Title: 48 Hours
Chapter 1 – A Wrong Turn

Summary: After a tough day, Mac Taylor is carjacked by a person that turns out to be not what he seems. An unlikely alliance and growing trust bonds the two strangers and sets them on a path of justice and exoneration. But who is out to stop them, for good? MS FA

Disclaimer: I don't own Mac Taylor but I wish I did (course then I'd have no time for writing!)! You know the rest write (grin)? All other characters are my own. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

A/N: Okay so my friend (BF) and I were watching the movie 48 Hours when she challenged me to write something similar. Two guys forced to join forces (but neither of them ex-cons), gain trust quickly and bring down their bad cop friends in less than 48 hours! She suggested Mac and Flack (b/c she LOVES Flack as much as I LOVE Mac), 1-2 days, lots of action and peril for our two fave guys with some fluff to conclude (all in less than 5 chaps!). *PHEW* So this is what I have come up with. I am once again nervous you all won't like this but I do hope you'll give it all a chance as you did with 'Fall from Grace' and thanks so much in advance! And this is an AU - alternate universe story so that's why they don't know each other right away. :D

~Thanks to csi-ncis for the discussions!~

~Thursday, 6:00pm~

"Stella, I'm on my way home," senior NYPD CSI Investigator Mac Taylor's voice promises his wife over the phone.

"You okay after your showdown with Sinclair?"

"Thankfully he was on my side but I guess I just surprised him and that wasn't a good thing," Mac sighs. "Telling him just before he leaves that he'll be going up against Robert Dunbrook the next morning with very little to go on wasn't a good idea."

"Mac you had warned him before. Sinclair is like you when it comes to Dunbrook, he blows hot and then cools down once he's gotten what he needs to. What else did he say? Did he agree?"

"No and said he wouldn't do it. Said he needs harder evidence on Dunbrook. Sadly I agree, but it was worth a shot."

"We'll find that evidence Mac. We will put Dunbrook away for good and get this city back to what it was before Dunbrook bought it."

"I know. So think you'll be able to distract my mind tonight?"

"Sounds like a challenge," her light laugher delights his tired brain. "Trust me, I'll be able to distract you."

"Can't wait."

"Okay. Hurry home my love, dinner will be waiting."

"And dessert?" Mac's lips curl automatically upward.

"Depends on what time you get home."

"I'll take a short cut."

"Just be careful. I love you."

"I love you too. See you soon."

Mac hangs up the phone his mind starting to settle somewhat, but his whole body tense and his heart still racing from the showdown with his superior.

'You surprise me with this at the end of the day, telling me that I have to go and deliver this to him tomorrow and expect me to be happy?'

'Sir, you know as well as I do that…'

'Dunbrook is a hardliner that doesn't play fair or cleanly. This is only conjecture. Come back with hard evidence Mac.'

'Sir…'

'I might not like Robert Dunbrook, but until I have something to trump him with, unfortunately I have to play his damn games. Now bring me hard evidence.'

And it just escalated from there, both of them shouting and neither of them backing down. Mac was the first to turn to leave; Sinclair warning him that he better take the weekend to cool down and then come back to him with hard evidence in hand. For the past few months he and his small team had been working to get evidence on Robert Dunbrook; anything that might incriminate for good the corrupt business mogul. So far, Dunbrook was able to refute anything brought against him, forcing Mac to look harder and deeper but with little success. He had heard of rumblings inside of Dunbrook's organization and that another team in the city was also working to bring him down. But Sinclair told him that if that were the case, he would have heard from the other Chief, Dean Sampson, and that it was up to Mac to make it happen. That's why he was looking so forward to going home to his wife and partner, Stella Taylor. A night with her would rejuvinate his spirits and he'd be back at it the next day.

The two of them had been friends before his wife, Claire died and then had grown from friends, to best friends to lovers over the years; Stella finally agreeing to become his wife over eight years ago; five years after Claire died. As he brings the black Chevy Avalanche to a stop at the light, his eyes fix on the band of gold on his finger and his heart starts to settle a little. She was his life.

But if he was honest with himself, he would have to admit that over the past few, tension infused days, his temper had flared toward her as well and for that he knows he needs to do more than a little groveling. Her kind attitude and loving banter over the phone just cemented further in his brain how much he really didn't deserve to be blessed with such an amazing woman as her; she was his life, his reason for living; his very existence. If it wasn't for her, he knows that after Claire had died, he would have shrunken away; deteriorated into a withered hollow of a human being, never knowing that a second chance at love was waiting if she hadn't shown him the way. In return he hopes he's shown her that her second chance at love and putting her trust in a man was well founded and that his devotion to her is genuine and heartfelt.

