-=O=-***-=O=-

She met Whitney in the surgical waiting room. Her shirt and trousers were soaked with Webster's blood, her face pale as death.

"I screwed up. I was sure I could reason with him, that I could reach him and bring him in. Instead, he's at large and another good cop's dying."

"Webster's getting the best care available. Every one of us is responsible for himself, Dallas."

"I took him along." It could be Peabody on the operating table, she thought. Oh God, no way to win.

"He took himself along. Regardless, you've identified the suspect, and have done so through skilled investigative work. Sergeant Clooney won't be at large for long. We have an all-points. He's known. He fled with the clothes on his back. He has no funds, no resources."

"A smart cop knows how to go under. I let him go, Commander. I did not take the opportunity to take him down nor did I pursue."

"If you were again faced with making the choice of pursuing a suspect or saving a fellow officer's life, which way would you go?"

"I'd do the same thing." She looked toward the operating room. "For what it's worth."

"So would I. Lieutenant, go home. Get some sleep. You'll need all the resources of your own to finish this."

"Sir, I'd like to wait until they can tell us something on Webster."

"All right. Let's get some coffee. Can't be any worse here than it is at Central."