After 6 years, it was over. Not as planned, not really-Matsuda wasn't supposed to shoot, if he'd miscalculated anything it was that. Damnit. Of all people to fuck things up at the last moment, it had to be Matsuda typical.
Near's voice broke over the headset:
"Kira's on foot-" he said dully. "The task force insisted on going after him."
"How bad?" was his own flat reply.
"Leave him, he's not going to survive this."
"I make the decisions," and it had been that way for a while now-a power struggle already. The boy was 19, barely on the field, but the threat was in his tense stubborn, silence-there would be a break between them-