Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, but I own the original characters depicted herein. --LOL...Watching CSI has affected my language...I use more lofty words to describe things nowadays...I'm hopless. LOL.

Pairing: Sandle

Rating: T+


2:52 am.

"Well, this is what I've gotten from the cell phone. Here," Archie said, typing busily, "is the jpeg file sent from your suspect's phone to the phone he sent Greg." He swiveled around in his chair to face the small group of FBI agents and CSIs gathered to observe what he had been working on. "I'm going to simplify my explanation, for time's sake," he said, turning back around to the computer and typing away.

"Basically, a cellular phone is a small radio transmitter," Archie explained, "Cell service areas are divided into areas, called, what else, cells. When a call is made, the signal travels from cell to cell, until a connection is made with the line they're calling. Now, usually a call, text message, or photo transmission can be traced back from cell area to cell area, using the phone's Electronic Serial Number. But in this case, the ESN was scrambled by a 16 bit encryption on the cell phone. The encryption encodes the data, rendering it untraceable by the phone company's computer systems."

Archie paused for a moment, savoring the pièce de résistance.

"But…" Grissom prompted.

"But," Archie continued triumphantly, "using a decryption program, I was able to retrace the path the transmission took. We're lucky this guy was an amateur, and didn't use a random revolving encryption on the phone. I was able to narrow the call area to here," he pulled up a grid map and indicated an area. "The photo transmission originated somewhere in Henderson, between Boulder Highway, Eastern Avenue, and I-215, about 6 miles from downtown Vegas. Wish I could narrow it further for you, but that's the best I've got."

"That's a help, nonetheless, Archie," Grissom said. "How are the trace samples coming along, Greg?"

"The results should be printing out any minute now, Grissom. I'm going to go check on them," Greg replied.

"I'll come with you." Grissom began to follow Greg, but he was stopped by Agent Brady.

"Mr. Grissom, I'm going to need you for about an hour or so." He pulled Grissom into the hallway. "I've got a makeup artist. She just got here, and she's going to need to work on you. Meanwhile, I've got a connection over at KVBC. Once you are officially dead, I'll give them a call and your murder will be the top story on the morning news."

"Well, I guess we'd better get started making me look dead, then," Grissom said.


3:08 am.

Greg quickly looked over the trace reports. He tossed most of them aside, but one caught his interest. He scrutinized the report carefully, then went to the computer and began typing away.

"Whatcha got, Greg? Anything significant show up in the trace reports?" Nick asked, walking into the lab.

"I think I found something. A carpet fiber attached to the evidence tape on the gun bag."

"Can you find out where it came from?" Nick asked.

"Well, it's industrial carpeting, but the color and textile strength is pretty common. I'm running a search on it now to identify the specific brand and type. Then I'm going to compile a list including all businesses where it was installed, cross referencing with the other trace elements I collected," Greg said, willing the computer's database search to move faster.

"What else did you find that was of relevance to the case?" Nick asked.

"Well, I picked up a strong carpet cleaning solution from the carpet fiber. Commonly used for cleaning carpets in hotels." Greg perused the reports. "Not much else."


3:38 am.

Ring.

Ring.

Greg looked at his pager. "A/V STAT," the blinking screen readout said. He hurried down the hall, barreling into the Audio/Visual lab. "What is it?" he asked Archie.

Then he heard it. His eyes widened. There was that familiar pang of fear.

Ring.

Agent Brady rushed through the door. He quickly grabbed a pair of headphones as Archie connected the cell phone to the computer, allowing him to eavesdrop on the call. Brady gestured to Greg to answer the call.

"Hello?" Greg answered the phone cautiously.

"Sanders. So tell me, has the deed been done?"

Greg looked at Agent Brady, who shook his head, indicating that Greg should tell the man no. "I…I'm still trying to work up the nerve. I've never shot at anyone before, much less tried to kill them."

"Well, if you want to see Sara alive again, you'll do more than try. The clock is ticking, Sanders, and your opportunity is slipping away."

"Let me talk to Sara…please? I want to know that she's ok. I need to speak to her," Greg said desperately. There was silence on the line for a few moments, and Greg feared that Slater would hang up. But when he heard shuffling on the other end, his heart gave a leap of hope, and when he heard her voice, the relief was almost too great.

"Greg?" she whispered.

"Sara. Oh my God." Greg shut his eyes, and tears burned at his lids. "Are you ok? Has he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Greg. Listen to me. You can't do what he's asking you to do. You can't kill Grissom--wait…no!" Her voice escalated into a scream and Greg's heart dropped.

"Sara! What's going on?"

"No! Let me go-" her voice was suddenly muffled.

Slater came back on the line. "You've talked to her long enough. She's fine…for now. I'm counting on you to finish the job, Sanders. And so is she. I want Grissom dead. Like I said before, Sanders, the clock is ticking."

The line went dead. Archie looked up, removing the headphones. "We lost the signal. He hung up."

