Chapter 21
A hand shaking Greg's shoulder awoke him some time later. He opened his eyes, and found Grissom leaning carefully over Nick, who was still out cold curled up against Greg's side. It took him a moment to remember that they were in Doc Robbins's office.
"How'd you know where to find us?" he asked softly.
"Doc Robbins called, as soon as he'd seen you settled in. He didn't want me to worry, since you didn't go to the break room," Grissom replied, equally as softly.
"Oh," Greg said, not sure anything else needed to be said.
Grissom's face lit up with a wide smile, and he quietly said, "We've got a name! Judge Lionel Morris. Brass is coordinating with the Austin field office of the F.B.I. right now. They've had suspicions about him for years, just couldn't prove anything."
Nick stirred against Greg's side, a small whimper escaping his lips. Rubbing his hand over Nick's back, Greg made a shushing noise, and whispered, "Go back to sleep, Nicky," in the other man's ear, before quietly asking Grissom, "So, what now?"
"Danny Mackenzie is willing to wear a wire and try to get Judge Morris to talk." The look in Grissom's eyes had a decidedly predatory gleam, Greg decided. "He said the plan was to kill the two of us, then deliver Nick to Morris three days from now."
"You aren't seriously considering letting that madman take Nicky to this Judge Morris!" Greg's voice crept upwards in volume, and Nick stirred against him again.
"Judge Morris will know something's wrong, if we don't let Mackenzie take Nick. Greg, he's got to do this! It's the only way to take Morris down, and clear Nick's father, finally free Nick completely!"
Greg's arm went around Nick protectively.
Suddenly wide awake, Nick looked first into Greg's face, then twisted his head towards the presence he sensed behind him, taking in the fierce look on Grissom's face.
"Greg?" Nick's voice was full of dread and fear. He sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Greg sat up, too, draping an arm around Nick's shoulders comfortingly.
With a sigh of resignation, Greg said, "I guess you're right, Grissom. I'm going with him, though." The look on Greg's face told Grissom that this was nonnegotiable.
"Okay. We'll figure out a way to get you to Texas," Grissom gave in much more easily than Greg had imagined he would. With both of them supposedly dead, Greg had thought Grissom would try to argue that the whole operation could be blown if Greg went to Texas with Nick. He decided that Grissom must have realized that Greg wouldn't allow Nick to go without him.
"What's going on?" Nick asked quietly, looking between the other two men.
"Nicky, you want to have your dad's name cleared, and be freed, right?" Greg asked, placing his free hand on Nick's cheek to keep the other man's gaze focused on him.
"Yes," was the low, but instant response.
"We need your help. Mackenzie is supposed to deliver you to Judge Morris in three days. Will you let him take you to Judge Morris?"
A wild look flitted across Nick's face, but Greg watched him take control of himself. Dark brown eyes met caramel colored eyes, and Nick gave a sharp nod of his head. "You'll be there with me," it was a statement, as Nick had heard the end of Greg and Grissom's conversation.
"I won't be able to be with you the whole way, but I'll stay with you for as long as I can. I won't leave you with those two men any longer than I have to!"
Grissom held up the evidence envelope he'd had Doc Robbins drop the RFID into earlier. Nick paled and shrank back against Greg, who gave Grissom a questioning look, as his arm tightened around Nick's shoulders.
"We need to secure this under the gauze on your wrist, Nick. Judge Morris may scan for it, and he'll know something's up, if he doesn't find it. Just under the gauze, not back in your wrist," Grissom did his best to reassure Nick, not wanting the younger man to back out and cause the plan to fall apart.
Gesturing to the envelope, Greg said, "Give it to me. I'll take care of it."
Handing Greg the offensive object, Grissom said, "I've got to go finish up the arrangements. We have to be at McCarran in two hours. The F.B.I. is sending a plane for us."
"Okay, boss. Just call my cell, when we're ready to go," Greg replied.
After the door clicked closed behind Grissom, Greg turned to Nick. "Are you sure you're going to be okay doing this?"
"I'm scared out of my mind," Nick admitted quietly. "I want this over, though, so I'll do it." He scooted closer into Greg's arms, leaning his head on Greg's shoulder. "Make love to me, please!" the tone of his voice gave Greg the impression that Nick felt like this would be the last time.
Twisting his head to capture Nick's lips in a searing kiss, Greg teased the other man's mouth open, and their tongues met in a gentle caress. Putting one hand on the side of Nick's head, he deepened the kiss until they both pulled back a moment later, panting for breath.
"This isn't going to be the last time I make love to you, Nicky! It's just the first of too many times to count. I'll make love to you every day, if you'll let me!" Greg breathed out, as he reached over and locked the door before pushing Nick down on the bed, and kissed him again.
