Tuesday – 1 week

CF: 509865-A

Victim: Brett Johnson; age 39

Cause of Death: GSW; AR15

Suspect: John Burke,(Phillip Stroh) armed and dangerous, proceed with caution.

Mourners went up the church steps as officers surrounded the mountain. A final tally would be six hundred. The first wave of bodies crawling up the mountain would be two hundred. They were forced to take cover immediately, while mourners fifteen minutes away took their seats in pews.

Sharon Raydor took off her sunglasses when she stepped into the church. Her hand was still in Andy's. He used his free hand to take off his own pair of glasses, tucking them in the breast pocket. Her heels echoed against the marble floor. Her breath sounded loud in her ears, catching in the stone pillars and bouncing back at her in full force. Rusty was on her right, close by, her arm no longer looped in his.

Officers who went up the mountain put spike strips along the path. The mountain is completely shut down. A call had been picked up on the tip line – a stolen vehicle was up on the mountain. Stroh stole it. There was no doubt that it was Stroh, partially because the man said he was Stroh. What happened next, no one was prepared for.

Sharon took a deep breath as the entire church turned to face the casket as it came down the aisle. The pallbearers were a mixture of officers and relatives all marching to a silent cadence. They moved slow, step-by-step, in unison. It seemed like ages – the body coming down in a flag draped casket. All the men wore gloves. That's what she noticed; the gloves. She reached out, her fingers curling into the cuff of Andy's suit. He threw her a look over his shoulder; a small smile returned to him – she was okay.

It was coming straight at them. The truck that Stroh had stolen from the couple in the small cabin that belonged to the Camp was driving well over the speed limit. The cops inside didn't know what to think when the truck stopped. A few seconds passed before the car was shifted back into drive and began driving towards the units coming up. A loud pop sounded, followed by many more. It joined in the sound of glass breaking, the windows of the unit vehicles shattering instantly. No one knew that inside the vehicle, amidst the broken glass was a father of two shot and bleeding.

Raised Catholic, Sharon prayed weekly. Her family had gone to church on Sunday's, the sermons made her think. It was talked about at dinner, arguments between siblings, points matched between her and her parents. She didn't go to church to rid herself of the evil life had brought her, but to be closer to her family. Family was everything to her. She protected them no matter what. It was how she was raised; it was how she was trained.

"Let us bow our heads and pray," the woman's voice sounded throughout the church.

As they prayed, bullets continued to fly. Stroh had escaped behind a series of trees, a small park services shack becoming his temporary place of refuge. Through a small window, aim was taken; a bullet was let out of the chamber, one in quick succession after the other. It pierced skin, shredding it to pieces. It and everything beneath it. Later, the report would read that the bullet hit an Officer, shattering it's jaw and front teeth, the bullet lodging itself in the roof of his mouth. The kneecap that was shattered and the round that pierced his left forearm and chest was nothing in comparison.

Sharon kissed Rusty on the cheek, patting him as she gave him a heartfelt smile. She turned to Andy, giving him a smile and leaned up, kissing him. He was warm, a beacon of possibility in the sight of disaster. He wrapped an arm around her, hugging her to him. He let her go in order to shake other people's hands, granting them peace. Peace, the freedom from war of violence. Freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility. As Andy stood next to Sharon, her pinky finger tapping his, the smile that blossomed on her lips, he silently prayed for quietness and tranquility to come quickly.

With an officer down in the kill zone, officers called to each other, trying to find a way in. The kill zone was an open piece of land in front of them. Behind the trees, a move left or right would put them in direct sight of their shooter. The helicopters hovered over the mountain, the caller in the pilot seat ordering things from above them. An armored truck that was called would provide cover to the thirty officers who had taken refuge behind the trees. Everyone else, whoever was behind them as back up, was safe to back off.

The same amount of care was given to the casket as it was marched down the aisle to the waiting car. Catherine and the baby on her hip were flanked by what Sharon could only assume were her brothers. Teenage girls followed behind them, wiping their eyes. Nieces, Sharon concluded. Brett had a brother; he was currently acting as a pallbearer. When it was their turn to exit the pew, Sharon made the sign of the cross, slipped her hand into Andy's and felt the heat of her son next to her. It was a small piece of comfort.

