Author's Note: Hello! Sorry for the delay… Just had my last exam paper over and done with today, feeling kinda bummed out about it... exams suck. But thanks for the reviews and PM. They made me feel so much better. Thank you all! Each and every one of you. You know who you are --smirk--
Reading back on the previous chapters, I realised I've made many grammar and spelling mistakes. They can be annoying. Hopefully, this chapter will have fewer errors.
Chapter 9
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"Is this a good time?"
"A good time for what?"
"A good time for you to tell me your story. Where did you learn to do that?"
Sara looked at Nick with her head tilted to her side. "What story? Do what?"
"You know… the one where you became all Dr. Phil on me." She frowned, not understanding a word he's saying. "Dr Phil… an American psychologist? Appeared on Oprah…"
"You watch Oprah?"
"What?! No— I'm just saying… Hey! Don't you look at me that way." Nick turned beet red in the face, trying to justify himself with his Texas accent. "You seriously need to watch more TV..."
Sara laughed. She hadn't laughed this hard in a long time. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "Come on... men watch Oprah too, Don't be ashamed of that." She said as she clenched her side.
"If I wasn't so curious, I would have left by now." Nick replied, recovering from his inward embarrassment. "I think me making you laugh is worthy enough to be paid with the story?"
Wiping her last tear with her finger, Sara looked towards Nick.
"Okay, I'll tell you... "
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"I got a package for the Las Vegas Crime lab. Hello?… Anybody?…"
The deliveryman looked towards the receptionist desk. The chair was empty and there were no other signs of life wandering the corridors. "Someone has to sign for this! I don't have all day! Come on!"
"I'll sign for that." Sofia came up to him from the break room. "Who's it for?"
"Don't know. It's not my job to know. I just deliver. Sign here… Thank you." The deliveryman turned and headed towards the lift.
Sofia looked towards the package. Its presentable brown wrapping wrote:
Crime Lab
3657 Westfall Ave
Las Vegas, NV 89109
There was no return address. The package had a red "approved" stamp on it. She turned and ran towards the break room…
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"Did I tell you that I was once afraid of the dark?" Sara turned to face Nick as she began her story. "When I was a kid, I was terrified of it."
He dragged a chair across the floor, "You? … I would never have guessed." He took a seat closest to her.
"Yeah... My parents--- they used to have these fights. Mmhmm… the kinds that go beyond arguments. The house was a battlefield, with mum hurling a missile here, dad throwing a bomb there… you get what I mean. They take it out on me sometimes--" She thought for a moment, "I had this closet in my room. Cosy, small, just nice for me. It was the closest thing I had to a haven. During the day, the light came through the door... almost heavenly, but by night… lets just say that it's a creepy, dark closet." Sara laughed, trying to get rid of the discomforting attention she's getting.
"Let me guess… these fights would occur mostly at night."
"Pretty much…"
"Is that how you got over it? Exposing yourself to your fears?"
Sara placed her hand on her chin, thinking about it before speaking out, "What I did to you… I did the exact same thing when I was in the closet. It helped me a little." She smiled, "Sometimes… problems are like math equations. Between the dark and my parents, which one hurts more?
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"Which one hurts more Nick?" He asked himself as he sat cross-legged, his hands on his lap, aware that the ventilation shaft will close in about 11 minutes.
"Which one hurts more? Panic attack or the possibility of losing a friend?"
The team was getting worried. The rejected killer had become bolder, sending them little messages in little packages. He was somewhere in city of Las Vegas, but they had no way of finding him. Approved?… Delivery services do not stamp "approved" on their packages. In red? New policy?
"Let me do this." Grissom said as he placed the package on the table. It was small, not big enough to contain any body parts of any kind, maybe just nice for a finger or two. He took out a knife, slicing the edges open as the other's watched him. He looked into the package before emptying its contents on the table. The cotton wool that coated its walls slipped out, along with 2 neatly folded pieces of paper. One was torn and abused, the other was laminated and clean.
Greg took out the crumbled, poor excuse for a paper:
3 kidnapped. One blind, one deaf, one lost. Which one are you?
"He's talking about kidnapped victims?" Greg asked. "Which one are we? What does he mean by that?"
"That's not all," Catherine said, referring to the paper in her hands. "He's advertising." She held the paper up to show the others what it said:
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Are you tired of sitting around, not knowing what to do? Tired of waiting several days for a break in the case? Tired of being the terrible CSIs that you are? Tired of feeling responsible for the disappearance of a friend named of Sara Sidle? Tired of the uncertainty when she'll be back? Tired of waiting for the news of her rescue or death?