"I should bring flowers," Mac ponders as his body emits a heavy sigh as he is in traffic; his nerves starting to fray as each tense second passes.

Knowing that traffic would be very chaotic on his usual route, Mac does what he told Stella, at least he thinks he's taking a short cut when he makes a right and heads into a part of the city that he isn't very familiar with; it not being his turf and belonging to another precinct and CSI lab. He spies a florist shop a few shops ahead and stops; his mind starting to get distracted with the evening ahead.

Mac slowly gets out of the crossover and heads into the florist shop; his senses a bit on edge at the unfamiliar territory that he's now in, but tells himself that it's been a long week, he's tired and wants nothing more than to get the dozen red roses his mind is set on and get home to his wife and unwind for the weekend.

"Sir?"

"Right, sorry," Mac mumbles as he quickly retrieves his driver's license and hands the florist his credit card. After the roses are wrapped, small card written, he takes the flowers and then heads back outside; the sun about to set and the weather cool and a bit stormy.

Mac gently places the roses on the passenger seat, starts up the truck and pulls to the end of the quiet street about to make a U-turn to head back into mainstream traffic. But before he can do anything, he's show the folly of not locking his doors and taking the road less travelled.

A middle-aged, dark haired man jumps into back, shoves a gun into Mac's neck, cocks the trigger and utters one word in a tone that means either compliance or death.

"Drive!"

XXXXXXXX

~Thursday, 6:00pm~

"Hey sweetheart it's me," NYPD Detective Don Flack assures his wife and NYPD partner Jessica Flack as he stands outside the rundown warehouse. Much like another man that destiny was about to force him to meet; his week had also been fraught with stress and danger, deceit and one deadly but well connected opponent that he was about to take down once and for all. Much like his unknown partner, he too was working to bring down one of the city's top business figures; Robert Dunbrook. However, unlike the good man that Mac Taylor worked for, he worked for one of Dunbrook's stooges and so was told that it was just him and a few others in his station house and the rest of the city was against him. But Flack knew of the traitors on the inside, his own Chief the first to jump the loyalty ship. But he was one man against a department of crooked cops and knew that unless he had hard evidence against Robert Dunbrook, he life would soon be forfeit. He had rattled too many cages as of late to go unnoticed and now was about to pay the ultimate price – a call out for his own death was issued to a group of men that he was going to meet.

"And you're sure that this lead is the one that will put Dunbrook away for good this time?"

"Yes Jessica, don't worry."

"Kinda hard to say that to me Don," his wife's anxious voice sighs on the other end. "The first two leads that swore to you that they both saw first hand that Robert Dunbrook murdered councilman Sam Coulson and those two undercover police officers ended up with their throats slit and were sent to you in FedEx boxes. And don't get me started on how Farlane's wife was murdered. They..."

"This is the one Jess. I get this guy on record, I go to Dunbrook with that tape from Pinky and its game over. He's in jail before the sun sets and you and I get to spend the weekend just relaxing."

"And not looking over our backs? You know since you started to investigate Robert Dunbrook that we both have had a few close calls at home and in the field. Damn it Don, it's my professional life on the line as well."

"We are done after this Jess. I promise," Flack states with a firm tone.

"Still wish you had waited until I was finished with my last suspect."

"I'm okay Jess. Okay I see his shadow inside. I love you and I'll call you as soon as I'm done. Tonight Jessica, tonight we take back our lives."

"I love you too Don. Just watch your back."

Flack hangs up with his wife, Jessica Flack and offers a small silent prayer. He and Jessica had been partners for the past few years; an amicable setup by his sister Sam, one night at the bar she nearly owns. It was love at first sight; prompting Jessica to transfer from her New Jersey station house to his; both of them finally getting married about a year later. Don knows that he had never really given love a serious thought until he met Jessica, and now spends every night thanking God that he was blessed with such an amazing life partner.

"I love you Jess. Tonight is for us."

He had been working on a case that was just the death of what turned out to be a two bit hood. But something about the death of the seemingly nobody forced him down a road that would eventually lead to corruption, murder, fraud and blackmail in the political arena. Before he knew it, he was investigating Robert Dunbrook for first degree murder.

Two men had come forward, but the highly connected media baron was sure that anything that he was connected two in the way of murder was quickly absolved by the death of two more men, this time one of them included an undercover cop and his partner.

