Chapter 9
The sun had just about risen when Nick rounded a sharp bend on the mountainous road and a tall, stone building came into view. Realising that this was the factory, Nick braked abruptly and quickly threw the car in reverse.
If they're in there, no sense letting them know I'm here, he thought, parking the Denali out of sight. He reached for the door handle then hesitated; his radio lay on the passenger seat, staring up at him accusingly. Am I doing the right thing? he wondered, as Grissom's urgent warning rang in his ears. What if I really am walking into danger?
Unbidden, an image of a dark, suffocating coffin clawed its way to the surface of his mind and Nick shuddered. He couldn't be confined like that again…helpless. His fingers withdrew from the door handle as he continued to stare at the radio. He could just contact the other units and listen to them telling him to wait for backup, thereby absolving him of the responsibility of going in.
Then another image assaulted his mind; a man strapped to an examination table, screaming and begging for his life while he was dissected alive. Another of Abrahms' tapes telling the horrifying tale of his nameless victims.
But this wasn't just another nameless victim. This was a friend, someone he cared about. Nick swallowed his fear. Not doing anything would leave him every bit as helpless as he had been in that coffin. All he had been able to do then was wait for death or wait to be rescued.
Those might have been Greg's options right now, but they weren't Nick's. Nick was in control, he wasn't helpless, he had a choice this time and he was going to choose action over waiting.
Decisively, Nick picked up his radio. "All units, this is CSI Stokes…I've arrived at the Searchlight factory. No signs of movement but I'm going to check it out." His message sent, Nick switched off his radio to prevent any messages of warnings reaching his ear and weakening his resolve.
Quickly he made his way down the road towards the factory, cursing the morning sun for leaving him so exposed. Reaching the building, Nick was careful to stay pressed against the wall and out of sight of any windows while he looked for a door. He came across an emergency exit but it was chained shut. The chains looked new and strong.
Swearing silently to himself, Nick continued to look. The large main entrance was the next door, but one look at it and Nick decided against opening it. The door was large and slightly rusted, and he knew there was a possibility it would make noise if opened…and the last thing Nick wanted to do was announce his arrival to anyone who might have been in the factory.
Reaching the far side of the building, he continued moving silently along by the wall. He was just getting frustrated when he spied a small, open window. Cautiously, Nick peered through the glass.
Inside was a deserted office. The door was shut, giving him the opportunity of getting in unseen. Quietly, Nick clambered through the small window; cursing and gritting his teeth when his broad frame got stuck.
Shit! Fuck! Move! he roared at himself, as he tried to wriggle through the window. Red-faced and straining, Nick gave one mighty heave and pulled himself gracelessly into the room, landing with a bump on the floor.
Grimly pleased with himself, he unholstered his gun and moved silently towards the door. Silently, he turned the knob, heaving a breath of relief when it opened. Peering through a crack in the door, he could see the main hall of the factory. Huge, silent machines stood ominously in the massive room and sunlight streamed through the high windows, hitting the imposing structures and creating large pockets of shadow.
The atmosphere was quiet and uneasy, but Nick welcomed it. The large shadows created by the machines offered Nick plenty of hiding places to get through the room unseen. Quietly he eased out of the office and moved through the hall, careful to keep his eyes open for any signs of movement or other rooms. After several seconds, he spotted a door at the far end of the hall. It looked suspiciously like an emergency exit door, and Nick's mind flashed back to the door chained from the outside. Was it an emergency stairwell?
The CSI decided a stairwell would leave him too exposed and cast his gaze around the room again. His eyes alighted on a door almost hidden behind one of the machines just ten feet to his right. Swiftly, Nick moved over to it and peered through one of the glass panels into a dark hallway.
Perfect! he thought and opened the door. About to slide into the dark corridor, Nick froze when he heard a panicked scream. His head shot around wildly in the direction of the cry.
What the fuck was that?
Another blood curling scream followed, and Nick stood with beating heart in the silent room as he tried to determine where it had come from. His stomach lurched when he realised the cries were echoing through the emergency exit on the far side of the room.
Of course! The storage areas in the basement!
