New York Minute 2
May. 6th, 2005 04:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardThings go from bad to worse. Whoo-hoo. Also, emotional breakdowns? Not my idea of a good way to spend the day. Crying in front of other people, at school, in Geometry? Definitely not.
“Just happened,” Flack said, licking the last of his espresso from his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth, grinning at Danny. “Got a dozen witnesses at least. Vic’s name’s Shannon Akers, out of Los Angeles, California.”
Danny blinked. “That’s Aiden’s friend,” he said. “She was just telling me how she ran into her at Starbucks for the first time in years.”
Stella raised her eyebrows. “Aiden knew her?” she asked. “How well?”
“Just somethin’ about how they’d been roomies back in college,” Danny said, shaking his head. “She’s an – antiques dealer, I think; Aiden had her business card. You might as well ask Aiden, that’s all I know.” He looked back at Flack, letting a corner of his mouth curl up in amusement at the homicide detective’s caffeine high. “COD?”
“Looks like multiple gunshot wounds,” Flack replied. “From what I heard, somebody just pulled a gun and started shooting. A couple bystanders were hit, but out vic’s the only fatality. Witnesses say most of the gunfire was focused on her.”
Danny shuddered. “Glad Aiden wasn’t here.”
“Aren’t we all,” Stella said. “Anyone see the shooter?”
Flack consulted his notebook. Danny caught sight of an illegible scrawl and shuddred internally at the thought of having to decode Flack’s handwriting. “Several witnesses say a dark-haired woman walked in and pulled a gun out of her purse.”
“Cameras?”
“I’ll look into it.” Flack veered off as they approached the Starbucks.
Danny stepped under the crime scene tape, followed by Stella. Her nostrils flared slightly. “God, what a mess,” she said.
“Nightmare scene,” Danny agreed. “A couple dozen witnesses, all suspects, EMS has been all over the scene – this is gonna be fun to process.”
Stella crouched down next to the body. Shannon Akers was on her side, long blond hair flung over her face and her blue shirt soaked with blood. “Pretty,” Stella murmured under her breath, lifting her camera.
Danny prowled around the scene, stopping to pick up bullets and cartridges. “Small caliber weapon – maybe a twenty-two or twenty-five.”
“Small enough to fit in a purse,” Stella noted. “Don’t bother printing the door – place like this, you’ll pull half a hundred and not one of them will be the perp’s.”
Danny shook his head. “Christ.” He bent down as something red caught his eye. “Hey, I’ve got blood droplets here. One of the vics’?”
Stella came over and frowned over his shoulder, raising her camera. She snapped several pictures. “I don’t think any of them were standing over here – and these are directional. Whoever was bleeding, was moving.” She pushed past Danny, following the blood trail out onto the sidewalk. “They were running,” she said, ducking under the crime tape. “Ran out into the street.”
Danny stopped to frown at a flare of blood spatter that cut off abruptly along the wall, then followed her out. “This much blood –” he started to say. “Stella!”
She began to turn, threw herself to the side as the car sped toward her.
*
“STELLA!” Danny yelled. “Shit! Stella!”
“Somebody catch that goddamned car!” Flack added.
Medical personnel, thankfully still here, were running out into the street towards Stella’s limp body. Danny shouldered them aside, followed closely by Flack, whose hand was clamped tight to the butt of his gun.
“Stella,” Danny said. “Come on, Stella, tell me you’re all right. Stella!”
An EMT pushed him away. “Get out the way,” he ordered. He touched the side of her neck. “Still alive. Don’t move her, her back might be injured.”
“Let me –” Flack pulled Danny back before he could finish the sentence. Danny stood still at the edge of the street, panting as if from a heavy race. “Shit,” he whispered. “Stella. Stella, goddamnit.”
*
“No, you son of a bitch, what I wanna know is how the hell you let that fucking car through the police blockade!” Flack yelled. “That son of a bitch that was driving ran down a NYPD detective first grade, and it’s your fucking fault! I wanna know how and why you screwed up, and I want every fucking detail, or I’m gonna have your fucking head on a fucking plate!”
Danny put his head in his hands, then reached slowly for his cell phone. They hadn’t let him or Flack in the ambulance with Stella, for some so-called medical reason. Flack had called it bullshit, and Danny agreed with him.
“Detective Taylor,” Mac said.
