Snippet #2549915

Alek's bullets had both struck Bastien, one in the chest, one in the stomach to leave the man writhing on the ground. He managed to roll over onto his side, fingertips outstretched for the shotgun.

His body screamed in protest, and his legs felt leaden and sluggish as he tried to get a hold of his gun.

As his fingers closed around the butt of the weapon he jerked it over to him and rolled onto his back. With shaking arm, he pointed the muzzle at Alek's knee and squeezed the trigger.

The gun recoiled and he let it fall to the ground.

Meanwhile, Julienne still didn't have a clear shot. The lot of them could have been peppering Alek with bullets, had Bowen not engaged him in hand to hand, and now with Snow approaching from the building, she was just as likely to strike him, as she was to hit Alek.

"Fuck me," she bit out.

They had left her, Claire, and Chandler out here in the event Alek tried to escape through the window. They hadn't made plans for everyone to jump out the window after him and put themselves in the line of fire. The pair had effectively rendered her and Claire's position useless unless they wanted to risk friendly fire.