Leonard pulled Palmer up, over his shoulder as best as he could. The pain in his leg threatened to force his knees to buckle under the added weight. Len's eyes were wet, but he still kept his aim sharp. He lifted the gun and fired. The cold blast would cut through the air past Daredevil and squarely encase Savage where he lay at Daredevil's feet.

"I hate to ruin your moment," Snart breathed through the pain, leaving his words clipped. "but we need to leave." He staggered and only barely caught himself before he fell under Palmer. "Even that won't kill him. It'll just stall him." That, and he was a little afraid of what might happen if Savage did get off a well-aimed shot. The man wasn't against playing dirty, and he could already tell where that next bullet would've gone if he'd gotten the gun again. A tactic he'd pulled on Barry Allen in the past... If you can't shoot the hero, make the hero move into the bullet by shooting at an innocent. He'd be damned if he'd let this stupid kid take a bullet while he was unconscious, so that meant either it'd wind up in him, or Matt.

It only took a moment longer for a few stray goons who had been outside to filter in the front door and began firing wildly at Daredevil.