Onto Chapter 2. I hope things make a little more sense. It won't clear everything up, though XD

A/N: I don't have a beta at the moment. If anyone is willing or can recommend a place to find betas, I'd be very grateful. I find it impossible to spot the mistakes in my work.

Carpe Diem

By Halina Renata

Chapter 2: Ab initio

Four days ago

"Is there a reason you brought the night shift in on this case at noon?" Grissom asked as he closed the door of the SUV and was followed by a sleepy looking Sara and yawning Greg. It had just gone midday and the beginning of October still brought with it extreme heat. On any normal day, the night shift would still just about be sleeping after their night's work but the call from Brass had ordered them to come to a certain address as soon as possible.

"This is going to be one of those high profile cases of the summer," Brass remarked, evidently not pleased about it, as he lead them up to an expensive looking house. "Like I needed the extra pressure. The sheriff told me personally he wants everybody on it. Catherine and Warrick are already here. So this is the house. Ever heard of Sam de Marinez?"

"The man who made his entire fortune on gambling?" Sara asked.

"And...racketeering. Him?" Greg interjected, covering up another yawn with the back of his hand. "They say over half his fortune is dirty money. I wasn't even aware they had mobs and gangs in Vegas until I heard of this guy."

Brass rolled his eyes at the direction change of conversation. "Well, whatever way he got his money, it's all about to become inheritance. He was murdered this morning. Gardener, Manuel Sanchez, came in the side gate and found him, his wife and the mother-in-law—along with several body guards, naturally—dead in the back garden by the pool." Pushing past the yellow tape he lead them to the wide and impressive looking back garden. It included a large area of green space, a pool and a terrace with the usual garden furniture.

"Wow," Greg whistled as he surveyed the garden in admiration. "One day this is going to be my house."

"Oh, really?" Sara asked with a raised eyebrow and smirk at him as she passed. "With what salary?"

Greg smiled back at her, shifting the camera into his hands. "I'm still young. I'm working on it." Sara rolled her eyes as they finally reached Catherine, Warrick and David by the man's body, which was on the floor. Further on the body of a young dark haired woman lay on the terrace and the older mother in law remained in her seat, never having the chance to get up and run. Two body guards stood by the doors, obviously having been flung back against the wall when shot judging by the splatter on the white wash wall behind them.

"Death was approximately an hour and a half ago," David informed as he stood up. "Each body has at least two or three bullet holes each, probably from an automatic rifle. There's nothing on the bodies."

"Looks like they were just having breakfast," Warrick remarked looking at the table set out with half eaten food. Glasses of oranges juices remained half full and half eaten toasts lay cold on the plates.

Brass sighed and looked at his watch, feeling slightly despondent at the amount of work that was going to take place. "That's some wake up call. Their little boy, Alex, is still unaccounted for but I'm checking out the neighbours and friends. There's going to be more officers along the way sooner. Every reporter in Vegas will turn up here within the next half an hour for this sensation story."

"You sound thrilled."

Brass narrowed his eyes slightly at Greg. "I hate scavengers. You'll grow to as well. By the way, you don't say a word, Sanders. I don't even want to hear a 'no comment' from you."

"Has the inside been cleared yet?" Grissom interrupted, standing up.

"Uh, they're doing it now. Should only take a few minutes."

"All right. Catherine and I will take the bodies. Warrick, you do the perimeter. Sara and Greg, you'll take the inside." Grissom caught Catherine's expression as they all moved off and sighed. It was a raised eyebrow with a playful sardonic expression on her face and Grissom immediately put up his hands in defeat. "Please don't argue with me about rank and file now. I'm very tired when I've been pulled out of bed after only five hours sleep, which, contrary to popular belief, does alter my mood."

"It's all right," Catherine answered as she bent down by one of the bodies, the wife. She had been shot through the back, evidently running towards the house to save her life. Smiling sadly at the beautiful brunette, Catherine hoisted the camera and took some photos of her from all angles. "I—err—hear you've scheduled a meeting with Ecklie to discuss the shift changes."

"I have," Grissom answered, not denying his wish for his original team back. He looked over at her from where he was examining Sam de Marinez. The situation was complicated he had to admit. At the end of the day, it was unlikely that he and Catherine would ever work on the same shifts again, given her want to be supervisor. It had only been in the last week since Nick's ordeal that he'd truly felt the loss of his original team and made steps whilst Ecklie's weakness existed, to get them back. "I'm sorry. I should have consulted you sooner."

"No, I understand. Ecklie's being very considerate lately. I think he's kissing the ass of both of us lately. Nice to know it takes the near death of one of the CSIs to realize the department isn't all about resource allocation and money."

Grissom nodded grimly. "When's Nick scheduled to come back to work?"

