CHAPTER TWO: Rude Awakening

"Y'know, one a' these days I might actually get to the office and put my stuff away before I get called to a scene," Danny said as he parked his bike up the street from where two NYPD patrol cars and an OCME van were parked. "And then your ugly mug won't be the first thing I see at seven in the morning."

"Good morning to you too!" Dr. Sheldon Hawkes grinned from a few feet away.

"Missed your alarm clock and hit the nightstand again, Messer?" Detective Don Flack asked knowingly. He raised an eyebrow, and Danny laughed. "What've we got?" he asked.

"Where's your kit?" Hawkes was already at work on the body, the sleeves on his longsleeve blue shirt rolled up to the elbows. Danny could see a liver thermometer sticking out from the body on the ground.

"Mac called while I was on my way here. Unlucky for me I was at a red light and heard it ring. It's hard to talk on a phone on a bike, ya know that? Wanted me out here ASAP…so today we get to share." Hawkes tossed him a pair of gloves and he bent down next to the former ME. "Who's this poor schmuck?" He studied the body and frowned. "And why does he look familiar?"

"Sal Cuccione," Flack said, reading from his notebook.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Danny demanded. The outburst shocked both his friends.

"Danny, what the hell?" Flack asked.

But Danny was no longer on the street. Not physically. Inside his head, his memories were taking him twenty years back to a parking lot near Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx.

August, 1988

Another beer bottle smashed into pieces against the asphalt and Sal Cuccione burst into laughter. The rest of the Tanglewood crew found it funny, but not near as funny as Sal. "Jesus, Sal," Louie Messer said. "Maybe we oughta cut ya off, huh?"

"Bullshit, Louie," Sal shot back. "I've only had a six-pack, I can go at least another one before I'm really buzzed!" They erupted into laughter.

Danny Messer leaned against the hood of his brother's car. He should have known better. Danny hated it when his car was in the shop, but when Louie heard him making plans with Aaron, he'd said, "I'm headin' to Pelham tonight, you need a ride?"

That had been two hours ago. Danny was mentally calculating the distance from the park to Aaron's house and wondered if he could still walk it and have enough time to hang out with him before he had to head back home.

"Yo Louie, you gonna be here a while?" Danny asked his brother. He wasn't entirely sure Louie had heard him-he was on his second or third beer himself. If Louie was just gonna hang here all night, Danny could go hang with Aaron and Louie could hitch a ride home with Cuccione or Zabo or one of the other guys or hit the last subway home.

"Whatsa matter Danny Boy?"

He hated it when people called him that. Especially drunk morons like Sal Cuccione.

"You don't want to play with the big boys?"

"I think hangin' with you is droppin' my IQ," Danny shot back dryly. "Louie-"

"Too good to hang with us, College Boy?" Sal Zabo slurred from his seat next to Louis' front tire.

"All right boys," Sonny Sassone said from his position on the hood of his own vehicle. "Play nice." Automatically, the talking ceased. When Sonny said something, everybody listened.

A pair of headlights pulled into the parking lot. "Shit," Louie said, recognizing the car. "Fucking Pelham boys."

Sal Cuccione cracked another beer, then started walking toward the headlights.

"What the fuck is he doin'?"

The car stopped, and two people got out. Both sported Pelham tattoos on their shoulders.

"It's showtime, boys," Sonny said with a grim smile. He reached into his backseat and pulled out a baseball bat.

When Danny saw the bat, he knew. He knew why they were out there. And it wasn't going to end pretty.

"Danny!"

Hawkes's voice snapped Danny back to the present. He blinked and shook his head. "Where were you?" his friend asked him, removing the liver thermometer and making a mental note on TOD.

Danny didn't answer. Sal Cuccione stared blankly at the sky, a single shot to the forehead. "Powder burns," he noted, turning business and getting back to his job, forcing the past back to where it belonged. "This was an execution. Help me roll him over."

Hawkes and Flack exchanged looks as Hawkes helped turn Sal on his side. Danny pulled the collar of his shirt down to expose Sal's shoulder.

It had stretched a little with the years, and wrinkled a little with age, but the letters were still there, plain as day.

"Tanglewood?" Flack asked. He looked down at Danny. "You knew this guy?"

He caught the faraway look in his friend's eyes. "A lifetime ago," Danny replied absently.

"Guys?" Hawkes interrupted Flack and Danny. He was holding a small square of paper between two fingers. "You should see this." He looked at Danny seriously. "You especially."

Danny let Sal's body fall gently back to the pavement and turned his attention to Hawkes and the piece of paper. "The hell is that?"

Hawkes handed the piece of paper over and waited while Danny turned it over. His eyes widened as he read the five words scrawled on the paper.

Danny. See you soon. –S

The color drained from Danny's face, and Hawkes gripped his arm in a vise so he wouldn't hit the ground. "Who is 'S'?" Hawkes asked.

"Sonny Sassone?" Flack guessed, and Danny nodded mutely. "I thought that sonofabitch was still in Sing Sing."

"So did I," Danny replied. "So did I." Then he thought of something. He grabbed Flack by the jacket, urgency in his voice.

"Flack. I need a ride to Angel of Mercy. Sirens and all." He looked at Hawkes. "Hawkes, you'll be okay here?"

Hawkes looked at him, puzzled. "Yeah, but-"

"Thanks buddy, I'm sorry, but I gotta go." Flack was halfway to his car, and Danny was hot on his heels. He was closing the door as Flack was driving off.

Hawkes glanced down at the body of Sal Cuccione, then back at Danny's motorcycle.

They both weren't going to fit in the ME van.

Author's Note: Thank you to everybody who has read and/or reviewed! You all ROCK!