Moving as quickly as he could without making any noise, Nick crossed the room to the emergency exit. Carefully, he opened the exit door and saw that his guess had been right; there were stairs! Alert and watchful, his gun at the ready, Nick edged into the stairwell.
xxx
Harsh, painful reality jerked Greg out of welcome nothingness. Agony, agony like nothing on earth, was tearing through his body, forcing him to acknowledge it. The pain was beyond endurance. Greg couldn't help it, despite his battered, exhausted state, a loud scream was wrenched from his lungs.
Opening his eyes, he could see Dr. King and Marcus moving frantically around him, but their outlines were blurred and undefined. Trying to focus, he could see they were working on his wrists, yanking and pulling them as though they were putty. He screamed again as vicious, violent pain assaulted him once more.
"BE QUIET YOU STUPID BOY!" the doctor yelled at him and Greg froze. It was the first time the doctor had spoken to him in anything other then calm, unflustered tones, and Greg realised the doctor was panicking.
"Marcus, you fool! You idiot!" the doctor screeched suddenly, dropping Greg's right wrist and snatching up his left wrist. Greg bit his lip to suppress the cry of pain, but a frightened whimper still trickled out. "Look at his wrist! Snapped clean through! How am I supposed to fix this without x-rays?" The giant, a furious expression on his face, never moved, and Greg wondered why he didn't attack the doctor.
"And even if I could," the doctor was still ranting, "that last break probably severed an artery! He's no good to me now! My perfect specimen, ruined!"
Greg looked down at his wrists and felt his blood turn to ice. His wrists were swollen, bruised and distorted. Numb shock momentarily drove away the pain as the CSI stared at his disfigured wrists.
His horrified gaze returned to the doctor and Marcus who were both staring at him now, a look akin to that of a predator studying its meal. Greg saw the look of silent murder in their eyes.
I'm going to die here, I really am, he realised, a painful lump forming in his throat. He had hoped for death many times over the last few days when things had become too much, but now that it came to it, he didn't want to die. Not here…not alone…not like this. Greg tried to swallow the lump in his throat and tears pricked his eyes. Would it really matter now if Marcus saw him cry?
Suddenly, the doctor walked over to the counter. Greg could hear him rattling around opening presses and banging glass beakers. After several minutes, he appeared at Greg's side, a very large needle in his hand. "Arms and hands are useless," he muttered, shooting a dark look at Marcus. Yanking the collar of the hospital scrubs down, he stuck the needle in Greg's throat and emptied its contents.
"I am going to organise my equipment and scrub up," the doctor addressed Marcus coldly. "Get him prepped, but this time ensure that you do nothing that will jeopardise this part of my experiment!" Spinning around, Dr. King stormed out of the room.
At once, Marcus turned and looked at Greg. Pure, unadulterated evil lit up his face and he moved towards him.
"N…n…" Greg tried to choke out, but his voice had finally deserted him.
His hands utterly useless, and his body too battered to fight; he just lay there as the giant stared down at him, smiling at his misery.
Marcus lived his whole life for torture; he thrived on causing torment and pain. It didn't really matter who the victim was, Marcus enjoyed causing pain regardless, but there were some victims whom he relished tormenting more then others. The young man on the table in front of him was one of them.
It was that innocent quality, a slightly naïve air, - something Marcus had never had and never understood - which made him want to destroy them.
Terrified brown eyes stared back at him, and the monster laughed a silent laugh. The most innocent ones never understood why it was happening to them. Their fear and confusion was his aphrodisiac. It excited him to see how far he could go before destroying them utterly, and it fascinated him to see how different each victims' breaking points were. Marcus smiled cruelly. He knew exactly what would break the young man in front of him and reached down.
As soon as Greg felt the giant start to grope him, he shut his eyes and turned his head away. He would die shortly, be murdered by the very people he should have been hunting down, and the last few minutes of his life were going to be spent in pain and humiliation. The young CSI tried desperately to keep it together, but it was useless. Tears streaked down his cheeks and ragged sobs shook his chest.
I don't deserve this death! he thought, as he broke down completely. I'm a good person!
The giant responded to his distress by groping harder and Greg squeezed his eyes tighter. The giant then leered and slipped his hands into the hospital scrubs. Greg could feel his fingers crawling downwards and shuddered, bile threatening to explode in his throat. But before Marcus could go further, an angry scream filled the room.
"TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HIM!!!"
