A/N: I have never actually been anywhere near New York in my life so I can't say for sure what's over there… So my descriptions of places might be a little vague…
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Don Flack sighed and sat back in his chair, massaging his eyes. He'd been up all night pulling up all of Danny's recent cases since it was clear that he had been a target. Danny was a detective though, and he had a pretty colorful past. The man probably had any number of enemies all out for his blood. It was an exhausting job but until the labs came up with a probable suspect, this would be all they had to go on.
By now, Flack had managed to compile a respectably long list but with nothing to narrow it down, he was about ready to throw in the towel. But every time he thought about that, he also thought about Danny and Lindsay who were out there somewhere, probably suffering at the hands of some maniac. Hell, they could even be dead for all they knew but he couldn't let them down, couldn't let the team down. And besides, it was all too likely that the CSIs at the lab had even less sleep than he did, especially Mac. Flack wondered if the man actually slept at all.
Now, after several hours, Flack decided that he had finished the list in record-breaking time. With two detectives missing, the NYPD had pulled out all the stops and manpower they could to find them again. When it involved one of their own, it always became personal and this time, it was two. His list was long enough for now. It was time to look in on the lab people and see if they had managed to come up with anything.
"Hey Hawkes," Flack called, on seeing the former ME stroll through the corridors, studying the file in his hands. He stopped and studied his friend. "Whoa, you look like one of those people you used to open up." It was true. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with sleep circles, his face pulled into an expression that definitely showed how sick he was feeling. Hawkes was squinting slightly in the light and his movements were sluggish, almost robotic. All he really needed was a gruesome injury of some sort, probably a nice head wound with blood everywhere, and then he'd pass for one of the walking dead in Resident Evil.
"You're one to talk. You poured all that alcohol into me last night." Hawkes said accusingly. "Try having a hangover and still staying up through the night." He paused and looked closer at the taller man. "You don't look so pretty yourself. I see you didn't sleep either."
"Not much." Flack admitted ruefully, rubbing the back of his head. "I was up all night staring at the computer screen, trying to make a list of possible suspects. All I've gotta say is, I'm surprised Messer didn't get into trouble before this. You won't believe the number of enemies he's managed to make. Some are from his recent cases but I've got a fair number of people he put in jail who just managed to get themselves released. And then there his old childhood buddies."
"Long list huh?" Hawkes nodded understandingly.
"About as long as this building is tall." Flack pointed at the file in Hawkes' hands. "I hope you have something in that file that I can cross-reference with my ever-growing list of Messer-haters because I really want to cut this list down to a proper size."
"I was just about to call you." Hawkes managed a smirk. "DNA came back on the blood smear Mac found on one of the poles. It's a match to a Scott Brown." He handed the file to Flack who studied the picture.
"Never heard of him…at least not yet. My list could still be incomplete." Flack frowned, "This man doesn't have many convictions but it's mostly mugging and robbery with him…oh wait, he's been known to hire himself out on occasion." He groaned. "Great, a hired gun. If we're lucky, maybe we'll find something that can tie him to Danny and Lindsay for sure but chances are, he won't even know who was paying him."
"Well, that's what interrogation rooms are for." Hawkes smiled. "I'll come with you to pick him up." He looked abruptly green in the face and took several moments to force the giddiness that threatened to overwhelm him back where it belonged. "…As soon as we pick up some hangover drug from the nearest pharmacy." He added at last.
CSI NY CSI NY
They arrived outside of Scott Brown's apartment and were just about to knock on it when the man himself appeared at the top of the stairs. He froze when he saw the two official-looking men outside his house. Flack noticed him first and started walking towards him, noting at the same time, the busted lip and broken nose on the man. If he was one of them, then Danny or Lindsay did a pretty good job punching his lights out.
"Scott Brown? I'm Detect-" Flack couldn't even finish his sentence because at that point, Scott bolted down the stairs three at a time. Dammit, why do they always run? Flack thought as he bit back the curse bubbling through his lips. "Hey stop! Stop, NYPD!" He yelled as he raced down too. Someone's got a guilty conscience…and a lot of explaining to do…
Hawkes somehow managed to keep pace with Flack, which was impressive considering Flack had longer legs and Hawkes wasn't exactly in top condition. "Hawkes, keep an eye on him." Flack instructed, "I'll cut him off from the other side." Hawkes simply nodded and Flack turned abruptly into an alleyway, dodging trash cans and the like at the same time.
He was sidetracked for a while by an overactive dog who thought it would be amusing to chase after the harried detective. Flack was forced many times to jump over the playful canine as it got in his way.
There, he could see the road just up ahead and above the dog's excited barking was Hawkes, still yelling, "Stop! NYPD!" Flack broke into the crowd, just as Scott blazed past him. Reacting quickly, Flack reached out to try and grab the man but soon saw that that would not be needful. He just had to chuckle at the sight. His racing buddy apparently got so excited at the chasing game that it had completely tackled into Scott and was now bending over his chest, licking his face.
"You'd make a pretty good police dog there." Flack commented approvingly as he scratched the dog behind the ears. He'd always liked dogs better anyway, since cats made him sneeze.
