Chapter 21

Lindsay was up bright and early the next morning, but she still wasn't awake before Danny. He was already dressed, his hair slightly damp from his shower, as he sat in the uncomfortable-looking wooden chair in front of the window. She must have made a sound, because Danny turned his gaze on her.

"Sleep well, Montana?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Lindsay. In truth, she hadn't really. She had slept on the plane and in the car the day before, and both she and Danny had turned in early after his draining monologue. They both sought refuge in dreams and did not find it.

She climbed out of bed and made her way toward the bathroom. "I'm just going to take a shower," she said. "I'll be out in fifteen minutes."

She took ten. She saw no reason to linger under the spray. It left her too much time to think, and she'd done enough of that the last few days.

They stopped to eat breakfast before returning to the base. The same guard, Rudy, was on duty, but he showed no sign of recognizing them. Danny did not joke with him today. He simply handed over their IDs and waited until they were told to pass. He parked the car in the same spot as the day before, but instead of leading her into what appeared to be the main building, he took her around to the back. "This time of day, they'll be at the shooting house," Danny said, and led her to a small outbuilding quite a distance from the main building. "Now we wait."

It was almost nine o'clock, and Danny assured her that, sure as clockwork, his former team would be exiting the shooting house and passing their outbuilding in a matter of minutes.

He was right.

Four men dressed in combat uniforms and carrying automatic weapons approached. They were all of average height and looked very fit. None of them were especially tall and muscular, which Lindsay found odd, considering what they did for a living.

Danny stepped out of the outbuilding and leaned against the wall, waiting for the team to reach him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Danny Downtown," said one of the men. He looked to be about 35, with messy blonde hair, green eyes and a wide smile. His skin was very tanned, almost leathery, and Lindsay noticed the beginnings of crows-feet fanning out from his eyes. His job was not an easy one, no matter what his grin said.

"Surfer Dave, good to see ya," said Danny, but the other man had already looked beyond him and caught sight of Lindsay. "And who's this?" he asked, his voice conveying his charm, but his eyes betraying his suspicion.

"Detective Lindsay Monroe," said Lindsay, stepping forward and offering her hand. Dave shook it, bemused. "Miss Monroe, welcome to our humble abode. It's not often that we have such beautiful guests."

She smiled, charmed despite herself.

Danny stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Hands off, this one's mine, Casanova," he said with a grin. "Get your own cowgirl."

"A cowgirl?" asked a taller, brown-haired man with a noticeably southern accent. "Were the hell did you find yourself one of those?" He smiled and Lindsay tipped his helmet as if it were a cowboy hat, revealing a thatch of thick, curly hair. "I'm Jack. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," said Lindsay.

He grinned. "When you get bored with Messer, here, you come find me. I'm a lot more fun that this stick in the mud."

Lindsay smiled noncommittally. "How in the world could Danny be considered a stick in the mud?" she thought wryly.

"This here's Jason," said Jack, pointing a thumb behind him toward a younger looking black man with kind brown eyes. "Your replacement," he added with a wolfish grin.

"Nice to meetcha," said Danny, his smile genuine. He paused awkwardly before turning to the older man with red hair and steely eyes who had remained silent during the exchange. "Uncle Moe," he said nervously.

The other man simply nodded sharply and turned to leave. "Hey Top, what's up?" asked Jason.

The man didn't even pause. He just kept walking.

"It's okay, man. Let him go," said Danny. "He doesn't wanna talk to me."

"I've never seen him like that—"

"Long story," said Dave. "Before your time." He turned to Danny with a grin. "Come 'ere you lousy quitter," he said, pulling the other man into a bone-crushing man hug.

Danny pushed the other man off of him with a laugh. "Dude, you smell like DAN."

Jack leaned over to tell Lindsay, "That's dick, ass and nuts for the uninitiated."

Surfer Dave was having none of it. "This coming from a guy named DANny," he said before cracking up. "That one never gets old."

"Trust me, it does," said Danny with a long-suffering look. But his humour was replaced in moments by seriousness. He gave Lindsay a meaningful glance, indicating that she should start asking questions.

So she started apologetically, "Sorry guys, but unfortunately we're not here to socialize. We're investigating a murder."

There were a number of raised eyebrows before Jack asked, "Whose?"

Lindsay paused, wondering how to break it to them that their friend and brother-in-arms was lying dead in the morgue at the New York City crime lab.

Danny answered for her. "Jim's."

There was none of the incredulity that Lindsay expected. Calm acceptance all around—they knew the score. They didn't have to tell her the rate of turnover in the unit for her to know that not many of these men lived long enough to retire.

"When and how," asked Jason soberly.

"New York," said Danny. "We found the bodies in Central Park. Not sure where they were killed."

"They?" asked Dave.

"His niece was also killed."

"Damn," he cursed.

"They were injected with a mutagen before being hit with a round filled with flechettes. I think you'll be able to fill in the blanks now," said Danny grimly.

"Afghanistan?"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Any idea what he was doin' in New York?"

"Nope. But you knew that already," said Dave.

"I know, but I'm a cop now. I'm out of the off-the-record world. I gotta be accountable."

All of the unit members made a face. "Wow, that would suck!" said Jason.

"So you guys don't even know why he was there?" asked Lindsay.

"We were lucky we even knew he'd left," said Jack. "All I know is, he had one helluva fight with his wife and had to stay with me for a few days. Next thing I know, he's gone."

A/N: Wow. I just want to thank you all for reading! And those of you who review are pretty damn awesome too! I can't believe that this story has received more than two hundred reviews! You all rock.

Hits are still down, but that's okay. I'm too busy to worry about that anymore. In fact, consider this notice: I know you all hate waiting for updates, and so far I have committed to posting a new chapter every week. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to miss a few weeks until I amass enough time (and chapters) to post again. I am so very sorry for this, and I hate to do it, but you all know how it is to be swamped. Thank you for your patience! Until next time.