CHAPTER NINE

AN: I am totally disregarding eppy The Thing About Heroes. Bold writing indicates Mac's writing in the last part of the chapter. On with the story!

It had been a long night and with the dawn of a new day came renewed hope.

After processing what they could, the rest of the team had gathered at the hospital in the late hours of Thursday night to await news on their boss and friend.

Relief arrived in the form of a tall middle-aged doctor with the beginnings of gray hair by the name of Dr. Sevan. Asking for a Stella Bonasera as Mac's emergency contact, he explained to the concerned group, but mostly to the worried curly-haired woman that Detective Taylor was going to be just fine.

The bullet had entered the left side and lodged in the tissue of the left lung, causing it to collapse, but otherwise did no further damage. It never came near any vital organs and that Detective Taylor's vital signs remained stable throughout the operation. There was some blood loss, but again, nothing serious, requiring no further transfusions during surgery. He was not awake yet, however. Dr. Sevan went on to explain the surgery he'd had to perform with only Hawkes really understanding his words.

All in all, Detective Taylor was expected to awaken and recover with no unforeseen complications. Dr. Sevan estimated that his recuperative time to be around one-to-two weeks. Understanding that Detective Taylor was shot on the job, he handed the bullet over to a relieved and determined Danny.

Seeing the tiredness in his friend's eyes, Hawkes promptly snatched the evidence bag containing the bullet out of Danny's hand and then ordered Flack to take the man home. Flack, with his amusement evident, silently agreed with the good doctor, and pushed Danny out of the hospital, despite his protests. As the two arrived at his apartment, Danny was already falling asleep in the car. With a joke about whether Danny wanted him to tuck him in or not, Flack laughed and headed back to the hospital.

Hawkes had left for the lab, leaving Stella and Flack to silently watch over Mac. In a brief moment and to possibly satisfy his curiosity, Flack inquired whether they should notify the final member of their close-knit team. Stella shook her head and shrugged to answer his unvoiced question when she had told him that perhaps it would be better to tell Lindsay later, that she didn't want to heap more stress on the woman.

"Sorry man, you been here all night?" Danny looked apologetic as he walked into the break room Friday morning to get his first cup of coffee, spotting Hawkes in rumpled clothes sitting at one of the tables.

Hawkes waved a dismissive hand. "I took a little nap awhile ago; it's fine. I got the report on the bullet and the newspaper clipping as well as Mac and Stella's Jane Doe. You okay?" he added as Danny let out a small groan and flexed his back as he sat down at the table.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My couch is not all that comfortable to sleep on." Hawkes wanted to ask why he slept on his couch when he had a perfectly good bed, but with one look at Danny, Hawkes firmly, but reluctantly, closed the door on that thought. "Whaddya' got?"

Pushing a folder Danny's way, Hawkes recited, "Let's start with the newspaper. The blood on it is an identical match to the Jane Doe of Mac and Stella's case. Unfortunately, we still don't know who she is. Her purse hasn't been found, no hits in AFIS or CODIS, and no one's filled a missing person's report. Angell flashed her picture around afterwards at the two rental offices and other nearby places, but no one knows her.

"Sid's report yielded little information. Jane Doe was shot once in the head, died instantly, followed by a shot to the heart. She was already dead when her killer started to carve her stomach."

"Who does that? And why shoot her again in the heart?" Danny wondered, his eyes scanning the pictures.

Hawkes shrugged. "Personal anger? Careful study of the carving indicates it was made with a small flat scalpel."

"Doctor's?"

"No, more like an artisan's scalpel. You know, the kind that they used to sculpt clay, a craft knife. Easily bought in any specialty art store of which there are over thirty listed in New York; there could be more. No trace found on her except a small gray synthetic fiber collected off her hair. Adam's running it now. Jane Doe showed no signs of struggle, no drugs detected in her bloodstream."

"So she was surprised by her killer or didn't see it coming."