“Mac, it’s – it’s Danny.” He stared at the blood spatter on the sidewalk, thinking in a dim kind of way he should mark it so the uniforms didn’t fuck it up anymore than it already was.
“Is something wrong?” Mac asked after he didn’t say anything for a long minute.
“Yeah. Stella – she got – Stella got –”
“What’s wrong with Stella?” He sounded worried. An unusual emotion, from Mac. Danny would have appreciated it more had the circumstances been somewhat better.
“She’s – they took her to the hospital, Mac.”
“Danny,” Mac said patiently. “What happened?”
“It’s not my fault, I swear, I just stopped to look at some blood spatter and I didn’t see – Christ, Stella.”
“What. Happened?”
“This car. It came outta nowhere, I swear, Mac, it shoulda gone around but the uniforms didn’t – I mean – I don’t think she’s dead.”
“What fucking happened?”
That wasn’t a good sign. “The car,” Danny said, shaking his head. “I didn’t – it wasn’t my fault – it hit her, Mac. The car ran her down. EMS took her to the hospital. Her back might be broke.”
Dead silence. Flack yelled some more at the sergeant, who was starting to veer from terrified out of his mind to annoyed at the young homicide detective.
“Which hospital?” Mac asked.
“Just happened,” Flack said, licking the last of his espresso from his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth, grinning at Danny. “Got a dozen witnesses at least. Vic’s name’s Shannon Akers, out of Los Angeles, California.”
Danny blinked. “That’s Aiden’s friend,” he said. “She was just telling me how she ran into her at Starbucks for the first time in years.”
Stella raised her eyebrows. “Aiden knew her?” she asked. “How well?”
“Just somethin’ about how they’d been roomies back in college,” Danny said, shaking his head. “She’s an – antiques dealer, I think; Aiden had her business card. You might as well ask Aiden, that’s all I know.” He looked back at Flack, letting a corner of his mouth curl up in amusement at the homicide detective’s caffeine high. “COD?”
“Looks like multiple gunshot wounds,” Flack replied. “From what I heard, somebody just pulled a gun and started shooting. A couple bystanders were hit, but out vic’s the only fatality. Witnesses say most of the gunfire was focused on her.”
Danny shuddered. “Glad Aiden wasn’t here.”
“Aren’t we all,” Stella said. “Anyone see the shooter?”
Flack consulted his notebook. Danny caught sight of an illegible scrawl and shuddred internally at the thought of having to decode Flack’s handwriting. “Several witnesses say a dark-haired woman walked in and pulled a gun out of her purse.”
“Cameras?”
“I’ll look into it.” Flack veered off as they approached the Starbucks.
Danny stepped under the crime scene tape, followed by Stella. Her nostrils flared slightly. “God, what a mess,” she said.
“Nightmare scene,” Danny agreed. “A couple dozen witnesses, all suspects, EMS has been all over the scene – this is gonna be fun to process.”
Stella crouched down next to the body. Shannon Akers was on her side, long blond hair flung over her face and her blue shirt soaked with blood. “Pretty,” Stella murmured under her breath, lifting her camera.
Danny prowled around the scene, stopping to pick up bullets and cartridges. “Small caliber weapon – maybe a twenty-two or twenty-five.”
“Small enough to fit in a purse,” Stella noted. “Don’t bother printing the door – place like this, you’ll pull half a hundred and not one of them will be the perp’s.”
Danny shook his head. “Christ.” He bent down as something red caught his eye. “Hey, I’ve got blood droplets here. One of the vics’?”
Stella came over and frowned over his shoulder, raising her camera. She snapped several pictures. “I don’t think any of them were standing over here – and these are directional. Whoever was bleeding, was moving.” She pushed past Danny, following the blood trail out onto the sidewalk. “They were running,” she said, ducking under the crime tape. “Ran out into the street.”
Danny stopped to frown at a flare of blood spatter that cut off abruptly along the wall, then followed her out. “This much blood –” he started to say. “Stella!”
She began to turn, threw herself to the side as the car sped toward her.
*
“STELLA!” Danny yelled. “Shit! Stella!”
“Somebody catch that goddamned car!” Flack added.
Medical personnel, thankfully still here, were running out into the street towards Stella’s limp body. Danny shouldered them aside, followed closely by Flack, whose hand was clamped tight to the butt of his gun.
