Eric Delko sat in his Hummer and watched the harbor. Ships of all kinds came and went. He watched as trawlers, new and old, came in and offloaded their catch. Varieties of fish lay on ice, hawked by merchants to the people meandering down the pier. THe Bayside Marketplace was a popular shopping place for sushi chefs, high end private cooks, and anyone who wanted fresh seafood. His stomach rumbled as the savory smell of cooked food wafted over from the Bubba Gump restaurant that overlooked the harbor. Delko put it out of his mind though, focused on a trawler that had just entered the harbor. It still wasn't the Byte Me, but these ships came and went quick enough that he had to keep a constant eye out. Some ships would just offload their catch, then head to another marina or harbor to dock for the day. Their catch would be taken into a covered area and sold. The ships that stayed though put their catch on display in front of their boat for the crowd meandering down the pier itself.
He started when there was a sudden knock on the window of the Hummer. An absolutely beautiful woman was standing there, platinum blonde hair flowing down her back. Eric found he had trouble meeting her eyes, he kept looking at the convertible behind her that contained two similarly unbelievable looking women. The blonde gestured for him to roll down the window. He checked the harbor, it was clear.
"Hi, I've got a little bet with my friends going." She bubbled when the window was open. Eric cracked a little smile at her, trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of the ample cleavage she was practically shoving down his throat. What would possess someone to wear a top that was barely there? "We're doing a scavenger hunt for Melinda's birthday, and it's worth an extra fifty points if we get a picture with a cute guy."
Eric sucked in a breath. It certainly was enticing, but when he looked back over to the harbor he knew what he had to do. "Listen, I'd love to but I'm on duty." He opened the door, sending the blonde back. Her stiletto heels clacked lightly on the pavement.
"But we want a picture." The blonde complained as he walked away. "It's not like you were that hot anyway!" He heard the door of the convertible slam and the tires squeal as they drove away. He stood by a concrete bench overlooking the harbor and focused on the ship coming in. It was a rough looking vessel, paint peeling and rust showing through. Her booms, swung back over the stern, looked as if they had been dented by something. The nets that hung from them were ratty, but serviceable. It looked just like any trawler that went out empty and came back filled with shrimp, but he could see the words Byte Me stenciled on her bow. He pulled out his phone and selected Horatio from his contact list. It rang twice before he answered.
"H, she just came in." He told him.
"I'll be there in ten Eric. Don't draw any attention, just make sure he doesn't leave." Horatio said. "Remember Eric, he's violent. We don't want any civilian casualties." He hung up, leaving Delko staring at the harbor. Byte Me was just tying up to her slip, her deck hatch open to unload her catch. He lifted the small pair of binoculars he had been using in the Hummer to his eyes. He could see the captain come out from the wheelhouse, a short stocky man that gestured with a stubby cigar as he ordered the crew around. The crew themselves were a rather motley connection, dressed in grubby jeans, T-shirts, and a few in wife-beaters. Horatio had told him to look for a shaved head and a tribal tattoo on an arm.
He shifted the view from crewman to crewman. He finally spotted the tattoo on a man adjusting the line from the dock. He didn't look any different than the other sailors, on his ship or the others that had docked, but Eric knew it was him. The way his eyes shifted around the crowd, like he was trying to pick out an undercover operative. When the rest of the crew began to load the shrimp into tubs filled with ice, he chopped bait with a wicked looking knife. He heard familiar engines behind him, a Hummer and two patrol cars. He turned around to see H and Frank stepping out of the Hummer, two officers behind them.
"You still got him Eric?" Horatio asked. Eric could hear him step forward, and knew H was squinting his eyes to try and figure out which one was Tony. Eric passed him the binoculars.
"The rusted green one, guy chopping bait." Delko said. He watched as Horatio focused the binoculars, then as a smirk spread over his face. He lowered them, his eyes still locked on Tony. He drew his sunglasses on as he handed the binoculars back. Eric knew the look that Horatio had on his face. He was confident, their prey cornered. But when they had a suspect cornered, they often fought back. What Horatio was figuring out was how to get in, arrest Tony, and get out without any collateral damage.
"Horatio, what now?" Frank asked from behind him. The two officers were waiting by the cars, watching the CSI group. Everyone was waiting on Horatio, Eric watching as his boss considered the situation. It was a tricky setting. There was quite a crowd gathered around the dock to pick up fish, and an incredibly violent man who had no trouble killing. Too many cops would merely pull out their guns, run in and shoot their mouths off. That could quickly lead to a hostage situation
"Eric, Frank, come with me. We're going down there. If he tries to run, Eric I want you ready to go in the water. Frank, hang back a bit in case he decides to run down the dock. We're not going to be aggressive, we're going to treat him as a suspect in a case, which he is." Both Eric and Tripp nodded at Horatio's orders. It was a simple plan, but it cut off any exits that Tony might take. With a plan in place, the three set off.