Your friendly murder has solved all these problems for you. Soon you'll be able to experience a lifetime of sorrows and regret, at no extra cost. Priceless!
At last, you'll be able to see your friend again, in the comfort of your own lab, in less time and for less money, charged by any criminal suspects you'll ever find.
-- Be The Best FRIEND You Can Be with the Rejected Killing Introductory Video --
Yes, I know that what I am about to reveal to you can be almost impossible to believe. But it's 100 percent true. I'll show you the fastest and easiest way to feel regret and disappointment like you've never felt before…
But before I release this information, I just want to let you know that I've watched you guys continue to reopen the case unnecessarily, trying to look for something amiss. Most were hoping to find a way to get rid of the nightmare and guilt on their backs. Others were just trying to move on. Today, instead of watching people spend time needlessly on a dead end, I break into a great big SMILE as I imagined my customers' petrified faces and eyes staring at this letter.
I want you to feel the same "excitement" of watching someone suffer and die, while saving "time" in the process…
I can easily sell this information for over $1million in ransom money. But, thanks to the reduced cost involved with sending this package and my "sincere" wish to HELP as many of you as possible – I have decided to offer you immediate access to the video for the price of
Absolutely nothing!
And the best part is, you can have it within minutes from now because the video is available for instant download!
Please keep in mind that this is a "limited time special." Your friend might not live that long, so please act now to take advantage of this rare opportunity.
Type in this IP address to get your video now!
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The team hurried towards a computer and typed in the string of numbers.
Nick took out his radio and waved it towards Warrick, pondering if he should bring it along. "We would not be able to hear you through the ventilation shaft. There'll be a lot of electrical interference, normal transmission would probably be impossible. You should be able to contact us if you get to that room. Better bring it with you." Nick gave him a nod and hooked his radio onto his vest.
"I have a bad feeling about this." Warrick said as Nick gathered his things. "It's great that you've decided to go through with it. But it's still dangerous." Nick walked across the living room, feeling the weight of his vest on his shoulders. He could only bring a few things, or the ventilation shaft would not be able to hold his weight. He began loading up his pockets with some light sticks, a flashlight and some medical supplies. He didn't carry any weapons, as they would be too heavy. There's probably no one else in the vault anyways. He didn't know what to expect. He wasn't even sure of what he was doing. Half of him believed that he was ending the years' guilt complex and the other half of him believed that he had finally lost it. Nick wondered if it was really Sara in that vault, or just someone (or something) else. They had about 8 minutes left and Nick could feel the tension throughout his body.
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"I never knew you had a family like that. No wonder you hardly talk about them." Nick finally spoke after a long period of silence. Sara had told him some details of her childhood.
"Only you, Grissom and my PEAP counsellor know about this. So I would appreciate it if you keep this between us." Sara was picking on a hangnail, feeling vulnerably exposed and unprotected. She never really liked talking about things like these.
"So…Cisco huh?" Sara grinned, "… your safety word?"
"Ha… oh yah. That's what I called my dad. He's my own personal hero. He calls me "Pancho" in return. I was a big fan of The Cisco Kid when I was younger…" He smiled at the thought. "What about you? What was your safety word?"
Sara thought of her younger days and moments in the closet. There was really no time for words, only tears. "I never had one. Never really thought of one and didn't think I needed one." She managed to say without losing her composure.
Nick leaned back against his chair and looked at her for a second. "You know what? — Why don't you use "Pancho". Seen the comic? He's a good-looking cowboy." He teased, elevating his voice just a little. "It's the least I could do after what you did for me."
Sara was getting ready to stand up. "Nah… I can't do that. That's something between you and your dad. I'm not going to take that away from you." She said as she prepared to leave the room to get back to one of her cases.
"Hey… it's MY nickname." He paused, thinking of what to say. "Tell you what, if you're in danger, afraid or anything at all… shout "Pancho" three times and wherever I am… I'll come running to save you. It'll be like — a hero's beacon. You know those spotlight things..." He tried to charade the action of the spotlight reflecting against the wall.
Sara stood beside the doorframe, looking at Nick thoughtfully, "Pancho, Pancho, Pancho… and you'll come running?"
"And I'll come running to save you." He gave her a closed lip smile and place his hand on his heart, "I promise..."
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I made a promise…Nick thought. "I gotta do something. I can't just sit here and wait for someone else to do the job. The guilt would kill me. It would kill all of us… I got to try." He said as he looked over Warrick's shoulder, "Brass, what's the ETA on that backup?"
