1. Not-So-Average Day at the Office
The computer gave a satisfied sigh and a beep of farewell as it shut off. Snatching his keys off the desk, Danny grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and began to make his way out of the maze of darkened cubicles that made up the Missing Persons Division of the FBI. He was three feet from the door when something caught his eye. Brow wrinkling, he backtracked, staring with confusion at what he'd spotted.
The bags under Martin's eyes were deep in the glow from his computer screen, deeper than Danny had ever seen them. Three or four empty mugs and the smell of fermenting coffee surrounded his partner, giving him the impression he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. With a sigh, Martin set his pencil down on his desk and rubbed his eyes, massaging his temples as if suffering from a headache- not an unlikely story. He jumped when Danny's voice broke the silence.
"And they say I'm the one who breathes caffeine."
Collecting himself, Martin gave a weak grin. "Hey."
Walking over, Danny scanned the computer screen, recognizing the format of a medical file. "What're you still doing here?"
With a movement surprisingly fast for his seemingly half-conscious state, Martin closed out of the program before his partner could see. "Nothing. It's nothing. I just wanted to… check some things out." He rubbed at his eyes again, then gestured at Danny. "Why are you here?"
"You know me. I'm nocturnal." Danny's grin faded. "You okay? You seemed a little off today."
For a moment, Martin hesitated, a mix between pain and fear making it into his eyes. Then the emotion faded, and he waved the question off. "Yeah, sure. I'm fine."
Danny, too, held his position for an extra second, regarding Martin with concern. "Do you need a ride?"
Thinking for a minute, Martin shot him one of those smiles that melted hearts… and opened mouths. "Sure. That'd be great."
Twenty minutes later, they were cruising down one of the back roads of southern Manhattan to Martin's apartment. Both of them were silent, though the rain pounding on the windshield seemed to have quite a bit to say. Martin shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, staring out the window into the dark with a dead expression. Danny spoke as quietly as he could without losing his voice to the rain.
"Seriously, what's up with you? You didn't even talk to Sam today, and don't think I don't know about that, because I do, and it seems to me as if something's eating you."
Turning his head to stare at his partner for a moment, Martin sighed. "It's nothing. It's just… something with my father." He paused, and then looked back out the window. "I'm trying to open a case on him."
The cracking of Danny's neck as he spun to stare at his partner was even louder than the rain. "What? You-"
He stopped just in time to observe the black SUV halt lengthwise across the road in front of them, closing off any chance of escape. With a swear, Danny swerved to the right so they skidded to a halt at an angle to the opposing car.
Then the world exploded.
Spit out by machine guns, the bullets quickly ate up the exterior of the car. The windshield and side windows shattered on impact, spraying them with shards of glass. Danny yelled in pain as Martin's hand, no doubt trying to push his head out of sight, accidentally slammed it into the dashboard. He felt blood running through his hair, stinging his eyes, but he stayed down. The carnage continued for another half a minute, the car shaking as tires popped and bullets found their mark. Then the shooting stopped, and for a moment, all was silent.
It was all Danny could do to maintain a grip on the world as car doors slamming and footsteps announced the approach of at least three guys. As they drew near, he tried to focus on their conversation, though their rapid Spanish would have been hard to understand even when he hadn't just been shot at and his brain was functioning correctly.
"Ah, estos dos no son tan guapos como el último, verdad?"
Ah, these two aren't as cute as the last one, yes?
"Esto no va de lo guapos que son. Esto es acerca de lo importantes
son."
It's not about how cute they are. It's about how important they are.
"Cierto. Ahora, a cuál de ellos dijo?"
Right. Now which one did he say?
"No lo dijo. Se suponía que había sólo uno."
He didn't. There was only supposed to be one.
"Cojamos a este." Let's take this one. Someone pushed him upright. "El tiene menos heridas." He's less damaged.
"No por mucho tiempo." Not by much.
"No." The tone was authoritative, establishing the man's leadership. "Éste. Él necesita a este. Le reconozco." This one. He needs this one. I recognize him.
One of them protested, and Danny's stomach turned to ice at his words. "Espero que no le necesite por mucho tiempo. Parece que nos hemos entusiasmado un poco, verdad?" Hope he doesn't need him for long. Looks like we got a bit carried away, yes?
The leader replied without hesitation, borderline irritated. "No. Éste parece fuerte. Con una herida como esa, yo le daría un día como mucho." No. This one looks strong. With a wound like that, I'd give him a day. Noting his colleagues' hesitation, his voice became more severe in volume. "Mira, él dijo que quiere a uno. Le llevamos a este. Ahora vámonos antes de que alguien venga." Look, he said he wants this one, we bring him this one. Now let's go, before someone comes.
Amid a mixture of grumbling and words of assent, Danny heard them extracting Martin from the cruiser, as well as the loud thump when something of considerable mass hit the pavement. Then the leader spoke again.
"Deshazte del coche. No necesitamos que alguien lo encuentre." Get rid of the car. We don't need someone to find it.
"¿Qué hacemos con el otro?" What about the other one?
"Déjale. No le necesitamos." Leave him. We don't need him.
Car doors slammed, and an engine roared. It took three solid hits to push the car past the overhang; after that, gravity took hold. The ground and the sky took turns being on top as the car flipped once, then twice. Danny was tossed around like a rag doll, lacking both the energy and organization to do anything else. Finally, the car groaned, coming to a halt on its side. A few isolated noises, and then screeching tires marked the thugs' getaway. Everything was quiet again.
With a moan and a sigh of defeat, Danny laid his head back against the headrest and let the world dissolve slowly into darkness.