But the further he dug, the deeper he had gotten himself down the rabbit hole and knew that unless another eye witness came forward that he could possibly be Dunbrook's next casualty. Finally a few weeks later; today, another had come forward. An ex-NYPD officer, now on the take, had witnessed the deaths; the man Dunbrook so casually blew away his brother; his youngest and the one he had promised with his help he would get off the streets. He and another undercover officer.

"Detective Flack I swear to you that this is legit, I can even tell you what the bastard was wearing that night. And yes I got it all on tape. You meet me tonight and I'll give you the location of that tape. I swear on Timmy's life; I just want that son of a bitch to pay. Pinky swear, just like my name."

And now that day had arrived. He would go in; get the confession; give the witness the paper for the witness protection program; get the tape and then go and arrest Robert Dunbrook. At least that is how he planned it all to go down. But as soon as he pulls the door open, the smell of death immediately hits him in the face and he knows that the night is not going to go as planned. He was once again ratted out an insider in his own department.

"What the hell…" Flack's voice dies out as he quickly pulls his gun; his heart rate starting to pick up the pace.

"Actually hell is where you're going, Detective Flack," the smug voice of Robert Dunbrook is heard from behind. Flack turns on his heel to see the well dressed, distinguished older man looking at him with an amused expression. "Did you honestly think that there would be anyone that you could keep safe from me?"

"You murdered Timothy Farlane!" Flack's voice growls with an angry tone. "And…"

"Well I am waiting for you to prove that," Dunbrook smiles. "In fact, I think your superior is also. Oh that's right; I own the NYPD, your miserable ass and his included."

"You can buy off Sampson all you want but you'll never own me! There are those of us that will oppose you Dunbrook right to the end," Flack vows, not backing down.

"It's just a matter of time Detective before you meet that end. You and your wife are a dying breed."

"Where is he you son of a bitch?" Flack demands.

"Who? Your no good informant? A man named 'Pinky? Why dead of course, too bad you can't prove who did it though," Dunbrook goads with a sneer.

"Maybe not tonight, but it will happen; I will bring you down!"

"Actually the only place you are going tonight is to the grave. Your time has run out Detective Flack," Dunbrook starts. "Now if you'll…" he only manages before Flack's body slams into his, taking both of them to the ground in a jumble of arms and legs. Flack lands a good blow to Dunbrook's side before Dunbrook's voice bellows for reinforcements. Not waiting to see who Dunbrook had called as the next NYPD traitors, Flack wastes no time in pushing himself to his feet and charging for the back door. But as he does he sees two large men slashing the tires to his cruiser just before they turn to him with guns and knives.

"STOP HIM!"

"Damn it!" Flack curses as he pivots on his right and races for the narrow alley-way, the two large men in hot pursuit. He reaches the end of the street; curses once again when he sees the streets abandoned. However, destiny had something else in mind as a black Chevy Avalanche pulls into view. Must work for Dunbrook, that is a police issue vehicle, his mind yells at him. Who else would be in this neighborhood at this time?

But as his brain picks up the shouting from behind getting closer and sealing his fate with each passing second and without giving it a second thought and knowing his life depends on his next move, he races for the black crossover, gun in hand. Maybe he can use the driver for whatever Dunbrook's next move is and at least buy his freedom for a few more hours. He gets in; never realizing that his life was now about to change forever.

"Drive!" He orders the startled, dark haired man in the front seat; his heart racing so fast he fears that he'll just pass out and his life really will be over.

"But…" Mac tries to protest.

"Now!"

Flack knows that if he is taken in without evidence, Dunbrook will pin it all on him and his life and Jessica's will also be over. He tells himself over and over again that he cannot allow that to happen.

"Where to?"

"Straight ahead!"

"Look this isn't…" Mac tries only to have Flack cock the trigger and push the further into the folds of Mac's warm neck.

"Don't lecture me!" Flack barks in anger. "Just…look take your next left and just head into that underground parking lot. Do it now!"

Knowing better than to argue and hoping for an opportunity to get back the upper hand, Mac knows that right now compliance is his best option; especially if he wants to see Stella with his person still in tact. Mac sharply turns the dark crossover into the dingy, unfamiliar parking garage, his heart racing at this surprising turn of events.

"I think that…" Mac starts as he turns to face Flack. But not prepared to face the desperate man, he simply receives a blow to the head with the butt end of the gun to the side of his face, forcing the tender skin to sting and his head to swing back to place in seconds.

"Just shut up and pull into that corner," Flack directs as he pushes the gun back into Mac's cheek, his mind racing as to what to do next. He knows he cannot just kill the man in the front seat, but he also knows that if he simply sets him free, his life is over. I'll just cuff him, lock him in the truck until I get that tape, Flack tells himself. I need that tape; that tape proves Dunbrook murdered Farlane and his partner.