Brass picked up his radio to make a call. The machine emitted static before saying "ETA approximately 45 minutes. All units backed up… emergency regarding…" The radio kept stuttering police jargon as the team realized that they'll be on their own for a long while.
"45 minutes is a long time…" Brass said sadly.
Warrick looked uncertain, but he knew Brass was right. He looked at his watch, 5 minutes left… "Let's look at the monitor again. Maybe we can get a clue of what we're up against..."
"I don't see anything." Greg looked at the screen, squinting his eyes. "Did we type it wrong?"
Catherine checked and rechecked the IP address as Sofia and Grissom sat near the computer, thinking hard and feeling discouraged.
"Do you think… he's getting desperate?" Sofia asked as if talking to the screen instead of the team. Grissom looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "We got an anonymous tip about a house in the desert. Warrick told us about the note that was placed behind the picture in that house… someone sent an "advertisement" to the lab—within less than 24 hours. Its like… he wants us to find Sara, to watch her… to save her or something…" She sighed. "He kept saying things like..."she might die" or "she might not live that long"... "if she's still alive", "if she not already dead". What does he want? What does he Really want?"
Grissom caught on, "Maybe he wants us to hurry. I don't think he wants Sara to die… maybe he just wants us to think that. Was the deliveryman an accomplice?"
"I thought so. I've just sent someone to check that out. We'll know more later." She peeked over Catherine's shoulder to look at the "advertisement". "I just want to let you know that I've watched you guys continue to reopen the case…" She read the line aloud. "He's been watching us? Was he in the lab?"
Grissom was about to reply as Greg shouted in triumph, "Got it!" He shook his fist in achievement. "The reason why we couldn't see anything is because wherever we're getting the video feed from, it's too dark. By pressing "T", we'll turn on the camera's thermal vision and…." He pushed the button. "There you go…"
The team looked towards the silent screen. What they assume was the same video that Nick, Warrick and Brass saw was now beaming on the screen in front of them. The image was mostly blue, with some colours occasionally coming and going. The camera was most likely positioned at the top corner, near the ceiling, revealing minor details of what seems to be a room. Small red dots were scurrying from left to right, up and down, not really going anywhere.
"Rats?" Catherine asked.
"Most likely." Grissom replied, more focus on a pink apparition at the far right of the screen. "What is that?"
The phone rang, causing the team to jump out of their skin. Catherine took a deep breathe before answering, "Willows…"
"Cath? It's Warrick… Tell Grissom we lost the video. We've lost the feed. The screen's blank. We can't see anything in that room. As of now, we're blind."
Catherine repeated what Warrick said to the others. "I think we intercepted your video," She told him. "We're looking at it as we speak."
"Blind?" Greg stood where he was, still holding on to the crumbled paper. He took another look:
3 kidnapped. One blind, one deaf, one lost. Which one are you?
"If they're blind…" Greg picked up the speakers connected to the computer towards his ears. "That mean's we're deaf. There's no sound coming from the speaker."
"And if we're deaf," Sofia asked, "Who's lost?"
The team stared at each other. Having a thought, Grissom suddenly stood up from his chair. "Catherine! Tell Warrick not to let Nick into the ventilation shaft yet. We need to think this through! We're missing something."
Catherine urgently repeated the orders into the phone. She heard the sound of pounding footsteps in the background, followed by Warrick's voice yelling out to Nick. Some shuffling was heard before a loud slam of metal on metal was made.
And then, there was nothing but silence…
"Warrick?" Catherine waited for a response. "Warrick? You there? What's happened?" She said with urgency in her voice. "Rick?"
"He's in…" Warrick's monotone voice finally spoke. "I could'nt stop him. There was nothing I could do."
"Nick's on his own for now."
TBC
I decided to use this chapter to answer a few things:
Why did Sara shout "Pancho" 3times in chapter 6, where did she get the idea of helping Nick overcome his phobia in chapter 8, why were 3 innocent people kidnapped (chapter 6), why was the killer leaving the team clues after so long, what were the rest of the team doing at that time etc.
In the next chapter, I'm thinking of focusing on only Nick and Sara (if she's still alive, I'm still thinking about it. --nervous grin--). Thank you all for your patience. I would have gotten to her earlier, but I didn't want the CSIs to seem like psychics or magicians who magically knew where she was.
Let me know what you think. Reviews make my day. --smiles--