"In about a week. He was given as much time as he needed. Although, considering that this meeting with Ecklie will take place beforehand, he'll probably come back to your shift."

Grissom frowned and looked up in momentary confusion. His preoccupation on the body was abandoned as he tried to decipher what Catherine was saying. "This his own wish?"

Catherine laughed as she stood up holding the camera in her hand continuing her work. "Yep. Nicky wasn't happy on my shift. He looked up and respected you, Grissom, and you're the one he wanted to make proud, not me. He preferred it when the shifts were back together...He verbally said so. If asked to make his decision, I'm 100 certain he'll choose to go back to you."

Grissom looked down at the ground going into a thoughtful mode. He remembered watching the live feed whilst Nick was down in the box. He remembered Nick recording his goodbye message and lip reading his wish to never disappoint Grissom. For a long time Grissom had tried to refute the idea in Nick's head that he needed Grissom's appreciation but to think independently, like Warrick had learnt to do. And suddenly he thought that maybe if he had given Nick some recognition, even if it was just a little bit, he would be.

"I'm sorry this has become so complicated for us."

Catherine shrugged and kneeled by him. "So am I. We can't always get what we want and be happy. But whatever happens you'll come out fine. You'll probably get Nick and keep Sara and Greg. And Greg seems to be doing well too lately."

Grissom nodded slowly. "Yes, he is."

Catherine raised an eyebrow at him. "He had a good teacher." There was another pause as Grissom once again considered their positions and mess the shifts and inter departmental relationships had become. "Don't go all solemn and pensive on me now. We have a high profile case to solve and at the moment we're still all together. Brass is going to get itchy if we don't get this done fast and I don't fancy the sheriff breathing down my neck either. What are you thinking?"

"Hired hit?" Grissom suggested. "Looks like someone just burst in and started shooting sporadically. This whole wall is riddled with bullet holes from a repeating rifle. They just got everyone in one go."

Catherine sighed. "And I bet a man like Sam de Marinez had quite a few enemies."

Suddenly, Grissom stood up. "Didn't Brass say they had a child?"

"Yes, a son, whereabouts unknown at the moment. Are you thinking that they wanted something from de Marinez? Kidnapped his son? Then why go to the bother of making such a hit and shooting them."

"Maybe they didn't get what they want. Whatever that may be."

Grissom frowned and surveyed the scene again. A sixth sense welled up inside him telling him something about the scene didn't feel right. From an outward perspective it seemed naturally evident that an enemy of a man like Sam de Marinez, who spent a lot of his time in dirty laundering, would make a hit. The shell casings and bullet holes were everywhere. Grissom could already imagine the footprints from where they had entered through the side gate and across the lawn to the terrace to shoot them. It seemed like it would appear a clean case. "Why does something feel wrong about this?"

Sara watched Greg's face turn into one of awe and admiration as they stepped inside the house next. After waiting for a few moments, they presumed the scene as being safe to process and stepped inside cautiously. "You want a house like this as well then to go with the pool?" she asked as she walked past him into the first room.

"Well, hey, I can dream," he answered, spreading his hands wide and putting his kit down. "When it happens, you're welcome to come to a pool party. God, look at this place! It's like…90 air."

"Your house a little crowded?"

"Let's say in this heat, my air conditioning energy bills can get rather high." He walked into the room Sara was in and his awed expression turned into one of surprise. Surveying the room, he saw what appeared to be a mini chaos. Furniture upturned and papers scattered everywhere, Greg though it reminded him of his apartment sometimes. "Wow. Is de Marinez usually this messy or were the gunmen looking for something in particular." Lifting up his camera in one hand, he snapped a quick picture view of the room.

"I'll-uh-take door number one."

Greg smiled as he sat down next to Sara as they started sorting their way through the papers in the living room. The drawers were open and papers will spilled out everywhere, including several books and portfolios. Many of them seemed to be what every family had: bills, bank statements etc. Sighing, Greg picked up one of the many scattered sheets of paper, reading through it briefly before returning it to the ground. "This is going to take a while. I don't suppose your brought any coffee?"

Sara would never admit how much she enjoyed working with Greg but every so often the signs would slip out obvious to her at least. She would smile at Greg's jokes, his analogies and his suggestions because although he still had the same sense of humour she once deemed as immature, it was being applied sensibly now. And sometimes she found it refreshing from the gruelling job they had to do. At the same time there was also a sense of pride that Greg had proved himself in the field and was getting continually better yet maybe maturity was the price Greg had to pay.

"Man, this guy kept track of every single transaction he made. We're not even supposed to see this. Isn't it illegal in Nevada?"

Sara looked over at the portfolio Greg was holding. "Yeah. Very expensive alcohol on the black market. Probably why he made it into so much money if he was into this and likely many other forbidden substances. I half expect receipts for prostitution to appear." She smiled wryly. "Shame he's dead otherwise he'd have a reason to bring him in."

