Author's Note: OK, so I know I kinda left y'all hanging in that last chapter, but I have been plowing through a 12 page Chaucer paper…mine's kinda 4 pages of info, 8 pages of fluff. Oh well, let me get back to the point…..I don't own them; I just live vicariously through them.
* * *
Nick was stumbling around the hallways. He felt like he was going in circles. He hadn't found the exit, but he hadn't found the bad guys either, which he figured was a pretty good thing. He could help but feel a knot of worry in the pit of his stomach. He wished he knew where Greg was. He didn't like the idea of his friend being alone while these madmen were gunning for them. He hoped that Greg had managed to escape but Nick suspected that Greg was just as lost as he was. This stupid building seemed to be an unending labyrinth of twists and turns. Every time Nick thought he was making progress, he found himself face to face with a concrete wall.
He continued to fumble his way through the dark when he noticed something. His heart skipped a beat, and he squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them to make sure it wasn't a mistake.
Light.
There was a sliver of light emitting from underneath a door at the end of the hallway. It was a dull, amber light. Not unlike a street light Nick thought to himself. Quickly, carefully he made his way to the door. Holding his breath, he pushed on it.
It swung open.
Nick found himself looking at the back lot of the building. The cool night air brushed his face and he thought to himself that nothing had ever quite felt so good. He started out the door, the hesitated. Greg was still inside. Or at least Nick thought he was. He didn't want to leave if Greg was still lost somewhere in that maze of a warehouse. Nick weighed his options. He could go back inside and look for Greg, but that could take hours. And if Sanders had got out then Nick would be risking his life for nothing. If he went outside he could find a phone and call for help. Nick was torn and unsure of how to proceed. There were just too many unaccounted for variables. The costs seemed to far outweigh the risks.
He slipped outside and shut the door behind him.
* * *
"Come on!" Warrick yelled as he hugged the curb, trying to squeeze past a car that seemed to be going awfully slow. They had finally managed to extract a location from Al, and he and the team were racing towards the warehouse. Up ahead he could see Brass' police cruiser roaring along. The red and blue lights flashed on the abandoned buildings, creating and eerie mosaic. Warrick followed as quickly and carefully as he could. The Tahoe was silent as the team silently tried to prepare themselves for the situation. Brass had tried to deter them from going ("It's dangerous; you could get hurt") but Grissom had left him little option ("We carry guns – and our aim is just as good as yours"). Warrick had been chilled by that comment, and the look on Sara's face suggested she was spooked too. It was very uncharacteristic of Grissom to display such a malevolent sense of rage towards anybody, but Warrick supposed that given the right conditions anyone would snap. And, he reasoned, having two of your team mates taken hostage was as good a time as any to get upset.
Brass killed the cruiser's lights. He didn't want to let the men inside the warehouse know that they were coming. They needed the element of surprise on their side if they wanted to get Nick and Greg out alive.
"Around the back!" Sara's sudden scream caused them all to jump a foot in the air. Warrick followed where her arm was pointing and saw a figure running around the back of the building.
"Get Brass on the walkie" he barked to whoever was listening as he turned the wheel sharply to the left in order to go around behind the building from the other side. As he reached the back of the building, he noticed that Grissom had drawn his gun. So had Catherine. Despite the look of fear and apprehension in her eyes, her hand was steady. The Tahoe was barely stopped before Gil and Cath leapt out and began to make their way around back.
"Brass said to wait for his signal" Sara told Warrick.
"A little late for that, don't you think?" he replied gesturing in the directions of Grissom and Catherine.
Sara swore under her breath and pulled her gun out. Warrick sighed and followed suit. They swept the perimeter with their eyes as they followed the two senior CSI's around the back. Suddenly shouts broke through the night air.
"That's Nick!" Catherine's voice floated over her shoulder as she and the rest of the team took off in a dead run in the direction of the noise.
Brass' advice went unheeded by all.
* * *
Nick wasn't sure why he did it. But when he saw the man coming around the side of the building, he had just reacted. He waited in the shadows of the metal stairs that led down from the loading dock until the man (whom he would later know as Randy) was close enough. Nick had launched himself onto the man's back, knocking the gun from his hands. They were wrestling on the ground when the sound of voices permeated the night air.
"Police! Step away from him!" Seconds later, Randy was being hauled off Nick by a large uniformed cop whose name Nick couldn't remember. He was vaguely aware of Brass' face in his line of sight when a pair of arms threw themselves around his neck from behind.
"Oh God Nick! We were so worried!" Catherine had a death grip around his neck as she hugged him ferociously. Her eyes travelled to the blood on his shirt.
"Just grazed me" he said before she could comment. He pulled himself to his feet and found himself looking into Grissom's eyes.
"Where's Greg?" they asked one another at the same time.
Nick shook his head. "I don't know. I was hoping he was with you"
"Well we were hoping he was with you!" Grissom retorted, upset that they were still short a team member.
"Gentleman, gentleman" a third voice broke through the noise. The CSI's aimed their guns at the sound of the voice. It sounded like it was coming from the loading dock, but they couldn't see anyone. The voice spoke again.
"You needn't worry about your friend's whereabouts. You see-" Isaac King began to step out of the shadows "-Greg is with me"
Nick's face paled as King stepped into the dim light of the loading dock, some 8 or 9 feet above them. One arm warm wrapped tightly around Greg's throat. The other held a gun to Greg's temple.