A/N: For the sake of it, I'll mention that I do not own anything that CBS'll claim they own. You know what I mean...
Anyways, This is a fairly long chapter. I had time; I needed to get my anger out on something. My local hockey team (that I watch, not play in...go Clarenville Caribous!) lost in the last five seconds...it was sickening. So, that equals long chapter. My posting from now on may be sporadic, as mid-term exams are approaching. Hopefully I can finish before then. But that is then, this is now. Here you go folks, enjoy! CHAPTER 8: PLAY WITH THE DRAGON…
The evening sun was just in the middle of its descent, and though the air was cooling down, it was still very warm. Greg sat down on the ground, under the shade of a large tree, trying to cool off and catch his breath. He tried to stop his heart from beating so hard, but it wasn't the adrenaline from the great escape he had just pulled off that made his pulse spike. He felt bad; not for running from Nick because it was Nick that was trying to baby him, keeping him from doing what he felt he needed to do. No, he felt bad for not telling Sara himself. Now Nick was going to tell her, and make her worry. He leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and closed his eyes. He hadn't even run that far. He drove all the way to the park, after getting out of his second story apartment, and then he had run only the distance to a little grove where he could hide from anyone that knew him. Why, then, did he feel so light-headed?
Greg shivered as a breeze whistled in his ears, making the hair on his arms stand on end. He knew exactly why he felt so sickly. Everything that Nick had said, about the dangers, and worst of all, the danger that he posed to Sara and the twins if something went wrong, was right. And no one was there to help him. He had to do it all alone.
In a way, that suited Greg just fine. He didn't want to involve anyone else in the dangers that he was pursuing. It would kill him if someone was hurt of his accord. However, a cold ache resonated in his body at the thought of dying alone.
Greg opened one eye at the ringing to his side, where he had tossed a sweater, his wallet, and his cell phone, all in a tangle from his rush to get away from Nick. It was now his ringing cell phone that caught his attention, bringing him from the depths of his thoughts. He picked it up, and with a little hesitation, answered. "What do you want, Nick?"
"…Truce?" Nick's voice came through from the other end, mildly, nothing like his rage at the apartment.
"That really depends, Nick, on if you plan on putting me in a car seat and feeding me from a bottle, or helping me." Greg replied brazenly, as if he really was a child.
There was a slight pause, and then, "Yeah. Yeah, Greg, we're helping you. We have your back."
"We?" Greg asked, Nick's whole statement taking him by shock. "Have your back? I just wanted you to be aware that I was doing this…we?"
"Greg…I'm sorry, man. I had to tell her."
"…You told Sara." Greg said, more than asked. A lump formed in the pit of his stomach. And he felt a welling rage at Nick. "You promised you wouldn't."
"…I know. But I had to. You left me no choice. However," Nick paused here. "I've seen Gabriel. I can see now where this foolish righteousness comes from. So, the three of us, Sara, you and me, are going to make sure these kids get out of the country alive."
A bright grin spread across Greg's face. "R-really? You'll help me?"
"I don't really have a choice in the matter, actually." Nick confessed. "Between looking at Gabriel, and keeping Sara off kamikaze missions, I'll have to do it. Not that anyone's twisting my arm now." He paused again. "I'm still worried about what may happen, Greg."
"Nah, no need to worry Nick, I'll be careful." He assured Nick. "Well, I'll try."
Night had fallen once again on the city of sins, though on the strip one could hardly tell. The sky was filled with neon stars, illuminating the way ahead for passers-by, attracting them to casinos like insects to flowers. Sara and Nick were parked a few blocks away from the Dragon's Den, and they waited in the parking lot for Greg to appear. Both were thinking different thoughts.
Nick dwelled on the thoughts about the trouble that Greg could get in for doing this, both with the lab, and with Santosa Perkasa. He thought of Gabriel, and the twin he hadn't met yet, but knew that he was just as enchanting. He also thought about a life for the twins where they were not persecuted for the mistakes of their parents.
Sara's thoughts hovered over her dogged concern for Greg. She was still angry with him for doing this stupid, crazy, dangerous thing, and another part of her loved him more for it. Part of her ached, knowing that Greg didn't know that. She thought of the twins also, and harboured the same thoughts Nick did. More and more with each hour that passed, she became more attached to them, to the idea of mothering, to the ferocity that mothers feel for their offspring. Even though biologically they were not hers, she thought of them as hers, and over and over she promised to protect them with all the power she had. And another thought kept crossing her mind…no, more of a feeling, in the pit of her stomach. She felt like there was pressure, building up outside of her, that all that was happening around her would remain still, and then all of a sudden it would explode and leave them broken. This horrible feeling she attributed to this night's activities.
