Chapter Text
“Do you think he’ll give himself up?”
Karadec turned his head, looking at Oz over his shoulder. He had his weapon drawn, gun lowered in front of him and gripped firmly. Behind Oz stood Daphne with her own respective weapon in hand.
“If he went through all this trouble to keep himself from getting caught, I doubt he’d give up now,” Karadec responded, adjusting his kevlar vest.
Major Crimes had been following a serial killer for a while now, but somehow they’d always been a few steps behind, even with Morgan’s help. But thanks to Morgan, and many sleepless, coffee-fueled nights at the precinct, they were finally able to track the guy down to an old, abandoned warehouse far from the depths of the city.
It would’ve been a fully organized operation if a life wasn’t at risk. Aside from the fact that they had three bodies already in the morgue, a fourth person was reported missing who matched the killer’s type. It was a race against time before the woman was added to their list of the dead. The lack of backup put an uneasy feeling in Karadec’s stomach, but he tried to put that feeling aside and focus on the mission at hand.
The three of them made it to the warehouse first, taking Karadec’s car and not stopping until they got there. Soto had called and said backup was on the way, but it’s been quiet for a while now and the familiar noise of sirens hadn’t pierced the silence. The sun had long set, and the air around them was unsettling still. Karadec, Oz, and Daphne stood at the back of the warehouse, waiting to enter. But the longer they waited the more likely it was that the woman would be killed and the murderer would get away, and Karadec just couldn’t risk it.
“We’re going to go in,” he whispered, taking his gun out of his holster. Daphne and Oz exchanged quick, nervous glances. He couldn’t blame them, he wasn’t entirely sure of it himself. But they had to make a decision, and in a time sensitive situation such as this, it was the best decision they could make.
“Aren’t we waiting for backup?” Daphne asked. Karadec shook his head.
“There’s no time. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but we have to. There’s a life at stake.”
“Are you sure?”
Karadec turned to look at Oz. Even in the dark, he could see the hesitance and fear in his eyes. He couldn’t blame him, if Karadec had to be honest he was scared himself. It was a big risk, a stupid one at that even. Even Daphne looked worried, gripping her weapon tight. They were all well trained officers, but without knowing what they’re walking into, that didn’t matter one bit. There was a theory that the killer had multiple accomplices, but no solid evidence was ever found to confirm that. If there actually were, now would be the time to find out.
“I’m sure. We’ll go in and go out,” he reassured him. “If the guy, or anyone, tries to run, backup will be here by the time they do.”
Oz took a deep breath and nodded. Karadec looked over at Daphne, who also gave him a nod. He looked down at the rusty door handle, and wrapped his hand around it.
“Alright. We’ll go in together, but once we get inside we’ll need to split up and check different areas. We go fast, we go quiet. Don’t engage with anybody if you don’t have to. Our goal is to find our missing woman. Got it?” Karadec explained, looking both his detectives in the eyes, lingering on Oz for just a moment longer. They both nod again.
With a deep breath, Karadec slowly opened the door.
The warehouse was full of tall shelves, filled to the brim with metal scraps and other miscellaneous junk. Where there weren’t shelves, large boxes and containers lined the walls, crafting some sort of messed up maze. Dust caked every surface. From a large hole in the ceiling, moonlight spilled down to light up parts of the large room. Even then, it was still too dark to properly see.
Taking out their flashlights, the three slowly walked in, pausing at the first intersection of shelves.
“I’ll take this one,” Daphne whispered. She disappeared behind walls of boxes and her footsteps slowly faded away. The other two continued on, walking side by side as carefully and quietly as possible. The silence was unnerving, and sweat began to bead up on the back of Karadec’s neck. Everything towered above them and was packed so tightly that it was impossible to see through anything. It really was a maze, and their killer was waiting for them at the end of it.
It was only a moment before they found another intersection, this time breaking off into two different directions.
“I guess this is where we split up,” Karadec said.
“See you on the other side,” Oz replied, flashing a grin before going down one of the aisles.
Karadec walked forward, holding his gun and flashlight in front of him, carefully looking at everything in his surroundings. It reminded him of one of those corn mazes, how the only sound you ever hear is your own footsteps, the wind whistling around you and whispering things in your ears. Karadec turned left and right so many times he began to wonder if he was actually lost. Suddenly, up ahead, at the far end of the aisle, what looked like a large, open area came into view. He slowed his pace, listening out for any indication of activity. Again, nothing.
But that silence didn’t stay for very long, as the sound of two pairs of shoes tapping against the smooth flooring echoed throughout the entire building.
“Police! Drop your weapon! Hey, I said drop it!”