Greg looked further around the room and stood up. He heard the sounds of police obviously upstairs probably checking out the rest of the house. There was a sense of unease bristling through the house. Although it was practically midday and the house was modern it gave off a negative vibe he now felt when he investigated dead hookers in motel rooms now. Each crime scene, even if it was in a pleasant neighbourhood or setting, would be tainted forever. Putting the portfolio on the table, he straightened up. "A house this big and a man as important as de Marinez...you'd think he'd have a security system somewhere in here."

"Did you see a signs of one?"

"I saw a camera when we walked through the side gate. By the garage." Sara smiled, another sense of that pride seeping through at him again. "And I suppose I should go and look for it. I'm gonna go upstairs. Maybe he has a study or an office around here where he keeps track of all this stuff."

Sara nodded, back to intently studying the pieces of papers in front of her, assessing their relevance. "Okay, be careful."

Taking his kit, Greg started up the stairs and pushed the door at the top which lead him to standing on the top floor of the house. Briefly looking around, he found it strangely odd that there was not a single uniformed officer in sight. It gave an eerie quiet feeling to it all despite the fact he could hear muffled sounds of Catherine's voice outside and Sara occasionally shuffling papers downstairs. Flashing lights signalled the presence of cops outside. Despite this, he felt almost unprotected. Shrugging off his apprehension and shaking his head as this sudden paranoia, he walked to each door along the corridor and checked inside if he could see any sign of a security system or anything which would indicate what the gunmen had murdered the de Marinez family for.

That was a great start, he thought to himself as he finished the first four doors. He had found a camera but with no idea where it linked to. He hoped there was no external monitor he would have to search and that it was just carefully hidden somewhere in the house. Turning the corner of the corridor with new hope, he immediately frowned as he spotted something up ahead rather unusual. It looked like a foot and for a moment Greg wondered whether there truly was another body on the floor. But if that was the case then the officer who had searched the house for clearing would have spotted it immediately.

Pausing, he looked around before continuing. Greg's worst suspicions were confirmed and froze as he reached it seeing that around the corner, it was indeed a body. However, what was worse was that it was the body of a cop one which had gone into the house before he and Sara had been assigned to. Right now, he lay face down with a bullet lodged somewhere in his spine and the blood carefully pooling on the white linoleum floor. A smear indicated that the body had been dragged. Greg swallowed carefully and took a step back from him. If that was the case and the cop had been killed after they arrived then that meant...

"Sar..." he started to say but found he couldn't get the words out. He turned around to call her again when he first heard a click and then the sight of a metal barrel pointing directly at his forehead. Breath hitching his throat and his eyes unable to deter away from the end of the gun, Greg at that moment understood what it meant when the blood ran cold in the veins. The air was sucked from his body and he remained motionless, not even daring to blink.

"Don't even think about moving or yelling or you become like him, understand?" the one holding the gun in front of him whispered and Greg could just about nod. He stared straight ahead at the white wall, not wanting to see the gunmen's face or the body below him.

"There's someone else downstairs," another man whispered further off and Greg's eyes flickered to another man that appeared from his right side towards them. The first man still had a gun trained on him. He felt his situation worsen at the realization that there were two gunmen in the house. "What are we gonna do?" the second one asked.

"No more killing! This is getting too messy and out of hand. There are cops all over the place." His voice sounded rough right beside his ear with a hint of panic and Greg swallowed as the gun wavered briefly in his hand. But Greg sensed that he was the more rational one and the one in control. Turning his gaze back, he looked at the first man holding the gun at him. He was ever so slightly shorter, dark hair, natural tan, maybe of Latin American descent descent.

The second gunman clenched Greg's arm and spun the younger man round to face him. He was met with a grin that was too wide and exhilarated to be deemed safe but remained rock still as the man eyed him up and down. "Well, who is this and how did he get up here?"

"He's probably another one of those cops that are searching the house at the moment." The first gunmen put a hand to his head. "Fuck it. Don't do anything, we can't afford to kill yet another cop."

The second gunmen's smile only seemed to widen, his grip still on Greg's arm. "Don't worry, we're definitely not killing this one."

"Can you just shut up about your wants for the moment? We have bigger things to think about. We have to keep him; he's the only one that can help us get everybody out of here." Looking at Greg pointedly, the first man said in a more controlled and steely voice, "Come on." His feet answered the command and he followed the man slowly along the corridor until he was made to stand against the wall beside the stairs and still facing the gunman. The second one stood on the other side of the stairs. Greg looked at the ceiling, forcing his laboured breaths to come out more evenly. This had to be a nightmare or some strange CSI field training scare Grissom had carried out.