“Stella,” Danny said. “Come on, Stella, tell me you’re all right. Stella!”
An EMT pushed him away. “Get out the way,” he ordered. He touched the side of her neck. “Still alive. Don’t move her, her back might be injured.”
“Let me –” Flack pulled Danny back before he could finish the sentence. Danny stood still at the edge of the street, panting as if from a heavy race. “Shit,” he whispered. “Stella. Stella, goddamnit.”
*
“No, you son of a bitch, what I wanna know is how the hell you let that fucking car through the police blockade!” Flack yelled. “That son of a bitch that was driving ran down a NYPD detective first grade, and it’s your fucking fault! I wanna know how and why you screwed up, and I want every fucking detail, or I’m gonna have your fucking head on a fucking plate!”
Danny put his head in his hands, then reached slowly for his cell phone. They hadn’t let him or Flack in the ambulance with Stella, for some so-called medical reason. Flack had called it bullshit, and Danny agreed with him.
“Detective Taylor,” Mac said.
“Mac, it’s – it’s Danny.” He stared at the blood spatter on the sidewalk, thinking in a dim kind of way he should mark it so the uniforms didn’t fuck it up anymore than it already was.
“Is something wrong?” Mac asked after he didn’t say anything for a long minute.
“Yeah. Stella – she got – Stella got –”
“What’s wrong with Stella?” He sounded worried. An unusual emotion, from Mac. Danny would have appreciated it more had the circumstances been somewhat better.
“She’s – they took her to the hospital, Mac.”
“Danny,” Mac said patiently. “What happened?”
“It’s not my fault, I swear, I just stopped to look at some blood spatter and I didn’t see – Christ, Stella.”
“What. Happened?”
“This car. It came outta nowhere, I swear, Mac, it shoulda gone around but the uniforms didn’t – I mean – I don’t think she’s dead.”
“What fucking happened?”
That wasn’t a good sign. “The car,” Danny said, shaking his head. “I didn’t – it wasn’t my fault – it hit her, Mac. The car ran her down. EMS took her to the hospital. Her back might be broke.”
Dead silence. Flack yelled some more at the sergeant, who was starting to veer from terrified out of his mind to annoyed at the young homicide detective.
“Which hospital?” Mac asked.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 12:45 am (UTC)I love Flack's bellowing at the officer, it's very much him, brutal and blunt and full of worry for its profanity. And Danny's gulping panic talking to Mac, and thinking about the blood spatter.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 01:07 am (UTC)This is what I mean when I say Stella won't be talking much. *grin* Poor Stella. Poor Mac. Poor Danny, who's freaking out. Poor Flack, who's probably going to get yelled at after the sergeant he's yelling at stops being intimidated by the "hotshot homicide detective."
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 01:55 am (UTC)Oh, poor Stella indeed. :'( Quite the catalyst for this venture!
Poor Danny, who's freaking out.
Danny's completely on the freak out, and it shows in his tone of "omg Mac please don't kill me not my fault oh please god STELLA HELP!". And Mac? Mac is having his own little minor "oh god, my last buffer of sanity just got run over. oh, god, oh my god." meltdown. Well, not minor, but not as over as Dannyboy.
Poor Flack, who's probably going to get yelled at after the sergeant he's yelling at stops being intimidated by the "hotshot homicide detective."
Meet Donald Flack, Jr, chewtoy for the NYPD uniform division. Even if he technically outranks the sarge, there are more of them then there are of him, and he's a dead man. (they're also, most likely, older than he is, and may in fact know his father, and will dangle Papa Flack over his head).
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 02:14 am (UTC)Funny thing is, it was always Stella. Never even considered anyone else. Although she was originally supposed to be with Mac and get shot. *facepalm* Everybody in this series gets bones broken or shot or injured or something...Mac, that means you're up next. You're the only one who hasn't been severely injured!
And Mac? Mac is having his own little minor "oh god, my last buffer of sanity just got run over. oh, god, oh my god." meltdown. Well, not minor, but not as over as Dannyboy.
You know, I really kinda feel sorry for the guy in the car when Mac catches him. Mac is going to tear him to pieces, then have Hawkes put him back together so he can rip him apart again. And again.
This is after he chases all over the City, of course. If I figure out who it was in the car.