"Stomach contents revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Some news though, is that the bullets pulled from our Jane Doe are a match to the one Mac was shot with. Unfortunately," Hawkes sighed, "it's a standard .22 long rifle caliber."

Danny suppressed another groan. It was still morning, he was still on his first cup of coffee, and already his day looked like crap. "Which is one of the most widely used common ammunition out there. Fits into numerous different rifles, handguns, you name it." He frowned. "That type of ammunition though, it's mostly used for plinking, recreational shooting, or small game, like squirrels and stuff. Why would our killer/shooter use that?"

"Low cost, minimal recoil, low noise, accuracy's good, not exceptional," Hawkes ticked off his fingers. "Not to mention that it can be fired using lightweight, easily concealable handguns and that it's widely-distributed," he pursed his lips, "I'd say it's a pretty convenient gun to pick up."

Taking a sip from his cup, Danny mused, "The range on this thing is what, 490 feet? You'd have to be pretty close to inflict some serious damage."

"Actually, I checked and if you were a good shot, you could kill a coyote at 65 yards."

"Okay yeah, but there's a big difference between a coyote and a human being." Danny got up and rinsed his cup. "The only thing we really know is that these two cases are connected. Anything else?"

Hawkes stood up. "Only that besides the blood, there's nothing else on the newspaper. The scotch-tape can be bought anywhere, no fingerprints." He picked up the folder.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Danny began walking out the door. "Let's go back to the scene. Now that we know the make of the bullet and where it entered Mac's body, we can determine exactly where it was fired."

"You searched the place thoroughly already."

Danny blew air through his lips. "Well, it's about one of the only things we've got." The two began walking towards the elevators. "What about Mac's cell phone?" Yesterday, when he'd heard that some crazy stalker was phoning his boss and friend and had been even in England, Danny's natural reaction to anybody threatening his friends was anger. And now Mac had been shot. This bastard was going down.

Pushing the elevator button, Hawkes shook his head. "Still working on it. Although, since Flack already tried, I don't know how well it'll go this time around."

It was ten in the morning when Mac opened his eyes to see Stella sleeping in a chair by his bed, loosely clutching his hand. The quiet beep of his heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Taking a moment, he let his mind recall the last events that ending up with him in the hospital. Someone had shot him. A grayish paper taped to a window with red stains. Stella's voice shouting his name.

Lying there, Mac mentally assessed his injuries and then tried to move his hands and toes, waking up Stella in the process. He watched as her green eyes lit up.

"Hey." She stood, in rumpled blood-dried clothes, grasping his hand. Realizing that she had probably not left the hospital since he was admitted, Mac thanked her by squeezing her hand, due to the tubes in his mouth."How are you feeling?" He tried to smile around the tubes.

"The doctor said that you're going to be fine. No major damage and that you should be back to normal in a week or two." He squeezed her hand again. "The doctor said that even though you wouldn't be able to talk because of the tubes which are only there to help keep your collapsed lung expanded in order to heal, you can still write. Here." She handed him a pad of paper and a pen from the side table.

Shooter?

"Danny and Hawkes are still working on it. Hawkes called me earlier, but he hasn't found anything yet. No suspect has been apprehended." Stella paused. "Mac, I think it may be that person who has been calling you." She explained further as his eyes sharpened. "While you were being loaded into the EMS, your phone rang. I answered and it was him."

Precise words.

"'Detective Taylor's not having a good day, is he?' was what he said. I gave your phone to Angell to hand over to lab to try to find out. I know Flack already tried, Mac," Stella hurried, seeing him shake his head. "But we gotta try again, alright? Hawkes also told me that our Jane Doe may be connected to your shooting. That her killer might be the one who shot you. Danny found a newspaper article taped on a window in one of the buildings with our Jane Doe's blood on it. The article was during your internal investigation with Clay Dobson. Your picture was covered in blood." She shook her head. "He said he'd call if he got more news."

A/N: So the hunt is on for Mac's shooter! On an off-note, I want to wish everyone a MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Have a happy holiday!