"Come here," Andy said, taking Sharon out of the line of mourners once they were outside. "Something happened."

Sharon slipped her sunglasses to the top of her head. They were in the shade. She didn't need them. Rusty had come up next to her.

"What?" Sharon pressed.

Andy pulled his phone out of his pocket, went to the message he read from Buzz earlier, while people were receiving communion. Sharon and Rusty included. Among the sea of standing people he took his phone out and gave a quick glance. As Sharon read the message, Andy took a look around. It seemed he wasn't the only one who got the news.

Some people kissed their wives, got in their cars and drove off speeding. The ones in uniform were gone in seconds. Their families left, just like that. No knowledge of when their husband's or wives would return. If they would. The idea churned in Sharon's stomach as she handed the phone back to Andy.

"What's going on?"

"They found Phillip Stroh," Sharon said, summarizing it quickly for her son. "It should be done by nightfall."

A second officer had been shot. It was an attempt to rescue the first who had been deserted by the vehicle that he had taken refuge behind. The man was shot above the vest, the bullet piercing his heart. He was dead in seconds. The body dropped to the ground with a thud.

The gunfire lasted another ten minutes before silence fell. A cloud of smoke followed a whistle. A cloud of green came out and gunfire erupted from both sides. Then nothing. The radios were going off, chatter from the air patrol, men around the other side who had a clear view inside the shack – it was a tiny place. Stroh couldn't get far. A call for the police to cease-fire made it around the perimeter and the LAPD stopped their fire. An armor vehicle came roaring up, stopping in front of the trapped officers, the bodies who were on the ground providing temporary relief.

The men jumped to their feet from behind the truck and ran for the bodies. One was still alive, his face ruined by the bullet. Blood seeped onto the ground, the man still bleeding from multiple bone breakages, ruptured veins, shredded facial muscle – the man was in pain, it was just numb. The second body was DOA, but they tried to revive him. Nothing.

An ambulance was waiting for them at the Command post. One was taken to the hospital, the other to the Morgue. The EMT's waited, expecting more injuries.

"Stop it," Sharon muttered to Andy whose knee was bouncing in his chair at the burial site.

He wanted out. He needed to be up there. It made him uneasy that he was sitting there when he should be up there helping. He knew Sharon felt the same. Every time someone's phone would ring she'd tense up. Howard was there, his phone was going off the entire burial service. He did his best to ignore it. But as the priest called on everyone to bow their heads one more time, the man turned away and answered the phone.

A hand over his knee temporarily stopped the bouncing. The warmth seeped into him. It was the gunshot that sent his blood into a boil. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to be up there. He had –

Sharon was pulling him up. Her hand under his arm, forcing him to his feet. A 21-gun salute, three sets of seven went off. Every time the guns went off Andy thought about what was happening on the top of the mountain.

It wouldn't be until after the burial, when he was forced to go to the wake, they'd find out.

They set fire to the mountaintop. They lit the shack on fire. Someone with a scope had been able to confirm that the man inside was dead. A bullet wound to his head. Self-inflicted or not, their man was down.

"I'm having a great time," Rusty said, coming to stand next to his mother in the corner she had secluded herself to. "But you know, I don't know anybody and I would like to go home."

Sharon patted her son on the shoulder. Home would be nice. Their own beds would be nice. She understood.

"I haven't heard anything," Sharon said. "As soon as this is over we'll go home."

It was enough for now, she figured. Rusty nodded and took a drink of his soda. Her eyes were on Flynn, even beneath the dark lenses he sensed her. He gave her a look, a smirk at the corner of his lips and she grinned.

The smile faded quickly as she quietly and mentally chastised herself. How could she be happy at a time like this? A woman lost her husband. A child lost his father. She lost a friend. There was nothing to be happy about and yet Andy shined light into the darkness. She was able to be weak around him because he was strong enough to hold her up. She appreciated it.

