Chapter One
Sara was irritated. She was cramped into a small seat in the middle aisle of coach class, on a practically empty airplane. She was incredibly tired, eyes itchy, and legs heavy. Greg sat to her right, fast asleep and snoring lightly, his hands twitching randomly as he slept. To his right sat Catherine, eyes drooping half-closed, head resting on her flattened fist. Both were as drained as Sara was on this 16-hour flight from Los Angeles to Sydney, Australia. However, none of these reasons accounted for her aggravation.
To her left, in the final seat of their row, sat a stiff, ill-tempered Conrad Ecklie. More than anything, his mere presence was enough to change her frame of mind. Every little sigh he heaved and every single shift in his seat he made gave Sara the incredible urge to slap his balding head. Each page turn or lick of his finger made her want to grab the book he was reading and toss it across the ten or so deserted rows in front of them.
She sighed and crossed her legs, tapping her right toes against the seat in front of her and drumming her fingers against her seat's arm. She shoved her tongue into her cheek and bit down. To add to her annoyance of being seated next to Ecklie, she was bored. She finished the three books she brought along three hours ago and, shamefully, she hadn't brought anything else to do. There were still ten hours left in their flight, so they had probably just passed over Hawaii. Those ten hours seemed like an eternity in Sara's eyes and she was half-tempted to play Tetris on the video screen on the seat in front of her.
The reason that all four of them were on this plane in the first place was an important forensics conference in Australia. It was an instructional visit, to examine forensic methods of other countries, and Grissom had specifically picked Sara and Greg to go. Catherine went upon request and Ecklie was along for a different reason. Sheriff Atwater had partly ordered him to travel. In Ecklie's words, it was to keep an eye on the other three and make sure nobody got themselves into trouble with the Australians, though all three non-dayshift people highly doubted that.
So Sara, Greg, Catherine, and Ecklie had all boarded the plane from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, a mere 45-minute flight, and then onto this airplane for 16 hours of sitting in one spot with nothing to do. Sara would be sitting in Catherine's seat now and Catherine in hers if Ecklie hadn't ordered them to sit in the spots indicated by their boarding passes. Flustered about where her pass had her seated, Sara had huffed silently to herself, shoving her carryon underneath the deserted seat before her and trying her best to ignore the unsmiling Ecklie.
"Will you stop that?"
Ecklie's voice snapped her out of the boredom-induced recollection. She turned her head to his stern face, wicked half-frown plastered on it.
"What?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice.
"Tapping…" Ecklie hissed, gesturing at her pattering fingers and drumming foot. "It's distracting me from my book."
"Sorry," Sara said, throwing him a sarcastic smile. She stopped, and instead occupied herself by picking at a hangnail. It began to sting, so she bit it off quickly.
"That's disgusting." Ecklie was, once again, on her case.
"Why?"
"You just bit off part of your skin."
"It was a hangnail, and you're not allowed to bring nail-clippers onto the plane."
Ecklie opened his mouth to speak, but Catherine's voice made itself heard, weary as it sounded.
"Will you two stop arguing? Please? I'm trying to sleep."
Sara and Ecklie both turned their gazes towards her, abandoning their squabbling if only for a moment. She was bringing out one of the pillows given to each passenger at the beginning of the flight, tucking it under her reddish-blonde head and sighing as she sunk into its depths.
Sara turned back to Ecklie.
"Now look what you did," she jeered, though she didn't really mean it. Pushing Ecklie's buttons was all too entertaining.
"I didn't do anything."
"Will you excuse me, please? I need to take a walk around," she said, standing and smoothing out her specially bought, crimson silk blouse. The blood rushed back to her legs, causing the newly acquired numbness in them to pass away.
"Go right ahead." Ecklie muttered cynically, pulling his legs up from the floor of the plane.
"Of course," She squeezed past Ecklie's slack-covered legs and into the aisle, placing her hands casually into her jean pockets and walking off. Fear of DVT, Deep Vein Thrombosis, kept her walking every couple of hours. A disease where a blood clot forms in your legs, due to little movement, DVT gave you a sudden, unanticipated death that Sara wasn't in the mood to have.
She walked up the hallway towards the bathroom. There were only about five other people in the airplane, not counting the flight attendants and pilots in the cockpit of the plane. The first person was in the front of the plane, in seat 1B. An old woman, close to the age of seventy, sat there quietly, occupying herself with the small television screen in front of her, selecting from the list of movies.
The other four passengers were family, a man, woman, and their two children. They were seated at the back of the plane. Sara approached them slowly, smiling pleasantly as she neared. She made it look as if she were on her way to the bathroom, when really she was just longing for some company other than a sleeping Greg, irritable Catherine, and bad-tempered Ecklie.
"Hey there," she said, more to the three-year-old girl looking her way, than the rest of the family. She eased to a stop, smiling at the cute girl. Her hair was a dusty brown, curly, with straight cut bangs. Her big, brown eyes held a sort of mischief behind them and their black lashes.
