Very few people would understand the inherent comfort of heading back toward his office, the black overcoat keeping his sore body warm, his treasured fedora right back where it belonged, San Francisco Telegraph under his arm as he strolled through the bullpen, quite aware that every eye was on him that morning.
Nodding cordially at the half a dozen or so welcome back's, Mike relished the scent of fresh coffee mixed with that of mountains of paperwork and ink, signs of a busy place, busy people, and most of all, the end of the road for many criminals.
Only two days had passed since the chaotic turn of events up north and despite Jeannie's vehement protests, he decided to return to the office, regain a sense or normality and closure, if that was even possible.
A stack of get-well cards greeted him in his inbox, warming his heart on that chilly morning as Mike took his time to undress out of his overcoat, hanging it on the clothes rack along with his fedora, his eyes getting stuck on the Scales of Justice on his file cabinet and wondering for the umpteenth time if it truly had been served.
Death was too easy, even though Chong had bought that bullet a long time ago.
Mike put the newspaper on his desk ever so slowly, careful not to disturb the thick bandage hidden beneath his dark grey dress coat, the part of his shoulder that had been just a wee bit too close to the violent firefight.
His arms and legs were still sore, his face undoubtedly a sight to behold for anybody unaware of what had transpired in a few short days, ribs aching mercilessly, his concussion slowly but surely getting better. And while he wasn't planning on putting in a full workday quite yet, it felt good to be back in his office, gather perspective on something that had effectively shaken him to the core.
"Michael."
The gentle greeting was accompanied by a couple knocks on the doorframe to his office.
Without turning around, Mike glanced at his wristwatch and chuckled slightly, then shook his head.
"Took you all but thirty seconds to find me here, John."
Circling his desk, Mike leaned against the large window overlooking downtown, arms crossed over his chest as he managed a faint smile to acknowledge the Police Chief standing in his doorway.
"Let's just say I had a few people down at the parking garage keep an eye out for you.", Conden countered smilingly before letting himself in and closing the door behind him, "I came here to check on things. See how you're feeling."
"Just a little rough around the edges.", he lied in return, noticing the file under John's arm that usually meant this was far more than just a welfare visit.
"I can see that. Judging by the information I received from the hospital, it might be wise to take a couple extra days off. Let things heal, before jumping back into action."
"Not to worry. I don't plan to jump back into action quite yet. Just wanted to check on things in the office, then stop by the hospital to see Steve, then let Jeannie spoil me."
"Ah, yes, that sounds like a good idea."
Running a nervous hand through his short, silver hair, Conden hesitated for a fleeting moment, before dropping the file into Mike's inbox.
"This has Lieutenant Mason's phone number in it. The Feds have set up camp down in robbery for the time being. He'd like to talk to you about what happened up north whenever you feel up to it. Both you and Keller for that matter. I think it will help ehm…help close some loopholes for them. it would be fantastic if you could get back with him yet today so they can get started working up this case top to bottom. We have a news conference scheduled for tonight so that would give me a good start on what we can or can't throw at those vultures."
"Sure…", Mike countered evenly, not at all surprised by the secondary agenda shining through on the edges, as he let his eyes drift over the manila file, "I would imagine there's going to be quite a few questions thrown in your lap."
"Oh, you bet. Two patrol cops killed, two homicide detectives kidnapped, a missing reporter…I can't remember the last time my phone didn't ring."
He would have been happy to trade places, Mike thought and pursed his lips, his mind travelling back to the forest up north and the bone chilling cold that set an eerie stage for the horrific things that had happened there.
"Well…I am….I am gonna let you be.", Conden added awkwardly when nothing else was said and took a step backwards out of the office, "Just don't work too hard. Give yourself some time to rest."
With an indifferent nod, Mike pushed himself away from the window sill, ready to head to the beverage station when John cleared his throat one more time, his shoulders turned as though he was ready to leave but hesitating to do so.
"Listen ehm, Michael…about my call on holding off the rescue operation until we had enough manpower and daylight…well…well, I hope you won't take this personally. It was a tough call to make but I had to think of all the other cops out there and we…well…we didn't know exactly what we were walking into."
"You're fine, no worries…", he returned in feigned neutrality, even managing a smile that seemed to wash the tension right off Conden's strained features.
"Very well then. Glad to see you back in the office. Give Keller my regards too."
Nodding one last time, he watched the Chief scurry past the assortment of desks in the bullpen, before disappearing again as fast as he'd appeared.
How soon they forget.
Not knowing what one was walking into, Mike mused and grabbed his coffee cup for a much-needed morning beverage.
Welcome to the everyday life of every single cop out on these streets, Chief.