I just need to stop this truck and get my own gun, Mac's mind ponders his next move as they near a darkened corner of the deserted underground parking lot. His feels is mind start to race with a new plan of escape as he starts to slow the truck, his left hand getting ready to pull his gun.

"Keep the truck running," Flack tells Mac, his mind still not sure of what his next move will be. Flack knows he's never been a fugitive from justice and even when he embarked on this potentially career ending course he never figured he'd be on the wrong side of the law as he is now. But he also never figured he have to make a call to Jessica to tell her that he's done something that could also get them both killed by his own doing.

Mac slows the truck, his foot pressing down on the break and his right hand now putting the gear into P for park. But before he can make his next move, the man in the back seat, roughly grabs his elbow and a fight ensues. Mac tries to yank his arm back, but Flack is too fast and pulls it back even further, putting painful pressure on Mac's whole right side as his ribs absorb a blow from Flack's fist.

"I won't let you kill me," Flack states firmly as he pushes the gun into Mac's cheek once more and pulls the trigger.

"Look I am an officer with the NYPD," Mac tries; which is not the words his carjacker wants to hear.

"Wrong thing to say!" Flack growls.

Then without warning, Flack sends the butt end of the gun into Mac's temple again, dazing him harder but in the same place and causing the skin to finally break; Mac's body slightly slumping forward onto the steering wheel; a fresh smattering of blood on the window pane.

NYPD…Dunbrook owns the NYPD, Flack's mind replays over and over again as he quickly gets out of the truck and then pulls the front door open. He yanks Mac's seatbelt off and then pulls his still dazed frame out of the crossover. In Flack's mind, a man that now identifies himself with the NYPD and being in Dunbrook's exact vicinity when Dunbrook promised to kill him next with dirty NYPD cop's at his side is working for Dunbrook and therefore his enemy.

He fairly dumps Mac's limp body to the pavement and starts to fish in his pockets. He finds the gun and tosses it back into the front seat of the truck that is now shielding them from any outside onlookers. He finds Mac's cuffs next and then his ID.

"Damn it!" He curses as he reads Mac's name; also tossing his police ID, it landing beside the gun on the floor of the passenger side of the truck.

Mac's mind finally starts to pull him out of his dazed stupor, but it's not soon enough. His body struggles with the man that is now cuffing his wrists behind his back, his mind in a panic that he'll just die here alone and never being able to say goodbye to his beloved wife, Stella.

"Wait…" Mac mumbles as he's roughly hauled upright and then slammed into the side of the truck; a small trickle of blood starting to seep down the right side of his face from where he was struck twice.

"HOW MUCH!" Flack yells at him.

"What?" Mac asks in dazed confusion.

"Stop playing games with me!" Flack shouts as he lands a harsh blow to Mac's tender mid-section.

Mac's body falters to the side but is quickly pushed back upright by Flack's strong hands. "Wait a min…" Mac gasps.

"I asked how much?"

"Take…my wallet. Whatever is in…it is yours," Mac tries in a huff. "I don't know how much!"

"No I mean how much did Dunbrook pay you to kill me?"

"What?" Mac asks in confusion. "Look I think that…" is all he gets out before he's subjected to another stiff blow to the gut.

"Tell me the damn truth!" Flack demands once more as his fingers rest around Mac's neck; the gun in the other hand still poised to shoot.

"I don't…know what you…are talking about," Mac lightly gasps.

Flack finally hears some screeching tires outside and knows that he cannot stay in plain view for much longer. "Fine, but you'll tell me before I kill you elsewhere," Flack just shakes his head in anger as he grabs Mac by the arm and then starts to drag him toward the back of the crossover; the back door still open and ready to receive him.

Mac pulls against the cuffs and the man holding him tightly in his grasp telling himself he has to get free. He finally kicks Flack in the shins; the hold loosened and his chance at freedom a few seconds away. Mac brings his foot up, catching Flack in the thigh and giving him a good kick backward, forcing Flack to stumble toward the ground, landing on his butt. Mac turns and starts to run for the back of the truck, the exit to the parcade his only train of thought at the moment.

Flack knows that if the man escapes, his life is forfeit; but also knows that he needs him for information. So instead of shooting, he charges after him, catching up to him in seconds, taking them both to the ground; Mac's lips offering a groan as his weary body slams to the ground on his stomach once again.

"You don't…want to…do this," Mac grumbles, a little out of breath, as he continues to struggle for freedom.

