Continued thanks on the feedback and the 'follows', etc. I really appreciate it. Sorry the chapters are so short. Here's the next part - and I hope you enjoy.
"Aw, c'mon, Roy, benching Mike? Can you imagine how that would have played out? He'd be furious." Steve asked.
"We were lucky that someone wasn't hurt, Steve. You know that. He could have been killed. Or you. I know you were following him and I'm going to wager a bet that there was no dispatch communication between you too, was there?"
Steve quietly shook his head.
Roy continued, "Or, you tell me – Mike's questioning of our suspects – remember there was the one who gave you the lead on Fisher. What was his name?"
"Jarvis, Harry Jarvis," Steve responded quietly.
"We're lucky Mike didn't beat the hell out of him. And we're lucky he didn't press charges on Mike for roughing him up the way he did. It could have been so much worse."
Steve sat quietly, thinking about the trouble Mike could have found himself in if only things panned out just only slightly differently than they had. After all, Mike drew on him in the tunnel. Mike had no idea that Steve was even at the train station. And yes, Mike had chased down Harry Jarvis and he did find both on the rooftop of a neighboring building. He saw Mike starting to press Jarvis, not willing to listen to Jarvis at all. Steve wondered what would have happened if he hadn't arrived when he did.
"So, Roy…what are you thinking? You're not going to go to Olsen now, are you?"
Roy sat quietly, thinking for a moment and taking the last drag from his cigarette before tamping it out. He looked at Steve, then finished off his can of soda.
"Keller!" the counter help called out louder than necessary. "Your Reubens are ready."
The callout jarred both the men with Steve noticeably flinching. He walked over to the counter, grabbed the bag with the sandwiches. He sat back down, studying Roy's face.
"Well?"
"I don't know, Steve. The more I think about what could have happened and how far off base Mike was on this case, the more I think something needs to be done."
"Yeah, but Roy. Going to the top brass? Are you sure?"
"Hell, no I'm not sure, Steve Baby," Roy answered and then began tapping his fingers on the table. "No, I'm not, but I will tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to take Mike out for a beer or two tonight and see if I can get him to decompress some. Then I will see if I can deliver a message through that thick Slavic skull of his. If I can't, well….I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
Steve allowed himself a slight smile. "Well, I wish you the best of luck with that Roy. Tell you what, I'll head back with our 'dinner' here and maybe in a couple of hours, based on the reports, we'll be able to call it a night."
"Do you want to come with us?" Roy asked hesitantly.
"No way! I think I'll head home and get to bed early tonight. I think I'm going to need all the rest I can get for tomorrow if you aren't able to get through to him." Steve quickly looked up at the clock. "And I better get back with his food. You don't want to deal with a Mike Stone whose Rueben is delayed. Not even on his best days!"
Roy chuckled. "You'd better go on ahead. If Mike is looking out the window wondering where his food is, I don't think it's a good idea us being seen together.
With that, Steve grabbed the sandwiches, winked at Roy and hustled out the door before he turned. "Thanks, Roy." Steve could now breathe a bit better knowing that a trusted peer could take Mike aside and talk this out without involving senior management.
Roy stayed behind for several minutes, deciding to partake in a second cigarette in the meantime. "Oh Mike, this had better go well," he whispered to himself. With that, he threw a dollar on the table and headed back to the office.