"Hi…" she said, smiling sweetly. She seemed just as anxious in her small, short body as Sara was in her tall one. She wasn't in her seat, but in front of it, playing with some toys scattered across its surface.
Sara smiled again, and then turned her face to the girl's parents and slightly older brother.
"Hi there," The two adults smiled at her.
"Hi," the woman replied. She was seated to the right of the little girl and on her right was her husband, who answered Sara with a grin and wave. Sara returned it then gazed at the girl playing quietly. She sensed her and turned around to her, two toys in her small hands.
"Are you going to play with me?" she asked with the faultiness of a someone with limited speaking experience.
Sara chuckled lightly and stuttered, "Uhh…d-do you want me to?"
In response, the bold child stepped up to her, reached up with her right hand and pulled Sara's left downwards. She shoved a small, plastic McDonalds Barbie doll into Sara's palm.
"Oh, Lauren…" her mother exclaimed. " You don't have to play with her."
"No I don't mind." She was telling the truth. She didn't mind, she was slightly stunned. Lauren turned around briskly and waddled back to her seat.
"Come on," the little girl ordered. "We're playing house."
When she realized Sara hadn't joined her, she twisted back around.
"What are you doing?"
"You know, I'm not very good at playing house."
Lauren pondered that for a moment, before shrugging it off and turning back to her imaginings.
"She's very sweet." Sara acknowledged as Lauren began speaking between her two dolls.
"Thank you." The woman said pleasantly. She outstretched a hand, which Sara leaned forward to shake, holding the doll in her left hand.
"Lily Peterson." Her hair was remarkably like her daughter's, but longer and slightly faded. Her eyes were round, a bluish-green crystal color, which reminded Sara of some of the pictures she had seen of Australia's ocean shores.
"Sara Sidle," Sara replied as they broke apart. She then shook the man's hand, who introduced himself as Joseph. His head had a strong hairline, the hair from the top of his head completely gone and the hairline stretching down in a bowl shape. His facial features were pleasant, a boyish sort of handsome. The man reminded Sara partially of Grissom with no beard and less hair, as well as no double chin.
"And who's that?" Sara gestured at a slumbering boy, about seven years old, by the window.
"This is Matt," Joseph declared, patting the boy's small shoulder as he slept.
"How old are they?" Sara inquired.
"Matt is seven and Lauren just turned three." Joseph replied.
"He looks a lot like you."
"Got his old man's good looks…more hair though…"
Sara chuckled along with Lily.
"So what brings you to Sydney all alone?" Joseph asked after his little quip.
"Oh, I'm not alone," Sara corrected. "I'm here with one of my colleagues and two others from different shifts."
"Work?"
"Forensics conference in downtown Sydney—we're crime scene investigators."
Joseph raised an intrigued eyebrow.
"Interesting work?"
Sara nodded, "It gets pretty strange sometimes." That was probably the understatement of the year. They uncovered some of the most bizarre actions of human behavior. 'Strange' was the very least of what they saw every day.
"What about you? What are you going to Australia for?" Sara asked, wanting to drive the conversation away from herself.
"Ah, I was an exchange student way back in the day. We're all headed over to say hi and hang out for a bit with the people I stayed with."
"Where are you from?" Lily interrupted.
"Las Vegas."
"Ooo…you like the big city?"
"It's all right. I grew up in a small city outside of San Francisco, Tamales Bay. Ever hear of it?"
The adults shook their heads.
"We're from Oregon." Joseph declared.
"Oregon, Wisconsin," his wife corrected. "Another small town."
Sara grinned and the group fell silent. Lauren was the only talkative one, creating communication between her two toys.
"I should…probably give this back." Sara said suddenly, realizing that she was still holding the doll. "Lauren," Sara tapped the girl's shoulder. She spun around and her gaze met Sara's then looked down at her palm. "Here you go, have your doll back."
Lauren turned back around. "No thank you," she said with a small sigh.
Sara raised an eyebrow at Lauren as she continued playing.
"Are you a mother?" Lily asked, causing Sara to glance back her way.
Sara shook her head.
"That's what I thought."
"How can you tell?"
Lily smiled. "Well for one thing, no wedding ring. That's not a good indicator but it makes your chances slightly slimmer." They both glanced down at her undecorated left hand. "Also, you admitted you didn't know how to play house. That could mean that you're possibly the mother of a boy, but mothers of girls always know how to play house. And you acted surprised when she didn't want the toy."
Sara smirked guiltily
"And here it's my job to be observant."
Suddenly the seatbelt light blinked on, drawing their attention to the unspoken command.
"I need to go." Sara said, slightly reluctantly. She didn't want to sit by Ecklie. She really didn't want to sit by Ecklie. She tucked the doll into her back jean pocket.
"Well it was nice speaking with you." Lily held out her hand for another shake. Sara took and shook it, and then took Joseph's hand.
