Unspoken communication. Hutch high, Starsky low. They erupted through the door triggering the fine wire attached to the shotgun. A blast, a grunt and then blood lots of blood oozing from a chest wound as the brunet lay on the floor of the third rate apartment. Hutch checked the rest of the apartment then turned his attention to his partner.

"Starsk, open your eyes for me."

Blue eyes stained almost black with pain fluttered open. "Hutch" muttered almost as a prayer.

"I'm right here Buddy. It's alright."

A glance over his shoulder at the growing crowd. "Call an ambulance NOW."