Disclaimer: Not my characters, but they are so wonderful to play with.
Spoiler: No Humans Involved
Some of the feedback I have gotten indicates that beside the extreme nature of the story, people still find our CSI's are staying within character to a large degree. That is tremendous feedback. I got home late tonight and missed CSI. Did I miss any good Sara/Grissom moments?
Sheila
Chapter 8
Viktor was a big man with unruly hair that fell in his eyes. Under the hair was a red, meaty face. He wore a long, black leather jacket even though the temperature was probably in the 80's. He swaggered about the room as if he was in his own house. Two large men had followed him in the house, and now they stood against the wall, shades still secured on their faces. The room echoed with his large voice, laughing at strung out addicts sunk into chairs, and making crude remarks in his broken English.
When he saw her, he stopped. She sat low in the broken couch, and struggled to sit up as he loomed above her.
"Pretty girl!" He announced. "Who is she?" He turned to others in the room.
"I'm Sara." she said. Viktor ignored her.
Sammy stepped up. "I found her. She wanted to meet you."
"Really!" He whirled around to stare at her. "Just meeting her this week for the first time, huh? And she wants old Viktor, does she?"
Sammy nodded cautiously.
"Where?" He continued to stare at her. Sara struggled to keep her composure.
"Found her at the Oasis."
Viktor turned around to glare at Sammy. "Oasis is hot, Sammy. You too stupid to know that? Police look for me there. And now, all of a sudden, a new, strange girl comes, and you think to bring her right to Viktor."
"Well, it's wasn't like that. I just found out that she wanted to meet you today."
"You are idiot man. You know that?"
I'm not…I just wanted a new connection." Sara said. Viktor was still looking at Sammy. Without turning his head, he put up a hand to silence her.
"This is not over, Sammy. We will talk, you and I."
"Listen, if this is not comfortable for you, I can go. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." Sara pushed herself up.
Lightening fast, he pushed her hard, and she fell back onto the couch. "Don't move, pretty, police girl."
"I'm not---"
"Shut up!" He pointed a large finger at her face.
She leaned her face away from his hand.
"So you want to know Viktor, huh?" His ugly, broad mouth broke into a smile revealing a nightmare of bad teeth within. "This can be arranged, I think. You want some blow?"
"No, I am just fine." She struggled to keep her voice even.
"No, baby. You are tense. This is not good." He turned to Sammy and underhanded a small packet of powder across the room at him. "Relax her, Sammy, okay?"
Sammy held the powder, his eyes never leaving Viktor, and pulled his works out of his jacket. He gestured at Blaine, but the tall, blonde man shook his head slowly. Viktor rolled his eyes, and motioned at one of his large men. The man nodded once and stepped forward. With shaky hands, Sammy filled the syringe.
Sara's eyes filled with tears, but she held herself in check. She looked around the room looking for an option. The hallway to the back bedroom, and she prepared to catapult herself off the couch and down the hall. She was up in an instant, but ran right into the arms of Viktor. The man laughed heartily, his arms pulled tightly around her middle, and then leaned back, falling onto the couch, Sara landing on top of him.
"I got her, Sammy. Bring it over." Viktor struggled to contain her wild arms.
Sammy brought the filled syringe over and kneeled on the couch beside them.
"Not too much. I want pretty girl to enjoy the fun."
Sara screamed as the needle sank into her skin.
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"You are not going in on this next raid, and that's final." Brass glanced over at Grissom as he made this announcement.
Grissom ignored him, staring through the windshield of the racing SUV.
"You don't seem to understand that we have to secure the property before we look for Sara."
Catherine reached up from the back seat and nudged him. "Listen to him, Gil."
"You guys secure the house, and I'll look for Sara." Grissom spoke quietly.
"You are getting in the way." Brass wheeled the truck to the left, following a small caravan of police cars and other vehicles as the sped down the wet black top of the strip. "You act like you don't have to pay attention to anything but finding her. It's a freakin' drug house, Gil. These are not stable people."
"I don't want her to get hurt in the raid." His quiet voice betrayed an emotional intensity.
Brass let out a deep breath. "Me neither, Gil. Me neither. Just do me a favor, and stay with me at this next house. We'll stay out of the way of the Narcotics squad, and look for her together. Okay?" Brass stole another glance at his old friend.
Grissom closed his eyes and nodded.
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Sara struggled against her confinement. Walls were everywhere. She pushed and kicked at them, but they wouldn't move. Sometimes, she felt them expanding and other times, she felt them jerk and jump. There were voices that moved above her, sometimes sweeping down and rushing around her face. She reached up to pull the their words from the dark, still air, but they were fast and always changing.
