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CHAPTER 9.
The midmorning sun slowly burns away the last of the desert night chill as it crawls across the cerulean sky-scape, which is only occasionally broken by a stray, fluffy cloud. Sofia stares in a bit of wonder; there is nothing special about this plot of land, nothing to suggest that 40 women had lost their lives here. There's nothing but the scars she carries inside to remind her that she came within a hair's width of becoming victim #41 of one of the most notorious criminals in history. There is no plaque or stone to commemorate his capture and the land itself is quite ordinary. The trees spread forth with their branches to the sky in a welcoming hug. The grass blankets the ground, crunching under her boots as she walks, surveying the members of her team as they put the finishing touches their side of the plan. Families with their children and dog still come here, taking pictures and hoping to see an animal or two.
No, there is not one physical thing here to remind Sofia of what occurred here – and yet she can't shake the feeling that someone is walking on her grave. Her nerves are on edge making her jump several times at some loud, sudden noise. She keeps flashing back to the last time she was on Boulder City's River Mountain hiking trail. She remembers the darkness and the full moon. She remembers being so hungry and thirsty that she could barely walk never-mind run. She remembers the cold and the pain – so much pain that it even hurts to even think about it. She remembers all of this and wonders, if she will ever be able to forget – will the nightmares ever end?
Sofia runs a hand over her face, trying in vain to rub the exhaustion and bad memories out of existence as she berates herself. There is no time for this, the officers here are looking to her for leadership and Catherine is counting on her to find her. The detective made a promise that nothing would happen to the strawberry blonde or her baby, and she will keep that promise come hell or high water.
All civilians within a 200-foot radius of where she is standing are being ordered off, anyone who resists or gives lip are being escorted bodily. It wasn't necessary to clear that much area, at least not if everything goes as planned, but both detectives felt, better safe than sorry. Police officers, 20 total, traipse about the wooded area, calling out to each as they carry out their instructions. A sense of controlled chaos surrounds Sofia, giving her the impression of standing in the eye of a hurricane. Minutes pass with the speed and consistency of maple syrup during December. Beads of sweat gathers at the crown of her head and the nape of her neck. Even with her hair pulled back into a tight, painful looking ponytail, there was no relief from the climbing temperature or her anxiety. ' What if this doesn't work?' she thinks. It's a thought that plagues her to point of distraction, making her want to scream at that doubting voice in the back of her mind to shut the hell up. Physically trying to shake the doubt from her mind, Sofia joins the rest of her team in setting up their end, which is looking more and more like D-day.
The silence in the truck is almost as oppressive as the growing heat outside. Detective Brass and his 'partner' Nick Stokes stare stonily at the one-story, lemon-yellow house 100 feet away. Despite not being a cop in any official capacity, the young CSI insisted, demanded and then begged to be allowed to accompany Jim on his stakeout. The captain finally complied, whatever threat the men of the department were under, must surely be over by now. A second unmarked car is parked on the other side of the house and just a short distance away is an ambulance with EMTs at the ready.
"Why can't we just bust in there and get Cath? She's been in there for hours, she could be hurt." There's anxiety and fear in Nick's voice that he doesn't bother hiding. Grissom and Warrick are still in comas and now Catherine is trapped somewhere in Tyler's home going through God-knows-what while they're sitting in an air-conditioned car twiddling their fingers.
Brass sighs with his own impatience and glances at his watch. He understands the younger man's sentiments. A part of him would like nothing more than to bust through the door like Clint Eastwood with guns a blazin', but they can't. The plan is dependent on everyone following their part to the letter. "Because we don't know where in the house she is," he finally answers, with a low, even tone that does well to hide his own fear. After all, one of them has to keep their cool. "Sofia said that he wanted her alive, at least until the baby is born. So we don't know if he's keeping her in the basement, like the others or somewhere else. She could for all we know be sitting on the couch right next to him, do you want to be the one who tells Rick that both his wife and baby were killed in the crossfire?"
Nick slams his fist against the armrest but doesn't offer any disagreement to Brass. Losing Catherine and the baby would destroy his best friend and tear a hole in the team that would never heal. So, as much as it pains him to admit it, Jim is right. He drops his argument and instead leans back in his seat, trying to force himself to relax. He has his ears alert and trained on the police radio that resides between the two of them. Every time a voice is heard, he jumps from his seat in attention, only to be disappointed that it's not Sofia giving her signal.
