The one thing about New Yorkers, Flack reasoned as he made his way from the Federal Plaza to Central Park, was that you say the word bomb and they knew exactly what to do. It was a sad legacy of 9/11, but that legacy had saved a number of lives since - including at a street party a few years back he still didn't care to remember. This time the Feds were on the case as well - and considering the carnage they had seen tonight, he was glad they were here. Not that neither Coop nor Brustin weren't good cops, but truthfully he wasn't certain ianyone/i in the NYPD would have made the leap from a Son of Sam style serial killer to terrorist bomb plot in time otherwise.
And, from the reports he had been hearing over the radio about the bomb, it was barely in time at that.
Arriving at the scene at the park, he quickly looked around, using the light from the burning vehicle to see who he could recognize amongst the throng of law enforcement personnel milling around. With two bomb blasts within just hours of one another, he found he didn't care about official reports or whatnot - he just wanted to be certain that his friends were safe. Every NYPD vest that walked past him was carefully scrutinized, until he finally found a familiar face.
"You okay?" Angell asked after she made her way over. Her normally stylish hair looked like it had hastily been pulled back into a messy ponytail, with her bangs flopping against her soot covered cheek. Her clothes looked worse for the wear as well, a fine layer of soot and ash having settled over her.
"I'm fine. You?"
"Could be better, but it could have been a lot worse." She said as she rubbed at her shoulder a bit, looking over at the burning ambulance. "We got lucky, very lucky. Especially Agent Morgan."
"Morgan? Which one was he?" Flack asked, looking around the scene for the BAU agents that had been working the case. A black SUV drove up, with two people wearing vests designating them as FBI agents scrambling out and making their way past them to the ambulance on scene. There a tall black man was trying to shrug off medical attention, much to the displeasure of his newly arrived friends.
Angell watched them as well and shook her head with a smile. "Over there, he was the one driving the ambulance. He was lucky to get out in one piece and to get far enough away to avoid getting burned."
"Huh. Wai-" He turned and looked at her, then asked as he motioned to her sooty clothes. "Just how close were you? When it went off?"
"We were enroute to the hospital when we got the call the bomb was on the move and heading this direction." She pointed at down the street, "we were about a block out when the bomb went off. Far closer than I would have liked to be."
"Tell me about it," Flack muttered, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck.
"Hey," Angell bumped her shoulder against his, drawing his attention away from the memories. "You still with me?"
"Hmm? Yeah," he shot a grim smile at her as he absently noted the FBI agents were heading their direction now. The tall gangly one seemed to be talking very rapidly to the other two, waving his hands about while doing so. "You heard anything on Cooper yet?"
"He's out of the woods," she replied. "Brustin said he was failing miserably at trying to flirt with the nurses."
"Cooper? He's awake?" The female FBI agent broke in and asked.
"From what I've been told, he woke up this afternoon, Agent-"
"Prentiss." Agent Prentiss paused, then continued. "I'm the one that was with him when he was shot. How is his family doing?"
"They're hanging in there, probably at the hospital right now. Brustin said his wife has been helping them out, getting them back and forth to the hospital and so on." Flack looked more closely at the agent Jess had identified as Morgan, recognizing him from the Federal Plaza scene. "Has there been any word on your colleagues? The ones caught in the car bomb?"
"The doctor said that Hotch has acoustical trauma, as well as some cuts from shrapnel." Morgan said, shaking his head as he pulled out his cell phone. "Agent Joyner was in surgery last I heard."
"We should probably check on them both," the third agent said, "not that we don't want to stay and talk to you, but-"
"You need to check on your people," Angell finished for him. "We understand."
"Yeah," Morgan said, glancing one last time at the smoking ambulance before turning to go. "And I need to check in with Garcia."
"And check on Cooper," Prentiss said, looping her arm through the other agent's arm, pulling him along behind Morgan. "C'mon, Reid. Let's get back to the hospital."
"Looks like Jamieson caught this one," Flack told Angell, nodding over to the CSIs who had shown up and were talking to the detective in question. "We should get out of here before he ropes us in to help."
"You know he'd try to push his paperwork on us." She replied with a grin, which quickly fell. "Oh igawd/i, the paperwork."
"Don't remind me," he groaned as they started for his car. "It's going to take all night. At ileast/i."
"I hope not." Angell made her way to the passenger side, looking at him over the roof before opening the door. "I'm going to need a stiff drink by the time I'm done, and with our luck all the bars will be closed."
He laughed as he slid into his seat and started the car. "Don't worry, Jess. I think I know of a place we can get some irish coffee."
"You know, Don," she said with a smirk as she turned towards him. "I think I'm going to hold you to that."