Headlights pierced the darkness as a large vehicle pulled up three spaces over from Sara, one space back, and stopped. Both of them looked out of Sara's window, and saw a man dressed in all black, with a black cap pulled down over his head. It was only his smile that gave him away. Sara and Nick hopped out of their own vehicle and ran over to Greg.
Greg looked up to see them coming, and heaved a sigh. "Well, it's D-day…take two."
"Yeah." Nick said, and looked up at Greg, who looked much more confident than he felt. He took him into an embrace and clapped him on his back. "Don't do anything stupid Greggo."
"I can't promise you that." Greg said, though not in his usual jovial way.
"I can promise you that if I think anything's happened, I'm finding a way in after you." Nick added, also in a serious tone. They broke the embrace, and with a nod to Sara and Greg, he made his way to another casino, one that was close to the Dragon's Den. It was his stake-out point. Part of their plan.
Greg now turned to Sara, expecting some more words of encouragement and 'don't do anything out of your league' lectures. Instead, she just seemed to hug herself, looking sadly to the side, avoiding his gaze as she did in the car, when they were heading to Matthew's crime scene.
"Aw, come on Sara," Greg pleaded, "Please look at me, talk to me, make it seem like this isn't the last time we're going to see each other again."
"How can I think of it any other way?" Sara asked him, her voice low.
"I will come back Sara, just you wait and see. I have Nick now, and if I run into any trouble, he'll come in and rescue me, as usual." She still didn't seem convinced.
"You have to promise me that you'll be in to work tomorrow." Sara finally said, quickly. She looked up at Greg with a tiny grin that made Greg take her into a hug.
She felt him laugh against her shoulder. "Perish the thought of me leaving you with my backlog of work, Sara. Don't worry." He added, whispering into her ear. They broke off their embrace, and with a last look at each other, Greg turned away and headed towards the familiar back-way, to enter the true home of the dragon himself, Santosa Perkasa. Sara watched his every footstep, and with every echo she heard in the quiet parking lot, she felt her heart ache painfully. She forced herself to turn away, and she walked to her own post.
Oblivious to Sara's eyes boring holes into his back, Greg walked briskly to the old cement basement way to the Dragon Den's inner chambers. The night was still fairly young, but the stale scent of Las Vegas, the scent of alcohol, gambling, of sin, was hovering in the air around the strip. They had parked a few blocks away, but Greg found himself at his destination all too soon. The well-known neon Komodo dragon made him squint with its serpentine tongue flashing hot pink on second-long intervals making it seem like it tasted the air, looking for something to pierce with razor fangs and inject it with its foul poisonous saliva. Its brown eyes seemed to watch Greg as he peeked his way around the corner, to the back way.
Once out of the eyes of the neon dragon, Greg seemed to be able to calm his racing heart. He jogged to the other corner, and turning around, found only a few people lined up. That was part of their plan; to come early. Maybe if he was less overwhelmed by how many people were willing to kill to have some power, he could find someone higher up in Perkasa's ranks, and find out some useful intelligence. The small group he had seen had already made their way through the door, and Greg followed behind them, down the somewhat familiar steps, down, down, deeper within the basement of the Dragon's Den, to the fairly luxuriant gathering hall for thugs and thieves. Greg smiled as the blast of gold and red light reflected back into his eyes. It was far less crowded with people, and even better than that, there was a person in a group to the very farthest end of the hall that Greg recognized.
The man was huge; tall, broad-shouldered and muscled to the max. He was one of Perkasa's closest bodyguards. He was present when Greg first saw Perkasa, just a night ago. Greg slowly walked up to him, and the rest of the men, that seemed to be in deep discussion. Slowly, he eased himself into the circle until it seemed like he was always a part of that group.
"It seems like a lot of the men are too scared to try getting at these kids, Mercer." One of the more raggedy men spoke to the bodyguard. "Perhaps Perkasa will just have to let this one go."
The bodyguard known as Mercer sighed. "This is one battle Perkasa is not going to give up." He spoke to the whole group, addressing them as Perkasa did. "Something about this is driving him mad. It's probably the fact that the job wasn't finished right, and it looks like he showed mercy. He'll stop at nothing to see those kids dead at his feet."
"I don't see how that would happen." A familiar voice spoke, but when Greg tried to look in his direction, his face was hidden by a large black hood. "The police are looking after these kids twenty-four hours a day, and no matter how much I try, what with others helping to create diversions, we aren't opening any holes. I don't see how anybody can get at them without getting caught. Perkasa will have to go in on his own if things keep up the way they are."
"I don't doubt he would." Mercer said, shrugging his shoulders. "The more that people fail at the task the angrier he gets about it. He will either get those kids or die trying."
"Why wouldn't he leave them be?" Greg heard, and when he realized it was his own voice forming words, he nearly swallowed his tongue. "I mean, their parents are dead, right? It's not like the kids themselves could have done anything to harm him. Why not let them alone?"