*small voice*
Meet Donald Flack, Jr, chewtoy for the NYPD uniform division. Even if he technically outranks the sarge, there are more of them then there are of him, and he's a dead man. (they're also, most likely, older than he is, and may in fact know his father, and will dangle Papa Flack over his head).
Man, the uniforms really hate him sometime around now. I mean, Moran drama (which they probably blame him for), plus Danny protection, and now THIS? Oh dear.
Huh. Never considered the Flack Sr. thing, may have to bring that in. Because, like, the guy was supposed to show up in Snafu, and he never did. (there was yelling at Danny and Mac, orders to turn the case over to Missing Persons, and Danny's flat out refusal. "No way. No fucking way. Flack's one of ours, and we take care of our own. We're not gonna let Missing Persons have him. That's like givin' up. He's ours.")
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 02:29 am (UTC)Hah! Serves him right. *amused*
Mac is going to tear him to pieces, then have Hawkes put him back together so he can rip him apart again. And again.
"Um, Mac? Does my little certificate over there say "Dr. Frankenstein", or what?"
I think it might have been a Patriso soldier aiming for Danny, which means Val? Eep. Constantine Family. Extremely pissed off. Not good.
That was actually my initial guess...
Man, the uniforms really hate him sometime around now. I mean, Moran drama (which they probably blame him for), plus Danny protection, and now THIS? Oh dear.
Oh, god. I still think that because of "On the Job" the uniforms are going to be *out* for Flack. Hey, if the big guy's protecting the fuck up, well, we'll just tear the big guy apart, first. We got time.
The uniforms are, depending, probably wicked pissed at him. I'm going to guess that Moran's friends in the department--as well as anyone who likes the crimelab, like Det. Thacker (who, for some reason, hasn't shown up lately)--are going to be spreading counter-rumors.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 02:39 am (UTC)Danny: Hey, Aiden, give me a Sharpie, I'll scribble it on there.
Mac: Danny, step away from the medical certificate and hand me the fire axe.
Hawkes: *goes to protect his sheepskin*
Mac: *hack, hack, hack* So put him back together.
That was actually my initial guess...,/i>
Ooh, so the foreshadowing/outright saying of "They want to kill you" is working? There're times I wish I could put this on film, so I would be able to put all the little instances of Danny-almost-getting-killed/Joey Sforza (Val's guy)-protecting-him on.
Oh, god. I still think that because of "On the Job" the uniforms are going to be *out* for Flack. Hey, if the big guy's protecting the fuck up, well, we'll just tear the big guy apart, first. We got time.
*blink* For some reason I just pictured Flack as a cage fighter. Then as a Roman gladiator.
The uniforms are, depending, probably wicked pissed at him. I'm going to guess that Moran's friends in the department--as well as anyone who likes the crimelab, like Det. Thacker (who, for some reason, hasn't shown up lately)--are going to be spreading counter-rumors.
Although if Flack keeps yelling at them, he's not going to help much. Temper, Flack, temper! I know you've been the calmest guy in the room lately, but that doesn't mean you've got free license to do whatever you want now!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 02:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-07 05:34 pm (UTC)Hawkes: "This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted to be a sculptor..."
Ooh, so the foreshadowing/outright saying of "They want to kill you" is working?
All signs point to yes. :)
*blink* For some reason I just pictured Flack as a cage fighter.
I bet he would, if he needed to pick up a little extra cash. Or just for fun.
Although if Flack keeps yelling at them, he's not going to help much. Temper, Flack, temper! I know you've been the calmest guy in the room lately, but that doesn't mean you've got free license to do whatever you want now!
Right. On the other hand, bellowing and brawling are the two best ways he knows of to get people to do what he wants (like leave Danny alone), and since he can't outright *hit* the cops, he settles for bellowing even louder. But dude, yeah, he needs to shore up his surplus of brownie points before someone decides to have him knocked around for his own good.
The stress is getting to all of them. Mac is bouncing from crackhappy to I-will-devour-your-soul, Aiden is worried for her own safety and is hanging on to over-the-cliff Danny for both their sakes, Flack thinks the whole lab has gone fucking crazy and is taking it out on everyone who isn't his partner, Stella refuses to stick her hands in the crazy (except where Detective Dysfunction is concerned), and Hawkes? Is hiding.