Jim continues staring through the window, as he too keeps an ear on the radio. A part of him envied Sofia, at least she has something to occupy her body and mind and is not sitting around waiting. The two of them do not have that luxury. Their minds are free to wonder down dark paths full of worst case scenarios. Though he doesn't show it, the detective is worried for both women. Catherine's high risk pregnancy coupled with the massive amount of stress she's under can't be doing her or the baby a damn bit of good. Then there is Sofia, she put on a brave front for him at the station, but she's young and inexperienced, so the cracks in her mask were visible. He says a silent prayer to the God and saints of his childhood to keep both of them safe and to bring Gil and Warrick back from their coma.
"Catherine's going to be okay, right?" Nick asks, sounding way younger than his 30 plus years.
"She's strong, Nick. Hell, she's probably sitting on the couch, watching TV and wondering what the hell took us so long," Brass responds with a forced laugh. He wants to believe this as does Nick, who adds his own forced laugh. Deep down though, in the pit of his stomach, the young Texan has a very bad feeling.
Standing straight and tall, Sofia gives the clearing one last sweep. Just a few minutes ago this area was a buzz with activity, now all is still. Not even the wind or the birds in their nests seem willing to intrude on this moment. Everyone is in place at both ends and it now up to her to put the plan in motion. Clearing her throat for what feels like the hundredth time, she raises her walkie-talkie and presses the button that will send her voice through every police scanner in range.
"Evan Tyler, this is Detective Sofia Curtis from the Las Vegas police department. I know you want revenge. I know you want me. I know you want to put a bullet through my skull and watch the light fades as I die. My eyes would look quite nice on your mantle, wouldn't they? Or would you keep them by your side? I think you would, maybe make a nice key-chain out of them. Well, I'm waiting for you, all alone in our special place. You remember that don't you? This is were you fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book. I was so hoping for a challenge when I caught you the first time. But I'm giving you a second chance – don't disappoint me – again." She releases the button and takes several deep breaths, trying in a futile attempt to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Just standing there is enough to make the bile rise in her throat and she wishes childishly, that Gil were there to tell her everything is going to be all right.
It will take a few minutes for Tyler to get ready and a few more minutes to drive to the hiking trail, barring any traffic, and then several more minutes to walk to the clearing. If he's not here in 30 minutes, she'll repeat her message, and she'll keep on repeating it until he finally shows up – no matter how long it takes.
It didn't take him 30 minutes, it didn't even take him five minutes to come flying out of the house in full hunting attire, complete with two side arms, and jump into his truck. Smoke rises and a loud screech from his tires can be heard by Brass and Nick, barely giving then time to duck low in the Charger before Tyler zooms by. Ten seconds, then 20 seconds slowly tick by before either man dare raise their heads. With the truck's engine receding out of hearing range and the coast clear, both men scramble from the Charger and sprint to the house.
With the door unlocked and partially open, both men are able to slip in with ease. Pausing in the living room, Brass is just about to give the order for them to split when he hears a low moan coming over an intercom speaker. Gasps of pain soon follow as the two men stare at each other in shock, they both recognize the sound of their colleague. It's a race to see which man will get to intercom first, Nick being closer, and younger he gets there a split second before Jim and presses the speak button.
"Catherine, is that you?"
"Nicky?...Nicky, is that you?" Catherine asks in a voice tinged with exhaustion.
"Yeah Cath. Jim's here too."
"Where's Tyler? Are you two okay? Where's Sofia? Why isn't she there? Is she okay?" she asks in panic, adrenaline giving her a second wind.
"We're fine Catherine," Brass chimes in. "Sofia and Tyler . . . they're not here."
"What?!"
"Calm down Cath," Brass says. "She's fine. We've set a trap for Tyler along the hiking trail near here. She has 20 of my best men backing her up."
"Okay." But there is little relief in her voice.
"Where are you Catherine?" Nick asks. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just tired and thirsty. The baby's fine too, thank God. I was trying to lure Tyler down by pretending to go into labor, so I could use the gun Sofia gave me. Looks like your plan trumped mine," she says with a dry laugh. Both men sigh in relief that their friend is okay. "I'm in the basement, go to the kitchen, past the table is a door leading downstairs. There's a small room, that's where I am."
Nick takes the lead, and the two men run down the stairs before she even finishes her sentence. Less then a minute passes before Catherine practically falls into Jim's embrace. Her hair is plastered to her head, and her face is sweaty and pale.
