“Mike...Mike.” No one spoke, but he could hear the sound of a scuffle mixed in with sirens. “Mike, fuck, answer me,” he hissed out, trying to stay quiet enough the men in front of him couldn’t hear him. Mike said nothing. Roger kept moving, following the man he thought was Davis, though all he wanted to do was turn around and find Mike. God, they shouldn’t have separated, but Davis was important to Duff, so the man was important to Roger. “Fuck, Mike, talk.” Roger sped up, trying to get closer to the man he believed to be Davis. A loud sound blasted through the phone. He pulled the device away from his ear as pain flashed from the loud noise. The shudder that ripped through him made his steps falter. He almost tripped, but righted himself quickly, forcing himself to focus on the pair of men in front of him. If Mike was shot, there wasn’t anything he could do now.