Horatio breathed in the fresh air, the slight taste of salt on his tongue. The harbor, which doubled as a market place, was busy. Crowds had gathered around each ship, ready to pay for whatever the ship had hauled in. Horatio ignored the crowds, excusing himself when he needed to get by. He stopped at the Byte Me, pretending to be interested in the shrimp that was being unloaded. Tony hadn't noticed him, focused on slicing whatever unlucky fish had been caught for their bait. He could see the crew changing their nets for lines, obviously readying the ship to go out the next day.
"You want somethin'?" One of the men yelled out. He was dressed in a T-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of fisherman's boots. He held a slow burning cigar in one hand, the aromatic smoke mixing harshly with the stink of seafood. Horatio didn't notice. He'd smelled far worse in his lifetime than a bit of rotten fish. Decomp, bloaters, burnt flesh. Hell, the scent of rotten fish was pleasant compared to those.
"We need to speak with Tony Gear." Horatio told him. "Miami-Dade PD." Horatio shifted his jacket to reveal his badge and there was a sudden change in the man, he whirled around to glare at Tony. Tony himself had stopped chopping bait, his hand tightening on the handle of the knife.
"Gear, get over here." The captain barked. Tony took a couple steps over, stopping by the captain. He glared at Horatio, the knife still firmly in his grasp. Horatio didn't let it affect him, relishing in the fact that his sunglasses hid his eyes.
"What?" Tony's voice was flat, emotionless.
"Tony, can I see your knife?" Horatio asked, drawing on a pair of latex gloves. It was always best to start of with a simple request, ascertain if there was any evidence, and if there was, arrest him.
"My knife?"
"We have reason to believe that you may have been connected to an assault that occurred earlier today." Horatio let his voice drop. "Our witness says it was you." What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion, but Horatio knew it was all too fast. Tony shoved the captain, sending him flailing over the gunwale. Eric managed to catch him, staggering under the man's weight, while Tony leapt from the trawler and onto the dock. Horatio drew his gun, pointing it down as he chased after Tony. Frank and the two officers were waiting, and when Tony raised his knife to attack Frank the Texan leaned over and drove his fist into the other man's stomach. The knife clattered out of his hand, landing on the pier. When Frank drew back Tony stood up, his fists raised and Horatio could figure his eyes were darting to the knife.
"Tony. It's over." Horatio told him, stepping forward and putting the barrel of his gun inches from the back of his head. "Make your choice." He could see Tony tense, but he dropped his hands. One of the officers stepped forward, cuffing his hands behind his back. Horatio stepped over to the knife, exerting quite a bit of pressure to pop the knife out of the handle. Just as he had expected, Meursault's blood had seeped down the blade and stuck in the handle. He slid it back together, a DNA test would quickly confirm that Meursault had been attacked with this knife.
That alone would put Tony away. Horatio mentally calculated the charges against Tony. Murder in the first degree, two counts. Theft of private property. Assault with a deadly weapon. And a nice couple charges of aggrivated assualt of a police police officer to top it all off.
"Nice hit Frank." Horatio said, watching as Tony was escorted to a patrol car. The man was dragging his feet, making it harder for the officers to get him in, but eventually he was forced into the back of the car.
The Texan shook out his hand. "Yeah, well I didn't want to shoot. Wasn't sure if I'd hit you." Horatio smirked and laughed a little. He clapped his friend on the shoulder as they made their way back to the Hummer. Once they were back at the headquarters Tony was taken away, booked, and put in an interview room for Horatio. He felt a little bit of satisfaction when he saw Tony cuffed, in a chair, and under guard. While he had been being booked, Valera had run the blood from the knife against a sample from the hotel. It was a match for Meursault.
"Mr. Gear, you were quite the man to track down." Horatio said as he walked in. Tony didn't reply, merely cocking an eyebrow. "Mr. Meursault was quite willing to help our investigation."
"Damn Alexandre." Tony grumbled. Horatio could see his bald head and cruel face reflected in the table. "Shouldn't have let him live."
"Then why did you?"
"Me and Alex, we been through a lot. Little Frenchie bastard saved my life once. I could slash him, screw him up, but just couldn't finish him off." Tony looked down at the table. "Chris, that slimy asshole would have taken all my share. Fucker deserved what he got."
"That's where you're wrong." Horatio leaned over the table. "Nobody deserves that. And I am going to make sure that you never get the chance to ruin lives ever again." Horatio narrowed his eyes. "You'll never see the light of day, let alone be able to harm anyone." Horatio gestured to the guard. "Take him out." The guard grabbed Tony's shoulder, forcing him to his feet.