Mercer snorted. "That's not Perkasa's way of doing things. He has to kill all witnesses, even if they're not old enough to remember the incident. I guess it's not in his nature to show any mercy towards living creatures."
Greg shivered. "But there's so much at stake for Perkasa…the risk isn't worth the reward unless you have a sure-fire plan."
Mercer now directed his attention to Greg, along with everyone else in the circle, making Greg feel small. "You seem to have a vested interest in Mr. Perkasa, though I've never seen you before. May I ask why?"
"Eep." Greg felt the perspiration gather on his brow as he looked upon the dozen pairs of eyes watching his every move, a dozen pair of ears waiting for his reply. "Everyone knows that to make it big in this town, you need to get with the right people. Santosa Perkasa is the biggest name in town, and I've got nothing to lose, everything to gain. Why wouldn't I come here, and try to get in good with Perkasa?"
Mercer stared long and hard at Greg, but then a smile appeared on the man's face. "Cheeky young'un, but that's what you need in this business."
"That and news." Greg replied.
Mercer's smile faded again. He looked at all the other faces, and with a simple nod of his head, the rest of the men scattered. It was just him and Greg now. Greg felt more confident now. "You have news?" Mercer whispered to Greg, leading him by the shoulder guided by one of his bear-paw sized hands. "What kind of news?"
Greg gave a smug smile, playing the part of a street-wise thug who had something the higher-ups didn't, but needed. "Yeah, I have news, and I have a feeling that Perkasa would like this news. It could end all of his troubles with these brats he's intent on destroying."
Mercer stopped at the very end of the hall, in front of the doors painted the rich ruby red. He seemed to hesitate, looking between the door and Greg in indecision. Then, he seemed to make up his mind. "Wait here." He said to Greg, and rapping on the door, he was let in from the other side. Greg stood there, running over what he was going to say over and over in his head. He remembered very clearly what they had planned. He took a shuddering breath. He knew the risks; Nick and Sara never said two sentences together without adding in the risks of what he was doing, if the dragons never bought his plan. However, to help Matthew and Gabriel, to help all the other people that would eventually become Perkasa's target, how could Greg refuse to do this?
Greg started to pace the small platform in front of the doors, until he heard the creak of hinges in need of oil to his right. He turned, and he saw a floating hand beckoning him. Greg followed the hand, saying silent prayers in his head for everything to work, for all of this to be over. Squeezing through the small space between the doors, he suddenly found himself in a very dark room. Only a small glow, like that from a firefly, could be seen at the opposite end of the room. The doors closed behind him with what seemed like a deafening slam, causing Greg to wheel around. "Oh God I'm going to die." Greg thought in panic. Strangely, he was driven to think of the old monster movies he watched, where the main character got trapped in the room with the evil creature. With a little relief, Greg remembered that usually, the main character managed to escape. But that was the movies.
The light suddenly started to grow a bit, and it pierced the darkness enough for Greg to see a large ebony desk at the end of the room. Greg saw the behind profile of Mercer, who was talking animatedly to the man sitting at the desk. Greg's breath caught in his throat. It was Perkasa. "Damn, even his desk is imposing." Greg thought as he stood there like a marionette without strings watching the scene. They were speaking too quietly for even Greg's ears to pick up.
Mercer finally turned, and looked at Greg, but never spoke. He walked past Greg with a void expression, and walked back out the way he came in. Greg kept looking after him until that familiar foreign accented voice called his attention to the front. The coldness and authority in that voice shook Greg to the very core of his soul. He felt like running away.
"Do you hear me?" Perkasa repeated, impatience growing in his voice. Greg turned his head towards the desk out of sheer fear of not wanting to piss off this man. The voice with which he spoke greatly contradicted the sight that Greg saw. Even more close up Greg could not see where the intimidation came from. Santosa Perkasa was not in the least a bit physically daunting. Greg was more afraid of Nick and Warrick. And then he spoke again, and the fear returned. "You have news?"
Greg walked a few steps closer to the desk. "Play it cool, play it cool...","Yeah, I have news. I think you'll find it quite interesting."
Greg was glued to the spot under Santosa Perkasa's glare. Black eyes void of anything but callousness peered over at him over clasped hands. He watched everything; those eyes were his secret weapon. They missed nothing. Greg could almost hear the cogs turning in Perkasa's head. This was a man of great mental capabilities. This would all boil down to a game of wits, Greg realized. He had to be ready to play.
"Is that so?" He replied after a while. He pointed to a chair in front of the desk, but said nothing else. Greg took it as a cue to sit, hoping it would not flip upside down and lead him through a tube to acid. Now his thoughts were just going silly. "Would you like to tell me this news?"
"I'd be happy to, for a price." Greg said, giving Perkasa a sly smile.
