they always said storm was superhuman. now we know why he was always jacked up on coke!
what the hell's i.a. doing up at this hour?
this is homicide, not internal affairs.
you and storm were tight, o'malley. i'm sorry.
well.
we know how to do our job, senator.
i'll settle for a bullet.
you had him point-blank seven years ago, and he's still walking!
fuck his picture! get off your asses -- start earning your money!
he's nuts -- but not that nuts.
a faint smile comes to his face with great confidence. as he backs out of the toilet, he pulls his pistol from his shoulder holster, cocking it. he cautiously exits.
sonofabitch.