>>6316785>>6316798>>6316924If this were a real situation you'd have to act immediately. You briefly consider drawing your baton or tazer but taking your focus away from keeping your grip could be even worse. You pull back slightly and prepare the check the door when Hawthorne's voice echoes in your head.
"...Your foot on the door is your anchor..."
You've been under him long enough to start knowing how he thinks. He's got that foot planted, waiting for you to bounce off the door so he can wrench the gun from your hands, so you don't fall for it. Your free hand shoots out, clamping around his wrist, as you simultaneously walk backwards. You take long slow steps as not to actually hurt him but the effect is still displayed. Hawthorne's forearm is held fast against the edge of the door. The angle he holds your weapon doesn't give him the leverage to pull back, not without letting your weapon free, so you keep retreating making sure to use your legs instead of your upper body to pull his wrist into a point where it's sandwiched between the doorframe and the door. Hawthorne's hand releases and gives you a thumbs up as he takes a step back and pulls the door wide while rubbing his wrist.
"Not bad, rook. Not bad at all. Most people get grabbed by the arm and forget they got a set of working legs right under em. You walk on em all day, odds are they'll give you a better chance than your arms."
"Unless you have arms like Kimble."
"Kimble's a freak of nature. He wakes up and starts doing burpees. He actually likes em, the sick son of a bitch." Hawthorne chuckles.
"I know..." You reply with exaggerated sadness.
"Yeah well, you seem in good shape to me. Not too much longer before we're off special assignment and back to patrols."
"I'm excited. It's been fun working all the cases we get, helping out the Detectives or whoever. But I'm not looking to skip the line, I wanna put in my hours on the beat like everyone else. Well, if I leave the beat at all."
"What's that mean?" Hawthorne asks, arcing a bro as he steps into the study and sits on the plush arm of a leather chair.
"Nothing just... I promised Banks that if he ends up getting iced out due to the Gorchakov thing that I would stay on beat with him. Partner up so he wasn't alone."
"Jesus Christ, kid..." Hawthorne groans.
"What? I can't just abandon him, especially since I'm the one that convinced him to take the stand."
"He shouldn't have needed convincing. He shouldn't have gotten involved with Gorchakov's games in the first place. First time he was told to do something on the low he should have gone and reported it to Kimble or Reiner."
"You don't mean that."
"Why not? Look, he's fresh. Not as fresh as you but still, in the time he was here before you he was trying anything he could to jump ranks or get in with a specialty team. Undercover, Narco, SWAT, anyone who would listen got a sales pitch."
"He's ambitious, There isn-"