Oz’s voice rang out, and the mention of a weapon was the first thing that made Karadec’s stomach drop. The second thing was much, much worse, and sent a cold, violent chill through his body.
A gunshot. Then a second one. And then a third.
Something clattered against the floor, and the sound of a body hit the ground with an agonizing thud.
Karadec was running before he had time to think, and he found himself in the center of the room, completely out in the open. At the far end of the room, the silhouette of a man in black stood with a gun half raised, smoke rising from the end of the barrel. At the sight of Karadec, he bolted towards a side door.
“Hey! Stop!” Karadec yelled, holding up his weapon and firing twice. Both bullets ricocheted off the walls, missing the target. He was out the door before Karadec could fire another shot. From one of the aisles, Daphne came running in, gun raised and pointed at Karadec before she realized he wasn’t the guy they were looking for.
“Out the door,” Karadec said, and she nodded. She ran towards that direction, and when she exited the building, he could hear sirens in the distance. Their backup had finally arrived.
Of course, something was dreadfully wrong. Karadec hadn’t looked away from the door, aside from a quick glance at Daphne when she came out. The killer had run away in seemingly perfect health, with no indication of being shot even once. But a gun had gone off, of that Karadec was certain, and something had fallen to the ground. Or… somebody. Oz.
He saw it on the floor before he found him. Smudges and smears of dark, red blood across the floor, gleaming underneath the moonlight. Off to the side, discarded, a gun. Next to it, a flashlight, part of it broken from the fall. Karadec, with shaking hands, put his gun back into his holster and with slow, fragile steps, made his way closer. With each step, more blood covered the floor, and his shoes left prints on the ground. There was just so. Much. Blood.
He wasn’t moving. Blood was still flowing, but Oz wasn’t moving. Karadec dropped to his knees and grabbed Oz by the shoulders, moving his hands up to his neck to feel for a pulse. An awful, gargled breath confirmed that Oz was alive before Karadec could find his artery. Blood poured out of his mouth, covering all of Karadec’s hands.
“Dammit, Oz?” he asked, holding his face up. His eyes fluttered open, and Karadec could see it. That fear from before. But this time, it was burning a hole into his chest. The man in his arms was terrified. “Oz!”
“Adam?” he choked out, trying to sit up but failing horribly. Karadec pulled Oz up, wrapping one arm around him and his other hand wandering, trying to find the source of the blood. He moved how he was sitting so that Oz could lay somewhat comfortably in his lap. His entire shirt was drenched, utterly soaked, in his own blood. Any pressure Karadec tried to put on where he thought a gunshot wound was just made it worse, pushing out what felt like gallons of more blood out onto the floor. He was losing so much in such a short amount of time, and they were drowning in it.
He needed to grab his phone, call an ambulance, call Daphne, Soto, anybody. But his hands were currently occupied in saving a life at the moment.
“Hey!” Karadec called out. “HEY! We have an officer down! We need medical assistance!
His words echoed throughout the warehouse, but nobody responded. They were too far away from anyone for them to hear. Dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT!
“Adam?”
Karadec looked back down at the man in his arms. He had one hand up gripping Karadec’s forearm, tightly holding his shirt like he was scared to let go. His face was terribly pale, sweat beading up and dripping down his forehead. His eyes darted all around, but always returned to looking up at Karadec with that same terrified expression.
“Yeah, yeah I’m right here.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“I dunno,” Oz replied with a pained laugh. “Kinda feels like it.”
“Backup’s here. They’re going to figure out we’re not out there and they’ll come looking for us, okay? They’ll find us and everything is going to be okay.” It felt like Karadec was watching himself talk, like nothing was even real. His stomach churned and his body shook, but not even as badly as Oz was. The blood flow had slowed down, but he had lost so much that Karadec was worried that if they didn’t get help now… he had to keep himself from going there. He couldn’t go there, not now. Not when Oz needed him. Shit, there was so much blood. It was all over them, like a second skin.
Oz nodded at him like he was listening, but his eyelids were fluttering shut again.
“Lev?”
“Mhm, yeah, hi. I’m here.”
“Stay with me, okay?” The pleading leaked into his voice, and Karadec held him tighter. He was cold, or maybe it was just cold in the warehouse. The trembling hadn’t stopped, and Oz was still sweating buckets.
He shouldn’t have made them split up. It was stupid idea. Every decision he made was so, so stupid . If he had just waited for backup to arrive, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. It was all his fault. And now he had to carry the burden of consequence, blood and all.
“It’s going to be okay, Lev,” he repeated, cupping his face in his hand, trying to keep him awake for just a little bit longer. “It’s going to be okay.”