Disclaimer: We don't own CSI:NY, if we did 5x25 wouldn't have happened, but it did so we are playing with the cards we have been dealt.

Notes: This is a new project for us; a collaboration between lily moonlight and Forest Angel. A case story, set a few months after 'Pay Up', that deals with the fallout from events of that fateful day in May, as a series of murders that leads the our characters into murky waters of politics and dirty dealings, and of course, plenty of danger... A whole team fic with Mac/Stella, DL and the possibility of romance developing for Flack as he begins to move on after Jess's death.

We also have no real idea how the UN works so have probably taken a few liberties with details, but this is fiction after all!

Chapter 1 - Call Out

Day: 1

Opening Scene: E47th Street Parking Garage

Time of Day: 3am

Month: Early September

Forthcoming Events: UN General Assembly & General Debate

Danny pulled the department SUV into the corner of the parking lot and got out, pulling his silver case with him and reaching back for a camera before closing the door and walking towards the heavily lit centre area. There were already uniformed officers standing guard, keeping back the few civilians who were milling around. The weather was hot and muggy, and the heat from the previous day still lingered around the dark parking lot. Outside there was a light breeze, but the enclosed space where Danny now found himself was stuffy, and he ran his hand through his hair, feeling the stickiness of the heat on his scalp. A few cars were left on basement level 3 most of them bearing diplomatic plates from the various nations who had offices in the vicinity. He saw Flack finish his conversation with a uniformed worker and headed in his direction.

"Flack, what have we got?"

"Dead male, around 35, Caucasian. Looks like he was stabbed a few times, the parking attendant found him about an hour ago, doesn't recognise him, but this guy is the night duty man and usually works midnight to 6 am."

"Any ID?" Danny asked as he shouldered the camera and began taking photos of the body and the silver sedan car next to it, careful to snap the diplomatic license plate should it be needed to help identify the victim or a suspect. He sighed. The Brass were going to be all over this one, so he hoped it would be easy to solve. Getting involved in Diplomatic Immunity and the political crap that went with it was something they all hated.

"Nothing so far and no briefcase or anything either, which you might've expected. I've got unis checking all dumpsters and trash bins in a five block radius."

"You realise where we are Flack?" Danny groaned, as he looked around them at the vehicles seeming to taunt him with their important plates. He snapped photos of all of them and their locations for reference purposes.

"Yeah, UN City. Five European representatives in the building across the street and dozens of others in that five block radius my guys are searching for this guy's ID. I sure hope he doesn't belong to one of them."

"Does Mac know?"

"Yeah, he's at another scene across town, said to keep him up on developments. If this turns political he wants to know before it hits the press."

"Around here that's going to be a tough call." Danny commented as he continued to process the body allowing Flack to step away to answer his phone. He returned a few minutes later.

"We may have something; they found a wallet in a trash can a couple of blocks over. I'm going to take a look. You OK here? Unis are on the perimeter."

"I'm fine. This guy's probably been here about 4 hours, he's just going into rigour, body temp puts TOD around 11 pm. I count 4 stab wounds, and several nasty bruises, some defence wounds. He put up a fight."

Flack nodded in acknowledgment and walked away. Danny watched him go, shaking his head slightly, knowing that his friend was far from okay himself.

-----

Outside the garage Flack met the officer and relieved him of the wallet which had been placed in a plastic bag. Pulling on a pair of gloves he pulled it out and opened it, finding a couple of credit cards and little else. He replaced them, took out his phone, and dialled a number.

"Mac... Yeah, it's Flack... Listen, you said you wanted to know if this got political... I got something you're not going to like. Our vic was carrying ID for the British Delegation to the UN. .... Yeah, Danny is still with the body in the garage. I'll pass on the guy's credentials then make some calls to the British Consulate, they'll have someone on call 24/7."

-----

Don was standing with his back to the body watching Danny load his SUV with the evidence, as the ME's van drew up and the staff jumped out to retrieve the body. A shout and flurry of footsteps caught their attention then and Don turned towards the assembled uniforms by the entrance.