The crowd was quickly alerted to visitors when they all heard the quick succession of doors slamming. Heavy booted feet came barreling through the house. Quick breaths were taken and Sharon thought, 'this is it.'

Andy had come to stand in front of her. Blocking her from the possibility of them taking her away. But it didn't come to that. Instead the men, dirty and grimy from the mountain had gone to their respected partners while one went to Catherine and took a bent knee. He ruffled the toddler's hair and told the woman something quietly. Catherine let out a sob; she covered her mouth and leaned to hug the man in front of her.

Sharon looked to Andy and Andy dug his phone out of his pocket. Sharon looked around and several men were doing the same. One whooped, another one hollered, and another one cheered.

"We fucking got 'im," One yelled and the crowd erupted into applause.

Sharon looked to Rusty. They were able to go home.

There was cause to celebrate, but Sharon wanted out. She wanted her sanctuary that was her apartment. A member of her detail was standing with a beer in his hand. Technically he was on duty and she was still a member of the FID. When she approached, he was coughing and trying to hide the alcohol.

"Don't worry," Sharon said, holding up her hand. "I come in peace. I just want the keys to the car."

The officer looked bewildered at her. She really wasn't going to say anything about the beer?

She held out her hand for the keys and when the officer handed them over she smiled. "Enjoy it, Sergeant."

The kid's name was Elliot, she read off the nametag.

Sharon walked around the house, to the street where her son and Andy were waiting. She handed over the keys to the man and slid into the passenger seat, the weight of the week settling into her.

The realization that she was being hunted would settle into her system soon. She expected it. Even so, she knew the weight of it was going to floor her. She would cry, she would hate her job. She was alive and four others were dead.

There would be quiet funerals for the Judge's daughter and her fiancé. Another funeral for the fallen officer who took a round to the heart. She wanted to go to none of them, but at the same time she felt obligated. Her life had been on the line just as much as theirs and she got to walk away without a scratch.

"We're going to have to call Dr. Joe in the morning," Sharon said when they loaded the elevator that would take them up to her apartment.

Andy was close, but distant. The lack of security surprised her. The teams had been called off almost immediately. They were all relieved of duty – a mandatory reprieve issued by Chief Pope. No one had to be told twice.

"Because talking about almost being killed by a cop killer is something I want to do," Rusty quipped as he turned his key in the lock to the apartment.

No one moved. He felt weird stepping into the apartment. The surveillance equipment had been cleared out that morning.

Sharon turned on the lights. Everything had been left the way she remembered it to be three or four days prior. She couldn't remember what day they were put into the safe house. Sunday? Saturday? She shook her head as she slipped the heels of her feet, sinking four inches into the carpet of her living room rug.

"I'm going to take a shower," Rusty announced.

Andy was still standing awkwardly in the doorway. There was no real reason for him to be there. He wasn't anything. Just a friend of the family who she spoke to once a month if she didn't see him at work.

"Come, sit," Sharon said, stripping off her coat, revealing the sleeveless dress she wore to the funeral.

"I should probably go," Andy mentioned.

Sharon looked up, her eyes darkening a bit. She was tired and starting to feel it. It was nearing nine in the evening, the wake and her being there was longer than she expected.

"Come have a drink," she said. "I've got something you can have around here."

"Sharon really."

"Andy," Sharon said, tilting her head. "You've known me for thirty years. Do you really expect me to just turn my head and expect noting more of you?"

It took him by surprise. But then again she always did. A drink, soda or water or even juice would be okay. He'd sit with her, they'd talk about the service, about the case, gloating that it was finally over and then the awkward dance of should they or shouldn't they go to bed. Together. Him on one side, her on the other, their bodies fully clothed.

Toeing off his shoes, setting them next to hers, he figured he'd work it out when he got there.

And this is the last case chapter! The next one is going to be the epilogue. Then it'll be over. But I still would like to know what you guys think about this chapter! Leave me a review, send me a PM, just send me your thoughts!