View Down The Scope Chapter 1: The Hostage Exchange, a csi: miami fanfic

Disclaimer: CSI: Miami does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, as always. For b8kworm and SunMee. kdeb, you wacko; you spawned this thing, so you take some of the heat. Thanks for the read through. Marianne, what can I say? Oh, and kudos to whoever gets my reference in Spoiler(s).

Summary: He always considered this the still before the storm, before humanity's worst were to be found and judged, before the deliverance to bad news.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): H/C

Spoiler(s): I've renamed the two constellations to Kill Zone major and Body Count minor.

Responds to the Kill Zone challenge on the H/C mailing list: a one part H/C fic that in some way, shape or form, references Kill Zone.

***** ***** *****

Title: View Down The Scope

Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

Chapter 1: The Hostage Exchange

There was a three block evacuation from 1023 Catalonia Avenue where, currently, a former Miami-Dade Police Department member was holding six individuals hostage. He was too good not to know the armed team outside his doors would snake cameras and microphones through crevices. The team realized the hostage taker was cocky, arrogant; he purposely chose to discontinue all audio feedback. All they had was his self-satisfied mug shot as he arranged his hostages around the sole camera left.

Visual surveillance showed the man was armed with a rifle, apparently unregistered to his name. Ample ammunition could be seen in the grainy backdrop of the dimly lit room. No air conditioner; all seven cloistered individuals had sheens of perspiration moistening clothes to their bodies.

The phone line was tapped, and the negotiator commanded the scene. A very well-rehearsed, oiled scene, the team settled in to wait.

Per the usual, Horatio was clocked in by seven thirty; well versed with Miami's mood in high summer, he preferred his morning commute to take place during relatively cooler and quieter air. He made a routine of it, settled with the morning newspaper and fresh coffee, breakfast was long finished.

The halls were quiet, equipment humming gently to itself as the night shift slowly, one by one, handed in their time sheets and left for home. He always considered this the still before the storm, before humanity's worst were to be found and judged, before the deliverance to bad news.

Then everything went haywire.

The Hummer stopped its seventy-five miles per hour speed instantaneously and its passenger was out before the driver had the engine off. Heat waves from the sun's rays reflected off the pavement and obscured the perfect clarity of the early morning light.

Horatio almost could convince himself that the unfolding event was simply a mirage. A luxurious creation of the high temperature upon the gathered unsuspecting minds. He almost could believe that an officer, one he knew quite well, would be simply sitting at his desk, in his air conditioned office, and nowhere near this back street.

He stayed back as the negotiator waved Calleigh over to a spot concealed from the house's main view. Everybody knew the key to successfully resolving a hostage situation was to give the man what he wanted without giving him anything. Right now, he was demanding to see Calleigh, and the negotiator wanted to know why.

A concise conversation, Calleigh nodded at the finish and strode to a van parked about half a block away. The negotiator looked at Horatio before walking over to where he remained by the Hummer.

"Horatio, good to see you. I didn't expect you to be here."

Horatio nodded, showing a terse smile for the benefit of a friend well met regardless of the circumstances. "You want one of my CSIs, Aaron, you deal with me, too."

Aaron grinned and put his hand out for a shake. Civilities over with, they stood side-by-side, two soldiers squaring off against the man inside the house.

"So, I take it you know John Hagen, too?"

"I sure do. Give me a rundown, will you?"

Aaron led the way to his temporary command center, near where he had spoken with Calleigh, and they bent over what information was available. It was clear in the way they discussed the situation that there was history between the two men.

Polar opposites, Aaron's only similarity with Horatio was height. Where Horatio had a dangerous aura about him, Aaron was approachable and had a ready smile. Both well-liked by their colleagues and natural leaders, it was an easy bet on who gave the order and who made the order.

During Horatio's years on the bomb squad, his team joined Aaron's a number of time on volatile scenes like this one. So many times, a hostage taker would manufacture a bomb as a last resort, to be used after Aaron had talked him/her into releasing his captives. When the scene was clear and, the hostage taker cuffed, they would discover sometimes that s/he had triggered the bomb and it was a fight against another sort of clock.

There were many memories of nights and days where they played the waiting game over coffee. Even after Horatio left the bomb squad, they touched based with each other; he only made it through Al's death with Aaron's silent companionship. Aaron had taken it as his duty to get Horatio mindlessly drunk for one night only, and then spent the next three barring any attempt of alcohol consumption. It was a role with which Horatio was well acquainted.

He glanced up in time to see Calleigh walking towards them, in a wardrobe change. Aaron easily restrained him from reacting first and asking questions later.

Voice like venom, Horatio turned to his friend. "Aaron. What's going on? Why is Calleigh wearing Kevlar?"

All Calleigh had to do was stop at Horatio's side and the hostility flipped to warm reception. She was not fooled though and took it upon herself to diffuse some of his ire away from Aaron.

"John's asked to see me. I'm going to go in, make sure the hostages are all right, and come right back here. Piece of cake."

Aaron kept his hold on Horatio when Calleigh turned and walked to the fortified house. Immediately when the door shut behind her, they sprinted for the surveillance van and glued their eyes to the screen. Audio cackled and popped and Hagen's sneer came loud and clear.

Horatio relaxed slightly the moment Calleigh's form granulated the left-hand side of the monitor. He watched intently for any nuance that would indicate trouble. All he saw were fires of lit contempt; it reassured him only an iota. He did not breathe easily until she walked straight out of the house and into the van where they could disseminate her information in private.

Their plan of action tortured him. Why he ever agreed to it he would never know, and he never wanted to explore that small vacation from reality he took while he agreed. He was not ready to discover what secret he hid from even himself.

Aaron called Hagen to confirm the exchange - Calleigh for the six innocent bystanders of Hagen's dive off the deep end. Then, as soon as the hostages were safe and being taken care of, the team would breach the house; Calleigh, as an officer of justice, would and could take care of herself. All she had to do was try to: a, distract Hagen from using the rifle or b, force him to surrender peacefully.

Once again, Calleigh left the men to suit into a different sort of attire. She would keep the wire as backup, in case the situation spiraled out of hand; nobody was willing to risk her life for any reason. She needed to find some way to conceal a weapon on her body so she was not completely helpless.

Aaron was impervious to the blackness of Horatio's mood; he had seen worse over the years. Just as he knew that, he knew Horatio needed something to do, anything to focus him, to keep his mind off of the what-ifs. He had just the job for him.