Steve inhaled deeply through his nose, trying not to move. The cold smooth metal pressed behind his right ear shifted slightly; he heard a soft rustling sound as a hand came up and took the .38 from his grip.

"You really ought to be more careful, you know. I mean, you gotta look in your own rearview mirror once in a while," the deep voice purred, surprising him with a tinge of humour.

Steve turned his head slowly to see Bobby Cox grinning at him, holstering his own .38 as he held Steve's out to him, shaking his head and chuckling.

"What the hell…?" the homicide inspector asked in a loud whisper, exhaling loudly as he took his gun back. He looked over Cox's shoulder; he couldn't see anybody else. "Were you following me?"

Cox chuckled. "Well, Cole and I were actually following Danny… you sorta got in the way."

"You were following Danny? I didn't see you."

"Well, you weren't expecting to see us, were you? Besides, you aren't the only great tail-er in the department." Cox looked over his shoulder. "Come on, Cole's back there," he said, gesturing with his head back towards the south end of the marina. He turned, looking quickly all around before leaving the cover of the Suburban and heading back in the direction he had come.

With a quick glance over his shoulder at the Mustang, Steve followed, his heart pounding, more from embarrassment than tension he acknowledged.

Cole Harrison was sitting behind the wheel of a maroon Galaxie, staring through the windshield across the parking lot towards the boats. He didn't even glance over as Cox got into the front seat beside him, Steve in the back.

"Anything?" Cox asked and Harrison shook his head.

"He got onto that red and yellow boat right there," the black undercover cop said slowly, pointing through the windshield, "and as far as I can tell, he's alone. He disappeared into the cabin and he hasn't come out yet."

"Think he's waiting for someone?"

"Well, it doesn't look like he's getting the boat ready to head out yet, so… maybe…?"

Harrison looked in the rearview mirror. "Hi, Steve, welcome to Operation Slow Boat to China." His deep baritone laughter filled the car. "Oh, ah, thanks for being so easy to tail…!" he chuckled evilly, shaking his head.

"Ha ha ha," Steve muttered sarcastically, "I really wasn't expecting you, you know. I thought –"

"You thought maybe we didn't notice that Danny wasn't in the bar?" Cox interrupted, turning in the front seat to face him, his eyes wide and questioning, his tone light and playful. "We're not rookies, you know."

Steve smirked, knowing they were giving him a hard time in jest.

"Besides, weren't you told to stay in the car?"

"I was in the car," the homicide inspector shot back, pointing over his shoulder towards the first parking lot where the LTD was parked. "Nobody ever said I couldn't take the car."

"Unh-hunh, and that stroll up Palm? Oh, ah, like the new look, by the way."

"Yeah, I wouldn'ta recognized you right away if I'd only seen you in that beard," Harrison added, watching his younger colleague in the rearview mirror again.

Realizing that he wasn't going to win this little battle, and that Cox and Harrison had been following him since he spotted Danny near Coopers, Steve sighed and slumped in the seat, chuckling dryly and shaking his head. "So, ah, so what's the battle plan?"

Cox glanced at Harrison, as if trying to make up his mind about sharing their strategy with the young inspector. Harrison chuckled and Cox sighed. "Well, we're not sure if Danny is meeting anyone here. But the Coast Guard is on standby in case we need them, in case he heads out to sea on that thing. For now, we're just going to sit here and see if he's meeting up with anybody else. If things stay quiet for awhile, we may have to move in." Cox looked over the back of the seat again. "And by we, I mean Cole and me. You're still on the bench, remember?"

Steve sighed loudly but continued to meet Cox's smiling eyes. "How did it go at the bar?"

"Smooth as fine scotch," Harrison chuckled again. "They didn't know what hit 'em."

"Yeah, we just strolled into Coopers and pulled out our stars and everyone's hands just shot into the air. It was almost like they were expecting us."

"And the bodega?"

"Gary and Kyle were right about that, no doubt about it. We didn't get a chance to see it ourselves," Cox answered, gesturing towards Harrison, "'cause when we noticed Danny wasn't there, and going off what Mike said about him, we headed back out on the street. One of the guys in Coopers finally told us his last name and we got his plate and car make from R&I…. before you did," he finished with a laugh.

Steve rolled his eyes, bobbling his head with a snort.

"Kind of an easy car to spot, ain't it?" Harrison asked with a deep chuckle, staring into the rearview mirror once again.

This time Steve joined in the laughter. "Sure made my life easier," he grinned. "So, ah, the bodega… What was going on there? A false wall between the two buildings?"

Cox shook his head, continuing to stare at the red and yellow boat. "Not a wall, a door, can you believe it? From what we've heard, they have this big room down there, like a cold storage, but it's full of hooks dangling from the ceiling and rings bolted to the wall, sort of like the hold. Looks like they can keep fifteen, twenty guys in there. Brutal."

Steve shivered involuntarily; Mike had been tied up and drugged senseless in there for over a day. He sat up a little straighter in the back seat and stared through the window. More than ever he wanted to get his hands on Danny, to get a little justice for his partner.