Greg opened his eyes in shock.
He knew that voice! Unable to see what was happening through his blurred vision, Greg squinted desperately and what looked like a wild-eyed and furious Nick Stokes came into view. He was standing in the doorway with a gun pointing directly at Marcus. The giant had withdrawn his hands and was staring, dumbfounded, at the raging CSI.
His vision blurred again and, try as he might, Greg couldn't make himself focus. He thought the drugs the doctor had given him were making him hallucinate. Nick wasn't here, no one was coming to save him. He was supposed to die, right?
xxx
Nick listened carefully, but the screaming had stopped. The stairwell led up as well as down, and he wasn't entirely sure which way to go. His gut was telling him to go with his original instincts and check the basement. Hesitant, Nick put his back to the wall and stepped cautiously onto the first step, being carefully to keep his eye on the upper as well as the lower stairwell.
He became aware of excited yelling and stopped to listen. It was an angry yell, not like the terrified screams he had heard minutes before.
Downstairs, definitely downstairs! he decided, and continued to edge downwards. Then the yelling stopped and Nick froze, listening carefully. Footsteps were stomping down the hall, and Nick pointed his gun at the door, afraid that someone might come through it and discover him. However, the footsteps faded, heading in the other direction. Nick relaxed a little, but he was still careful to keep his guard up.
He reached the bottom of the stairwell and carefully eased open the door below. It led into a long white corridor that reminded Nick of a hospital. Hearing the screams had made him think he was in the right place; seeing this had confirmed it.
Well, I found the bastard's lab! Now, I just have to find Greg…
Every nerve in his body straining and adrenaline pumping through him, the CSI moved slowly down the hall. He pushed open the first door on the right with his shoulder, keeping his gun at the ready. The room was dark and empty. Another door stood across from that, and he had only just started to push it open when the sound of someone crying broke the silence.
Nick followed the sound of the desperate sobbing to a set of large swinging doors halfway down the hall. There were two small glass panels on the doors and Nick shot a quick glance into the room before ducking back. There was definitely someone in that room.
He chanced a longer look the second time and got the shock of his life. Greg was lying on a table in the middle of the room. His face was turned towards the door and his eyes were squeezed shut. Tears were rolling down his face and his lips were quivering. The huge man loomed over him, his back to the door.
Red, poker-hot anger surged through Nick as he realised exactly what the big man was doing. Without even thinking, he burst into the room screaming; "TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HIM!!!"
Coming to a halt just inside the door, Nick stared at the scene in front of him. Two pairs of eyes stared back at him; one furiously astonished, the other in terrified shock.
"Move back against the wall! NOW!" Nick barked at the giant, who obeyed, his eyes on the gun.
"Face the wall and keep your hands where I can see them!" Nick ordered, not taking his eyes of the giant, but longing to look at Greg and see if he was okay.
The giant did as he was told and Nick kept his gun pointed at him. "Greg, are you okay?" he asked in a low voice.
There was no answer. "Greg?" Nick repeated, his fear growing.
After several seconds, his fear got the better of him and he couldn't help it; he looked down at Greg. The younger CSI was watching him with out-of-focus eyes, and Nick realised that he didn't know he was there.
But that was Nick's mistake, he looked for too long. Out of nowhere, a foot came flying, knocking the gun from his hands. Nick heard it scrape across the tiled floor as he turned to face the angry giant.
Jesus Christ! This guy is huge! thought Nick, ducking a vicious punch. He darted to one side as the giant lunged at him, and threw a hard punch of his own at the big man's head.
It connected with its mark. Growling in anger, Marcus turned on Nick and threw a quick upper cut, whacking his chin and making the CSI see stars. While Nick was stunned, Marcus picked him up and threw him bodily across the room, sending him crashing into one of the trolleys. Dazed with pain, Nick shook his head and saw the giant running at him. Quickly, he kicked the trolley at Marcus, sending it flying into him. The giant stumbled but didn't go down. Nostrils flaring and still grunting, he ran at Nick like a charging bull. Quick as a flash, Nick picked up a large glass beaker from the floor and flung it straight at the giant's face. It smashed on impact and Marcus stopped charging, his mouth open in a silent howl of pain.