Remembering the small envelope he still held in his other hand, Greg pulled back, and took Nick's gauze wrapped wrist. Unwinding the gauze, he first placed a gentle kiss over the closed incision, before he wrapped the gauze once around Nick's wrist. Then he placed the rice sized RFID in the gauze and securely wrapped the rest of the gauze around Nick's wrist.
Greg was leaning in to capture Nick's lips in another kiss, when it dawned on him that their supplies had been on the night stand in the hotel room. A hangdog look settled on his face.
The slightly comical look on Greg's face brought forth a small smile and chuckle from Nick. "What?"
Resting his forehead against Nick's with a disappointed sigh, Greg replied, "No supplies. And I'm not about to call Grissom up and ask him to go out and get us any. That would just be embarrassing! I'm sorry, Nicky. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"
"But, couldn't we just..." Nick didn't get to finish his sentence, as Greg's phone chose that moment to ring.
Greg pulled the phone from his pocket, answering with, "Sanders," as he flipped it open.
"I know it hasn't been two hours yet, but we're ready. Meet us by the elevators in the parking garage," Grissom began without preamble.
Already pulling Nick up from the bed, Greg said, "We're on our way, Grissom."
As they walked through the morgue, Greg tossed a quick, "Thanks, Doc," towards Doc Robbins, who was in the middle of another autopsy. Greg didn't pause to hear his response, choosing instead to avoid seeing the inside of a dead body.
When the elevator doors opened into the parking garage, Greg and Nick found Grissom, Brass, and a handcuffed McKenzie waiting for them. Greg automatically put himself between McKenzie and Nick, shielding his lover from the man who had hurt him. McKenzie didn't look at either of them, keeping his eyes cast down at the floor. Greg wondered if he was already preparing himself for the life of a slave.
Greg sat between Nick and McKenzie in the back of Brass's Taurus, while Brass drove and Grissom rode shotgun. Thus, the drive to McCarran International Airport was made without incident. Brass drove the Taurus to a government owned hanger, where an F.B.I. Leer jet awaited them, fully fueled and ready to taxi out to the runway.
To Greg's untrained eye, other than the tail number, there were no identifying marks on the plane – certainly nothing that screamed, "F.B.I." But then, Greg supposed that was probably the whole point. F.B.I. agents could be flown into an area without everyone knowing that's what they were. For all intents and purposes, they could be businessmen with access to the company jet, flying into town for a meeting.
Despite the circumstances, Nick looked excited, and perhaps a bit nervous, leading Greg to guess the other man had never flown before.
Leaning in towards Nick, Greg said, "Is this your first time flying?"
"My parents flew the whole family down to Florida one year, to go to Disney World, but I was really little at the time. I don't really remember it." A frown settled over Nick's face, drawing out the lines in his forehead and around his eyes. "I wish I could remember it. Memories are all I have left of my parents."
Letting out a sad sigh, Greg pulled Nick up the short ladder into the plane. The interior of the plane wasn't really what Greg had expected – though to tell the truth, he hadn't really known what to expect. He'd never been in a Leer jet before, only seen the interiors of them on TV. In those, the interiors had been similar to that of a limo – long seats stretched along the exterior walls of the plane, small tables set at intervals all down the way, perhaps a conversation area, where there might be four arm chairs set so they were facing each other around a small dining table.
The interior of this Leer jet was more along the lines of a commercial jet in its set up. Greg supposed that followed more to function – after all, the plane was meant to transport large amounts of F.B.I. agents from place to place, as the need for them required. There was an aisle down the middle of the plane, with pairs of seats on each side – a scaled down version of a commercial jet. Overhead compartments offered storage for any carry-on luggage.
Brass had pushed McKenzie into a window seat, and was sitting in the seat next to him. Grissom had taken up residence in the row across from Brass and McKenzie. He had on a pair of reading glasses, and was perusing the latest edition of a forensics journal.
Still holding Nick's hand, Greg pulled him towards the front of the plane, where they would have some privacy. "You want the window seat, Nicky?"
"Sure," Nick responded, the excited look back on his face, though the tension of a few minutes ago didn't seem to have fully drained from his features.
After they'd both settled in, Greg leaned into Nick, touching their foreheads together. "When this is all over with, we'll get hold of your brother and sisters. I'm sure they'll be happy to talk about your memories of your parents, help you remember more about them. They probably even have pictures."
Touching Greg's cheek with his fingertips, Nick smiled, "How is it that you seem to know exactly what I need?"
"Because you're my soul," was Greg's only response.
The co-pilot came out of the cockpit and walked back to secure the door. Within minutes, they were in the air. Greg could feel the end of their ordeal nearing, and could only pray that it ended well.