From the moment they'd passed the gates to San Quentin, Steve had felt the chills running down his back.
Yes, safety precautions were in place to keep them from being attacked. Yes, it was standard procedure to strip them off their badges, guns and ammo. Yes, not everybody incarcerated here was somebody whose case file had passed their desks.
And yet, beyond the caged windows and fenced-in basketball courts, he could feel eyes staring at them, following their every move; eyes that belonged to dangerous and underutilized minds, lusting for a chance to get back at those who put them in prison in the first place.
He also knew that sometimes, when the prime target wasn't readily available, any cop killed would count as a victory.
Steve had quietly followed the guard as he led them past countless corridors, keeping a safe distance to the cell blocks and gathering areas. In front of him, Mike's black coat was swishing back and forth with each step the Lieutenant took, creating an abstract shadow the young Inspector subconsciously sought protection in as they went about their somber business.
They took a sharp right, the ensuing hallway narrowing significantly, before ending in a solid metal door with a small bullet-proof glass window, giving sight of what reminded him a lot of an interrogation room.
"Here you go, Lieutenant. Inspector. Give us two minutes and we'll have your inmate ready."
The door opened with a deafening clonk and the detectives entered, just to hear the same ominous sound as it was shut behind them again.
"Reminds me of my first apartment…", Steve breathed, trying to make light of a situation that was wearing heavily on both of them.
Not answering, Mike made a half circle around the plain metal table and adjacent chair, as if to inspect it for any flaws in the security measures in place, then resumed his quiet wait leaning against the barren gray wall.
It only took a few seconds before the sound of shackles against the concrete floor disrupted the silence.
The door on the opposite side of the room opened up slowly, giving sight of Joe Karpa dressed in light blue cotton overalls, a sleezy smile on his face. His usually well-cut hair and mustache were unkempt now, but he never lost that dangerous aura despite the downgrade in attire.
"That's some nice bracelets you got there, Karpa.", Mike hissed at the African American Drug lord as the attending Sergeant pushed him into the chair, then affixed the chains tying his arms and legs together to an O-Ring in the floor.
Not gracing the remark with an answer, Karpa glared up at the two detectives, but waited until the Sergeant disappeared with an acknowledging nod, before opening his mouth.
"How somebody hasn't killed you yet is beyond me, Stone…"
"That's because you keep hiring amateurs.", Mike shot back, earning himself a worried glance from his partner.
Steve knew that the Lieutenant would be able to hold it together if need be, but undeniably, after what happened, it was easy to see that his temper was slowly getting the better of him.
"Me? Hiring anybody? You must be mistaken. Is that why you wanted to visit me? You're trying to pin the tail on the donkey again, Stone? Push the blame onto the first person who crosses your path?"
"Yeah, we know, you're just the picture of innocence, Karpa.", Steve chimed in, hoping to divert some of the antagonism off Mike.
With a loud chuckle, the drug lord shook his head, then showed off his immaculate white teeth again, just like a tiger before an attack.
"Why don't you keep your mouth shut while the adults are talking? Your opinion is meaningless to me."
"So who do you have running the show outside of Q now, mh?", Mike cut to the chase and stepped closer to the metal table, symbolically positioning himself between Steve and Karpa, "Your old squad is either dead or locked up. Seems you recruited some new…material. I'd hate to tell you, but you are having some serious startup trouble."
Never losing the insincere smile, Karpa glanced back and forth between both detectives, then leaned back in the chair as far as the chains allowed.
"Lieutenant Stone…it seems as though your imagination is getting the better of you again. Me? Hiring somebody from within? Now, how would I do such a thing?"
"I think you and I both know how you'd be doing such a thing.", Mike mocked in return, his usually warm blue eyes cold and calculating now, "We checked your phone records but they came back clean. So we know you've got somebody on the inside making calls on your behalf. But believe me, we're tightening that net as we speak."
"Lieutenant, Lieutenant, will you please stop with the pointless insinuations. I haven't got the faintest idea what you are talking about."
Both men fell quiet for a fleeting moment, exchanging gazes that spoke volumes about the truth that was being vehemently denied. Steve studied the drug lord intently; surprised that he couldn't see any of the usual signs of lying, the rapid eye movement, increase in breathing, perspiration.
It seemed that Joe Karpa was one of the few men who had perfected the act of lying.
"The moment we make that connection, you will never see the outside of this complex again. And if I have my way, you're going to spend the rest of your days in isolation. Only you and the ghosts of your past, the horrific things you did, as a silent companion.", Mike began his speech, then leaned back against the wall again, fighting to keep his emotions under control, "The only saving grace you have in all of this is to tell us where Pauly and Christine are. What did you do to them?"
Karpa's smile grew wider, as the drug lord shook his head.
"Oh? You mean to tell me they are missing?"
Steve had expected Mike's reaction long before the Lieutenant moved a muscle, and jumped forward in time to intercept his best friend, as he charged toward Karpa.
"If they have as much as a scratch on them, I swear I will-"
Squeezing Mike's arm tightly before anything else could be said seemed to do the trick, when the Lieutenant hesitated, then glanced back at him, his blue eyes growing apologetic.
It was Karpa's laugh that disrupted their moment of peace, causing both detectives to glance back at him.
"You will do what, Lieutenant? Come in here and attempt to charge me with a crime that happened outside these prison walls? Don't kid yourself. Besides, with that sour attitude, you'll be joining us in here shortly anyways. And we'll be sure to throw you a grand welcoming party."