(A.N. Thanks for the reviews- you guys are fab! And Lindsey's six. I should really check this more thoroughly!)
Stepping into the coolness of the CSI headquarters felt strangely like coming home. The comfort of familiarity, the calming quality of seeing the people you saw every day. Warrick shook off the feeling, moving like a man with a mission through to the DNA lab. Greg sat hunched over a microscope, looking suspiciously like he was actually doing work.
'Greg.' Warrick announced from the door, hoping not to startle him.
'Hey, Warrick.' Greg said, giving the microscope a final look before turning his attention fully to the CSI. 'Got something for me? You guys have been awfully quiet tonight on the sample front.'
'Uh.' Warrick managed. In the excitement, no one had actually gotten around to telling Greg what was happening, and he didn't have a TV in here to catch the news. Warrick cleared his throat, before detailing what had happened.
He watched the colour drain from Greg's face. 'Why didn't someone tell me?' Greg finally asked angrily when Warrick finished. 'I've been sitting her doing scut work for Ecklie when Sara's in…' He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't know how to.
'Sorry man, in all the excitement.'
'I was forgotten.' Greg finished sourly for him. 'Sara's my friend and colleague too, you know.'
'Yeah, I know. But you can help me now.' Warrick said, and detailed what he needed.
The labs had gone fully digital last year- including an up to the minute fully searchable database of crimes that the CSI lab had worked over the past fifty years. It included everything from details of crime, who worked the cases, significant features, and if anyone was ever prosecuted. It was used in all sorts of ways. Checking for similar crimes or circumstances, keeping track of cases going to trial and the verdicts. The monthly arrest and containment statistics. It was a private database, with links to the national FBI databases and several neighbouring jurisdictions. The full potential of something that had taken the best part of five years and five full time staff to put together had yet to be realised, and the Sheriff was frequently heard complaining about having to hire a member of staff to maintain it full time.
At this moment, however, it all became worth it as with only several hits of keys, Warrick put in the search parameters, and set the machine going. There were seventeen cases that Catherine had worked involving bombs, stretching back to when she had joined CSI ten years ago. Warrick printed off all the details he could, able to dismiss one case straight away as the perp who had been put away for the bombing, in a café in 1994, had died a year ago in prison. They divided the pile between them, searching through the details in the hope of eliminating cases down. The hope, of course, was not to eliminate them all, but to be left with a name behind this nightmare.
It was a long shot, at best, but as the adrenaline buzzed, both were glad to be doing something.
The call was logged at exactly twenty two minutes past ten. T minus one hour and forty eight, and everyone was counting. It was a recording, that much was obvious. An automated voice telling them to leave a million dollars in small non sequential bills at a specified location.
Then the bomb would be disabled.
They had all listened to the message at least five times. For the last one, Catherine had sat forward in her chair, calmly and dispassionately smashed a glass on the side. 'This is crap!' She had stated. 'Where the hell am I gonna get a million dollars from?'
A technician decided at that moment to tell them that the call was untraceable.
Grissom hadn't heard the call. He was deep in conversation with the leader of the bomb disposal unit, discussing ways that they could use Sara, and more importantly, for the bomb disposal guy, asking whether Sara could be trusted to stay calm if they did use her.
Grissom had stated that she was, with such sincerity that the guy, Lewis, didn't bother to ask again.
'I've been studying the plans for the house. It looks likely that the perp entered the house somehow, and planted the bomb from the inside, most likely from the cellar.' Lewis spread out the plans for the house on the ground, two Tahoe's and the LVPD van shading them from prying eyes of press and public. He indicated where he meant on the plans.
'The access is off the kitchen, in what looks like a walk-in cupboard.' Lewis carried on. 'What we're not sure of is the alarm controls yet, we'll have to check with Ms Willows whether it's covered by the alarm or not. But that can wait- I don't want to get her hopes up any at this stage.'
'What else can be done?' Grissom asked not understanding.
'One thing that would help is being able to visualise the control panel, see how the bomb has been wired into the alarm. We can't do it from out here, the alarm panel is in the house.'
'But Sara could.'
'Maybe. It would depend how the panel is set up, whether the casing can be lifted to reveal wires without the risk of disturbing the timer or alarm at all. And of course from out here, we can't determine that.'
'Sara could.'
'It's a big risk. To the untrained eye, one wire pretty much looks like another. I know Sara's a CSI, a good one; I've worked with her before. But this is tricky, delicate stuff. One false move could blow the bomb, and the house with it sky high. And there would be nothing we could do about it from out here.'
'Well it's gonna blow up at midnight whatever we do. Isn't it worth the risk?' Grissom asked.
Lewis had been debating this for a while, and nodded. 'I thought so. But first things first: We evacuate and move everyone a block away. We don't need civilians caught up in this mess.'