THE GUN! Nick's mind yelled at him. Where's the gun? Quickly, the CSI scanned the floor and spotted the gun just in the corner. He dove for the gun just as Marcus charged again and his fingers closed around it. Twisting from where he lay on the floor, Nick fired.
Marcus staggered back, clasping his shoulder. Nick could see blood spreading over his shirt as the giant looked at him in shock. The shock only lasted a second before the cold rage that Greg had experienced when he spat at Marcus appeared. The giant's face twisted with rage, making him appear inhuman and he charged again.
This time, Nick took aim and shot the big man in the leg. Once more the giant staggered back but didn't go down. Instead, he charged again and Nick fired again.
The bullet connected with his stomach and Marcus stumbled backwards, gasping and panting. Nick, still lying on the floor, kept his gun trained on the big man. That'll stop him! Nick reassured himself.
But Marcus stood up straight and stared down at Nick, smiling his awful smile. What the fuck? thought Nick, as the giant started to walk towards him. Nick fired again - another shot in the shoulder - but Marcus was like a zombie from some horror movie and continued walking like he didn't even feel it.
"Why won't you die, you bastard!" Nick yelled, firing several shots as fear got the better of him. His last shot hit the giant in the throat and Marcus stopped moving as blood spurted out. Clamping his hand to his throat, the giant fell to his knees. His expression as he looked at Nick was one of mingled shock and anger.
Shakily, Nick clambered to his feet while the giant gasped and choked, before slumping forward onto the floor. Nick kept his gun trained on him for several minutes until the dark pool of blood spreading out beneath him convinced him that Marcus really was dead.
"Who are you?" a cold voice demanded, and Nick spun around to see an elderly man in hospital scrubs standing beside Greg, a gun pressed tightly to his head.
Nick froze instantly. "Drop the gun!" the old man commanded.
Nick put his gun carefully on the floor, not taking his eyes from Greg or the old man. Greg, he noticed fearfully, had lost consciousness.
"I asked you a question," said the old man, studying Nick. "Who are you? What gives you the right to come in here to my lab and slaughter my employee?!"
"What gives me the right?!" Nick spat incredulously, and gestured at Greg. "He does!"
"My experiments are none of your concern," the old man told him coldly. "This is my property and you have no right to be here!"
Nick's eyes popped in his head, and he stared stunned at the old man. "Your experiments?! Your…property?!"
The old man's eyes narrowed dangerously at Nick. "You know, Marcus only damaged the test subject, made him unsuitable for most of the remaining tests, but you've just ruined the entire experiment!" He pointed the gun at Nick now. "Maybe I should just shoot you instead?"
Nick just glared at the doctor with disgust. "You really are completely mad, aren't you? You have no clue just how depraved every one of your sick little experiments were, do you? You and John Abrahms!"
The doctor's hand shook a little. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice nervous. "How do you know about John?"
Nick remained silent. Several minutes passed, and suddenly the doctor smiled. "Aha, you're one of them!" - he gestured at Greg - "A CSI! I saw you at the crime scene…you were the one who got all panicked when you couldn't find him!"
"You were watching us?"
"Of course," the doctor smiled. "I had left something of importance in the library and returned for it, only you were already there. I was worried until I saw it would be Mr. Sanders processing the library."
"Why?" asked Nick tightly, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he glanced at Greg's pale, unconscious face.
"Because he's so young! The perfect physical specimen for my tests; but naïve enough and untrained enough for Marcus to overpower him!"
Nick felt sick. "What did you do to him?"
The doctor smirked. "My experiments are classified."
Nick exploded. "I don't give a shit about your fucking experiments! What did you DO to him?!"
The doctor smiled coldly. "It no longer matters because I could not complete my tests. I was getting ready to perform an autopsy when you came bursting in here."
"Autopsy?" Nick choked out.
"Yes. It's incredible what you can discover if you dissect a person before they die. It's how Mr Sanders here will die."
"Over my dead body!" Nick growled furiously.
"That can be arranged," said the doctor, and he began to pull the trigger.
"LAS VEGAS POLICE! FREEZE!" a voice roared. Startled, the doctor took his eye off Nick just as he pulled the trigger. Nick dove for the floor and heard another shot ring out.
The doctor dropped to the ground, howling in pain. "You shot me!" he screamed, clutching his shoulder, while two uniformed officers entered the room. One quickly kicked the doctor's gun away from him.
