like it? Any criticism? Leave some feedback down below. It would make my day! :)