It's new year's eve in precinct 13, and the dozen or so folks inside-cops and perps alike—may not live long enough to watch a bowl game. Outside, a faceless horde is barraging the station with every weapon of destruction short of those not found in Saddam's Iraq, blasting craters in the windows and doors. The good guy in charge has some artillery, but he's short of manpower. One of the prisoners has a suggestion: "Why don't you give me one of those guns, Sergeant? I'll help fend off the black hats." It happens that this Good Samaritan is a black hat—a notorious cop killer. Oh, well, imminent death makes for impromptu comrades. Grab a rifle, pilgrim.
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