Perkasa returned with one of his own. "A price? Do you realize who you're dealing with?"
"I do." Greg answered, hoping he wasn't going too far. "But I have what you need, and nothing but my wants, paid to me by you, will make me give it up. You cannot get something from nothing."
Santosa looked at Greg incredulously, but then started to chuckle. "I like men with attitude. If I had sent someone like you to do my job the first time, I wouldn't have this problem. Fine. What is your price?"
Greg smiled. "I just want to be in your good graces. To have some weight in this town."
Perkasa once again acquired a look of amazement. "This is all you ask?" Greg didn't answer in words, but nodded in the affirmative. "You are easily pleased. Very well. All that I may do to make sure you gain some credibility with the higher ups in this town will be done. Now," He said, leaning forward in his desk, "what is it that you have managed to hear?"
Greg's confidence grew. Perkasa thought he was mentally getting the upper hand, in promising something of little weight to a lowly, stupid peasant who was hungry for power. How wrong he was. "Straight from the police, they're planning on moving the Powell baby from the hospital to the same child services place as the other child tomorrow around three in the afternoon."
"Ah!" Santosa Perkasa stood up quickly, revealing just how short a stature he really had. "Finally, he leaves!"
"I also know that they plan on taking a really strange route, straight through Summerlin and back."
"Where did you hear this?"
"It's amazing how much you hear when you stay in overnight for a drunken disorderly." Greg replied. "The guards aren't that cautious of whose ears they let secrets to. Even drunkards can remember some things."
Perkasa looked at him, still standing with his hands placed on the desk. "This is interesting news indeed."
"How you use it will be up to you. I'm just a messenger."
"Yes." Santosa Perkasa already seemed to be thinking of a plan of action. A minute later, he looked at Greg. "Thank you, young man. You may go now, with my blessings."
"No, thank you." Greg said as he got up. He was walking out of the room but took one last look at Perkasa, who had started to pace the room, lost in thought. Greg started to walk to the doors again and never looked back, afraid that his good fortune would fail him. He walked out of the red doors, and seemed to float without realizing it to the staircase upwards, to fresh air, to freedom. He was completely unaware of the people who stared with amazement at him, the man who got an audience with Santosa Perkasa. The group he spoke to earlier, including the person whose face was hidden by a large black hood, looked very hard at Greg, thinking of the lucky bastard who had probably gotten into Perkasa's group of most trusted spies, looking at the identifying smile plastered across his face.
Greg was oblivious to all that. Happily he jogged up the stairs, and out through the door, past the crowd that had gathered to go where he had just come. Greg walked leisurely back to the parking lot and sent a message to both Sara and Nick to meet him at his apartment.
"I can't believe it actually worked!" Nick said, his past apprehension gone as they whooped it up at Greg's apartment. "You actually managed to get in and speak with the most notorious man in Las Vegas, and give him faulty information about the transportation. Greg, you are awesome!"
Greg gave a huge grin. "I know, I can't believe it." However, he sobered a bit. "I just want this guy put away. Seeing him in person, I don't know, but I know why people are scared of him." He paused, waiting for Nick and Sara to pay full attention, and to gather his own thoughts. "He's not very intimidating physically, but he may even surpass Grissom in mental capacity. And his voice, it's like someone running over cats, and his stare…his stare. It's cold as ice. There is absolutely nothing of goodness in his eyes."
Nick nodded, and Sara just stared at nothing in particular, lost in thought. However, Greg smiled again. "That's all in the past though, because I think we got 'em. They don't know me, and I hid my hair and most of my face with my hat. I think we finally ended this, and made the place safe for Matthew and Gabriel until they are taken to safety."
"Right on!" Nick said, and both he and Greg took a swig of beer that they were drinking in celebration. Greg lowered his head, and caught sight of Sara, alone in the corner, her soda not touched.
"Sara?" Greg questioned with concern on his face now, not happiness. "What's up? Why aren't you celebrating?"
Sara shook her head. "I'm not…quite sure, actually." She gave an unsteady smile. "I don't feel like it's all over yet."
"Well, sure, overall, I doubt we'll catch Perkasa here, but Matthew and Gabriel will at least be safe for another while. If Perkasa sends his guys in tomorrow at three, all they'll get into is a nice little police parade that they're holding for the town. It's perfect; they won't know what hit them."
Sara smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe you're right."
Greg wrapped his arm about her shoulders. "Of course I am! Now let's celebrate!" The three of them clinked their bottles together, and drank in merriment, but Sara's instincts still told her that nothing had been resolved at all, and that things were going to get a whole lot more dangerous from here on out.
Okay, there it is! Hope everyone enjoyed...oh, and if you can take the time, and feel like it, PM me about what you feel about the writer's strike, and the fact that there is no new CSI left:( Oh, and review if it pleases you!