"Nick, go upstairs, get a glass of water and wet face cloths, NOW!"
"I'm fine,"she says. Her voice is slightly weak.
"No, you're not, come on, let's get you upstairs."
Brass half carries Catherine back upstairs and sits her on the sofa. Nick brings over a glass of water and a wash cloth. "Is she okay?" he asks Jim.
"We got here just in time. She's starting to show signs of heat exhaustion."
"Guys, I'm right here."
"Sorry," the two men chorus.
The two men take a seat on opposite sides of their friend and Brass takes his cell phone out to call the ambulance. "They'll be here in a few seconds. And I don't want any lip from you. You need to get checked out."
"Fine. Besides, I want to be with Warrick when he wakes up. But as soon as I go, I expect the both of you to go join Sofia. "
"Deal." Brass answers.
"You seem awfully worried about Sofia." Nick says, surprised to hear the worry in her voice.
"You know, just because we're both women doesn't mean we can't get along."
" I thought you didn't like her."
"We made peace."
Before she can elaborate, the sirens of the ambulance screech through the air and two EMTs rush in.
The grass crunches under Tyler's heavy, black boots. Only one of his guns is out and raised in defense. The air is warm and still, as the space between the two combatants quickly shrinks. He can see her, standing alone in the woods – his Sofia, his goddess, his prey! She is magnificent!' he thinks in excitement. If it were possible for a man like him to fall in love she would be the one. He smiles at her and to his delight, she smiles back. He can smell her confidence even from here.Her gun is upholstered and at her side, ready to be raised at a moments notice. Her posture is ramrod straight, but she is alert and focused on him and him alone.
At 15 feet he stops and stares.
"Hello Tyler." Her voice is smooth as ice as she aims her gun at a spot between his eyes. "I suggest you drop your weapon."
"Do you?"
"I do."
Tyler laughs for a moment, before fixing Sofia with a look of determination. "It's just the two of us, all alone. There's a 50/50 chance that one of us will not be walking of this trail alive. I personally, like those odds."
"Really? Fifty/fifty? I don't think so."
On cue 20 police officers seem to appear out of nowhere. Some popped out from behind trees, while the rest look as if they had grown from the earth itself. Camouflage tarps covered in leaves and small branches are thrown unleashing the traps full affect. All of them are armed and aiming their weapon at Tyler, who stands dumbfounded in the center. His mouth hangs open as his mind tries to process what is happening. His guns are quickly confiscated, and his arms are pulled back in order to be handcuffed.
"You bitch! You fucking bitch!" he roared in angerHe struggled to get at her, but it was no use, 4 officers were holding him back and not allowing him any closer to Sofia."You tricked me. I thought you were different, but you're like every other woman."
Sofia smiles. "I am like no woman you have ever met. That's why you came here – in broad day light – with nothing but a couple of measly side arms to protect you. You wanted me. You wanted to face me head on, because I am like no other prey you have ever hunted. Face it Tyler. I beat you – twice."
She reads him his Miranda rights and watches as he is carted off to the police station. Promising to meet her fellow police officers for drinks after shift, they follow behind, leaving Sofia alone. She needs a few moments to calm her nerves and allow her heart to go back to its resting rate. Leaning against a tree, she puts her gun away and takes out her walkie-talkie.
"Jim? We got him. He's in custody and on route to the station." She waits almost a full minute before trying again. "Jim? Are you there?"
"Sorry Sofia, but we got a situation over here." To Sofia's surprise Nick's voice is heard and there is panic and fear in it. In the background she can hear sirens screeching.
"It's Catherine . . . "
' Oh God no!'
". . . she's in a bad way. The baby . . . we thought it was just heat exhaustion. But as soon as she stepped foot into the ambulance . . . her stomach . . . cramps . . . blood . . . they're rushing her to the hospital . . . I . . . how can something so small have so much blood?" The young Texan is practically in tears and can barely talk. Which is just as well, since Sofia is no longer listening. The trunk is cool under palms and sun is warm on her back, but she can't feel anything. She wishes she shot that bastard right between the eyes when she had the chance. Putting her walkie-talkie away she pulls her keys out, and runs to her vehicle. Catherine is going to need all the support she can get from her family and friends and the young blonde is determined to stand by her newly found friend.
A/N: Epilogue's next!