"Sir you can't go over there, Sir!" A uniformed officer called as a young man pushed his way past. "Flack!" Flack looked up at the older, grey haired and rather rotund officer; he knew Watson from way back, he was close to retirement and had worked with his old man, which allowed for the informal greeting. 'Detective Flack' from the guys on the beat was too stuffy to his mind, although some of his counterparts got really pissed if they weren't addressed formally. As far as he was concerned they were all there to do the same job, even if his badge carried a few additional responsibilities.

He waved to the officer as he saw the geeky looking kid barging through the assembled crowd. "Alright Watson, I've got it." Flack called as he stepped in front of the intruder causing him to cease his approach to the body. "Sir, I need you to step back over there, this is a crime scene, can't you see the yellow tape?."

"I know, I was called. Roger Franklin, British Vice Consul. ... Is he really dead?" He asked peering around Flack as the ME's staff finally moved in to lift the body.

"Detective Flack, yes he is. What can you tell me about him?"

"Nothing really, you found his ID?"

"It was dumped a few blocks from here, are you able to formally identify him?"

"No, I never met him." He answered pushing his heavy rimmed glasses up his nose, then running his hand through his short cropped dark hair. Flack observed him for a moment. Franklin reminded him of Adam Ross, in the way of being slightly nerdy, but this guy was skinny with it. He was wearing an old pair of faded jeans and a Yankees sweatshirt that hung off his shoulders. He looked freaked and out of place. Flack wondered if he had ever seen a dead body before and he wasn't convinced this guy was going to be able to handle the shit which was heading their way.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Nothing really. Someone at the delegation will know, but they're not open until 9 am. I'm just here for emergencies."

"I'd say a British Diplomat being murdered outside the Delegation Office is a pretty big emergency wouldn't you?"

"I guess." Flack looked the guy up and down again. He estimated him to be in his early twenties, he didn't seem the sort to be out in the real world, more likely he should be stuck somewhere in research or behind a computer doing some routine job.

"Then I need some answers. What was this guy doing here at 11pm last night?" Franklin opened his mouth but Flack held up his hand. "Let me guess, You don't know. So tell me what you do know about Michael Stratton."

"Never heard of him, but we've got a lot of new people in town for the General Assembly, he could be one of them."

Flack sighed heavily. "Then I suggest you find me someone who does. If word on this gets out I don't think your Delegation will like hearing that one of their staff has been murdered on your watch."

Franklin looked around nervously. "Are you sure he's a diplomat?"

"His Delegation ID looked real."

".... Then I have to call the Metropolitan Police, they will want to send someone to help with the investigation."

"This is New York pal, it's our investigation and I need answers now. So are you going to give me what I want or do I have to wake up the Ambassador?"

"Well I guess I could call the Delegation Liaison Officer."

"That sounds like a very good idea. Ask him to bring a list of the British staff who are here and who may have been around the office last night between ten and midnight."

".. I'll have to wake them up."

"Yeah? Do it, some one woke me up to get me here to do my job." Don snapped.

The fact that he hadn't actually been sleeping was information he didn't want to share. But the truth was even nearly four months after Jess was shot he still wasn't sleeping properly. He was often plagued with the nightmares of carrying her from that diner, her blood pouring over him as he rushed her to the hospital in a vain attempt to save her life. His pleading and promises that she would be alright already empty words as her life drained away from the hole in her stomach. He knew it was bad when he had moved her jacket and seen all the blood leaking out of her. Knowing later that the weapon used had given her no chance of survival was cold comfort. It had haunted him too, the wondering if he had made the right decision in moving her, taking her to hospital himself without waiting for the ambulance. But he knew deep down that whatever choice he made, she had stood no chance. And none of it changed the fact that she was gone. She was gone and he missed her. He missed her like hell.

"Flack. ... Flack!" Danny called him insistently, seeing his friend losing the focus in his eyes for a moment. He felt relief as Don shook his head and looked around slightly dazed.

"What's up?" He looked round. "You seen that idiot I was talking to?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you said to him I thought he was going pee his pants. He's with Watson making some calls. .... Are you alright?"

"I'm fine .... you done here?"

