Thanks to Emmithar for betareading.
Chapter 4: Where to go
Greg grasped the steering wheel tightly.
"Drive," repeated the woman in the backseat. Greg pressed down on the gas pedal and drove quickly off the parking lot. He merged into traffic and the woman told him to keep going straight ahead. Greg did as he was told, wondering how he could get help in order to get out of this situation.
"What do you want?" he finally asked.
"You actually," his opponent replied calmly. She gave him directions through the city which he followed.
"I don't know you, so I don't think you know me either," he objected to her answer. The woman did not reply at first and Greg had already intended not to ask anymore, when she finally answered.
"I don't really know you, that's true. But there'll be time to get to know each other." She made as pause as if she was considering something. "I did actually not care who of you I would get. I didn't know whose car this was until you came up to it."
Greg frowned, having no idea what to say to that. He assumed that she meant him and his co-workers and he did not really like the idea. This meant that there was nothing personal that made her do what she did. But it probably did not make him very valuable or special to her either, which was not good in prolonging his possible survival time in a situation like this. Greg took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.
"It was clear that it was somebody from the nightshift. The car had been standing there since last night," the woman rambled on. "I wanted one of the guys, not the old one though." She paused briefly. "What use would I have from one of the girls?" she asked, and Greg wondered if she actually expected him to answer. He was still struggling for a reply, when the still unknown woman continued.
"They can be lucky that it wasn't one of the girls' car, otherwise they could investigate a murder in their own parking lot," she was laughing about what Greg hoped had been a bad joke. They drove some more minutes in silence before Greg received instructions again, until they finally pulled up in front of a garage in a lonesome area. To his distress Greg did not see a single person outside on the street.
"Get out," the woman told him finally. Greg shut off the engine and opened the door on the driver's seat carefully, wondering how realistic and how dangerous it would be to run off. The woman was out quickly though and the gun she was holding into the general direction of him convinced Greg fast enough that running was an unwise idea.
"Do you need any of your stuff urgently?" she asked him now. "I don't mean things like cell-phones or guns," she laughed again.
"I don't have a gun," Greg managed to blurt out quickly, wondering if he had just said the stupidest thing he could have ever thought of.
She ignored his interjection. "I mean, do you need any medication regularly?" she wanted to know. Greg realized too late that a confirming answer might have been helpful but he was already shaking his head.
"Good," was the only comment. The woman reached into her pants pocket and got out a key that she threw towards Greg. It fell down to earth and Greg was motioned to pick it up. He crouched down and took the key, trembling slightly, watching the gun nervously. The woman pointed towards the garage.
"Open the door."
Greg walked over to the building slowly, very unhappy with the fact that he had to turn his back to his kidnapper again. He unlocked the door and opened it nervously. Not really surprised, Greg found a car standing inside the garage. Greg turned around to the woman, expecting her to order him to get into the car, figuring that they were simply changing cars. She did not say anything though but approached a scared Greg with her gun lifted and urged him to the passenger's side of the car.
"Open the door," she said and Greg realized that the door was not locked.
"Sit down." When Greg had seated himself into the car, he noticed to his great wonder the big luggage on the backseat, and to his even greater worry the handcuffs that were fixed to the plastic bar on the door. It was all planned to a scary extend. The woman handed him another key, still holding the gun into his face.
"Cuff yourself," she said, and Greg was about to cuff his right arm reluctantly, when she shook her head.
"The other arm. I don't want that you're tempted to interfere with my driving," she chuckled to herself again. Greg sighed non-audibly and reached with his left arm over his chest so that he was able to cuff it to the door. It was already now very uncomfortable and Greg was not looking forward to how it would feel if he had to stay in this position for long. The woman shut the door roughly what made Greg's position a little more comfortable as he did not have to reach out so far anymore. Before long, his kidnapper had seated herself into the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Oh, before I forget: As I don't want you to fall out, the child safety is enabled," she told Greg. He had not really planned to open the door. What use would it be to him? He was cuffed to the door, the farthest he would get away was by falling out, an idea he did not want to try out in a moving car.
They were out of the garage and onto the street soon and Greg threw a last look back at his car. It gave him hope that the woman had left it standing there, as it increased the possibility that the police would get notice of the place, when the car of a missing CSI was standing on it. That was… as soon as somebody actually noticed that he was gone.
Greg did not know where they were going. The woman just drove silently through Vegas, without telling him anything. Greg thought about what she had mentioned earlier. If it had been the car of one of the female CSIs or lab techs in that she had been waiting in, the Crime Lab would have had to investigate a homicide at its own parking lot. She would have killed. She would have killed Catherine or Sara or another female employee of the lab. And Greg wondered how long he would survive the whole mess.
This last night he had spent working with Sara had been good, the progress they had made, and the joy he had felt, seemed very far away now. It did not feel like it had happened just a few hours ago, but like a long time ago. A long time ago when he had still been carefree. Carefree at least in relation to the deathly situation he was in now.
When would somebody notice that he was gone? It had been the end of their shift. Everybody would expect him to be home and sleeping, nobody would wonder about where he was. Greg had encouraged Sara to call him. But she would hardly do so at a time when he would usually be sleeping. It was a question if she would try to call him at all. Even if she did, it would not help him. His cell phone was left back in his own car. If Sara did not reach him, she would not think further about it. And he doubted she would try it again and again. It would actually surprise him, if she decided to call at all. If she would want to call at that point, at that state of their relationship. It all would not help anyway.
The earliest time anybody would notice that Greg was not where he belonged, would be at the beginning of the shift tomorrow night. Then somebody would maybe try to call him and would not reach him. Then people would start to wonder. Until he would be officially missing, still more time would pass. Too much time for Greg's liking. By then he could be far away, or dead, a possibility Greg quickly banished from his head again. Thinking like that would not help at all.
They had left Las Vegas in the meantime, and it was now that the woman was obviously paying more attention to Greg again. He shifted uncomfortably, his left arm that was cuffed to the door on his right side aching heavily by now.
"So about your job…," she started suddenly, after she had not said anything for what seemed like hours to Greg. Her tone was chatty, friendly almost, as if they were in an everyday conversation. "You investigate homicides, don't you?" she asked lightly.
"Yeah," Greg answered simply. She knew that already as far as he could tell from her earlier comments.
"And, do you have a lot of bodies to work on?" The woman looked at him curiously, amused almost.
"More than enough." Greg shifted again in his seat. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.
"And you don't want to be added to those, I guess?" she asked in a joking tone, causing herself to laugh again, making Greg frowning briefly. That woman was acting as if they were on a joyride. Maybe it was one for her, but it definitely was not for Greg.
TBC