A/N: Madison Bellows, you're a star. Thank you!

Readers. Dear readers. Dear, beloved readers, guess I should warn you about this chapter. Drama and angst.

Chapter 25: Stalked!

The team was assembled in the breakroom, trying to put the case aside for a moment, but it proved impossible.

"So, the courier had his home address, but he didn't use it as the pickup address?"

"No, they told us Ginzburg used to bring packages directly to the nearest post office," Angell confirmed, "but he had to leave an address, otherwise the contract couldn't be stipulated."

"Why didn't he use his company's account?"

Jess browsed trough the pages of her memo-book, "it seems that every courier invoice – along with pick-up details – was strictly controlled by the administrative department."

"Though no one has noticed the phones disappearance?" Hawkes, who was gulping down some rice, felt almost obliged to intervene. Hours had passed and they still didn't know where their man was hiding.

"Ginzburg was the quality-control representative. He said that the phones weren't working well and that he would send them back to the supplier. By using the supplier courier."

"Quite genial."

"Wow, he spent a lot of time to plan everything. All the details, the names... crazy."

"Wait... what's this?"

"A warehouse near the harbor. It belonged to Corey's father, but now it's vacant. He left it to his daughter, then it became a State propriety after her death. But the City owns lots of buildings and checking all of them is quite a task."

"So, if I were a person looking for a quiet place connected to my happy past, this could be it?"

Mac didn't comment.

"We're going there, obviously."

"I'm taking Hawkes, too... better he's with us. We don't know what's waiting."

Flack bit his lips. Sheldon normally didn't take part in those kind of raids, so he knew Mac was taking him because his medical background. "You think it'll be risky?"

"What does Sal have to lose?"

"Jess will want to come too..." Don murmured to himself, almost hoping Angell would decide to stay at the precinct, "okay, I'll organize my own team and I'll let the Captain know." He left Mac's office, immediately starting to make his calls.

The building was the classical abandoned warehouse in the New Your harbor area. Those places were always surrounded by a sad, desolated atmosphere and, without noticing, Flack shivered lightly. He looked around, seeing his men – the best ones – and a large group from the lab.

Mac stepped close to him, "okay", he said with his best commanding voice, "this is Sal Ginzburg", he showed a picture, knowing that everyone always could recognize the perp's face, "pay attention, he seems to be a little unstable, and he has nothing left to lose. Be careful, if he's in there, I want him alive!" He took a breath, "Danny and Flack, take four other men and go in through the lateral door. The rest of us will use the front door. Precise radio communications. And, don't play hero, okay?" Mac stared intently at Danny as he said this.

The team got ready. Flack tightened his vest and then brushed his fingers over his badge. Normally, the numbers engraved, 8571, were always able to give him the strength to act. He looked briefly at Jess, who was standing next to him. She was getting ready too, while tying her long hair back in a ponytail. She does look good in a vest, he mused, and it's a quite stupid thought, but it's the truth... so beautiful. As if she heard his thinking she turned and smiled at him a little nervously. He nodded, smiling back.

The inside of the warehouse was dark and creepy. Empty boxes laid abandoned in a corner and dust seemed to coat every visible surface. Somewhere, a pipe was leaking and they could hear its disturbing and rhythmic dripping. It seemed that the temperature was even lower than outside. The officers were moving around carefully with sharp eyes, trying to spot Ginzburg.

"Mac?" Flack's murmur arrived to Taylor's ear.

"Yes, Flack?"

"We've found a bunch of cotton covers... they look alike the ones from the crime scenes."

"And here we have a computer and a printer", Danny concluded.

Flack studied his surroundings, they were in a little room built with three plasterboard walls; it was probable Sal used that space as his planning and work area. "Danny, look, that's a cigar box..."

"Please, tell me our weapon is in there", Stella's voice was full of concern.

"Negative. We go on with the searching. How about you?"

"Apparently, it's all calm around us. It's starting to get darker, but nothing with the heat detector."

"Danny, I'm going there", Flack pointed to another part of the room.

Messer nodded and studied the situation, there was nobody. He checked Flack's movements and, after he was sure some of the team had Don's back, turned to look at some rust stains on the floor. It was blood in different coagulation stadiums. He knelt down.

With the corner of the eye Flack saw a rapid movement while a metallic reflex hit his sight. It was fast. Sal had suddenly appeared and was pointing the Desert Eagle at Danny's head. Flack couldn't shoot, because his vision wasn't clear and he could hit the wrong person. Plus, he couldn't move without being noticed. He was alone. Without reflecting, acting on pure instinct, the detective screamed Danny's name. Messer turned, fast, holding his Glock. But, as fast as him, Ginzburg reacted to Flack's voice, turned toward him and fired once, almost blindly. No one still knew that Corey had taught Sal how to shoot and, over the years, he had become good as a sniper. He didn't make a mistake. It the same way his previous bullets had hit the victims in the heart, this one shot hit Flack perfectly in the abdomen, mere inches under the vest.

Danny fired too, hitting Ginzburg in the shoulder. But the killer was able to shoot again, and his second bullet hit the intended target. Sal fell to the floor as the whole team arrived.

The agony erupting from Jess's lips forced Flack to stir from the nauseating lethargy he was falling into. He tried to open the eyes, but they were inexplicably heavy. He felt Angell kneeling next to him and grabbing his hand. He swallowed, turning his head toward her and trying to win the fight against his eyelids. The light – someone had found the general switch – was killing him, but he needed to look at his Jess.

"You're going to be okay, don't worry." Tears were shining brightly in her eyes. She was stroking his cheek soothingly.

As answer, a thin rivulet of blood ran from his almost bluish lips down his chin. He closed his eyes again, realizing for the first time how much energy was required to breathe.

"Where's the ambulance?" Danny's voice seemed to arrive from another dimension, lost in a thick fog, which deformed sounds, colors and objects.

"Don't die, please. You can't die!" Jess was frantic. Her voice – the only real thing in Flack's shocked mind – was spaced out with short sobs. She couldn't remember when was the last time she had been so cold and hopeless. Or better, she could, bur she didn't want to think at it, because the similarities were starting to scare her too much.

Flack opened slightly the mouth, as if he wanted to capture all the oxygen possible. His eyes, barely visible through his almost closed lids, had lost their shiny and vibrant blue. Jess knew what he was about to say, so she silenced him tenderly touching his lips with a finger, "don't talk. Just stay alive."

But Don had never been a person who let others decide in his place. He turned his head slightly to get free from Angell's touch and opened his lips a little more. At that same moment a group of paramedics approached him to took him away from his fiancee's loving embrace. Few seconds later he was strapped on a gurney with an oxygen mask secured around his mouth.

I love you, was all he had needed to say. No one knew it yet, but it would be his last coherent thought.

A/N: Have you ever noticed how Kevlar vests seems to be short?