The old barn seemed far darker than the previous day, making their hunt for the illusive crowbar significantly more difficult.

Mike sighed, noting that he was starting to see his breath, as he watched his partner walk up and down the east wall, shaking off the dust here and there and running into spiderwebs along the way.

"You sure you saw it?"

"Of course, I am sure…", Steve argued defensively and approached the wooden ladder to the adjacent loft, "But that's when there was light…and I could see the hand in front of my face."

Deciding not to feed his partner's agitation any further, Mike didn't answer. Instead, he let his eyes drift over the wall to his right, noting two bare spots without any dust or spider webs; both relatively large areas, where something had hung but was missing now.

He was just about to share his observation with his partner, when a loud squeaking noise filled the silence.

As both detectives froze in their respective spots, Mike near the door, Steve halfway up the ladder, the Lieutenant reached for his .38, as they waited in anxious suspense, eager to learn about the source of the noise. An increasingly loud humming coming from the main yard sounded like a failing transmission, and Mike took a few steps back, poking his head around the wooden barn door.

Much to his surprise, the noise came from an antique yard light on the west side of the farm house. Sitting up some fifteen feet in the air, what little light it shed wasn't so much as lighting up the yard, as it was blinding him.

"They must be having that light on some sort of timer…", Mike said when he returned to the inside of the barn, only to find the ladder to the loft empty. Somewhere up in the darkness, he heard his partner rummage through boxes.

"Be safe up there, I don't need you to tripping and falling ten feet to the ground…", he warned sternly and approached the area, following his hearing rather than the limited visual, when it came to finding Steve.

"Don't worry about me.", the young Inspector answered slightly out of breath, and Mike could hear cardboard boxes being shifted around, "I don't need a flashlight to know what I am digging into."

Raising his eyebrows at the cryptic comment, Mike stepped closer to the loft, and looked straight up.

"Like what?"

"There's boxes up here, tons of them…", Steve began before stepping close enough to the edge that his partner could see him, "They're full of plastic-sealed medical supplies and heavy-duty cargo containers. The type used for shipping organs. They probably put them up here to make them look inconspicuous. Here, step aside…"

Mike moved a few feet off to the right, just in time to watch his partner drop a box from the loft, causing a cloud of dust to billow when it hit the dry sand of the barn floor.

"I also found the crow bar from yesterday up here. Somebody must have moved it. These cartons are all sealed with thick tape, I had to bring out my secret weapon to open them."

"Your secret weapon?"

"Pocket knife. "

"Figures…", Mike sighed in return and walked up to the cardboard box. Pushing the flaps on either side down, he reached for the handle on the thick white plastic container stored inside, before carefully pulling it out.

Barely larger than a tackle box and secured with two lockable metal clasps, the inside of the container featured inserts for ice packs and plenty of cushion to keep its precious cargo from getting damaged.

"I'd say we hit the jackpot there…"

Returning the container into the box for the time being, Mike glanced back up into the loft, surprised when his partner didn't say anything.

"Steve?"

Blinking against the few rays of light coming in from the yard outside, Mike took a few more steps back, hoping to see a sign of the young Inspector, but the wall of boxes made it a sheer impossible task.

"STEVE!"

His plea was answered with quick footsteps, almost too quick for the darkness surrounding him. Following the clattering of cowboy boots against old barnwood, Mike saw his partner reappear in the far east corner, frantically climbing down the ladder and almost missing a rung on his way down.

"They've got people in that house, Mike. I didn't see them until I was up in the loft and got a better look at it with that yard light on. I've seen at least two of them tied down in the kitchen area."

Grasping his partner's upper arm to stop him from rushing by and into a potentially dangerous situation, Mike waited a second, until the set of frantic green eyes met his.

"They weren't there yesterday. Seems like a…a new shipment, so to speak. We may have caught these guys off guard when we showed up unexpected today. But it's just as possible that these…these people being tied up there in plain view could be a setup. "

Steve nodded quietly, clenching his jaw as he grasped the crowbar tightly.

"What do you want to do? We can't just leave them there…"

"I know that.", Mike urged and grasped his partner's arm tighter, trying to shake him to his senses, "I also know that there might be an unknown number of suspects hiding somewhere on this property right now. They know the area far better than we do. There's a good chance we're both, outnumbered and outgunned."

Steve fell quiet, letting the seasoned Lieutenant's words sink in.

"Well, we are on their turf. And disrupting their plans. Assuming you are right, they might go after us regardless of whether we try to help these people or not."

"I am betting on that…"

Mike turned around and let his eyes drift over the west wall toward the farm house. His vivid memory from the previous day brought up several possible hiding spots in their vicinity and his military background provided ample locations to cut off their escape route, depending on how many subjects were on site.

Suddenly missing his City and the streets he'd grown to know square every inch of, Mike couldn't help but feel a certain sense of doom overshadow his strategic thinking. Even without solid evidence, the possibility that they were hopelessly surrounded was quickly becoming a certainty.

By now, he could sense it in every sinew of his body.

"They may not know yet that Roy and Andy are sitting farther back. We can try to free the hostages, have the boys take them back into town and then call backup. Andy has DeWitt's number. If all goes well, we could have this place swarming with cops in three hours."

"Mhm…", Steve hesitated, then looked up at him with deep unconditional trust in both, his decision-making and his ability to pull this plan off while trying his best to keep them safe.

"Three hours is a long time. Even longer if things don't…eh…go to plan…Mike…what are we going to do in the meantime?"

Reaching up to wrap a strong hand around the nape of his partner's neck, Mike pulled the young Inspector closer, until their faces were only a few inches apart.

"We'll do everything we can to stay alive… And I mean everything."