"Goodbye Lauren," Sara smiled at the little girl, giving her a small wave as she turned. The girl returned it as her mother cleared the seat of toys and buckled Lauren in.
"Bye-Bye!" Lauren cried.
Sara grinned and waved again, striding as slowly as possible back to her seat. Her legs finally had the feeling back in them, and her mood had lightened slightly. Restraining herself from stepping on Ecklie's toes, she took her seat and buckled in quickly, double-checking that her carryon was tightly in its place. She then prodded Greg in the shoulder.
"Greg…" she said.
He groaned, sighed, and sunk deeper into his sleep.
"Greg!" Sara said, louder and sterner.
"Mmm…" Even in sleep, his voice was agitated.
"Wake up!" Sara grabbed his shoulder and shook it lightly.
"Wh-what? I'm up…What are you doing here? Errrrr…" he shouted, jumping awake and throwing fleeting glances around the plane.
"Greg, settle down. You just need to buckle up."
Greg wiped his eyes wearily, yawning. "And here I thought I was sleeping at my house…and woke up next to you!" He laughed cheerily, only causing another yawn, receiving some very stern looks from Ecklie. Gulping back his chuckles, he buckled himself into his seat.
"Make sure Cath has hers on too…" Sara ordered.
Greg did just that.
"Yep. Should I wake her up?"
"She'll be mad at you."
Greg shrugged it off then poked and prodded Catherine until she too was awake with the rest of them.
"Whaaat…?" Catherine groaned, clearing some hair from her face, straightening her navy blue shirt, and sitting upright in her seat.
"Buckle light's on."
"So? Mine's on…"
Just then, the intercom beeped. The entire plane fell into a thick silence.
"Goo'day," The pilot's Australian accent was thick as he spoke over the intercom. "It's an afternoon in the Pacific ocean…hope you're all doing good. We have a slight issue I'd like to address before any questions are asked. There's an unidentified aircraft in the area, and that's why I wanted you all to put your seatbelts on. We're trying to contact them to tell them to pull away. They're a bit close. We tell you that this is no need to panic—just a bit of air travel trouble. We're going to pull the airplane down a bit, beneath the clouds, just so that we give them a bit of space. We'll keep you informed and if you have any questions just ask the stewardess."
The intercom clicked off and the CSI's glanced around at each other. All were thinking the same thing.
"What are they thinking, terrorists?" Greg asked Sara.
"They made it sound like just some idiot flying too close." Sara insisted, though she wasn't herself sure, that was the entire story.
"Yeah well, I'm positive terrorists weren't on the itinerary." Ecklie crabbed.
"There's no indication that it's even terrorists." Catherine snapped quietly. "Like Sara said, it just seems to be some idiot flying too close."
The plane's nose tipped forward slightly and pressure began to build behind Sara's eardrums. She swallowed uncomfortably and leaned back into her seat. The surrounding people seemed to express the same discomfort. After about a minute, the plane leveled out and Sara let out a relieved breath, bringing out a piece of gum to un-pop her ears.
"Hand me one of those, why don't you?" Ecklie half-ordered, holding out a hand for a stick of gum.
"And why should I?"
"Because even in another country, I can fire you."
Sara glared, but handed him a stick all the same.
"You owe me," she declared.
"Turn around Sidle."
With a smirk, Sara turned back to Greg and Catherine. They talked randomly for a few minutes before the intercom clicked on yet again.
"Excuse me, again, but the aircraft is not leaving. I'd like to put you all on the alert. We may need to evacuate the plane. Be prepared."
It went off and they exchanged fleeting looks again, much more worried this time.
"You still sure they're not terrorists?" Greg asked.
"Greg, they probably don't have—"
Unexpectedly, a sudden bang exploded through the air, the decibel count close to that of a million freight trains. After the bang, it sounded as if somebody screamed. No one could tell whom. The lights flickered out. The oxygen masks popped down and the half-blinded CSI's struggled to find them and put them on. Sara breathed deeply into the oxygen mask, her palms sweaty, and knees beginning to shake from fear.
What in the world was going on? She already knew. She just didn't want to admit it was happening. She recognized that noise.
The plane tilted, and began to roll onto its side. Again, somebody screamed but Sara was too flustered to tell who it could possibly be—maybe the flight attendant. She clenched the arms of her seat, squeezing until her knuckles went from white to purple. Greg, amidst his slight panic managed to glance Sara's way, and then Catherine's.
He, Sara, and Catherine, demonstrated the same fear, the same crippling weakness as the plane tilted even more. Ecklie didn't appear struck with fear, but he everyone knew he was just as, if not more, frightened than everyone else. Greg cleared his mind enough to set his two hands on the women's clenched fingers. Their fingers laced through his and he attempted to give them a reassuring squeeze.
Another enormous bang sounded, and the plane tilted even more, taking a direct nosedive downwards.