It took a good half hour to co-ordinate everyone to move. They set up a new command a block away, the house no longer in sight. The half hour allowed Nick to finish his walk of the perimeter. The results had been sparse. Going over all the ground floor window frames and catches had resulted in only three usable finger prints, two of which were partials. He had, however, got one suspicious hair, snagged on the corner of some flaking paint on what he guessed was the bathroom window. The only reason he thought it might have been any use was it was long and brunette. Catherine and Lindsey were both blond, and as far as Nick knew, Catherine's sister had short hair. There could be a perfectly simple explanation, but Nick bagged it anyway. You never knew what might be useful.
He got a beat cop to run the fingerprints and hair back to CSI HQ, calling Warrick on his way back to the command van to let him know what to expect. He asked about the database, not knowing whether to be happy or not that they had so far narrowed it down to six old cases that could be involved.
He told Small and Catherine what his search of the perimeter had turned up, asking Catherine if she had any ideas where the hair might have come from. 'Not from anyone I can think of.'
'He had to have had access somehow.' The detective said thoughtfully. 'Any unusual visits recently?' He asked Catherine.
Catherine thought about it but nothing obvious sprung to mind.
'How about cold callers- people trying to sell things, or offer services?' He asked.
'Not that I know of. And I'm there usually, during the day, unless we had to pull a double at work.'
'Any recent work done inside the house? Gas, electricity. Water?'
'No, nothing.' Catherine said. She gazed out of the one way window at the circus around her. She didn't like not being able to see the house still. What if Lindsey needed her and she wasn't around? She realised how stupid that thought was as Grissom and Lewis stepped into the back of the van.
The detective looked up at them. 'Any ideas?' he asked. He knew Grissom had gone to ask the bomb disposal expert if there was anything that could be done from inside of the house.
'Maybe.' Lewis answered, not letting away anything for now.
Catherine didn't like it, and was vocal with it. 'Maybe! Maybe! What kind of answer is that?'
'Ms Willows, please. I didn't mean that to sound as unambiguous as it did.' Lewis said smoothly. 'But you have to understand that we are stepping on shaky ground here. Anything we will do from now on could see the bomb explode in a blink of an eye. For that reason we are gonna proceed with small steps. Baby steps. And when I say we have to, we stop, and look for another avenue of investigation.
Catherine nodded her understanding. She was desperate for something to happen, but when it came to being cautious, she was all for it, after all it was her baby in there.
'Ok, first we have to get a communication line to Sara.' Lewis said.
'No problem.' The detective said.
'Now I'll leave it on speaker phone as long as you all understand I'm gonna need silence, and for no one to interrupt.' Lewis said firmly.
They all nodded.
The phone began ringing over the speaker, all of them surprised that it wasn't answered on the first ring. It wasn't till the forth ring that it was picked up, Sara simply saying 'yes?'
'Sara? I'm Mark Lewis, with the LV bomb squad. You wanted to help, and we've got some ideas mapped out, but I want to make one thing clear: You follow everything I say to the letter, no messing, clear?'
'Clear.' Sara answered. 'What can I do?' The jumpiness seemed to have gone, her voice calm, business like.
'Ok, first off, do you have hands free by any chance?'
'Uh…' For a moment there was silence over the line. 'Hold on.' Sara finally said, and down the line they heard faint movement and the sound of paper being shifted around.
'Ok, yes, it's connected.' Sara finally said.
'Good, cause you're gonna need both hands.' Lewis said. 'Now I want you to go to the alarm panel, and describe it for me.'
'It's a plastic box.' Sara said deadpan.
'Yes, what else?' Lewis prompted.
'It has a fold down flap revealing an LCD display, a number panel, and four buttons down the side lettered a to d.' Sara said, beginning to sound impatient now. 'It's your regular alarm panel.' She added.
'Bear with me, Sara, I promise this has a point.' Lewis said patiently. 'Now, how is it fixed onto the wall?'
'Uh, four screws, fixing the back panel on the wall.' Sara said.
'Any wires visible?'
'No.'
'Any signs that it's been tampered with recently?'
'No. Screws look like they haven't been touched since instalment.' Sara said. They could all hear the change in Sara's voice as the conversation ventured into investigator area.
'Ok. I'm gonna need you to remove the front panel to visualise behind it. Hold on.' Lewis said. He put the phone on mute for a moment, they could hear Sara, who was doing as she had been told, while Lewis turned to Catherine. 'Any screwdrivers, DIY stuff around?'
'Cupboard under the stairs, there's a box of stuff.'
Lewis clicked of mute. 'Ok, Sara, if you head to the cupboard under the stairs you should find a box of screwdrivers.' He said.