"I have to," Flack counters as he finally gets his arms around Mac's cuffed arms and yanks them upward, forcing Mac's lip's to offer a small yelp and his body to quickly tire in its useless struggling.

"I'm not paid…to kill you…" Mac tries to reason, but it falls on deaf ears; his captor has already pegged him for a man hired to take his life.

"Right so you just happened to be driving by in the neighborhood at the same time that Dunbrook was going to kill me? I'm not stupid!"

They near the back of the crossover once more and Mac's panic again takes over; forcing him to try to regain his freedom at any cost. But another blow to the side of the head with the butt end of the gun; the side that is already cut and bruised and his body falters in his captor's grasp, allowing the desperate man to succeed in getting him into the back seat, face down on the soft leather seats and the door slammed and locked behind him.

"Damn it!" Mac curses as he struggles to get himself at least on his side; small beads of sweat dotting his brow, his back damp and his core on fire. His body aches and his head is pounding but giving in at any time is not an option. He locks eyes with the desperate man and sees fear and wonder. Who the hell is this guy?

Flack leans back in the seats for a few seconds, his mind racing and his heart about to give way. What the hell am I doing? His mind known ponders unanswerable questions. He looks back at Mac and offers only a frown before a whispered curse; his eyes then facing forward and his mind set, at least to get them out of the parking lot. He pulls his phone and quickly calls his wife.

"Don what the hell do you mean you just carjacked a guy and his truck and are on the run? What happened? Where is Pinky?"

"It went south. Look Jessica please don't argue. You have to leave and you have to leave now. Just take your ID and gun and purse and our portable safe and get the hell out of there right now."

"Don…"

"Please sweetheart, don't argue. I need to know that you are going to be safe; if they failed to get me they will come for you next."

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"Get some answers," he answers as he looks back at a lightly struggling Mac. "Dunbrook is behind this and now it's just us versus him. I need that taped killing or we are both dead. But I got one of his informants here…" he utters, forcing Mac to look up in shock and try to utter another small protest.

"Damn it! How long do you think we have to live?" She asks so that even Mac can hear.

"I'd say twenty-four, maybe forty-eight hours at the most. That is if we play this smart and both stay out of sight until then."

"Don…"

"Jessica, go to our special place and wait until I contact you."

"What about Sam's?"

"No, just a place that only you and I know. Don't answer the door or phone for anyone, you understand me? I am alone in this. I have to get that tape. I need that; it's the only evidence I have now that I can prove Dunbrook is the murderer we both know he is. I love you Jess. I'll call as soon as I can."

Tape? Mac's mind ponders. He has taped evidence that could put Dunbrook away for good?

"I love you too Don and I'll call you when I get there. Just be careful."

Flack hangs up and then turns back to Mac with his gun raised. "Now you and I are going to go for a ride and then have a chat."

"Look I don't think…" is all Mac manages before Flack cock's the trigger.

"I will shut you up if you don't do it yourself. I know who you are and who you work for."

"I don't work for Robert Dunbrook," Mac blurts out in haste; preparing himself for another hit. Thankfully none comes.

"Liar! You work for the NYPD right?"

"Listen…"

"I won't die because of your boss!" Flack growls. "Now think on that and shut up until I figure out a plan."

"But…"

"I said SHUT UP!" Flack warns again and Mac knows better than to push his luck; not wanting to be gagged because then he knows his life really could be over.

I have to try to reason with him someway, Mac's mind frantically reminds him. But with his wrists still painfully trapped behind his back, he can do little more than lay his head back down on the seat and pray for two things; a miracle and his head to stop spinning long enough so that he can help that miracle happen by thinking straight.

He looks at Flack's sideways profile, trying to see if his mind knows the man that now shares a common enemy with him. I wonder if I tell him that I am trying to bring down Robert Dunbrook, if he'll allow me my chance to try to reason with him? Will he believe me? Maybe I can help him? I need the facts. What the hell is this all about?

But just before his mind can allow him one further question to dwell on, Mac's ears pick up his phone ringing in the front seat and immediately his heart rate soars once again. Stella!

"I need to answ…"

"NO!" Flack barks angrily. "I'll not let you tip off your boss as to where I am or that I'm still alive!"

"It's my wife," Mac pleads once more. "Her name is Stella Taylor and you'll see her name calling on the display," Mac tells him, praying that it actually is his wife and not his superior, which would add further fuel to his already out of control fire.

"I don't believe you!" Flack counters as he keeps his gaze fixed forward, not glancing down to see that Mac is indeed telling the truth.

