And a quick stop at the fire station it was.

Much to Steve's surprise, only Sawyer appeared from the back door of the Midtown Terrace Fire Department Station 1, dressed in his civvies, a distinctive urgency in his step as he bridged the short distance to the waiting car, before the trio sped off once again.

For the following forty-five minutes they'd trailed the LTD, keeping an even enough distance that the receiver on the dash beeped away rhythmically, never losing its cadence unless they got stuck at a light.

Steve had bit his lip as they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, wondering how long Mike would wait to intercept, and what exactly it would take for him to intercept. Or would the seasoned Lieutenant decide to just sit back and see what would happen? Gather evidence?

It was the strangeness of the situation that made his stomach queasy, the fact that they were spying on what was supposed to be fellow officers; men who had, for one reason or another, switched sides, decided to trade good for evil, peace and righteousness for death and destruction.

Shortly before they approached Santa Rosa, he decided to break the tense silence and looked over at his partner.

"Well, it's not like we can communicate with Devitt over the police radio. And we can't pull over to call him. How do we communicate? Let everyone know what's going on?"

For once, Mike's expression was guarded, entirely unreadable even to his best friend. His blue eyes met his for the fraction of a second, then resumed their stoic observation of the traffic ahead.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there…", Steve mumbled cynically, then shook his head, "What if…what if things go south? If they try to kidnap another woman? How do you suppose we should proceed? You want to try and arrest all three…or four of them?"

Mike didn't answer right away, as if wanting to ignore his pressing questions. And for several hundred yards, both men fell quiet once again, leaving Steve to continue his brooding behind clenched jaws.

Eventually, the Lieutenant sighed in unease, and glanced back over at him.

"Let's see what they're up to first. They could just be meeting. Or they could be looking for a new victim. Or they could try and commit another crime. We have no evidence leading us into either direction. And we can't demand support until…well…until we know for sure what they are up to. So we're going to have to keep an eye on them and…adlib."

Steve bit his tongue when all he wanted to do was question Mike's interpretation of the word adlib, and the exact meaning of his strategy. But for what it was worth, the seasoned Lieutenant was exactly right. Without the least bit of tangible evidence, any additional law enforcement involvement could have the potential of blowing their case right out of the water, their efforts being dubbed as a wild goose chase, and GiGi Visari's death left unavenged.

Steve would do anything in his power to prevent that from happening.

Yet, by the time they reached, and passed through Windsor without stopping, he was beginning to have a really bad gut feeling.