Implied Connections
Chapter 20 – Bless You
By: Braidless Baka
Disclaimer: Does anyone believe I won my case for ownership of Greg? No? Thought not… so keep reading and reviewing ^_~
A/N: Just so everyone's clear, the conservation program at Tonopah is completely fake ^_^;; Just in case anyone got confused. Tonopah, however, is a real place ^_^;;
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Greg was starting to feel distinctly like a light switch. On and off, on and off, then on and back off again. It wasn't a happy feeling, but then again 'happy' wasn't a word he was too familiar with ever since Sara had become a suspect.
His head was still fuzzy, but by now he knew that it was something that would wear off if he gave it long enough. He'd also figured out that his best chance at keeping his head clear was to pretend to be unconscious. Every time she had even a whiff of a thought he had that might be coherent, she made him breathe in that… stuff.
The worst part of it all, Greg reflected bitterly, was that he had no idea what was going on. In fact, even though he was a central participant, he probably knew less about where he was and what was happening to him than anyone else. Being a nosy person by nature, this annoyed him a great deal.
Then he figured he might be about to find out. He could feel the car slowing, not rumbling underneath him so desperately. They were turning… right he thought. Then they drove on for a while, but it wasn't asphalt anymore. And they weren't driving quite so fast. That either meant they were off-road, or on a quiet road. Either one was preferable in Greg's view; it meant they weren't travelling away from Vegas as fast as they had been. The car then pulled up, and the engine was turned off. The driver's door opened, and someone got out of the car, the whole machine bouncing as her weight transferred to the floor underfoot.
When the trunk popped, Greg was ready. Limp as a noodle with his eyes closed, he almost looked as pathetic as he had when she'd closed the lid of the trunk an hour or so ago.
But somehow she knew.
The sound of a gun cocking was what brought Greg to open his eyes, fearfully looking down the barrel of a handgun. Not as big as the one they'd been arguing about last time he'd been in the lab, but big enough to cause a dent. Hell, any gun was big enough to cause a dent…
"Just so you know Greg," she said, her voice calm. She was pulling no punches. "I don't have a reason to pull this trigger, unless you give me one. I have absolutely nothing to lose by killing you now and leaving you to die here. Do you understand me?"
Dumbly, Greg nodded. Now was not a time to be defiant and heroic.
"So, what you're going to do for me, is play nice when I help you out of the trunk, and you're going to come with me. You're going to let me knock you out again. Then I'll leave you." She paused, before reiterating. "That's all I'm going to do. Then it's up to your friends to do their stuff."
Again, this time more slowly, Greg nodded. What was in those words? He could sense something deeper, something a little more profound. But he didn't know enough to pinpoint it. It was like she already knew how this would end. Any more than that Greg was unwilling, and unable, to guess.
Just as she said, Rachel helped him out of the trunk, first unbinding his ankles, and allowing him a moment to stretch out his aching knees before pushing him forward, the threat of the gun always present. Gritting his teeth as his arm – which had numbed up and settled during the 'ride' in the trunk – flared up again. He looked at his surroundings. Anything to keep his mind off the present. Let's see, there were trees, he realised, his gaze flitting around the scenery. They were in some kind of wood. Desperately, he tried to rack his geographically retarded brain for forests near Vegas. But, because he had no idea of how long they'd been driving, accompanied by the fact that the only thing he could find in Vegas was his lab and his CD player, he drew a complete and utter blank.
"Am I going to die here?"
The words were sudden, and unbidden. But had been said all the same. They suddenly revealed how scared he was, and how little coherence he really had. Those words betrayed fear.
Rachel's response was not one of surprise or anger. Not even of irritation as she said quietly, "Maybe."
~~~
"Tonopah!"
Catherine, who'd been passing the room Warrick was in, paused and looked in. "Bless you."
"No, Tonopah!"
Catherine shook her head, puzzled, before entering the room to look at the computer Warrick was using. "Aren't you supposed to be tracing seeds?"
"Yeah, and I've found them. Toiyabe National Forest. Tonopah District."
"Explanation?"
Warrick paused, before nodding and indication the screen, beckoning Catherine closer. "Okay, what I've got here is a map of the Vegas area. This," he indicated a red dot in the centre, "is the Hodgeson residence. Where we found those seeds."
Catherine nodded. "So, you made a two day radius?"
"Exactly. Given the top speed of the car she was driving," Warrick clicked the mouse, causing the display to produce a large red circle. "I figure this is the furthest she could've possibly travelled in two days."
"Have you taken out any stops?"
Warrick shook his head. "Nope. What if she didn't take any? Or maybe there were two drivers."
"Okay, so you've got the radius."
"Yeah. Then I did a search for our mystery plant. Seems, as part of a conservation project a year ago, the Tonopah district of Toiyabe planted some seedlings. There's a lot of them out of state, but if we're staying in Nevada, this is the only place you'll find them. And guess what?"
Catherine nodded, her expression one of tired triumph. "It's slap bang in our radius."
He nodded, turning away from the screen to regard the blonde. "Exactly." Then, he continued. "Where's Grissom?"
"He's out with the search party, and he's taken Sara and Nick with him."
"Did they turn up anything in the parking lot?"
Catherine shook her head ruefully. "Not a thing."
Warrick nodded, putting the pieces together in his head, before standing. "Call Grissom. We know where we're looking now."
Catherine pulled out her cell at his instruction, saying as she dialled the number, "You mean, we 'sort of' know where we're looking."
"Hopefully it'll be close enough."
"You can say that again," she said, raising the phone to her ear. "Hey, Grissom. We've got a break."