"The flowers on the front seat are for her!"

"A likely story!" Flack argues in return as he snatches the bouquet and merely tosses them into the back seat; Mac's heart crushing as he watches them land on the floor in a damaged heap.

"Look at the display!" Mac demands.

"NO! Now shut up!"

"Damn you!" Mac curses as his slumps his head back down on the leather seats.

"Did you just curse me?" Flack asks in disbelief as he slams on the breaks, causing Mac's body to shift forward. Thankfully the large vehicle stops before he can slam into the back seats; his body merely rolling backward, garnering him no further painful encounter. Flack turns to him with the gun raised.

"Do you know the living hell your boss has forced myself, my wife and a handful of other honest officers to endure these past few weeks!" Flack shouts, looking down at Mac with a wild-eyed stare. "Do you know how many sleepless nights we have spent waiting in front of the door, guns ready, for someone to charge through our home and kill us both? Looking over our shoulders even walking down the street in broad daylight? You look at me as if I have lost my mind and yet you were merely going to end my life and now you curse me because I got the upper hand?" Flack finishes his angry tirade. "I'll never let you kill Jess the way you did Farlane's wife."

"Look, you have me mis…"

"NEVER!" Flack shouts as he cocks the trigger once more.

"Okay you're right," Mac starts in haste, prompting Flack to immediately back down. "You have the upper hand and it was stupid for me to curse you. But I also have no idea what the hell you are TALKING ABOUT!" Mac finishes in a shout, his anger finally getting the best of him. He slumps his head back down on the seat and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for only a few brief seconds. "I am telling you the truth, I am one of those few honest officers," Mac pleads once more.

"I don't work with you," Flack argues.

"There are good cops in each station house, not just yours."

"I was told there was none."

"You were lied to."

When he opens his eyes he sees his captor looking at him with an odd expression.

"I said just shut up for now, please?" Flack half begs as he turns around and continues on his way; heading to the one place he hopes he still has a friend he can trust. His fingers slowly start to ease from being tightly wrapped around the steering wheel, his heart still racing and his mind anxious; even more so about the man he has trapped in the back. Is he telling the truth? His name sounds familiar? Who is he? I can't trust him. He's just telling me what I want to hear. How the hell do I get myself out of this?

Mac's mind also races with a million questions about what is going on; but mostly now about how Stella is going to react when he didn't answer the phone. He was already late; they had a few tense arguments during the past week and now wonders if she'll worry that he's giving her the silent treatment. No she'll never think you'd do that, his brain tries to reason. He can only imagine the worry that he's now putting her through and curses himself for taking the wrong turn in the first place.

But as he continues to look at the frantic younger man in the front seat, his mind wonders about the real story. I need to ask the truth. But how do I verify what he's telling me? If he gives me a name, can I trust that? And will I even get the chance to plead my case? And what taped evidence does he have? Mac had long known about the growing corruption inside the NYPD since Robert Dunbrook took over the majority of the payroll, but the city was near bankrupt and although it was with hesitation, accepted his offer to fund the police force from his own Dunbrook Media payroll.

"I know Dunbrook is corrupt," Mac dares to speak up once more.

Flack's lips offer a slight smirk, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the destination ahead of him. If Dunbrook knew that he had a man stationed outside then he figures that he'll be tracking the GPS and he'd be a sitting duck. I have to ditch this vehicle, Flack tells himself. I have to get something they can't track. Have to keep Jessica safe, his mind kept chanting over and over again. He spies a free spot to pull over and does so, his heart picking up the pace as the large vehicle starts to slow down.

Mac also wonders what is going on and strains his neck to see where they are. Without a word he watches Flack get out of the front and then head around to the back; the truck cover being pulled open. What the hell is he looking for? But he quickly gets his answers as the back covers slams shut and he watches his captor get back into the truck and slam the door shut. His fears are finally realized when he sees Flack produce a roll of duct tape and knows that his time is almost up.

"Please don't do this," Mac tries in haste as his ears pick up the sickening sound of the heavy tape being pulled from its roll. "Just don't…" is all he gets out before Flack finally presses the piece of tape over his mouth, silencing him for what he fears is for good. DON'T DO THIS! Mac shouts uselessly into the heavy tape gagging him.

"I don't want to kill you but I don't want to hear your lies either," Flack tells him in an angry tone. "I've heard your name before and I know the men you work with. You are all on Dunbrook's payroll!"

NO! Mac shakes his head, not caring that he's working himself further into a sweat.

"Now if you don't settle down, I'll put you into the damn trunk and be done with it!" Flack barks before he tosses the roll of tape into the front seat and start the truck moving once again; pulling out his phone as he drives away.

