The assortment of tire tracks in the loose dirt of the two-track proved them right as the two San Francisco Homicide detectives slowly made their way through the woods, the winding paths and rise and fall of elevation both disturbingly confusing and dizzying.
For several tense minutes, the purr of the Galaxy's strong V8 engine and the low hum of the heat coming through the air vents was the only noise in the cab of the tan sedan, as both detectives stared ahead intently, trying to be completely aware of the terrain, and any enemies that could hide amongst the shadows and hills surrounding them.
A mile and a half into their journey, the two-track began to narrow significantly, the trees encroaching them from either side as the road grade grew deeper, causing daunting walls of moss and grass covered forest floor to block their view to either side but front and back.
Steve drew in a deep breath, feeling like the scared and desperate cattle being herded into the killing chutes at the slaughterhouse. With limited resources, no cover in case of an ambush, and hardly any ammo considering they were up against at least four guys- that was, if the second car was only occupied by one person- both he and Mike were hopelessly outnumbered. And outgunned. And out of luck if things went south.
Yet, it seemed that in his quest to bring Cassidy and his men to justice, Mike seemed more intent than ever to ignore the obvious warning signs, his bright blue eyes fixated, almost obsessed with the road ahead, all his senses cued on the other car they had lost visual on a mile or so back and every inch that brought them closer to their destination-wherever that was.
While there was no doubt in his partner's strong condemnation when it came to people hiding behind their badges, Steve knew well enough that things like anger and disapproval didn't shield them from flying bullets.
Judging by Cassidy's track record when it came to GiGi Visari, he couldn't help but shudder at the thought of what might happen if things didn't go exactly as Mike had planned, whichever plan it was that seemed to be circling around in that brilliant mind sitting next to him.
"Slow down. There's a clearing ahead."
Noticing the sun rays a fraction of a second after Mike did, Steve carefully took his foot off the gas, then shifted it to the brake, the Galaxy coming to a stop right before the daylight could touch the grill.
They both leaned slightly forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the clearing ahead.
As if a razorblade had torn through the countryside, the daunting forest ended abruptly, making room for a lush meadow and a few random blooming bushes. And in the far back corner, nestled against the forest that circled the clearing, was a small cottage with two vehicles parked in front of it.
Mike drew in a deep breath, his eyes scanning the perimeter, his left hand hesitantly reaching for the police radio. Across the bench seat, Steve watched his partner intrigued, sensing the Lieutenant's mind carefully gauging every single scenario they might end up facing.
"You gonna 10-20? Or call in backup?"
Upon his cautious question, Mike faintly shook his head, before dropping his hand back into his lap.
"Not yet. Remember, they have access to police radios as well. They can hear our transmissions just like we can hear theirs."
It would be the only answer he'd receive on the topic before the Lieutenant reached for the door handle and exited the Galaxy.