Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting. I was having a hard time with this chapter for some reason. I knew where I wanted to go but getting there proved difficult. I'm still not thrilled with it but I think it'll get me to where I need to be for it to be better. I hadn't thought about the security feed until Afrozenheart412 mentioned it in a review but it was a good idea so I had to include it.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Chapter 3
The five hostages from the previous week's robbery were dead. After the leader had shot the first victim, the other four captors had quickly followed suit. Three of the other current hostages had turned their heads to avoid the sight; only Lindsay and the elderly gentleman watched as the other four hostages from the previous robbery took their last breath. She had been unable to tear her eyes away and she couldn't explain exactly why. Part of her wanted to in some way to give the victims a compassionate witness to their demise. Nobody should die that violently with just their murderers looking on. At the same time though, their images kept merging with scenes from her past. Flashes of what she imagined it had been like when her friends had been killed in the diner interchanged with the actual memory of the night Shane Casey had entered her daughter's bedroom and held her hostage. She'd been forced to take his life that night to save her daughter. She kept seeing him fall from her gunshot.
The bodies lay where they had fallen, the smell of gunpowder permeating the air. Even though their captors faces were covered with ski masks, Lindsay could picture their sardonic grins as they exited the large room without a word. They hadn't needed words; their actions had conveyed everything they needed to say without a uttering a syllable. The message was clear, "we are in control and can do anything we want to do to you and you are powerless to stop us."
Once the five were alone, the young slender redhead sank to her knees sobbing. The older woman knelt beside her trying to comfort her as best she could without the use of her hands. The elderly gentleman who had, along with Lindsay, watched the executions, crossed the room, kneeling beside the victims as if checking to see if they were for sure dead. Lindsay stood watching him, feeling the texture of the paint chip in her hand, trying to figure out some way to save them. At long last, the man who had been hit in the van broke the silence.
"We can't just sit back and allow that to be us. When they come back in here, we gotta attack them right off. They won't know what hit them."
"Our hands are tied, literally." Lindsay argued. She broke her attention away from the dead hostages for the first time, unable to believe his idea. "Right now, there's nothing we can do. If we attack, all that's going to happen is that someone is going to get hurt. I'd be okay with that if it could be them that's getting hurt but it won't be. It'll be us. They are armed, both with the use of their hands and with real weapons that will put real bullet holes in us."
The redhead sniffled and looked up. "Maybe she's right; after all if we don't make them angry, maybe they won't hurt us. The police will find us soon; they have to, right?"
The man snorted. "You obviously haven't been watching the news; I have. You think the police are just waiting to bust in here and rescue us? I'm sure that's what those five over there thought last week when they were taken hostage. And the five before them. And the five before them. Fifteen people have already died waiting for the police to get off their hind ends and do their jobs. More if you count the ones who died in the banks they robbed. The Calvary isn't going to ride in here and rescue anybody. What's the worse they can do to us? Kill us? It's going to happen eventually anyway. At least it would be on my terms."
Lindsay bristled at his evaluation of the job the police had done so far. So often people expected the police to be miracle workers. Didn't anyone understand how tough their job was? She was about to open her mouth to defend herself and her coworkers but immediately closed it. Admitting she was a cop wouldn't be good, not even to her fellow captives.
"You think death is the worse they can do to us?" The older man finally left the dead victims and rejoined the group. "Those bodies over there tell the story of what could be worse than death. They aren't going to kill us until they are good and ready to kill us but they can make us wish we were dead a hundred times over. We just need to sit tight and try not to make them too mad until help arrives."
Sensing an impending argument, Lindsay stepped forward. "Look, we are all on the same side here. We can't fight amongst ourselves; we'll get enough of that from our captors. Maybe we should introduce ourselves. I'm Lindsay."
"Amanda. What about you, sweetheart; what's your name?"
The redhead used her shoulder to swipe at the tears making tracks down her face. "Carla. I don't want to die. I'm suppose to get married next month."
"Sam. I'm not going to just sit idly by and let them do what they want to any of us; not if I can do something to prevent it. What makes you such an authority, old man?"
The elderly man sighed. "Dr. Neil Waterson. I was a medic in 'Nam. I was on several missions to rescue POW's. I saw the same story over and over again. Instead of punishing the ones who fought back, their soldiers would retaliate by hurting the innocent. You fight back and they'll make life worse for the others, probably the women. I'm not saying we do nothing; I certainly don't plan to do nothing if they come after the women but we can't go out of our way to antagonize them."
Amanda shook her head. "I shouldn't say this, but maybe this time the police will find us. Our bank uses a tracking chip in case of robberies. It's in the special dye pack. It acts like a GPS tracking device. I'm sure the police will be able to use it to track us."
