Stockholm Syndrome
Chapter One
It was right around noon when Calleigh, Eric, and Ryan arrived at the crime lab, ready to work. They all looked much better than they had the last couple of days – there were no more dark circles under their eyes, no more exhausted looks on their faces, and no more wrinkled clothing on their bodies. On top of their joy at having solved what had been an extremely tough case, Horatio had told them to come in four hours later than usual. The CSIs normally put their lab coats on at eight o'clock in the morning, but the leader of the MDPD Crime Lab had decided to let his team sleep in today. After the last two days, they definitely needed – and deserved – the extra rest.
…Which they had taken more than willingly. Calleigh could've easily slept much longer than she had, but ten hours of sleep was enough for her to function throughout the day. Her morning cup of coffee would certainly help her, too.
It was like a tradition with the CSIs – after they arrived at the lab and put their belongings away, they would gather in the lounge and have a cup of coffee while they talked about various things. They had been doing it for years.
"As soon as I got home, I was out," Eric said to his two colleagues. He was seated on the couch with his feet propped up on the small table in front of him. "I didn't even bother to call my mother to apologize again for missing dinner."
Ryan, sitting in an armchair opposite Eric, took a sip of his coffee and then nodded. "Yeah," he started, "I went right to the bed, too."
Eric shifted his position on the couch so that he could see Calleigh, who was preparing her own coffee at the counter behind him. "What about you, Cal?"
"Same as you two," she said, ripping open a packet of sugar. "I was so worn out that I almost overslept, too." She poured the sugar into the steaming hot coffee and tossed the wrapper in the garbage.
The three CSIs spent the next few minutes conversing about their lives before Ryan spoke up. "Hey," he started, making sure to get Eric and Calleigh's attention, "Where's Natalia?"
Three pairs of eyes looked up at the clock above the door – 12:15.
"Maybe she overslept," Calleigh commented.
Eric had his phone out. "Then I'm going to give her a wakeup call." He punched in her cell phone number and waited quietly for her to pick up. Ring. Ring. Ring. There was one more ring before it went to voicemail. Eric left her a quick message, reminding his colleague that they'd had work at noon. "Let me try her house," he announced to Ryan and Calleigh as he hung up, then dialed Natalia's other number. He wasn't any more successful with her house number than he had been with her cell, because he once again received her voicemail. He left her one more message, and then hung up. "Maybe she's in the shower." That was a possibility.
Suddenly, a beeping noise filled the room. All three CSIs looked down at their beepers – two of which were going off. Calleigh and Eric unhooked theirs from their belt to read them while Ryan waited in silence. After a few seconds, Calleigh spoke up.
"Shooting downtown." She looked from Ryan to Eric. "Let's go."
With that, the two senior CSIs were off, leaving Ryan behind alone. "Okay," he called after them, despite knowing that they were already out of earshot. "I'll just sit here. By myself." He went to take another sip of coffee when his boss, Lt. Horatio Caine, walked in.
"Good morning, Mr. Wolfe," the red head said to his employee.
"Good morning, H."
"I take it that I just missed Calleigh and Eric?" Horatio asked, placing his hands on his hips as he looked out into the hallway.
Ryan placed his cup of coffee down on the table in front of him. "Yeah," he responded. "Just got a call out."
"And Natalia?" The Lieutenant turned back to Ryan.
He shrugged. "I don't know… She must be running late. Eric called her before, but he got her voicemail."
Horatio stood quietly for a moment or two, staring at the floor. Ryan tried to figure out what he was thinking, but it was no use – his boss had always been unreadable.
"Why don't you drive over to her house, Mr. Wolfe?"
Ryan knew that wasn't a question. With a nod, he stood up, tossed his coffee out, and left for Natalia's house.
The ride from the lab to the small neighborhood in Coconut Grove took no more than ten minutes. As Ryan pulled up to the large house, he spotted his colleague's car still in the driveway. "So she did oversleep," he said softly to himself as he exited the vehicle and made his way to her door. Before he reached it, though, he saw something that made him stop.
In front of the CSI were a purse and keys – both Natalia's. They were lying on the ground, as if they had been dropped. Immediately, Ryan reached for his gun – he didn't like this. He held the firearm firmly in his right hand as he used his left to reach for his cell phone, flip it open, and dial Horatio's number.
The second Horatio picked up, Ryan began. "H," he said, "I'm at Natalia's and something is wrong."
After hanging up with his boss, Ryan waited rather impatiently on Natalia's porch, his gun still out and ready to be used if the need be. Horatio had told him not to touch anything, not to go into the house, until he got there… which didn't take too long. Horatio was there within four minutes and breaking down the door within five.
The two CSIs made their way through the house, calling for Natalia. They went from room to room, finding each one empty. After checking the last room, which was also unoccupied, Ryan secured his firearm and turned to Horatio.
"Where the hell is she?"
Meanwhile, in another location, Natalia was coming to. Her brown eyes fluttered open, then tried to focus on her surroundings. She was in a room. The walls were off-white and the carpet a navy color. The only objects she could immediately see were a wooden table with two chairs and a lamp overhead. In front of the table, closer to her, was a video camera set up on a tripod. They were all sideways.
Actually, she was sideways. She was lying on a bed. And as she tried to sit up, she realized that it would be somewhat difficult, as both her hands and feet were bound. Another piece of duct tape was covering her mouth, preventing her from talking or yelling.
Once she was able to sit up, she now had an opportunity to see the rest of the room. There was a nightstand on each side of the bed, both topped with small lamps. To the left of the bed was a closed door and to the right of the bed was a bureau. Poking out of the same wall that the bureau was against was a staircase leading upstairs. The staircase was as far away from the bed as it was from the table.
There were no windows on the walls. She had to be in a basement. But whose basement? Was it in Miami?
Just as she tried to recall last night's events, she heard a door open and close, then footsteps coming down the stairs. Natalia stilled completely, her eyes wide as she waited to get a look at who she assumed was her captor.
"You're finally up," said a scruffy voice as the person made the last few steps down the stairs. "Took you long enough."
Natalia kept quiet as she watched the person approach her – he was a white male, possibly early forties. He had to be at least six feet tall and weigh somewhere around two hundred and fifty pounds. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a short beard – as if he hadn't shaved in a few days.
There were so many questions Natalia wanted to ask, but the duct tape made that impossible. It was as if the man had read her mind, though, because within the next second, he was explaining everything.
"I, Ms. Boa Vista, am Jason," he said as he made his way over to the other side of the room. Sitting down at the table, he continued: "And I need your help."
Natalia kept a stone expression on her face, hiding her fear as she waited for Jason to go on. What did he need her help with?
"You see, you MDPD CSIs put a friend of mine away for a crime he didn't commit." The calm look that had been on his face was slowly and subtly turning into frustration, which she immediately noticed. This wasn't going to be good.
"Now, that's where you come in," he said, pointing to her. "I've written a letter to your friends over at the MDPD letting them know that I've taken you captive. When they let my innocent friend go, I'll let you go." He stood slowly and started his walk back toward Natalia. "And if they give me a hard time about it," he tapped the camera as he walked past it, closer to Natalia, "I'll make sure to send them plenty of video updates, each one showing them how much pain I'm putting you through."
He leaned down so that he was just inches from her face.
"So much pain that you'll wish you were dead."
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A/N: Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnn!
