Chapter Three

'Does Sara know that the power to the alarm will run out with the power off?' Nick asked into the quiet. They were all still in the back of the van, waiting. Some more patiently than others. Catherine was staring at the phone, as if she could telekinetically will a message of hope through to her daughter. She was comforted to know that through this nightmare her daughter was sleeping. That she wasn't worrying.

Grissom stood behind Catherine a constant, silent, comforting presence. It felt wrong, just to be standing still. To be doing nothing whilst Sara was very possibly trapped inside a wired building. To not have any say in the case, to have to watch whilst the others, the experts he reminded himself, do their job.

Warrick had stepped out of the van a few minutes ago, unable to stand the atmosphere any longer, and didn't hear Nick's question. He knew the answer, though. They hadn't said anything to Sara. Probably didn't want to risk panicking her and making her do something stupid. Which just showed that they didn't know Sara at all; he couldn't imagine Sara panicking in any situation, least of all where her actions could have such an effect on another life.

'No, she doesn't. And we won't tell her unless we have to.' The detective answered, not bothering to turn around to actually face Nick. Which rilled Nick straight away.

'She's gonna ask.' Nick stated. 'Are you going to lie to her?'

'If we have to.' The sergeant said.

Nick was fuming, but at a look from Grissom, didn't say anything more. There was no point in further upsetting anyone.

'Do you have any enemies. Have you had any threats in recent times?' The sergeant asked Catherine.

'No threats. And I would imagine I have a lot of enemies in prison.' She said grimly.

'Anyone ever threatened your family, you, because of your job?'

'A few- mostly when they're being charged with murder.'

'Any names?'

'Not that I can remember- a lot of people get angry when being arrested.' Catherine was trying to stay patient, but the questioning didn't appear to mean anything.

'Anyone you put away recently get out of jail?'

'I don't know. It's not like I keep tabs on all of them.' Catherine answered testily. 'Why hasn't this guy called back with a ransom?'

The detective shook his head; he didn't know anymore than they did.

Warrick watched the navy clothed bomb squad all start drifting back to their leader, a big tall guy who wouldn't have looked out of place in the marines. They all seemed to be reporting what they had found before the leader turned and started walking towards the control van he was stood outside of.

He stuck his head inside. 'Detective, can I have a word? Out here.'

'Say whatever you've got to say here. I want to hear it.' Catherine commanded, and even though he might have looked like a marine, the guy still jumped at the tone of her voice.

The police detective and bomb squad expert exchanged glances before the detective nodded his head. It was useless trying to hide information from them, they would find out eventually.

The bomb squad leader stepped into the crowded van, Warrick stepping in behind him and closing the door firmly. They didn't need the press getting any more detail than necessary.

'The bomb is a positive.' The first words out of the bomb squad guy's mouth brought collective sighs and sharp cry from Catherine. 'Two lengths of c4 and Centex wired to the external alarm, through the housing cavity. Suggestions that more wiring leads to the cellar. Wired directly onto the alarms wires, which would trip the timing straight away.'

Catherine dropped her head into her hands, as all the hope she had been relying on collapsed in ruins at the words.

Grissom, Warrick and Nick looked helpless, whilst Brass looked at the expert sharply. 'How are you going to take it out?' He commanded rather than asked.

'We have yet to find out a way to unarm the bomb. The alarms internal clock will be the timing device- the alarms circuit breaker is what it's running from. If the circuit breaks, the timers triggered, and the bombs will explode. When the power runs out from the alarm, the circuit will fail, and will trigger the bomb. We can't get a close enough look from out here.'

For a moment there was silence in the van.

'Get the power company on the phone!' The detective barked. 'I want the power back on within twenty minutes.'

'Unwise- the power coming back on will trip the alarm back into the house, and could potentially trip the bomb.'

'So we've got till midnight?' The detective asked.

'Midnight.' The bomb expert echoed with a nod of his head.

The silence came back more stifling than ever. When the detective spoke again, his voice was suddenly quieter than before. The harshness to it was all too loud though. 'Get out there and find a way to disable this bomb.'

'Yes sir.'

She couldn't stand the silence anymore. It was driving her mad. If only she could turn on the radio or something. Listen to something except the occasional sigh of a breath from Lindsey as she slept, or her own breathing. She was sat in the corridor, opposite Lindsey's bedroom door. Sitting and listening to the sounds of silence. Without the power on, the usual sounds of a silent house, the hum of the air conditioning, or the fridge the house seemed bigger. Bigger and yet somehow more claustrophobic. Sara had never really had a fear of the dark or of closed in places. But in this place, in this silence, it felt like the very air around her was closing in, pressing against her, pushing her into the wall, not allowing her to move.

She startled even herself by suddenly jumping to her feet. She was being stupid. She was being melodramatic, and she was panicking. All things which she wasn't usually, and she decided then and there she wasn't about to become. She was a scientist. The walls around her were the same as they had been five minutes ago. An hour ago. Two hours ago. Time wasn't running faster or slower. The regular breathing she strained to hear from Lindsey indicated that. The house wasn't moving around her.

Yet.

The silence. That was what was wrong. Silence meant no movement. No action. No one doing anything to end this nightmare and get her little girl out safe. She could scream. It would break the silence at least. But she wouldn't. She was the professional if nothing else. She couldn't break down now. There was still time. Until her little girl's last breath there was still time. Because Catherine wouldn't give up hope till then. She knew that.