GPS system. The blow to the head and taser blast must have disoriented Lindsay more than she thought. She looked down to her purse where her phone was. By now Danny and the others would have activated the GPS locator on her phone. She inwardly swore. Her purse, with her phone, was missing. The captors must have taken it when she was unconscious. She knew about the GPS device Amanda was talking about. Two of the other banks robbed had used a similar system. Unfortunately in the modern day of internet search engines, secret ways of tracking criminals or lost items didn't remain so secret. Each of the other times, the thieves had dumped the tracking device before anyone could use it to track them down. However, admitting it was a dead end would only reveal her inside knowledge of the police investigation and crush the hope that was now forming in Carla's eyes.
Sam shook his head. "I wouldn't trust those yahoos at the NYPD to do anything except find a doughnut stand for their coffee break. If we are going to get out of here, it's up to us. Who's with me?"
Finally Lindsay had had enough. She still didn't want to admit to being a cop but she also couldn't stand there and listen to the man bash her profession. "Look, Sam. I don't know what your problem is with NYPD but I can tell you that they've been working their tails off trying to find out who's doing this. Putting off other cases and working long hours of overtime. If a coffee break is taken it's only to be able to stay awake in order to look for more clues. So get over the attitude cause it ain't helping."
Sam glared at her. "What do you know about it?"
"My husband is a crime scene investigator." That part was true enough; she didn't have to admit to being one as well. "He's worked 16 to 18 hour days seven days a week for the past couple of weeks. I can't tell you the last time we've been able to sit down to a meal together. He hasn't been able to tuck our daughter Lucy into bed or read her a bedtime story either. So don't stand there and make it seem like they are doing nothing. God, I can only imagine what he's going through right now." A sob caught in her throat preventing her from continuing. Without really thinking about it, she leaned her head on Neil's shoulder for just a moment, letting the tears fall.
"It's okay, Sweetheart. I'm sure Sam didn't meant to be a complete jerk; he's just not wanting to show how scared he is. I'm sure your husband is going to do all he can do to find you and the rest of us."
Lindsay sniffled. "Maybe we can help them."
Amanda cocked an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"
"Part of the problem is that the robbers haven't left behind any evidence that leads to their identify. Sure, once they are caught, there's tons of evidence that's going to confirm that it's them but until then, nothing. I scratched one of them in the bank. I have his DNA under my fingernails and a paint chip of this building in my hand. If we can get that information to the crime lab, maybe they can find us before its too late."
"They can figure that out from that?" Carla had stopped crying and was staring at Lindsay in amazement.
"It's not a guarantee. The DNA is only good if he's in the system and the paint will only give them a basic idea but it's a better shot than anything else we have."
Amanda shook her head. "But how are you going to get it to them?"
"Oh, why don't we just call up Fed-ex and schedule a pick up." Sam laughed humorlessly. "You're asking us to put our trust in junk under your fingernail and a paint chip? No thank you."
Lindsay cut her head toward the dead bodies. "They'll dump those bodies tomorrow and the bodies will end up at the crime lab. We'll just have to make sure the evidence goes with them." She turned to Neil. "Can you reach in my back pocket? I put a few band-aids in there before my daughter and I left this morning. We were heading to the park and she's forever scraping something. I probably could reach them but I don't want to risk losing any of the evidence."
Turning so his hands were at her backside, the doctor fished the band-aides from her pockets. Between them they managed to get two of the Dora the Explorer bandages opened. She put the paint chip in the center of one and carefully folded it close. Then using a fingernail from the other hand, Lindsay managed to scrape out the material from beneath another one onto a second bandage. Then she closed it up as well. She needed a way to make sure neither bandage was overlooked or lost in the move. Biting her lower lip, she slipped her wedding band from her finger. A tear slid down her cheek as she used a third bandage to secure the other two to the simple gold band.
"How do you know they'll find it and realize it's evidence?" Carla asked awestruck.
Lindsay glanced at the dead bodies and took a deep breath. "I'll put it where it won't be missed."
- CSI: NY - CSI: NY - CSI: NY -
Jo Danville stepped off the elevator into the crime lab. She was exhausted physically and mentally but she knew she had hours of work left. The bank had been a big crime scene to process especially since it was just she and Sheldon there to do the processing. Add in the emotional upheaval of knowing a friend and colleague was in danger and she was ready to go home, crawl into bed and stay there for a week.
She was worried about Danny. The way he had snapped at both her and Sheldon at the bank had been so unlike the young CSI but spoke volumes of the pain and anguish he was experiencing. She was glad Flack had volunteered to go with Danny.
She saw Mac in the break room and headed there. She had been surprised he hadn't shown up at the bank; his crime scene must have been more involved that he had expected. He looked up from the coffee he'd been pouring when she entered. Returning the carafe to the warmer, he offered her the cup.
"Here, you look like you need this more than I do. You okay? I hated having to leave it to you to break the news to Danny. Dare I ask how he took it?"