"So, ah," he began tentatively, "do, ah, do Gary or Kyle know I'm here?"

Cox turned in the seat again, looking straight into the younger man's eyes. "You mean did we rat on you?"

Steve could see Harrison looking at him in the rearview mirror. He nodded slightly.

Cox smiled. "No. Now they may have noticed that the LTD is gone by now and figured out what happened… but Cole and I haven't said a word."

Steve stared at him expressionlessly then nodded gratefully. "Thanks, I, ah, I appreciate that."

"Hey," Harrison said quietly, "we all have partners, Steve." His eyes locked with the homicide inspector's for a couple of seconds, then snapped back towards the windshield. "Bobby…"

All three turned their attention back to the fishing trawler that Danny Donaldson was hiding on. There was movement on the deck. A dark-haired head had poked out of the cabin door but at this distance they couldn't tell if it was Danny or not. Whoever it was was looking towards the pier. No one in the car moved. They were far enough away to be pretty certain they wouldn't be spotted, but they also didn't want to call attention to themselves.

The head disappeared back inside the cabin and the cops relaxed. Cox looked at Harrison. "I think he's waiting for someone."

"So do I."

All three settled back on the seats, prepared to wait as long as necessary.

# # # # #

It was just after six when Captain Rudy Olsen pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped quietly into the hospital room. The lights had been dimmed.

The occupant of the bed was in a deep sleep, his chest rising and falling with a comforting regularity. Olsen had spoken with the attending nurse before he'd entered. He knew his lieutenant was still battling the sedatives that remained in his system and would most likely be out for the remainder of the night.

But he had also been told that Mike's fluids were back to normal and he no longer needed the IV, and that he would indeed be released in the morning. So the news on this front was the best that it could be.

He stared down at his old friend, grateful that things were turning out as well as could be expected. Both Mike and Steve had taken a risk using themselves as bait, and though the younger man had come of it with the more serious injuries, both of their lives had been on the line.

'Where is Steve?' the captain wondered idly. He would have bet his last dollar that the young inspector would be keeping vigil at his partner's bedside. These two were like that.

With a facial shrug, he gently patted Mike's leg and turned slowly to leave the room.

# # # # #

"Heads up," Bobby Cox hissed, turning slightly as something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

A sky-blue Plymouth Duster was approaching from behind on their right and all three cops slouched in the seats. It was getting close to dusk; all of the tourists had left for the day. The only foot traffic on the wharf was boat owners returning from a day on the water, but even they were thinning out. There were no lights on inside the cop car and they were nowhere near any of the light standards; they were pretty confident they hadn't been noticed.

The Duster continued down the pier and pulled into a spot very close to the Mustang. They saw the dome light snap on as the driver's door opened and someone got out. The light went out when the door closed and the driver crossed around the back of the sports car, headed towards the red and yellow trawler.

Cox and Harrison looked at each other. "I think that's our cue," Cox said, inhaling deeply and raising his eyebrows. As he reached for the door handle, he looked towards the back seat, meeting Steve's eyes. "You stay here, do you hear me? We're gonna catch enough flak for allowing you to follow Danny and then to stay here with us. Don't make our lives any more difficult right now than they already are, okay?"

Steve stared into the intense dark eyes for several long beats then he nodded, briefly closing his eyes. "I'll stay."

"Good man. We'll be right back. And we just might let you beat the crap out of Danny and tell the brass he tried to run. How does that sound?" Cox was halfway out the door.

Steve allowed himself a laugh. "That sounds like a great idea. Be careful," he ordered as the doors closed and he watched Cox and Harrison unholster their .38's, both of them checking the cylinders, an unnecessary but reflexive habit a lot of cops had.

The undercover officers hugged the back bumpers of the cars and trucks still parked along the pier side of the wharf, their eyes glued to the newcomer. The Duster driver had approached the trawler and they watched him walk down the short pier to the boat and step aboard.

Steve watched as Cox and Harrison cautiously approached the trawler. They were just about to step onto the pier when headlights suddenly shining through the back window illuminated the Galaxie. He ducked quickly, raising his head slightly as the large black sedan sped into the parking lot and slid to a stop on the gravel road about fifty feet ahead of him, kicking up dust.

The door of the black sedan flew open and a big, dark-haired man got out swiftly. In the dim glow from the dome light, Steve could see a large, long barreled revolver in the man's hand and, as he strode rapidly towards the pier, he raised it. And, for a split second, Steve was sure he saw a silencer being screwed onto the barrel.

Looking over the front seat at the radio, Steve contemplated calling for back-up but knew he didn't have the time. He opened the back door and slid out quickly, shutting it as quietly as he could to turn the dome light off.

Running as silently as possible, following the big man towards the trawler, he unsnapped his own .38 from his belt and held it up. Cox and Harrison were nowhere to be seen; he assumed they were now on the trawler with Danny and the Duster driver, unaware of the third man with the large caliber firearm rapidly approaching.

Knowing he was out of time, he broke into a run, no longer worried that his footfalls would be heard all around the now quiet marina. Lives were at stake, and that was all that mattered.