Steve could sense the distinctive shift in attitude when he watched Olsen leave Mike's office in a hurry, going as far as closing the door behind him before disappearing in the adjacent hallway.
He watched the Lieutenant of Homicide in his peripheral vision, pretending to read off a report he couldn't even begin to focus on, waiting patiently until Rudy was out of sight before getting up from behind his desk.
The revelation of Bernie's phone call earlier still made him tremble a bit, the findings so fundamental that he couldn't wait to share them with Mike- except that his excitement was damped by the sour mood that filled the inner office and slowly seeped into the bullpen as well, making him queasy as to what went on between the two men in the short, yet heated conversation.
Swallowing his unease for the sake of sharing the breaking news from the morgue; Steve headed toward his best friend's office, trying to ignore the tension radiating from the other man, the angry eyes that seemed to bore holes into the wall, the stiff posture as he sat behind the desk, contemplating away.
Finally, Steve carefully reached for the doorknob, letting himself in without a knock and knowing none was needed.
"Hey…you got a second?"
Keeping his voice calm, he waited for Mike to acknowledge him, then take a deep breath to release some of the anger he so obviously harbored.
"Yeah…"
"I take it Rudy didn't bring good news?", Steve asked cautiously and closed the door behind him, before approaching, then taking up his spot by the file cabinet.
"Something like that, yeah. Seems that the brass isn't happy with our lack of progress. And me, specifically. They want to treat the Osorro case as a closed case while pretending that our building wasn't burning yesterday. I haven't seen this much denial since…"
Mike stopped himself when his voice reached an unhealthy pitch, then shook his head, fighting an inner battle about what to say or do about the situation.
Deciding to give his partner's anger a second to simmer down, Steve carefully dropped the notepad he'd been grasping like a life line onto Mike's desk.
"Olsen might be onto something there."
The words meant to snap his partner out of his agitated state caused Mike to stare up at him in undisguised annoyance, before letting his eyes drift down to the notepad.
"What are you talking about? Don't tell me you're jumping on the bandwagon with these guys."
"Not exactly.", Steve argued and crossed his arms over his chest, "I just got off the phone with Bernie, after he got off the phone with Europe. We have a positive ID on the burnt body found in the warehouse. James Oswald Roberts, age 56, born and raised in the UK, never finished school but instead joined several militia groups, all heavy artillery, anti-government stuff. At one point, Interpol nearly tied him to the IRA as well, but he disappeared off the face of the earth a couple of years ago. They always suspected he moved to the US to do some freelance work or join local terrorist groups but never had any proof- until now."
As he watched Mike take in the information, Steve felt an involuntary shudder run down his back, the implications of Bernie's discovery and the subsequent closing of the Osorro case taking a weight off his shoulders that had threatened to choke him for weeks.
"Interpol was able to match the dental records against some acquired from a dentist that Roberts sought out after a bloody protest where he had a couple teeth knocked loose. They said that before his disappearance he had risen in the ranks of one of the largest undercover terrorist organizations in Western Europe, their territory spreading from Germany to France, the UK and even Spain. There are a couple hundred guys to that group, their actions having claimed the lives of at least sixty-seven people so far, all government officials, their directive being to destroy the corrupt leadership and create some weird form of anarchy. Roberts' main job in his position was as an explosives expert, his work having been traced to a couple dozen fires across Europe, his methods and accelerant use matching each time. They also match what we found in our cases."
"So, you are saying that James Oswald Roberts is Osorro?"
Mike's voice had been stripped of all previous emotion as he stared at the few pages of neatly written notes Steve had taken during his phone conversation, his fingertips tracing the individual words as if to suck the meaning right out of them.
"That's exactly what I am saying.", Steve returned matter-of-factly while keeping his voice low, taking a deep breath before dropping his chin to his chest, "It's a positive ID. It's over, Mike. We finally have proof that he did die in that fire."
Taking a moment to cover his mouth with the palm of his left hand, Mike fell completely still, his bright blue eyes glazing over as the information began to sink in.
Even though he'd hoped to see some sort of relief in his friend's expression, Steve settled on shock for the time being, giving Mike time to digest the news, in turn feeling the burden of worry drop off his shoulders and hopefully regain a small measure of peace sooner or later, a return to the normality they'd been robbed off since the warehouse fire.
For the longest time both men sat there in silence, contemplating the abrupt end to a case that had taken up so much of their time and nearly cost them their lives, a case that had spread a wave of fear and suspicion across the City by the Bay for months on end, that had now, so suddenly, come to a complete and unceremonious ending.
If there was one familiar thing he saw in Mike's eyes, it was the strange feeling of going from 100 mph to a complete standstill in a matter of a second.
The news, although desperately sought after, had caught them by surprise at the least likely time, and in return, was now causing a new, worrisome question to be thrown into the mix.
Steve could read it in his partner's glance without Mike having to pose it.
And just like that, with the latest fire at the Hall of Justice Building, there now was a distinct chance that San Francisco had a copycat on its hands.