"Don that you?"

"Louie I need a favor."

"Anything for Danny's best buddy," the voice of Louie Messer is heard over the phone.

"Meet me at the yard in ten minutes."

"You in trouble?"

"Yes and you leave Danny out of this one, you got me?"

"Yeah I got you. You alone?"

"No. And yes I might need a babysitter."

Mac feels his world starting to sink further and further into despair the longer he is forced to hear his fate being decided by a man that is so wrongly mistaken about him. He hears his captor make a few more arrangements and then hang up, his mind praying for a miracle, one that involves his wife coming to his aid. However, he knows that miracles don't happen and he hasn't been missing long enough yet for her to worry.

Flack eyes the demolition yard ahead of him with nervous, shifty glances, his eyes darting everywhere something moves; wondering if Louie has already been compromised and this is the end for him and his helpless cargo. His mind still struggles with the fate of the man in the backseat, but he tells himself that when he gets the tape, he'll have his proof and that anyone, his cargo included will just be arrested along with Dunbrook.

He slowly pulls into the yard and heads for the office where he hopes his friend is waiting, alone. He brings the truck to a stop and then turns to look at his flushed faced cargo; Mac, who is still lightly struggling for his freedom.

"If you promise to behave and don't do anything stupid, I'll leave you as is. But trust me today and with my life on the line and knowing who you are, I have no objection to just getting rid of you right here."

Mac looks at him in disbelief, praying he'll remove the tape and allow him to at least try to barter for his life once again; hoping to explain that he's not who he thinks he is. But he simply nods his head and then slumps it back down on the seat; hoping to show his willing compliance.

"Fine," Flack offers with a frown as he grabs the keys and then gets out, locking the vehicle and arming it. With his gun still ready at his side, he slowly heads for the office he hopes Louie is waiting. He sees movement and raises his weapon; only to allow his body to offer a small sigh of relief as a friendly face appears.

"You alone?" Flack asks before lowering his weapon.

"Yeah. Are you?"

"He's in the truck."

"Who is he?"

"Some flunkie that works for Dunbrook. I need the GPS removed or at least taken off line in that truck so they can't track me here and I need a vehicle that is clean and fast."

"And what about the guy you got in the truck?"

Flack turns back to the black Avalanche and frowns. Being a fugitive from a corrupt business man was one thing; but being a murderer on the run was something else; something he knew he wasn't about to become. I'll never stoop to Dunbrook's level, never.

"I just need a place to stash him for a few hours while I check on something."

"Such as?"

"Something that will hopefully clear me of all this mess."

"You gonna bring down Dunbrook?"

"I don't know yet but I need to get my hands on a very valuable piece of evidence before it's too late."

"Donnie boy are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"No but I know that I have to do this or Jessica and I, as well as Danny and Lindsay and a few others are as good as dead."

"Okay so let me get started on the truck. Where do you want me to keep your friend?"

"Just a safe place where he can't escape and warn his people or let them know where I am."

"There is a small room in back with no windows and only one door. He'll hafta come through me."

"Louie…" Flack starts only to watch Louie pull his own handgun and cock it.

"Trust me Donnie boy, if he gives me trouble, I'll just give it right back. Just keep him blindfolded and we should have no problem."

"Right," Flack offers a nod before he finally stuffs his gun into the holster under his arm and heads back for the truck; Louie getting the tools needed to deactivate the GPS, hoping to send it off course a little so that even if they track the last location, it'll send them in the wrong direction.

Flack heads for the back of the truck, opens the cover and starts to quickly fish around for anything to keep his captive in the dark about what is going on. He finds what he needs and then heads around to the passenger side; not wanting to hurt him but wanting less of a struggle than before.

Mac hears the back passenger door being opened and once again panic takes hold. He tries to pull himself out of the grasp of his captor but the middle of the handcuffs gets trapped on the seatbelt, rendering his attempts useless and allowing his captor to wrap a piece of dark cloth around his eyes; sealing out the light.

HELP ME! Mac tries to call out in vain as he feels two strong hands grip him under his arm pits and drag him from the back of the truck, the cuffs scraping his skin as they are finally dislodged from the seat belt buckle. His lips offer a muffled grunt as he's once again roughly deposited onto the harsh ground, his senses picking up the smell of grease and the sound of machinery. The demolition yard! Oh god this can't be happening, his mind races in a panic as he hears another voice approaching them.

"Okay Donnie boy, I got the GPS offline and am going to send to my cousin Vinny to work his magic. If they try to come looking for this guy, they'll end up on the other side of the city."