She looked around her, at her colleagues and friends. 'Isn't there anything we can do?' She asked no one in particular. She didn't like sitting here doing nothing. Not when it was her little girl in there. Her baby.

'The professionals are on it, Catherine.' The police detective answered. 'They're the best.'

'But can't we do something…else? Find out who might be behind this. A suspect? Go to the source? Something.' She implored.

The detective looked thoughtful.

It was Grissom that spoke though. 'Maybe we should look up some cases we've had with bombers.' He said thoughtfully. Hopefully. He didn't exactly enjoy sitting doing nothing either.

The detective simply nodded.

Grissom looked at Nick and Warrick. 'Let's go search the database.' He said simply to them.

'I want to do something.' Catherine told him.

'I know. But I also know you won't leave here. We'll get back to you as soon as possible.'

'Has anyone done the perimeter?' Nick suddenly asked.

'It'll be wrecked.' Grissom stated.

Nick was dejected for a moment. 'What about fingerprints? There might be something. Anything.'

Catherine jumped to her feet, but the detective pulled her down just as hard. 'No.' He said forcefully.

'But…'

'No. I don't need you getting impulsive and doing something stupid. You can't be the CSI here, Catherine.' He finished, his voice an effort to be gentle.

'I'm not gonna be the victim.' Catherine stated.

'Hopefully you won't be.'

'I'll do it.' Nick said. 'My kits in the car.'

Grissom nodded. 'Print door and window frames.' He said. 'And anything else suspicious.'

'On it.' Nick said, looking more than pleased to finally be doing something.

'You should phone Sara, tell her what's happening.' Grissom said, and the detective nodded, dialling the number into the phone, again leaving it on speakerphone.

'Yo, thought you'd forgotten about me.' Said a familiar voice- they could all hear the jumpiness in Sara's voice.

Nick had paused by the door, listening to the conversation.

'How you holding up in there?' The detective asked.

'Oh I'm fantastic.' Sara stated her voice laced with sarcasm.

'Good.' The detective said. 'Look one of your colleagues is gonna do some printing of the perimeter- see if they can find anything.'

'So this is real then?' Sara stated more than asked. 'You confirmed that there's a bomb?'

'At this moment nothing is confirmed we're just.'

'Cut the crap!' Sara cried. 'I know you wouldn't be printing if there wasn't something you were looking at. Don't lie to me.'

For a moment the detective was silent. 'I'm sorry.' He finally said.

'Tell me what's going on.' Sara asked.

'I don't think that's'

'Tell me what's going on.' Sara stated again, her tone hard.

'We're following up ways to disable the bomb.'

'How long till the alarm runs out of power?' Sara asked.

'That's not.'

'The powers off. It's not running on thin air. How long?'

'I'm not gonna.'

'How long?' they could all hear that Sara was trying to control the volume of her voice.

'Midnight.' Grissom finally said out loud.

They heard a sharp intake of breath.

'Tell me how I can disable this thing.' Sara said.

'Don't touch a thing.' The police detective shouted.

'Grissom.' Sara stated, ignoring the policeman. 'There must be something I can do from this end? Come on, use me. I'm just sitting here doing nothing and it's driving me insane.'

'I don't know, Sara, to be honest. Look, let me talk to the bomb disposal guy. I'll get back to you, ok?'

There was no answer for a beat till Sara finally said 'ok.' The detective was about to say goodbye when Sara said 'Catherine?'

Catherine jumped at the sound of her name. 'Yeah?'

'You have a beautiful angel.' Sara told her, before she cut the call.

Catherine sat stunned till a tear tracked down her cheek.

Finally things were moving, the silence broken with talk and movement, and activity.

Catherine started thinking back, jotting down cases where either she had been threatened or there had been a bomb involved. She'd been on the job a decade, had many cases, but it was amazing, once she started thinking, how much she could remember.

Sara stood, her forehead leaning against the cold pane of glass, her breathing making condensation appear on the pane, fogging it up, letting it turn clear again before her next breath fogged it up again. She caught movement in her periphery, and moved slightly, standing up straight, catching Nick with the movement, causing him to look up at her. He smiled slightly, raising a hand in which he held a brush, the fingerprint dust in his other hand.

Sara tried to smile back. In his smile she saw pain, saw the fear of the situation. Saw that he was trying to give her hope. But he was on the other side of the glass, and she couldn't touch him. She felt trapped, even more so than before, her breath coming faster, not allowing the fog to clear on the pane of glass before her next one. In that one look, Sara saw that everyone else was beginning to see this as hopeless, that they hadn't got a clue. That they were going through the motions, but didn't know what for.

Sara gave up the smile, failing miserably and pushed off the pane of glass, stumbling back into the cocoon of the big house, away from well meaning looks and gestures.

Back to watching the little angel she was meant to be protecting.

She tried hard not to laugh at the thought, but failed, the laughter getting caught in her throat, next to a big lump that promised tears weren't far away. She stared hard at the wall, blinking furiously against the tears, refusing to give in to hopelessness.

With years of training, Sara slipped easily back into the role of scientist, investigator, wrapping it around herself like body armour. Taking a step back from it all in her mind, looking at it as she did a crime scene, as if it was somebody else's nightmare, somebody else's problem. With the cool detachment she used on the job to block out the harder parts of crime scenes, she made herself focus on the facts rather than emotions, hoping that Grissom came up with something for her to do. Something she could use to influence this, instead of just sitting and waiting it out. She didn't think she could do that for five more minutes, let alone till midnight.

She just wanted out of this nightmare.