Brady sighed. "Well, at least we know he's still on task and that she's still alive. We still have time to pull this off if we can find him. The minute he finds out that you've killed Grissom, he may try to get rid of her. We've got no time to waste, because we can't take that chance."


4:20 am.

Beep, beep.

The list was done. Greg snatched the sheet as it rolled out of the lab's printer.

"What have we got?" asked Nick.

"Well, the carpet is a Templeton Mills industrial model. Color is T-700 Mohave/Desert Sand. It looks like this specific carpet color was only installed in two locations in this area. The first is Caesar's Entertainment."

"Yeah, that's a hotel and casino, but it's on the Strip. Outside the call location that Archie gave us," Nick pointed out, "so that's out."

"Oh my God," Greg breathed, "we have our location. I know where she is."

"Well, where?" Nick asked excitedly.

"Holiday Inn Express, Henderson, Nevada. It's the only place that this carpeting was installed inside the call area."

"Good job, G. Let's get going then," Nick said.


4:25 am.

"All right, let's move out!" Brady ordered to his team. "Agent Patrick, you'll stay behind and handle the media coverage. You need to make sure that the report is as realistic as possible." As he turned to leave, Greg cornered the agent.

"I'm coming with you," Greg said adamantly.

"What? No, you're not. You're not an FBI agent," Brady returned, just as adamantly.

"Look, I'm the one who broke this case for you. I've taken weapons handling training and I have my certification, if you're worried that I can't take care of myself. I can. And you're not leaving here without me." Greg said, the determination in his voice evident. He was not going to be left behind. Of that, he was sure.

"Or me," Nick appeared at Greg's side, backing him up. "I'm coming too. Look, Mark, we don't have any time to waste. We can argue about this later."

Brady, conflicted, paused for a moment before finally giving in. "Ok, but you're going to let me and my agents handle this, ok? I want you both to stay out of the way."

"You got it," Nick agreed, "Now let's get outta here and catch that son of a bitch before he hurts Sara."


4:34 am.

The FBI makeup artist applied the finishing touches to the prosthetic bullet hole in Grissom's forehead, carefully applying the fake blood.

"I bet that this line of work is interesting, isn't it? This is probably not the strangest case you've ever worked." Grissom said to her, gesturing at his forehead.

She laughed. "Some of the cases I've helped on make this one look like an everyday, normal thing. I'd elaborate, but…" she handed him a small mirror, "I'd have to kill you." She chuckled at the old cliché.

He examined his forehead in the mirror. "It almost makes me believe it. Now let's just hope that someone else does, too."


4:41 am.

"Have you seen this man? He's an escaped felon, and we have reason to believe that he is a guest in your hotel. Most likely registered under an alias." Agent Brady slid Slater's mug shot across the front desk.

The hotel desk clerk looked at the photo, and shook her head. "I'm sorry. Do you have any idea what time he may have checked in?"

"It would have been between 9pm and 12am," Greg said.

"What makes you think he's a guest at this hotel?" the clerk asked.

"Well, I found a carpet fiber that is unique to this hotel in Henderson," Greg answered.

"What color was it?" she asked.

"Tan with a green diamond overlay pattern," Greg replied. "Why?"

"Well, we installed a different color carpet on each of our floors. The carpet color you described is only in the rooms on our fourth floor," she explained.

"Good. That will narrow our search," Brady said. "Ma'am," he said to the clerk, "I know we don't have a warrant yet, but is there any way we can look through your computer system and find out who may have checked into a room on the fourth floor in our time frame?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. If you had a warrant…"

"Now," Brady said, raising his hand against her objection, "this man is an escaped felon, and he's holding a CSI hostage. He's planning to kill her. Now, unless you'd like me to knock on every single door and wake up all of your guests on the fourth floor at this early hour, you'll give us access to your systems. I'm trying to prevent a murder here. If we fail, do you really want all of that bad publicity? Do you think anyone would want to stay here, knowing that a girl was murdered here?"

She looked around nervously, then nodded. "Ok. Go ahead. Just don't disturb any more of our guests than you have to. Please. I could lose my job over this," she implored.

No one noticed that Greg had disappeared.

TBC


Lalenna: I hope this update makes your day a little brighter! Even though it is a little bit cliffy.

CSIsupergirl2011: Thank you! I'm glad you are enjoying it. And no...I could never kill Greg...don't tell!

luminosoestrella: I didn't use to be much of a Nicky fan, but he's growing on me. I'm pretty fond of him...he's a sweetie.

CSIwannabe: Yes...I had fun figuring out how Grissom was going to die...Muahaha!

sciencenerd: Thank you...thank you very much...I hope this chapter is as enjoyable as the rest has been for you!

Unlikely-to-bear-it: Whipped cream and ice cream? Add hot fudge and I'll die of happiness!

Surfredia: I appreciate your help with the plot bunny! As you can see by the speed of my update, your method is spot-on! LOL.

Jenn Sidle: Thank you, thank you, and thank you! You are way too sweet!

taz3: Yes...I agree...Greg angst makes for good fanfics.