Stella, Mac's heart sinks as he hears the news. He knows that the longer he is delayed without contact that she'll start a search, getting Adam to track the GPS. He had hoped this guy didn't know what to do, but as he listens further to their plans, he quickly realizes that his captor is someone not to underestimate.

"Here," Louie hands Flack a new set of keys. "Take him when you're ready."

WHAT? WHERE TOO! Mac's mouth once again offers garbled words through the heavy tape.

Flack yanks Mac back to his feet, not caring about his disheveled appearance nor the fact that his head wound is still raw and tender.

"Stop struggling!" Flack demands. "You should be used to death by now being around Dunbrook and all."

I'M NOT HIS MAN! Mac grumbles as he tries to yank himself free.

"Fine, maybe I'll just put an end to this right now!" Flack growls as he slams Mac's body up against the nearest vehicle and pulls his gun. He yanks the tape from Mac's mouth and sticks the gun into his neck; his free hand resting around Mac's throat. "You in such a hurry to die, I can oblige you that right NOW!" Flack half shouts, hoping that his scare tactic will force his captive to confess what he knows.

"You have…the wrong…man!" Mac shouts back in ragged gasps, his heart now beating painfully in his chest.

"Turn around!" Flack growls as he suddenly pulls back.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

"No!" Mac stands his ground; his eyes still blind as to what is going on. "You want to shoot me right? Then do so looking at me," Mac finally manages in one whole breath; his heart still nearing critical.

"Fine."

"Coward," Mac dares to offer.

"What?" Flack asks in disbelief.

"Can't even look me in the eye when you kill me?"

"Yeah nice try," Flack snides as he cocks the trigger. "You have one chance, you either turn around or you tell me what Dunbrook paid you to kill me and what his next move is. I'll not let you kill me for no reason."

"I don't work for Dunbrook!" Mac spits in return, his tense frame pulling back as far as the battered vehicle behind him will allow. "I wasn't hire to kill you!"

"I'll give you to the count of ten."

"I'm telling you the truth!" Mac pleads.

"One."

"My name is Mac Taylor. I am a Crime Scene Investigator with…"

"Two."

"Damn it, listen to me!" Mac demands. "I work for Chief Brigham Sinclair. He's opposed to…"

"Three."

"I too am investigating Robert Dunbrook. We can work together to bring him down and..."

"Four."

"You can call my partner Stella…"

"Your wife? Nice try."

"Five."

"Call Sheldon Hawkes, my lead CSI. He can…"

"Another Dunbrook stooge? I'm not STUPID!" Flack shouts.

"Six."

"I was in the area to buy some flowers for my wife. I took that way home because the usual way I take was blocked and…"

"Seven."

"Damn it, listen to me. I can help you!" Mac states angrily, his eyes still blindfolded but his senses directing him to look right at his captor.

"Yeah by telling me THE TRUTH!"

"I AM!" Mac shouts back, standing his ground.

"Eight."

"What the hell can I say or do to prove to you that I am not working for Dunbrook and that I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Nine."

"I want to help you bring him down!"

"Time's up."

"Please just listen…"

"Ten."

"No wait."

"Sorry Mac," Flack sneers as he cocks the trigger, hoping to once again scare the man before him into a confession of sorts. But as he sees the man standing his ground, not wavering or backing down, he now wonders if this man could be telling him the truth. Dunbrook's stooges would have caved by now as they all have in the past. Is he telling the truth? But then the mental battle inside Flack's mind begins.

It's just a trick to get you to spare his life and stall for time so they can find you and kill you, one of half of his brain argues. Let him live a bit longer, maybe he can help you out of this mess and bring Dunbrook down together, the other half tries to be heard.

"Turn around!" Flack demands once more.

"No, you want to murder an innocent man then you'll do it looking at me," Mac states in defiance.

"Fine then I will," Flack answers simply as he presses the gun to Mac's forehead and cocks the trigger once more; his own heart rate matching that of man he's standing face to face with. Was he really going to commit murder?

A/N: okay so what did you think? Want to see more? Obviously I would never kill my beloved and most fave CSI character Mac! Want to see what happens next when they join forces? And what surprises & peril await both of them next chapter? And yeah I like Robert Dunbrook as a villain; wish we had seen him come back! And no this storyline does not follow 'Fall from Grace' (lol yeah it's AU!) Please let me know what you thought in a review and thanks again.

PS: SMACKIES I have also updated 'Pandora's Box' hope you like the surprising twist that is waiting for you all! :D