"You okay, Nick?" the older one asked as Nick got shakily to his feet. The younger one cuffed the doctor.
"Yeah, thanks, Boone," Nick answered. Then he remembered Greg.
"Greg!" he cried and dashed over to the table. The young CSI was deathly white. Fearfully, Nick reached out a hand to check for a pulse and paused in shocked horror when he saw the disfigured wrists. "Jesus Christ!" he managed, sickened.
"Is he okay?" asked Boone.
His hand shaking, Nick placed two fingers on Greg's throat. Relief washed over him when he felt a pulse, but it was worryingly faint.
"Call the paramedics, quickly!" he ordered.
"It's already been done," said the younger officer. "We radioed the hospital in Searchlight once we heard the gunshots. They'll be here in less than ten minutes."
Nick nodded, his jaw clenched painfully. It was then he realised how cold Greg felt. "Dammit!" he hissed, shrugging off his jacket and covering him with it. "Boone, have you got any blankets in your car?"
"In the trunk," replied the older officer. "Laney, can you get the blankets and radio the other units? Let them know we've found Greg and apprehended the suspect." He glared down at the doctor, still squirming in pain on the floor. The doctor stared balefully back.
The young officer nodded, his face a little green as he glanced at Greg. Then he dashed out of the room.
Several long minutes passed while Nick waited for the officer to return. The only sound in the silent room was Greg's laboured breathing. Nick felt a cold shiver run through him with every ragged gasp. "Just hang on, Greggo," he said gently. "You're safe now, we found you and the EMT's are on their way."
There was no response. Nick glanced at his watch. Where the hell are those paramedics? he thought urgently, glancing back at Greg's face. It was then he noticed the bruises around his neck and the bloody welt on his head. Cold fury washed over him and he shot a vicious glance at the doctor. Fucking bastard!
The young officer reappeared carrying the blankets. Nick grabbed them at once and began to cover Greg with them.
"The other unit has arrived," the young officer told them breathlessly. "They're securing the perimeter. And Captain Brass is almost here."
"Good," Boone nodded. "As soon as they get here, we can finish securing the building."
"You can finish securing the building," Nick told him. "I can watch the doctor."
Boone grinned, but there wasn't a trace of humour to be found in the grin. "No offence, Nick, but I was ordered not to let you out of my sight once we found you."
"Ordered? By whom?" Nick demanded.
"Me," said Grissom's voice, and Nick turned to see his supervisor hurrying through the door, Brass and Sara right behind him.
"How's Greg?" asked Sara anxiously.
"Not good," Nick responded. "Where are those paramedics?"
"They'll be here any minute," Brass told him. "Boone, Laney," he addressed the two officers, "finish clearing the building."
"Yes, sir!" they chorused and left the room.
Brass turned his attention to the doctor on the floor. Reaching down, he hauled him to his feet. "William Prescott, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Greg Sanders, and the suspected murder of John Abrahms."
"I've been shot, I need the hospital," the doctor responded coldly.
"So I see," said Brass grimly. "Tell you what, how 'bout I drive you myself? That way I can make sure you don't die and I get to see you go to jail for every scumbag thing you've done over the years."
Brass was leading him out of the room just as the paramedics rushed in. They wasted no time in assessing Greg and moving him swiftly onto the gurney.
"Will he be alright?" Nick asked anxiously.
"I really don't know," one of them answered honestly, as they began to wheel the gurney out.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Nick demanded, following them.
"I mean we don't know!" the paramedic snapped back. "Those wrists are bad, there's a possibility of internal bleeding. Now, can you move? We need to get him to the hospital."
Nick swallowed as the cold fear returned. What if he wasn't on time after all?
"I'm coming with you," he told them tiredly.
A/N: Okay, that chapter was SHAMELESSLY Nick to the rescue but I couldn't help it...I think he makes a much better hero than victim!!! Hope you all enjoyed it, there's only one more chapter left! And I'll try to get it up quicker if you review (hint, hint!) ;-)
Massive 'thank yous' to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (and for your responses on the rating) it is very much appreciated (even inspired me to work on another CSI fic, but that's a while off being completed...it's so dark it's scaring me!!!)