Jo shrugged. "I think I'm only missing an ear where he bit my head off. Actually, he reacted better than I would have thought, probably because of Lucy being there, but its only a matter to time. Mac, he's all to aware of what Lindsay could go through and how little we have to go on. A person can only take so much and he's just about there."
Mac sighed. He had known Danny for many years now and knew how emotional Danny was. It was what made him such a good CSI. But that passion could sometimes be his biggest weakness as well. "Where is he now?"
"He was going to take Lucy to his mother's. Flack's with him; he'll keep Danny from doing something crazy. He'll be back here once she's settled. God, Mac, that little girl broke my heart. You should have seen the way she clung to Flack like he was some sort of lifeline. She was better once Danny arrived but still you could see how upset she was. How do you explain something like this to a two-year-old? I don't understand it myself and I'm way past two."
There was a softening around Mac's eyes that occurred any time he talked about his goddaughter. "This won't be easy for her but she's a tough kid - she's got too much of both her parents in her. She'll be okay. Danny'll make sure of it even if he's not okay. We'll do our part by making sure we get Lindsay home to her in one piece."
He noticed that Jo was holding a cassette tape. "That the security feed?"
Jo nodded. 'What do you recommend? Danny's the one who's studied the other feeds; if there's anything on this one that will gives a lead, he'd be the one to be able to point it out. But he doesn't need to see this. We know they hit Lindsay. If Danny were to witness that…" She trailed off not needing to finish her sentence.
Mac shook his head. "Not a good idea. I'll watch the tape. If need be, I'll get Adam to pull the other feeds and compare all four. Danny can't work any aspect of this case. In fact, the state his head's going to be in, I don't want him working at all."
"Don't ask me to stay outta this, Mac. I can't. Lindsay's out there hurt and going through who knows what. I ain't sitting on the sidelines here." Danny had appeared at the door while Mac and Jo were talking. His eyes were red and it was obvious he'd been crying. But somehow he seemed a little calmer, more centered. Whatever Flack had done seemed to have helped.
Mac put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You're too involved, Danny."
"I can handle it." He looked at the cassette tape. "If there's anything new on that tape, I'll spot it."
Mac shook his head. "The only think you'll see on that tape if I let you watch it is your wife and daughter. You know what happened; why torture yourself by watching it?"
"I'm already seeing it." Danny admitted. "Mac, I had to clean Lindsay's blood off my daughter's face and I saw the bullet holes that came so close to taking Lucy away from me permanently. Those images have already put my imagination into overdrive. Seeing the reality can't be as bad as that. Time is ticking here, Mac. I know the hell my wife is going to go through if we don't find her quickly. Let me watch the tape. Maybe Lindsay left us a clue on the tape and I know her better than any of you. I'll spot it if she did."
Mac sighed. He couldn't dispute his logic but he still didn't like the idea at all. He leveled his gaze at Danny. "Don't make me regret this."
Danny nodded and took the tape from Jo. Mac followed him to the AV lab determined not to let the younger man watch the tape alone. The two men watched as the tape began to play. Danny stood in front of the screen, his arms folded across his chest. When the tape reached the point where the captor hit Lindsay, his jaw began to rock. When the bullets were fired into the island where his daughter had taken cover, he turned away, closing his eyes against the image. Mac stopped the tape.
"You okay?"
Danny shook his head trying to regain his composure. "I don't get it, Mac. Why'd he hit her? She didn't say anything to provoke him. There was no reason for it. Outside of the hostages and the ones killed in the heist, the robbers never hurt anyone during the robbery before. Why now, why Lindsay?"
Mac shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe their escalating; if they are, they are more apt to make a mistake."
Danny shook his head. "Nah, it was more than that. It was almost like that hit was personal, like he hated her or something. I've got a bad feeling but I can't figure out why. Start the tape again. We gotta finish it."
He returned to watching the feed. He was the one to hit the pause button once Lindsay was dragged out of the bank. "Did you see that?" He rewound the tape to the image of Lindsay struggling with her captor. "She scratched him. That means DNA. We gotta get back to the bank and search some more. Maybe she left his epithelials on the carpet. Maybe we can figure out who's doing this before they have a chance to hurt her anymore"
Mac caught Danny's arm. "Easy Danny. Hawkes and Jo already processed the bank They didn't find any trace on the floor."
Danny's eyes were almost wild now. "But they didn't know to look for this. Maybe they missed it. We gotta take a chance. It may be our only chance of getting my wife back alive." As he was about to leave the room, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID before he answered it. "Hey Ma. What's going on? Hang on, Ma, I can barely understand you." He listened for a moment and then paled. "I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up the phone and turned to Mac, his eyes huge and fearful. "I gotta go. Something's wrong with Lucy."
- CSI: NY - CSI: NY -
Author's note: Like I said at the beginning of the chapter, I'm not really happy with this chapter but I promise better with the next one. I don't think the emotions are as there as in previous chapters but I had to get the evidence on its way to the lab. Reviews are always welcomed.