Danny debated with himself for a moment whether he should say anything else. He knew his friend still claimed to be alright when anyone asked, but underneath he knew he wasn't. The off duty games of hoops, although sporadic when Jess was around, had stopped completely after she died. They didn't get together to watch the ball games and everything else along with that as they had done before. All Flack seemed to do was work and close himself off. He'd even been pretty quiet about the Rangers over the summer. Things were serious, however, the middle of a crime scene was not the place for Danny to raise his concerns so he merely nodded. "All packed up. You need me to hang around?"

"Give me 10 minutes? I'll see you up on the street."

"No problem." Danny walked away thinking that it was time to drag his friend back into the real world, that leaving him alone to mope was not helping anyone. Maybe he would talk to Stella, and ask for her advice; after all she had been there when Mac had lost his wife eight years earlier. The decision made him feel slightly more at ease as he got into the SUV ready to drive up to the street.

-----

Flack walked over to the group of uniformed officers as Franklin finished his call. The detective homed in on the young official. "You find someone who can answer the questions?"

"Um, yeah, she's on her way, she said we're not to touch anything or leave the scene until she gets here and says it's OK."

"That's not the way we work pal. This is our investigation, the body's on its way to autopsy and the evidence on its way to our labs for processing. We will be informing the Chief of Detectives and the Commissioner of the situation and there will be the proper liaison, but get this, no way do you run your own investigation. That's my job." Flack snapped at him. "We'll wait upstairs." He pointed towards the staircase at the side as the ME's van and Danny's SUV drove out. The last thing Flack wanted was some snooty Brit sticking her government's nose into the investigation. The few instructions she'd given Franklin to pass on grated and Flack decided that she had to be some fifty odd year old battle axe who was too officious for her own good and had probably never seen a dead body before.

Danny had parked his SUV and was waiting for Flack and the Vice Consul at the entrance to the parking garage, where they waited in silence for several minutes. Eventually the silence of the morning was broken by the drone of a motorcycle engine which drew closer at speed and slid to a halt in front of them. Franklin stepped forward and greeted the figure who dismounted. Danny and Flack ignored them in favour of giving the bike envious looks.

"See that Flack, it's a Ninja, I've heard about them, they're all the rage in Europe. Their version of the Harley."

"I see it." Flack looked over the royal blue paintwork with silver accents and black leather seat. "That's awesome."

"I've been called a few things in my time, but never sidelined in favour of my bike." A crisp British voice announced at their side. "Roger tells me I need to see the crime scene detective to answer some questions."

Danny and Flack both turned and were met with a vision of the British Official standing before them with her helmet tucked under her arm dressed from shoulders to toes in black leather. She was tall, elegantly built, with blonde hair, in a kind of bob reaching to her shoulders. For being woken and dragged out to meet them at 5am she looked remarkably alert. Neither of them had spoken and he heard an audible intake of breath from Flack as they stood side by side.

She tapped her foot on the pavement. "I assume you're detectives by your badges, can you please tell me who I need to speak to?" She asked sounding irritated.

"Flack, I'm going to leave you I need to get this evidence back to the lab. I'll catch you later."

"... Yeah, right." Flack sneered noting Danny was taking the easy way out. Flack rubbed his face as Danny wandered to his SUV. "Sorry, ... Detective Flack." He held out his hand as she pulled her gloves off and stuffed them in her helmet, then accepted his hand with a firm shake.

"Natalia Hunt, British Delegation Liaison Officer. How can I help?"

"I'm sorry to pull you down here, but we've got a situation. Can you tell me anything about Michael Stratton?"

"He's the Foreign Secretary's Assistant Private Secretary." She saw the confused look on Flack's face and huffed. "An aide to you. He arrived a week ago and will be going home with the delegation after the General Debate. What's the problem?"

"Your lackey there didn't tell you what went down here?"

"No, he just said there was some issue and NYPD were demanding to speak to someone about the delegation. Can we get to the point please detective, because if I have to do damage limitation over some high pranks let me know so I can work on it before the morning briefing."

"Franklin! ... Roger, Come here a minute." Flack beckoned to the Vice Consul who was loitering several feet away. He shuffled over looking between the Liaison Officer and the detective. "You didn't tell her why we needed to talk?" Flack stated, his face inches from the young man's.