They waited a few moments, hearing a door open and the sound of metal being clanked around. For a moment Catherine worried that Lindsey was gonna wake up, then remembered the time she had set off the fire alarm by burning dinner and she had barely stirred.
'Got it.' Sara finally said. There was silence, and a slight swish of denim against denim as Sara walked back. 'Oh.' She muttered.
'What oh?' Lewis enquired.
'Well, you know the powers out? I've got a tea light in one hand, and screwdriver in the other. Is there a torch or something around?'
Lewis looked at Catherine, although he didn't bother to mute the phone.
'Look in my bedside cabinet, top drawer.' Catherine finally said. She didn't think that it would be wise to mention that it was her lingerie drawer, and hoped that Sara wouldn't either.
She didn't, just telling them when she'd got it, sounding relieved. They could all imagine that after being in near darkness for a while, the light of the torch was a relief.
'Ok, I'm gonna remove the screws.' Sara said.
'Start at the bottom. And do it slowly.' Lewis instructed.
'Because we've got all the time in the world.' Sara muttered sarcastically before putting the small Maglite between her teeth, and starting on the screws. The thought that it had been nestled in Catherine's lingerie drawer crossed her mind, but Sara assumed that it was all clean. Then wished she hadn't started thinking about it at all. She could really have done without knowing what kind of underwear Catherine favoured. Although it was weird that both she and Catherine seemed to favour thongs.
'Ok, how about this guy- Kevin Lee, got five years for bombing a coffee shop.' Greg said.
'I remember that. Guy was "experimenting". Luckily it was after hours, no one was hurt.' Warrick said. 'Doesn't exactly fit the vengeful picture.' Warrick said taking the piece of paper, scanning the details quickly.
'Could be escalating?' Greg theorised.
'Yep, or he could have learnt his lesson and be back being a useful member of society.' Warrick said. He typed the guys name into the system, which told him he'd got out on parole after three years and was currently living in western LV. 'I'll call a patrol car to go round, see what he's up to.' Warrick said, getting onto the phone to dispatch. So far this method had discounted three people, all of whom had been in bed asleep, their families around them when the police had come knocking.
Greg was getting impatient. 'This is crap- we're never gonna find him in these- who says it's even a guy who's done it before? It could be anyone- a nut of the street who just picked Catherine's house cause it looked pretty.' He pointed out.
'I know. But do you just want to sit there and watch the house blow?' Warrick pointed out. 'At least this way it feels like we're kinda doing something.'
Greg finally shrugged his shoulders, reaching for the next profile on the pile. 'I suppose so. Ok, Larry Smart. Created a bomb out in the desert. Some boy racer drove over it and set it off. That was ten years ago. He was put inside for life. And I'm guessing he's still there.'
One click of the mouse confirmed this and they moved on, only interrupted by a rookie patrol cop tapping Warrick on the shoulder. 'Are you Warrick?'
Warrick nodded.
'I was told to give this to you, and only you.' The cop explained, looking nervous, hopping from foot to foot. He proffered three evidence bags his way. Warrick took them, recognising Nick's handwriting identifying each one.
'Thanks man, you can get back to the scene. Anything going down?'
The cop shrugged. He looked barely old enough to be out of high school, let alone a cop. 'Last I heard, they were gonna start looking from the inside.'
Warrick turned round, the conversation clearly over, and a long moment later the cop got the message, turned on his heel and scampered out.
'So they're gonna do what Sara wanted.'
'What's that?' Greg asked confused.
'Use her to try and defuse the bomb.'
'Oh.' A long pause as it fully sunk in. 'Oh.'
'Let's get this run through AFIS and for DNA.'
'You still with us, Sara?' Lewis finally asked after five minutes of excruciating silence.
There was a grunt down the telephone. Then Sara took the torch from between her teeth, and answered properly in the affirmative.
'Good- how you doing with the screws?'
'One left.' Sara answered, before putting the torch back and carrying on with the job.
'Huh.' She finally said as all the screws were off.
'What huh?' Lewis asked.
'Well, all the screws are off, but the panels still flush with the wall. Must be…' Sara trailed off.
'Speak to me Sara. I want to know what you see, when you see it.' Lewis reminded her.
'The box screws onto the backing on the wall, and slots in on the sides as well. I'll have to run something round the base to get it off properly.'
'Can you see anything?'
'No.'
'Ok. But gently.'
'No problem.' They heard momentary clunking of metal as Sara searched for something flat to slide between the panel and the base. They heard the scraping of metal against plastic, all having to deal with just sitting and listening rather than being actively involved. 'Okay…ah shit!' Sara exclaimed, accompanied by a thump as something hit the floor hard.
Everyone in the van suddenly had their hearts in their mouths.