The early evening hours were turning the underground garage of the Hall of Justice building into a madhouse, as patrolmen and detectives alike either arrived for their shift, or got ready to finish it.
Mike stood by the security gate for many long moments, watching the comings and goings absent-mindedly, waiting for a certain tan Galaxy to appear amongst the assortment of patrol cars and private vehicles rushing past the chain-link fence like racecars.
Armed with new information, they'd briefed everybody involved about the missing AK-47, the possible tie to the shooting at the nightclub, and the gunman who was still at large, and thus far couldn't be tied to Carigio.
Whether the same held true for Flick was a mystery he couldn't wait to dig into.
That was, if Steve would finally show up.
Even before calling dispatch, Mike had quickly found out about the brawl, then immediately checked the last time the young Inspector had checked in before leaving Flicks house to return to headquarters. It was the time in between his 10-20's, a whopping four hours, that seemed both intriguing and excessive for the quest he'd sent Steve on- unless the young Inspector uncovered something significant related to their case.
The thought of a powerful gun in the wrong hands of a man still at large, a man who'd already murdered sixty-four innocent people and could very well do so all over again sent chills down his back. And the fact that they didn't have as much as a file photo was even more bothersome.
It was a concern he'd shared with Olsen and Conden after his interview with Carigio, both men agreeing to keep a tight seal on his findings for now, for fear of encouraging the shooter to strike again, or dump the weapon and leave town altogether.
Although Mike understood their viewpoint, it bothered him that the same AK-47 that had already been used in a mass shooting, could circulate the city unbeknownst to them, move owners and worse yet, disappear off the face of the earth.
As a pivotal piece of evidence in their case, he couldn't bear to let that happen.
He was pulled out of his deep thoughts when the shadow of the tan Galaxy passed him by, before the large sedan pulled into an open spot next to one of the oversized white pillars.
Smiling subconsciously, Mike walked past the wire gate and into the open of the underground garage toward his partner's latest whereabouts.
By the time he arrived next to the Galaxy, Steve was busy gathering his belongings in a hurry, so rushed that he never noticed his partner's presence until Mike cleared his throat.
"I was beginning to get worried about you."
Flinching slightly, Steve nodded and draped his beige overcoat over his left arm, before facing the Lieutenant, his eyes weary, the left side of his face sporting a sizeable bruise.
"I tried to call you but the phone booth by Hank's apartment was broken. So, I 10-20'ed, hoping you'd get the message."
"Oh, I got the message. That, and then some…", Mike joked and reached for his partner's chin, before tilting his face to the side to get a better look at the wound.
"There was a brawl in front of Hank's place. I got dispatched before I got to his apartment. I had to take the call.", the young Inspector explained apologetically and tried to pull his face away to no avail.
"Never mind all that. Seargent Davis already called and told me about the incident. What did you find out from Hank?"
Letting go of his chin, Mike followed his young partner back to the entrance gate, their pace slow, downright dreadful when it came to returning to the bullpen.
"Well…in a nutshell, he showed me all his insurance paperwork, even some letters where he and Barry discussed things in case either one of them were to die prematurely. Although I can't speak for the authenticity, it's definitely not Hank's handwriting and the letters are dated several years ago, when they first got together. Seems that Barry had a premonition that he was going to die by the hands of some…narrow-minded bigot."
"Now, wait a second.", Mike urged and grabbed his partner's arm to stop him just before they reached the elevators, "Don't you make the mistake of assuming anything until we get some proof of what's going on here. We still don't know who stormed into that nightclub and fired at these people. And we don't know if it was some lone gunman, or a hired killer. Right now, we don't even know if he targeted the club because it was a gay club, or because of some alternate agenda we haven't uncovered yet. Don't start making assumptions just because of the…the vast assortment of characters we've come across so far from both sides of that fence."
The stern reprimand and ensuing pause seemed to reach his intended target when Steve nodded obediently, then exhaled slowly.
"Well, no matter how this plays out, from my professional perspective, I honestly don't think that Hank hired a killer to attack the nightclub. He has an airtight alibi for the night of the shooting and I am certain the forensic accountants won't come up with anything that will incriminate him. As a matter of fact, he's planning on using a large part of the insurance payout on the nightclub to donate toward a memorial for the victims. Regardless which side of the fence anybody is on, and who ultimately is responsible for this massacre, I just ruined a good friendship over this case and I sure hope that in the end, it was worth it."