I have been working on this bad boy for a little over 4 months and a lot has happened in between, some good, some not so good. Stress is always a good motivator to keep writing and I found that some of the issues discussed in here reflect my thoughts at the time. I hope you will enjoy it.

In the last few seconds, the smoke had become so thick that he couldn't see more than a few feet ahead. The toxins made his eyes water and his throat burn, each inhale scorching his lungs even more, the intense heat beginning to singe the thin hairs on the top of his hand.

Off in the back corner, another explosion shook the building, sending a wall of fiery fury mercilessly their way.

As the flames began to lick away at the floor around them, lighting lose papers and boxes of merchandise on fire; Mike grasped his partner tighter, protectively curling his body around Steve's, hoping to shield the young Inspector from the mortal peril that surrounded them.

His left hand kept a steady hold on his sole napkin, carefully draped across Steve's nose and mouth to keep the toxic smoke out of his airways, the sole measure of protection he could currently offer.

Osorro had ambushed them after all, setting an elaborate trap, a dangerous trail of bread crumbs that had led to the warehouse up in the China Basin.

The arsonist case had been littered with bodies starting with eight seniors in an assisted living facility, three wheelchair-bound veterans a month later and at last, a fire fighter who died when the floor of a two-story building collapsed underneath him.

Osorro had used the media as his outlet, making demands to change social security and disability laws to help the common people while reducing salaries of the local politicians. It had seemed like the everyday ramblings of a derailed and angry man until buildings had begun to burn to the ground and people died an agonizing death.

For four months now, they had investigated the case, still unable to put a face to the man, much less narrow down his background, having to pick up the pieces after the fact, rather than prevent more bloodshed.

The pressure from the brass had been excruciatingly unrelenting and yet, nothing could be done without witnesses, which were hard to come by in the media circus that had formed a tight protective banner around Osorro, hoping his threats would boost their rating, regardless of the human bloodshed associated with them.

The heat was becoming unbearable now, the wailing of sirens outside barely making it past the horrific roaring of the flames shooting through the busted-out windows, sucking in more oxygen to grow stronger.

He could sense the fire encroaching, the skin on the back of his neck burning as the flames began to eat away at everything in their immediate perimeter.

It was too hot to keep his eyes open, the burning tears turning to boiling water as they rolled down his cheeks.

At least Steve still seemed out of it, Mike told himself, so if things were to go downhill fast, he'd be spared the horrific suffering that came with burning to death.

They'd gotten close to Osorro a couple of times, their successes summed up to seeing a cab leave a news station and a tall man in a beige dress coat disappear amongst a crowd of people.

It must have been enough for the arsonist to feel threatened, thus luring them into the warehouse under the guise of an anonymous tip.

Having been on the force long enough to know that an ambush was a potential threat, Mike had stationed unis within a two-mile perimeter, while keeping the local fire station on call in case things would go awry- which they did fairly quickly.

They'd entered the large storage building and split up, Steve covering the west end while he headed for the loading docks. A maze of boxes and carts had blocked many of the aisles, shipments from overseas containing everything from clothing to jewelry and highly flammable paints.

With the grace of an alley cat, Mike had silently made his way from one corridor to the next, keeping an eye out for the illusive madman with a dozen deaths at his hands, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end the longer their search carried on.

Suddenly, from several feet away he'd heard a thud.

With the blood freezing in his veins, he backtracked a couple of steps until he found an aisle he could navigate, keeping his steps soft as he rushed past a cart full of shrink-wrapped plastic strollers and dolls.

Another wall of cardboard boxes stacked to the ceiling greeted him, along with an ominous silence.

Breathing shallow, with his gun drawn, Mike peeked his head around the corner, hoping to see something.

What greeted him was the sight of his motionless partner on the ground, with a masked man kneeling on his back and searching his belt for the service revolver.

"Hold it, Police!", Mike ordered, his voice quivering in undisguised horror.

Freezing in his spot momentarily, the man chuckled and shook his head, before glancing up, the ski mask hiding all except his cold brown eyes.

With astonishing agility, he jumped back to his feet and leapt off to the side, enough to escape Mike's line of fire, his manic laughter filling the eerily quiet building.

Then, with a quick flip of the wrist, he threw a match into a stack of boxes along his path filled with something Mike couldn't see, causing a small explosion that shook the ground.

Not long after, the unmistakable scent of combustible fumes filled the area, fueling the fire to grow four times its size in a matter of a few seconds.

Mike moved from his position, attempting to follow their suspect but finding the aisle fully engulfed in flames, as cartons tumbled to the ground, blocking their escape route.

Securing the revolver in his right-hand belt holster, he rushed toward his partner, keeping one eye on the fire that was quickly spreading to the next aisle, then the next one, until they formed a perfect circle around a certain two detectives, a carefully crafted trap that had just snapped down on them.

Soon, more explosions could be heard from farther away, other parts of the building catching on fire, the flames rising to the ceiling in unforgiving vengeance.

With no way out, it left Mike to hunker down, protect his partner and wait out the deadly threat, hoping that help would arrive in time.