She tried to organize her thoughts, but they constantly swam away from her. She wanted to be sharp, smart for Viktor and Grissom. The two of them, one and the same, kind and cruel together in the same package. Their faces were one face, brown eyes and blue, silver hair and greasy, long locks. They were so demanding, so insistent, so cruel. Their voices were constant. She was pretty. And then they wanted to listen, and then they wanted to hurt her badly as had been done before in the dusty attic of her mind.
And so she tried to run, but her feet found no purchase, forcing her to run on her arms. For awhile, they ran alongside, but she yelled at them to leave her alone, and they stopped. On she ran through the darkness and the heat until all was quiet. She stopped and let her breathing settle. As soon as she was calm, she closed her eyes. But then the laughter started again, and she felt the stench of his ugly mouth breathing on her neck. She turned into his face and screamed.
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Drug raids are loud, frighteningly so. Doors are forced and high beam flashlights stabbing at the dark as cops piled through the door. Men shout commands over and over, on top of one another, male aggression at its pinnacle. Doors are kicked with boots, and guns trained on anything that moved. Commands to lay down, hands up, face to the floor are screamed to any and all inhabitants.
There is the sound of breaking glass, and the shouting shifts to the back of the house where the sounds of struggle emerge.
Behind the squad come the CSIs walking into the house, soft moonlight illuminating their forms from the open front door. Their guns are trained as well, but they are silent, working flashlights in the other hand, spotlighting the faces of frightened people hugging the floor.
Grissom closes his eyes and wishes for the next face to be hers, much like he used to wish for his dad to return home so many years ago. But all of the faces are ghosts of a different sort, people who had lost sight of their lives, content to survive solely for the sake of a drug.
Every face is a tortured one, but none of them are Sara's. In his gut, he knows that she isn't here. He believes he would feel her if she was. He leans against the wall to steady himself against the wave of fear that sweeps over him.
The Lieutenant Monroe sweeps by them shouting commands into his walkie talkie, following the voices to the back of the house. More struggling, and then a handcuffed man is pushed down the hallway toward them. He keeps his face lowered as he enters their space, but it doesn't help him. Warrick moves in, and pulls his face up. He drags him by the nape of his neck over to Grissom and Brass.
"This is Sammy," he announces to all who are gathered.
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Sammy sat on the bed uncomfortably, his hands bound behind him. Around him was a collection of people he didn't know, save the tall, black man. They stared at him with hard faces. He could tell they weren't cops, and this left him confused. "I don't know anything." He said for the third time.
"New rule, Sammy. You say something like that again, and I get to accidentally kick you in the privates." Brass paced in front of him like an angry bulldog.
"I can't help you."
"Right. I don't have the patience for this, and Sara doesn't have the time." Brass turned to survey his colleagues. 'Rick, I know you and Sammy are old friends. Got any ideas?"
"Yeah. Give Sammy and I a couple of minutes alone. I think together, he and I can scare up some information on Sara." Warrick stood stoic, his arms folded across his chest. Catherine, standing next to him, gave him a startled look.
Brass raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure? There could be consequences."
"Fuck the consequences, Jim." Warrick's eyes were trained on Sammy who attempted to lean away from him.
Grissom had been standing silently through this exchange. He closed his eyes once he heard Warrick's proposal and let out a sigh. Then he walked over to Greg who stood in the corner, eyes wide. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he gestured with his head. Quietly, he exited the room, the young man trailing after him.
"Alright, 'Rick, I'm going to give you a few minutes. I will be right outside the door in case you need anything." He patted him on the back.
"Wait!" Sammy called to him, but Brass didn't stop or even turn his head to acknowledge the junkie.
Catherine slipped her hand into Warrick's and squeezed hard. She nodded at him, and then let her hand slip away. He turned to say something to her, but she was already out the door.
The door closed, but Warrick could still sense that he was not alone with Sammy. Nick stood behind him, leaning against the wall.
Warrick let out a deep sigh and turned to his friend. "Listen Nicky, don't try to talk me out of anything. You and I both know that Sara doesn't have the time."
Nick narrowed his eyes. "Hey man, I'm just here to hold him down for you."
Warrick let a smile grow. "Thanks, buddy."
"Guys, come on. You don't understand. A guy like Viktor would kill me as soon as look at me. It's suicide if I talk." Sammy begin to whine.
Warrick shook his head. "This is the crap we don't have time for, Sammy. You're not giving us any choice but to show you that we are every bit as unpleasant as Viktor is."
He and Nick closed in on Sammy.
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Brass winced every time he heard a moan or a shout. He leaned against the door so he could glean other noises as well. The snatches of conversation he heard told him that Sammy was becoming a great deal more talkative than he had been earlier.
"What the hell's going on here?"
Startled, Brass looked up to find Detective Monroe looking down at him.
Brass shrugged. "Just a little interrogation is all."
"You telling me that your crime scene investigators, the lab guys, are in there roughing up a perp."
"My CSI's are very versatile, well-rounded individuals, Bob."
