Chapter 4
Brass had managed to push back all the TV crews and restrict their live coverage, but it was too late, the damage was already done. Every household in the state saw the images of Sofia through the glass door. After a quick phone call with Grissom he finally understood the full meaning of the message around Sofia's neck. Apparently the last line referred to a website for webcasts. That meant that whatever this gang had in store it would be completely uncensored and even worse, fully public. There was no way they could shut down the site before the ten minute deadline which meant that time was running out to execute a rescue plan. SWAT was at the scene and the tactical officers were reviewing the building blueprints with Brass for potential entry points. Everything looked locked down pretty tight except for one section of wall separating one of the offices from the adjacent building.
"It looks like there may have been a door here once, were these buildings shared at any time?" asked Captain Taylor.
"Um, come to think of it this bank used to be bigger. I guess they must have downsized a few years ago and sold off some real estate," replied his lieutenant.
"Well then, this looks like our entry point," replied Taylor. "It's a weak point in the wall so we can set up small scale explosives to punch through. The only problem is it's a tight fit so we'll have to enter one by one."
"But that means we won't be able to reach the hostages before the gang starts shooting," argued Brass.
"Yes, that's true, so we'll go in under a cover of smoke bombs and tear gas," replied Taylor.
"Tear gas," exclaimed Brass, "isn't that a little extreme, there are civilians in there?"
"I know it's not ideal but it's our best chance for a safe outcome, no discussion," replied Taylor, curtly.
Brass frowned. He could feel the bile rise from his stomach. He didn't like this plan; there were civilian hostages in there, not to mention Sofia. But Captain Taylor had tactical control and besides, he didn't have a better idea.
"Okay," Brass said grimly. "Let's go over the scenario one more time, we've only got one shot at this."
Back in the crime lab Catherine stood in the middle of the break room, surveying the damage - smashed mugs, tossed paper, upturned chairs. Nick had worked the room over in a rage before storming off, closely followed by Warrick. There was only one place he was headed, the bank. He was gone before she could stop him, not that she was going to. The remainder of the team had dispersed pretty quickly too. She guessed Grissom was back in his office. She didn't know where Greg and Sara had gone. News of the broadcast had spread quickly and the whole lab was watching events unfold at TV screens and computer monitors. Catherine made her way to Grissom's office. She found him sitting at his desk talking on his cell phone. He hung up as she entered.
"Was that Brass?" she asked.
Grissom nodded. "They're working on a rescue plan."
"What can we do?" asked Catherine.
"Keep processing the evidence, find out as much as we can about these guys," came his reply.
"Gil, I read the sign, I know what it means," said Catherine.
At first Grissom said nothing, he just looked at her. Finally he spoke, "Well in that case make sure Archie records the feed, it'll be needed for evidence."
"You're not going to watch it?" asked Catherine, surprised.
Grissom cocked his head quizzically, "Why would I want to?"
Catherine nodded her agreement and left Grissom's office to round up what was left of the team. Greg was back in the lab processing evidence but there was no sign of Sara. Her search finally brought her to the female locker room where she found Sara standing at a sink, washing her tear-soaked face.
"Sara, are you okay?" Catherine asked in a concerned voice.
Sara hadn't heard Catherine enter the room and was startled by her. She recoiled a little but recovered quickly before answering, "Yeah, sure. I'd better get back to work…"
She made a move to leave but was stopped by Catherine.
"Look Sara, I can only imagine how hard this must be for you."
The words caught Sara off guard. How could Catherine know about her feelings for Sofia? She faltered a little, then swallowed hard, ready to confess everything before Catherine continued, "I can only imagine the memories it must bring up for you."
That's when Sara realized she was talking about something else entirely, about her own captivity under that car in the desert.
"It's fine, really. I'm okay," came Sara's quick reply.
And with that she stepped around Catherine and left the room.
"Hey Man, wait up!" shouted Warrick as he chased Nick into the parking garage.
"Don't try and stop me Rick, I'm going over there. Sofia needs me," replied Nick without breaking his stride. His jaw was set hard and his fists were balled.
Warrick had never seen Nick like this before. He had taken anger to a whole new level, but there was something else behind the rage, he was scared.
"Okay Nick, but I'm driving."
The drive to North Vegas seemed to take forever. Nick passed the time in impatient silence with his fists still balled, knuckles white. His mind was racing. How was he going to save Sofia? He could just burst through the front door and shoot them all. Or maybe he could trade, him for her. Maybe Brass had figured out a way in. If so, he definitely needed to be part of it. He couldn't get the image of a captive Sofia out of his head. She'd been injured, the blood on her face told him that. He shuddered at the thought. But it was the look in her eyes that chilled him the most. They way they darted around as if looking for someone, for him. When she needed him most he wasn't there for her. He wasn't going to stand idly by while they hurt her even more. He was going to do whatever he could to save her, just like she saved him at the Fischer scene. Nick hadn't known bravery like it. He didn't feel particularly brave himself right now. It was fear that propelled him. He couldn't let her down again.
Sofia, wrists and ankles still bound, was sitting in the middle of room. She knew something was up but she didn't know exactly what it was. Her police instincts told her that it involved her and whatever was about to happen, it wouldn't be good. The gang had concocted some sort of plan to bargain their way to freedom and she was the chip. Maybe if she tried talking to them, she might figure out what was going on. Before she had a chance to do anything, Number Five looked at his watch and spoke.
"Time's up."
