At the hospital, Kima wanly rouses herself in bed. The first thing she sees when she opens her eyes is Cole, looming over her and smiling. She smiles back, though his posture kind of suggests that he might have been thinking about smothering her with an unseen pillow. Anyway, she rolls her head the other way and comes face to face with Bunk, sitting next to her bed like a normal person. Seeing him, she chuckles a little, and Bunk reports that he and Cole had heard she was up, but then by the time they arrived, she'd fallen asleep again. I hope if I ever get shot straight through the neck, I don't get any guff about sleeping as much as I damn please. Kima hoarsely asks if they've been there long, and Bunk shrugs that it's only been twenty minutes, and that they didn't want to disturb her. "I'm bored, is all," she says modestly, and looks at Cole, still smiling down at her in a fond, fatherly way. Kima notes the folder Bunk's set on the table in front of her, and asks what they've got: "Spreads?" You know, girl, you just suffered major trauma. Maybe having your sandwich without the spicy brown mustard would be okay. Oh -- not that kind of spread. Bunk opens the folder and pulls out a photo array; as he holds it in front of Kima, he matter-of-factly taps his finger on Little Man's mug shot, just in case she isn't up to ID-ing him herself, though she seems very confident as she agrees, "Little Man. For sure." Cole asks whether she's able to write, and she nods. Bunk hands her a pen, and she signs the photo. He produces the second array, tapping the photo of Wee-Bey for her. Kima flicks her eyes up at Bunk, and after a moment mutters, "I can make Little Man, 'cause he's in the front, trying to snatch the cash off the dashboard. But the other one -- he's outside in the dark. So." Cole looks disappointed, but Bunk says it's okay. Glancing around shiftily, he directs her attention back to the photo array, asking if there's anyone else there that she recognizes. "Sure," she says. "Wee-Bey."
Bunk sends Cole away with a jerk of his head, and briefs Kima on where they're coming from with her shooters. As Cole looks out the window, a decent distance away, Bunk tells Kima how they tracked the guys' escape route, and Jay found their hoodies. He explains that one of the hoodies had Wee-Bey's hair in it, and that Lester tracked a call from a pay phone to Stringer's pager, right after the shooting, using Wee-Bey's pager code, and with a can at the scene with Little Man's print on it: "You know, so, I'm saying...." Kima doesn't bite, so Bunk tries another tack: "There's a downside here. We don't have the guns, no prints from the scene, no witnesses. But worse, we're going to be dealing with a Baltimore city jury, and a good man is hard to find in this town." Sure -- why do you think Kima just gave up? Hey-o! Shooting a look at Cole, Bunk leans in to tell Kima, "An ID of both of your shooters will play a whole lot easier come trial." Cole watches tensely as Bunk produces his pen again. Kima looks at Wee-Bey's mug shot again, but doesn't back down: "Sometimes things just got to play hard." Man, standing up to that hard sell -- and from a hospital bed, no less? That's the girl I want in my corner the next time I have to buy a car.