"The press is starting to arrive. Bernie is on his way, lab crew is a few minutes behind. Conden got here just now and they're working on getting a grief counselor set up, probably Murchison."

Mike kept his tone of voice unreadable even when talking to his partner; too deep was the wound of losing two of their own, an injury that cut into his heart and soul each time it happened, forcing him to hide beneath a shell of false neutrality until he could be sure his intense emotions wouldn't surface until he had time to process the tragedy.

With a slight pat on the arm, he nudged Steve to follow along as they left the apartment building, crossed the charred remains of the patrol car and its two diseased occupants, the heavy smoke filled with fumes of burning rubber, seat cushions and flesh lingering, practically attaching itself to everyone in the vicinity.

"No luck on my end unfortunately. Whatever went down, it went down fast…and smooth. No witnesses thus far."

Steve's voice had grown hoarse, his eyes drifting over to the patrol car whenever he thought Mike wasn't watching, his mind incapable of comprehending the unspeakable horror at their feet.

"I'd be surprised if we find anybody. These guys aren't lollipops, Steve. They've been doing this for a long, long time."

When they reached the outskirts of the secured scene, Mike stopped for a moment, grasping his partner's elbow to spin him around, forcing him to glance up.

"This explosion back there…that wasn't just a message. That was damage control. They're trying to nail down every single person who has something to do with this…this cartel of doctors. Whoever they are, wherever they are located, they're working hard to ensure that no word about them goes out."

With a slight nod, Steve cocked his chin toward the apartment complex.

"What do you think they're gonna do with Gifford? If they wanted her dead, they could have done so back at the apartment. Why go through all those lengths to kidnap her?"

"I'm not sure.", Mike admitted between gritted teeth when he saw the Channel 8 van with Oliver Savino in the passenger seat arrive behind the armada of police cars, "Let's head back downtown, see if R&I had more luck tracking down the delivery address of the formaldehyde. I have a funny feeling we'll find our reporter lady at the same place.

Word about the two murdered police officers had spread like a wildfire, the incident still filling the airwaves of all the scanners as they pulled back into the underground parking garage of the Hall of Justice Building in downtown.

The feeling of walking in the crosshairs of an uncertain number of ruthless killers never left his mind as Steve followed Mike upstairs, glancing over his shoulder more than once to assure they wouldn't share the same fate as the two officers earlier.

Even Mike's half-hearted attempt at small talk as they rode the elevator upstairs did little to loosen those tense muscles in his shoulders, nor get rid of the ominous feeling that they were about to walk right into a carefully laid out ambush, no matter which direction their investigation was taking them or what steps they'd take trying to prevent that outcome.

It was a very realistic fear that was beginning to cripple his senses the longer the day went on, bubbling deep inside and threatening to overtake his critical thinking skills.

"If they went as far as checking out my apartment, I wonder why they didn't wait around to kill or kidnap me?"

There.

He'd finally gotten it out in the open as they reached the barren corridor of the 4th floor, his frantically beating heart slowing down a little bit when his overwhelming anxiety was met with the warmth and understanding of Mike's solemn gaze.

"I don't know either. Could be that they were just trying to locate your apartment. Or that Janine arriving startled them.", the Lieutenant admitted as they slowed down, waiting for a couple passerby's to get out of earshot, before he continued, "Whatever reason they may have had, I'm just grateful that you're alright."