"Don't think I didn't notice your little girlfriend Caine. Tall, blonde, drives a blue Mustang! I watched her Caine! Watched your little guard dog go in! After Chris it was gonna be him, then her!" Tony yelled at Horatio as he was about to step out of the door. "When I get out, she's next!" Horatio tightened his grip on the door, put only pushed it open. The guard shoved Tony through, and Horatio turned in the other direction. "She's dead! I'll get her, then you! You're both dead!" That does it.
Horatio turned around, getting close to Tony's face. He held the man's eyes until Tony realized this man would gladly see him die. "If you try to hurt her, I will kill you." With that Horatio about-faced and made his way back to his office. He spent the rest of his day doing paperwork, occasionally glancing at his phone. Sure enough, he had a text from Laila. He smiled as he opened it.
Hey, Blake just left. So I guess that means congratulations! I'll have a little surprise for you when you get home.
The sense of anxiety, not in a bad way, made the day pass quickly. Soon enough he was pulling the Hummer into the parking lot and riding the elevator up to the apartment. He opened the door, greeted by a darkened room lit only by two long, tapered candles set on the table. He thought he could smell roses, and sure enough there was a vase full of them on the table, guarding two plates of steak and potatoes.
What he was surprised by though, was Laila.
She was standing by the table, trying to open a bottle of champagne. She wore a pair of jeans, tight in all the right places and a low-cut blouse. Her bare feet peeked out from the cuffs of her jeans, caressing the cool tile. The balcony was open, the wind tousling her hair. He was actually surprised to see some loose curls hanging around her shoulders. She seemed solely focused on the bottle of champagne. When he stepped forward though, she turned around and smiled widely. He could feel himself smile in return, placing his hands around her waist and kissing her. She chuckled slightly, and he heard a little thunk as she set the bottle on the table.
"You did all of this?" He asked when they broke apart.
"I thought you might like it. When Blake left I went out to get everything." Laila shifted her stance, picking the champagne up. Damn cork, get out! Horatio must have noticed her struggle because he took the bottle and quickly opened it. He poured it into the two glasses on the table. Laila lifted one up, readying for a toast. "To freedom." She said it without thinking, but just seeing the way Horatio's brow crinkled and his eyes narrowed made her regret it instantly. "Alright, that was bad. I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry. How about, safety?"
"Better." Horatio said, clinking his glass against hers. They both sipped at the bubbly liquid, Laila enjoying the feeling of the bubbles in her stomach. Horatio sat in a chair to her right, digging into dinner. She joined him, enjoying the savory steak and onion encrusted potatoes. Horatio seemed to be enjoying it as well. He made little grunts of satisfaction as he ate, stopping only when the plate had been cleaned.
"That was delicious." Horatio told her as she picked up his plate. She slipped them into the dishwasher, coming back to find him out on the balcony. As she looked at him from the door, she realized why she had done everything she had. It was for him. The way he would smile and speak to her made her want to do anything she could to make him happy, because him being happy made her happy. It had been chaotic for awhile, getting the flowers and steak from a grocery store and cooking it all up. Curling her hair had taken longer than she had wanted, there was enough hairspray in her hair to keep a mohawk vertical. She joined him out on the balcony, a little shocked when he pulled her over to sit on his lap instead of the other chair.
"Hmmm," He murmmured against her neck. "You are so wonderful. I love you." Laila could feel him run his nose along her neck, breathing in the Chanel No. 5 she had spritzed on her wrists and neck.
"I love you too, I love that we can do this again." She replied, giggling slightly at the slight sensation of his breath on her neck. "I think I might have gone crazy if I was kept inside any longer."
"It was just to keep you safe. Not to hurt you." He said, catching her chin gently in his fingers. "I would never do anything to hurt you."
"I know, and I don't want you to feel that I blame you for anything. I'm just glad out lives are back to normal." Horatio gave her a look. "Well, as normal as our lives can get." He chuckled at that, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. Some odd feeling possessed her and she blew gently on the top of his head, through his hair to tickle his scalp. She then pressed kisses to his hair, feather light. Horatio groaned slightly, his hand on the small of her back as she pressed closer to him. She knew they'd wind up in the bed before long, but for now they could just sit out here in each others arms, the ever present breeze from the ocean curling around them, cooling heated skin.
AN: Well, with this chapter this becomes my longest story on . And truthfully, I'm happy about it. I think I finally found a fandom that I can settle in, instead of drifting from fandom to fandom. It's got a good combination of science, imagery, and interesting characters. Everything in CSI: Miami makes sense, and it just feels right.