"Brass, I swear to God, if you make me look bad, I am going to come down on you like a pile of bricks."
Jim had his hands out trying to calm his colleague. "Bob, come on now. Don't be such a girl. We're just stimulating him. Nothing serious."
"You think the Russian's got her?"
"Yup. And he's a bastard out of hell, Bob. Just think of that little girl you guys found in the closet a week ago."
A young deputy appeared down the hall with a confused look on his face. He seemed to be straining to hear sounds coming out of the wall next to him. Lieutenant Monroe spied him. "Hey you! Get the hell away from that wall. Go help Watkins get our junkies processed or something. Go! Now!" The startled deputy ran from the hall. Monroe folded his arms and leaned against the door next to Brass.
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Grissom stood on the highway facing west. Behind him the sun was beginning to rise. Tire treads led him to this spot. In the distance, all he could see was desert: rolling hills and brush. Nothing moved, and he wondered how he could possibly find her in the vastness of it all.
Someone coughed behind him, and he turned. Greg stood there with a large state map. "If he was going back to Vegas, he would have wanted to go east.
Grissom nodded. "She could be anywhere out there. Out of county. Out of state. We probably need to pull in the feds. I don't even know where we start." He returned his gaze to the west; light softly rising up with the dawn.
His flat tone startled Greg. He stood behind Grissom silently for a moment studying the map. Then something caught his eye.
"Hey Griss. Wait a minute. Look here. This county road intersects with interstate 95 going south. Do you see?"
Greg spread the map out in front of Grissom. "Interstate 95 goes straight into the Northwest part of Vegas. Do you remember what Nick said? I don't have his map here, but I remember him saying that there were a whole of collection of known drug addresses around Severence lane right off the highway."
Grissom pulled off his shades. "It makes sense he wouldn't want to stay on the highway too long."
"Exactly." Greg nodded. "Why don't I get those addresses?" He ran off without waiting for a response.
Grissom looked around and gestured at a deputy standing nearby. The deputy tipped his hat and ambled over.
"Officer, I need a couple of squads right away."
Deputy shook his head. "Sorry, Sir. I only take orders from the lieutenant."
Grissom looked around wildly for some support. From the house, Catherine was jogging in his direction.
"Catherine!" He called. "We need to get back to Vegas; Northwest quadrant…ah, the Severence lane area right off of 95."
She reached him, a smile playing lightly on her face. "How do I never get to surprise you with anything?"
"What?" Grissom tensed.
"Viktor has an old girlfriend lives right off interstate 95 near Severence. Sammy gave it up."
"God help me, Catherine. That's where she is." He gestured at the officer. "And the deputy here won't give me any squads."
Catherine looked over at the young man and pointed a finger. "Listen Scooter. You better get on the horn right now. Your lieutenant's going to wonder why the hell you're standing around with your finger up your nose while someone, one of our own I might add, has been kidnapped."
The deputy jumped and pulled his radio receiver off his shoulder. He started making noises, while running back to the house. Grissom grabbed Catherine's arm and trotted after him.
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Nick was bringing Sammy out the front door when Grissom and Catherine got there. They went over to Warrick who was standing alone in the front yard.
"You okay?" Grissom put on a hand on his arm.
Warrick chuckled. "Yeah. Don't worry. Sammy has a low pain threshold. He capitulated almost immediately. Mostly, we made a lot of noise threatening him and slamming things against the wall. We're big friends now. Sammy wants us to come and visit him in the klink. He thinks we are now responsible to keep him alive."
When Sammy and Nick walked past Warrick, Sammy stopped and waved. Warrick rolled his eyes and looked away. Snippets of Sammy's conversation with Nick floated back as they passed.
"So I was a gentleman the whole time with your friend. Right? I mean, I think she kind of wanted to you know, but I said to myself, 'no, Sammy, you really don't know this girl', right? "Cause there's diseases everywhere, you know. And then---"
"Give me a frickin' break, Sammy. Okay? Get in the car." Nicky shoved him in the open door of the squad, forgetting to lower his head as he did this. A shrill 'Ouch!' alerted him to his, but the grin on Nick's face conveyed the truth about his forgetfulness.
Nick walked back toward his friends with Sammy leaning his head out the window, continuing the conversation with his retreating back. "I'm ready." he said when he reached them.
Warrick gestured with his head. "Brass is in the truck. He and Monroe are organizing this thing. Sammy didn't have an exact address for the girlfriend so we're going to have to improvise."
Nick nodded, then he reached over and patted Grissom on the shoulder. "We're going to get this done, Boss. It's going to be okay. You hear?"
Grissom acknowledged him with a tight grin, but couldn't meet his eyes. Unable to respond, he headed off in search of Brass. Catherine shook her head slowly at her friends, her eyes soft and red, and took off after him.
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TBC