For what it was worth, their idea of a food giveaway appeared to be a roaring success, judging by the crowded tables full of guys down on their luck, eagerly chomping away at their bowls and having conversations with each other.

Overall it looked to be a peaceful and enjoyable atmosphere, the level of consideration shown in the lines of people still waiting for food beating that of a line at a grocery store checkout any day.

Leaning against the brick wall inside the abandoned storefront, thankful that the big picture window had been removed, allowing for a better view, Steve exhaled slowly, his busy eyes tracing the rows of homeless men sitting down, trying to identify his partner amongst them to no avail.

Earlier, at the beginning of the event he'd seen Mike mingle with a group of four, doing the pleasant and genuine chit-chat he was so good at while subtly letting his eyes drift over all the new arrivals, undoubtedly scanning the crowds as well.

But once more people had started to flood the eating area, he'd lost sight of the Lieutenant, something that bugged Steve a lot more than he cared to admit.

For the third time in less than five minutes, he checked his wristwatch.

Another forty-five minutes to go on the event, less if they ran out of food. Now, with a line of people looping around the tables and onto the adjacent sidewalk, he had no clear sight of the big pots of chili, much less being able to see how much food was left.

Having to close the event down before their suspects would arrive would give him an ulcer, that much he was sure of.

Sighing at the depressing radio silence from all units in the vicinity, Steve reached into his pant pocket, retrieving a handful of sunflower seeds to chew on while he waited.

Like a squeaking wheel, his concern about Mike's undercover stint circled his mind relentlessly, effectively clouding his concentration.

He didn't like it.

Aside from his partner still suffering from the aftereffects of the warehouse fire, he didn't like seeing Mike exposed like that all over again. As the Lieutenant of Inspectors, he should be in the back, barking orders and assigning men, safely tucked away from any harm that could come from an undercover operation.

But instead, the Lieutenant had once again decided to grab the bull by the horns and quite literally thrown himself out there for everyone to see, all under the guise of doing intelligence work.

Unarmed.

Potentially too far away from any support should he get jumped in a nearby alley.

And no "don't-worry-about-it's" in the world could take that concern off his shoulders.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when the radio in his right hand came back to life.

"Inspectors 81, this is Patrol Unit 3-Charlie-65, come in please."

"This is Inspector's 8-1, go ahead, 3-Charlie-65.", Steve replied, his eyes returning to the mass of people a mere couple hundred feet away from his position, his leg leaning over to touch the binoculars sitting on the floor, more to assure him that they were there than expecting to use them.

"Inspector, we have a visual on your two suspects, just coming off Dolores and are now headed westbound on Chula Lane, two male Caucasians and a…a raccoon. On a leash."

"10-4, 3-Charlie-65. Patrol units, begin to circle in, covering a 1- block perimeter between Chula, 16th, Dolores and Church. Cover all exits in the area. Try to remain inconspicuous. Ground personnel will remain at corner of Chula and Abbey. Once suspects are done eating, we will move in to intercept."

An echo of 10-4's followed his command just as he saw Albert and Ricky appear from behind the cover of a few shade trees, casually strolling toward the crowds of homeless people in the adjacent parking lot.

Just as he'd been told, Linus, the over-weight emotional support raccoon walked right along, kept nearby with a purple leash, not raising any eyebrows from the people passing the couple.

Albert was much as Steve had envisioned him from Ivan Foster's description, which had been a lot more detailed than the sole piece of evidence R&I had been able to dig up. It merely included a few school pictures and a suspended driver's license due to non-payment of parking tickets.

The correlating address and charges were so old that nothing could be found in the apartment Neville had rented at the time, no forwarding address, no updated pictures, nada.

But, just as Ivan had said, Albert had pasty white skin, more weight on his body than he needed, the beginning of a double chin and a slight limp coming from his left foot.

He stayed unusually close to Rick, as though he was acting as his guardian.

From his distance, it looked as though both men were dressed fairly well, their clothes not showing any holes; Albert wearing a maroon cape and a thick sweater underneath, Rick was just in plain jeans and a dark blue turtleneck, occasionally fidgeting with his sunglasses as though the deteriorating frames had come loose.

Grasping the radio in his right hand tightly, Steve watched the pair plus raccoon head for the distribution table to get in line for the chili.

Now it was only be a matter of time before the net would finally close in on them.