Introduction
It was about two A.M. in a deserted area of Las Vegas, Nevada. The air was a deep cobalt, without a single star in the sky, the only illumination coming from the wailing sirens of the police patrol cars in the vicinity. The last of the two cars peeled into the parking lot of the Las Vegas Mortuary, where Captain Jim Brass was waiting with level three CSI Sara Sidle, who stood with her index fingers hooked through the loop of her belt, both tired and apathetic at the prospect of being up so early to do her job. That's not to say that she didn't love her job; she did. But she needed some sleep. She had been pushing herself so hard on her cases that she hadn't even thought about her home, let alone her health.
Two uniformed police officers approached. They were all dressed in bulletproof vests, Sara included, preparing for the best and worst case scenarios of what they are about to undertake. The officers were checking their guns, making sure their magazines were full, keeping their guns drawn at arms length.
Jim leaned over to Sara. "You carrying?" he asked.
"What?"
"Your gun. Do you have it on you?"
"Of course I do," she informed him.
"Well, then it might be a good idea to keep your gun handy for this one," he told her. "We're dealing with a sick man here."
Sara put a hand on her hip holster and nodded. "Yeah, right, I'll be sure to do that," she replied wearily.
Captain Brass turned to them and called out, "Now guys, we have a tip that inside this mortuary is "Skinner" Walter Wallace, ready to go without a fight. I don't know how reliable our source is, but watch your asses in there." The officers nodded and they all made their way to the door, Sara keeping close behind Brass.
The first officer, a young upstart named Salino, pounded on the door and called out, "Mr. Wallace, this is the Las Vegas Police Department. Open up and come out with your hands up." There was nothing but silence that greeted the men. "Mr. Wallace, this is your second and final warning. Come on out." He was still greeted with no response. "To hell with it."
The officer kicked the door open and they all swarmed in at once, Sara still behind Brass, her gun pointed low to the floor. Sara reluctantly poked her head into the dingy room before slowly making her entrance.
"This place has been abandoned for quite some time," Sara observed.
"How do you figure that?" Brass inquired.
"Look at this place. It looks more like a torture chamber than a mortuary."
Brass took a look around and had to concede with Sara's analysis. It seemed as though there were nothing but butchering products around and laying on a cold slab on the table was a skinned body, strapped down. Sara cupped a hand over her mouth and murmured, "Oh, my God..." They ventured further into the mortuary, where they approached the victim on the table. Sara checked the pulse and the woman jumped, causing Sara to cry out. "Oh, my God," she almost cried, "She's still alive, Brass!"
Captain Brass nodded. "We're going to need a medic in here..." He looked around the room. "He's in here somewhere." There was a slight pause as he turned to Sara. "This really isn't a safe place for you to be, Sara. You should go stand outside."
Sara motioned down to the gun in her hand with her head. "I'm okay, I have my..."
Brass suddenly turned to her, snarling, "Sara, you're a CSI, not a cop. Get outside. Now." Sara nodded and quickly rushed outside. She hears the commotion inside and she notices the inside of the building lighting up and darkening with the incessant gunfire.
Deciding to investigate around the building, Sara moved around the building to try and observe the surroundings and get a better look inside, but all she got was a pain in the back of her head and everything went black.
Half an hour later, more police cars had arrived, alongside an ambulance. Grissom curbs his midnight blue Chevy Tahoe and gets out of the vehicle, moving around to the passenger side to retrieve his field kit. The rest of the CSI crew had beaten him to the scene, Catherine Willows, Warrick Brown, Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders. They stood with Captain Brass, eyes to the floor, already knowing the news that one of them would have to tell Grissom of.
"What do we got here, Brass?" Grissom inquired. He hadn't been briefed, only told that an emergency situation had broken out at the mortuary.
"Two dead cops and a missing CSI," Captain Brass informed him.
Grissom was suddenly confused. "Can somebody please explain to me what happened here? Why do we have two dead cops and a missing CSI?"
"I got a call earlier from an unnamed source saying that Walter Wallace was inside, ready to go without a fight, so I came here with a few officers to check it out."
"Well, from the looks of things here," Grissom said, "he wasn't ready to go without a fight."
Ignoring Gil's response, Brass continued. "We get here, and the next thing I know, I have two officers down and Sara's MIA."
"Wait – our missing CSI – it's Sara?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid so, Gil," Jim replied. He could see the irritation welling up in Gil at that particular second and he wished he had gotten Catherine to give him the news. "I swear to you, Gil, he was in there somewhere. The next thing I know..."
"Well, what was she doing out here on her own with a psychopath in the vicinity, Jim?" Grissom bellowed out at him. "Why didn't you bring more officers?"
"I was told that he would go without a fight," Jim maintained. "So it was going to be a quiet thing. I'm sorry, Gil. It was a mistake on my part."
Biting his lip and fighting the urge to punch Jim in the face, Grissom stalked off to a quiet area. Catherine shot a glance at everybody and took a deep breath before making her way over to Grissom, who had walked behind the mortuary.
"You okay?" she inquired. He was counting his pulse. Not a good sign.
"Just fine, Catherine," he replied politely. Almost too politely. "You guys need to start processing the scene," he began, "Tire tracks, blood, the whole nine yards. Just get it. We don't have a lot of time.
"Sara's in real danger."