Hawkes finally caught up with them and he was gasping very hard while Flack pulled the man to his feet. The dog was still jumping around, as if waiting for them to once again start their game, his tail wagging furiously. "I didn't do anything!" That was the first thing out of Scott's mouth the moment he met the light-blue eyes of Don Flack.
"Yeah? So why'd you run then Scottie?" Flack asked, "You made my partner and me very tired, and we don't like that do we?"
"I…have got…to do more running." Hawkes managed to say in between deep breaths.
"You're not in top condition for it. You did fine. Almost as well as I would've myself." Flack said.
"Yeah, you're a real poster boy for modesty." Hawkes said dryly, "Who's your friend?" He asked, nodding in the dog's direction.
"I don't know." Flack shrugged, "He thought it'd be fun to chase me around in the alley. Next thing I knew, he was barreling straight into this guy." He stared down at the dog. "If my building manager weren't so strict about pets, I think I might decide to keep him. Any dog that can take down a suspect of mine is a friend."
"Stupid mutt." Scott mumbled angrily, aiming a kick in its direction. The dog hid behind Flack's legs but continued to wag its tail furiously.
"I think he likes me too," Flack grinned. He looked back at Scott. "All right Scottie-boy. Talk. Why did you run when you saw us?"
"I don't like cops." Scott answered sullenly.
"Yeah? Well guess what, we don't like you either. Now where'd you get those injuries?"
"Some guy clocked me for staring at his girlfriend last night."
"Is that so? Then why was your blood at the scene of a shooting last night?"
"What shooting?" Scott replied quickly.
"Don't play coy with me Scott." Flack was getting tired of the interrogation game. "The shooting where a train conductor was shot and two detectives went missing. And no lies. I don't want to have to add a black eye to your collection of facial injuries." He smirked evilly, "Or maybe I'll just let Fido here have you. He seems to want a piece of you."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Scott insisted, shrinking away from the angry and evil man and his equally evil canine ally.
"Flack, relax," Hawkes told him coolly. He knew why Flack was angry and he couldn't blame him but hitting a suspect was not going to provide them with any leads. "Now Mr. Brown, we have two detectives missing, possibly abducted or worse, and we find your blood at the scene. Do you want to tell us how it got there?"
"Like I said, I got into a fight." Scott said, "I was taking the train home last night and some dude punched me in the face when he caught me staring at his girl. I got the hell out of there."
"Bullshit." Flack spat, "We know it was you and your four buddies who were there." He produced still photos from the surveillance videos from inside his coat. "That's you, isn't it? Now what do you have to say?" The photos, truth be told, weren't the best in the world but Scott Brown was just barely recognizable as one of the group.
Scott stared at the pictures but didn't say anything.
"Look, we can do this here, nice and easy, or we can go downtown." Hawkes put in, "What's it gonna be?"
Scott looked up at them both defiantly. "Get your car ready then, 'cos I'm calling my lawyer."
CSI NY CSI NY
He wasn't talking. Scott Brown wasn't talking and that damned lawyer of his wasn't helping. This was why authorities hated lawyers, especially obviously sleazy slimebags like this one. Flack scratched absently at the dog's ears as he watched the man converse with his lawyer. It had a strange effect of calming him down and the dog seemed to like it.
"Oh good, I'm glad I found you." Stella said, walking up to him with a folder in her hands. She stopped to look at the dog sitting calmly on the floor next to Flack. "What's with the dog?"
"I'm not sure. He seemed to have taken a liking to me while I was chasing down our suspect. He even took the man down for me. I figured a dog like that deserved a reward so I was going to drop him off at a good shelter but he jumped in the car and hasn't exactly left me since." He smiled slightly. "I kinda like him. I even gave some thought to keeping him for a while, but my building manager is pretty strict about pets."
"Sounds like he'd make a good police dog. Maybe you should drop him off at the kennels and let him join in the training." Stella suggested half-jokingly. She looked at the two men inside the room. "Is that the suspect?"
"Yup, that's Scott Brown." Flack nodded, "But he isn't talking and that lawyer isn't helping. He says he got those injuries when a jealous boyfriend caught him staring at his girl on the train last night."
"What about those pictures we have, from the surveillance videos?"
"The lawyer gave me some crap about how the picture quality was too grainy and could be anyone." Flack sighed heavily. "It's him and we all know it. Hawkes is processing his clothes right now. Hopefully, we'll get something useful off them."
"Maybe they could help." Stella shoved the folder in front of his face. "Prints on Danny's and Lindsay's things came back to an Alan Prince and a Rob Bolden, known associates of Scott Brown. The print on Danny's glasses is still unknown though. But these two characters have about pretty much the same rap sheet as their buddy in there, right down to hiring themselves out if the price is right."
"Great, this is starting to look more and more like they were all hired instead of some kind of personal grudge." Flack groaned. "In that case, they probably won't even know the name of the man who was paying them." He shook his head and stood up. "We might as well get this over with. Let's go pick up those two for a little reunion."
TBC…
Okay, that's the end of this chapter. I think it's kinda short though… Thanks for all the lovely reviews last time round. You people know what to do.