"Ah, no, I uh figured you could explain it better than me." Franklin mumbled incoherently. Natalia noticed the tension and gave the Vice Consul a way out of the situation.

"Roger, I think you'd better go get yourself some breakfast and see me in my office at 8 am to go over your report before the morning briefing with Sir John." Roger turned several shades of red before making his escape from Flack who turned to the woman.

"Ms Hunt, Michael Stratton is dead. He was murdered here last night. I don't think it was the result of high pranks as you put it." Flack snapped at her. "What was he doing here?"

".. Michael's dead? Are you sure?"

Flack was so furious he failed to see the flicker of emotion that ran over her face, or the shock in her voice. "Not you too... Yeah, he's dead."

"That's a little harsh detective, I realise you can't tell me everything but if you want me to help you, I need a little more information." She snapped back. Her blue eyes glaring at him.

".. Like I pointed out to Franklin this is an NYPD investigation. Diplomatic or otherwise you have no formal input."

"No, but you want access to information about the movements last night of one of our people and for that we need to work together." She replied curtly.

"I don't need you to co-operate I can just walk in with a warrant for what I need."

"And create a diplomatic incident in the process which I know won't impress your superiors or mine. ... Can I see the crime scene?"

"It's pretty bad."

"I can handle it Detective, I'm sure I've seen a lot worse. ... Do you also need a formal identification of Michael's body?"

"Our ME would. ... Are you sure about the scene?"

"Definitely."

Flack nodded and lead the way to the crime scene. She stood staring at the blood for a few minutes while Flack did the opposite, the sight of blood now, any blood, always brought back images of Jess and his discovery of the gaping hole in her side. He waited with his back to her while she studied the area, he wasn't concerned about her contaminating the scene as Watson was standing with them watching her.

"Detective, was a briefcase recovered?" She asked finally as she returned to his side.

"No, nothing except his wallet, which was probably tossed by the perp as he made his escape."

"He would have carried a briefcase." She frowned, "He shouldn't have been down here, he doesn't have a car, it's walking distance to the hotel, so I'm confused."

"Would he have got a lift from someone?"

"No, he was the last one in the office when I left around 10.30."

"So you would be the last one to see him alive?"

"Almost, we have a security officer on duty 24/7 and he would have been the last unless Michael ran into someone on the way out, which is possible."

"I'll need the name and address of the security guard."

"He'll still be at the office, but if you question him I get to be there to protect his interests." She answered firmly.

"I could just take him down town and question him there, no need for your presence at all." Flack replied. He knew he was being difficult and off handed, but he didn't care. Something about the whole incident was chewing out his insides and he couldn't grasp what it was. Things always went bad when Diplomatic Immunity was involved.

"Fine! Just try it, we'll scream immunity to everyone up your chain of command. I suggest you get your head in the game Detective, I don't want your investigation, I know we have no standing, but you can't do everything alone either, I can help grease the wheels with the delegation, which can only be to your advantage. All I'm asking for is some professional courtesy." She flung at him angrily, before turning on her heel and walking off towards her bike. A few steps on, she stopped and turned round, a softer tone in her voice, "Just think about it, all right?"

Flack grunted non-commitally, and felt bitter with himself as he deliberately avoided looking at her while she gave him a long and considered stare. Eventually she shrugged and turned away to wheel her bike into the garage. Dragging his phone from his pocket, and trying to ignore the feeling that he might just have royally screwed up, he punched in a familiar number and rubbed his chin whilst he waited for his call to be answered. "Mac. ... Yeah. It's started and we're already in the thick of it. We need to talk, I'll be heading your way after a visit to the Delegation Office. If Stell's about, tell her to join us. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you're not going to like what I've got to tell you. ... I'll give you all the details when I get there." He wasted no time in signing off pleasantries, instead he ended the call with a stab of his finger, shoved his phone back in his pocket and strode off towards the building across the street where the Liaison Officer had gone a moment earlier. The day had started badly, and was showing no sign of getting any better.

Please review and let us know what you think! We'd love to know. Reviews help fuel the writing process, and we'll try and post the next chapter soon. Also, check out our individual stories. Thank you, lily and Forest