that.
Let's get out of here.
Step out of the car slowly.
Keep your hands
where I can see them.
It's going to be
one of those nights.
Watch it!
Shit.
Holy smoke.
Suspect is armed
and headed eastbound.
I'd say we're going
the right way.
There it is.
You bitch.
Shit!
God damn it!
Why not try for the tires?
I'm trying to.
You think it's easy?
Why don't you try it?
Son of a...
Hold the wheel.
You hold it.
You wanted to...
What are you doing?
Jesus!
You're out of your damn mind!
You're fucking nuts.
I'm going in.
I'll cover you.
I'd be safer if you didn't.
Fine. I won't cover you.
All right. Cover me.
Want me to cover you or not?
I need you to cover me.
Fine. I'll cover you.
Jesus Christ.
She's bleeding to death.
Why doesn't she go down?
We got to get to her
before she dies.
Why don't we wait
till after she's dead?
You think it's over now.
You're wrong.
I'm not coming out yet.
I'll kill you first.
Roy, come...
God!
Lieutenant.
Yeah, Willis,
what's your status?
Broad just jumped, around back.
Go on ahead.
- Halt!
- FBI!
Get away from the body!
The party's over, pal.
She's dead.
She's dead, Lieutenant.
Hell of a night, huh?
Who was here?
Who touched the body?
She's dead, Mr. Gallagher.
It's over.
Nelson, this is Willis.
Check on the coroner's
arrival for me.
Better bring in the
Robbery /Homicide shooting team.
What's going on up there?
You want us up there?
You want to make
some room there?
Move 'em out of the way.
Gurney coming through.
Joey.
Hey, look,
it's none of my business...
but the lady had
fifteen bullet holes in her.
You guys like
making my job miserable, huh?
Shouldn't you go
to the ambulance now?
Just give me a minute.
It's not over, is it?
I want an explanation.
Explanation won't help you.
I've worked homicide
for thirteen years...
and I've seen
a lot of strange shit.
But I have never
seen anything like this.
You know what's going on,
and I don't.
You're going to tell me.
Explanation's
not going to help you.
I'll decide that.
Then I'm sorry.
Hey!
Don't you walk away from me.
What I'm after
is still out there...
and I don't know where to start.
Tommy, what happened to you?
Arrest him.
Arrest him?
Book him.
Lloyd...
I've got to take you downtown.
Boss' orders.
Come on.
Woodfield,
what are you doing up so late?
Having a ball.
I heard you took one.
You OK?
Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.
I woke you, huh?
No, I'm fine.
I'm fine.
If I wasn't fine...
somebody else would call you,
wouldn't they?
I got into a bit of a scrape,
but no big deal.
I'm just calling
so you won't worry.
I'll be home soon.
I'll, uh...
I'll be home as soon as I can.
I love you, too. Bye.
I hope you know what
you're doing, busting a Fed.
Let me worry about that.
How's the arm?
Hey, it's a scratch.
What the hell's this,
your press secretary?
This is the stuff
I got from Lloyd...
firearms, personal I. D...
and who in the hell
knows what this is?
Must be some kind
of special FBI toy.
Drop it off at the lab.
We'll see what they can
figure out in the morning.
Gotcha. No problem.
Thanks, partner.
Take care of that arm.
I got that information
you wanted.
Seattle FBI
says Agent Lloyd Gallagher...
was killed in a forest fire
about a month ago...
with a friend of his
named Stone, Robert Stone.
They were hunting
in Olympic National Forest...
the weekend
they had that big forest fire.
Bureau figured Stone was dead.
Never found his body.
Just figured it burned up
in the fire.
Is that all?
I had them wire me
a picture of Stone.
Evidently, Mr. Stone...
has taken over the identity
of his dead friend.
If you don't need me,
I'm going home.
Brem?
Good work.
Excuse me, Sarge.
Where do you want him?
Take the cuffs off him.
You want me to stay?
Crazy thing.
I was starting to like you.
Sit down.
I checked with the FBI
in Seattle.
Lloyd Gallagher is dead.
Your real name is Robert Stone.
That's about