"All right," said the one directly in front of him, too close into Greg's personal space. "You don't have to get shot. Just listen to me. You are going to call that girl here and..."

Greg shook his head, the numbness of his body switching directly into panic and the thought of putting Sara in this kind of danger as well. "No, don't..." he started to say but immediately stopped and gasped when the gun relocked by his ear again and he closed his eyes, fearing death imminently. His body shook from the tension and the fear he was currently experiencing. "Don't shoot, please…"

"Listen," the man repeated again in a harder voice but whispered menacingly. "You are going to call her here and you're going to tell her to get out of here along with everyone else in and around this house. I don't want anyone near it. I want people where I can see them. And if that doesn't happen, we're not gonna hesitate killing you like everyone else." For emphasis, he moved the gun in direct contact with Greg's head so it touched his skin. "Understand?"

Greg nodded quickly and opened his eyes. "Just don't hurt her." Prompted by the man in front of him he stole a deep breath and turned his head to the side. "Sara!" he yelled, wondering if his voice sounded as shaky to her as it did to him right now. And for a few seconds there seemed to remain the calm, beautiful silence.

"Miss, Sidle?" one of the cops said, appearing from the kitchen area. "The downstairs area is clear. Officer Topps is still checking the upstairs but we can give it the all clear."

"Thanks."

Sara had shifted through masses of papers and so far failed to find anything of relevance. And what remained of the search the killers had done did little to help them find what they had been looking for. She quickly assorted what she could find into separate files hoping to go through them and then began dusting the drawers and table tops, hoping the killers had not worn gloves.

Undoubtedly some of them would be from the de Marinez family but Sara figured she might get lucky. Six different prints she collected to send back to the lab and began to put them methodically into her kit.

"Hey."

Sara jumped and looked towards the window. Warrick stood there, smiling slightly from the outside looking in from where he had been working the perimeter of the building. "Don't do that, Warrick. This place is creepy and eerily quiet as it is without people jumping on you." Looking at the ceiling, she presumed she could hear Greg walking around still searching for a security system.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't like this place at all. I've got nothing on my end here. The killers must have come through the back and I just hope there haven't been any sprinklers turned on to make the ground too wet. What have you got?"

Sara sighed. "A very big mess and some fingerprints. They were obviously looking for something. Almost every room on the downstairs is like this."

Warrick peered inside the room and felt as unhopeful as Sara. "With a man like de Marinez it could be anyone looking for anything. Let's hope your prints come up. Where's Greg?"

"Upstairs, looking around."

Warrick nodded, suddenly feeling as though the conversation had run dry. It had been a while since he'd had the opportunity for a proper talk with Sara. Normally, that would make one think there would be plenty to catch up on. However, as Warrick had found out, the rough and sudden shift changes made it impossible to talk to his former colleagues. He had barely spoken to Grissom and during the brief period when trying to find Nick, there was little time for reminiscent conversation. Now it seemed almost impossible to talk.

"How've you been doing, Sara?"

"I'm fine, you?"

"I've been doing good. And Greg?"

Sara shrugged as she finally closed her kit. "You should know. You and Nick are the ones that are constantly checking up on him after strenuous cases it seems. You should know how he's been doing."

Warrick frowned at the unexpected outburst. Quite honestly, it was the last thing he expected from her. "What's that supposed to mean. Is it wrong to check up on a friend every now and again?"

"I'm the one supervising him."

"And he's a CSI One who's learning from everybody. Sara, why are you shooting me down? All I did was check up on him a couple of times. Sometimes, me, him and Nick hung out, tried to forget about cases this whole mucked up situation. You did the same for Nick when he...when we got him out."

Sara paused, and then nodded quietly, not willing to admit defeat. "I'm so sick of all this. How's Nick been doing anyway? I haven't...had the chance to go round recently."

"He's doing good. Think he wants to get back to work. He's probably watching this on TV and screwing he's not here to work on it too," Warrick remarked with a smile.

"I'll bet."

A pause hung in the air again, once again left with nothing to talk about. "I get it, Sara; you're over protective of Greg. And at the same time you've spent this whole year with Grissom and I've barely been able to have a chat with the guy cause we don't even share the same times anymore. The same way I was with Nick that time. This whole thing will get sorted out eventually, you'll see. But at the moment...don't you think it's sad we're biting our heads off?" Warrick sighed sadly. "I better go find some footprints. I'll see you back at the lab."

"Bye," Sara said quietly and looked around the room again. She wanted to kick herself. She didn't know she had been so snippy towards Warrick, after all they had worked together. Worked. Past tense. They didn't work together anymore. Night shift and Day shift were two separate groups of people that had once worked together. And since then, everything had felt awkward between them all.

Sara was about to pick up her case and walk out when something caught her eye. Bending down, she retrieved a crumpled up picture near the table she had been working by. Peeling it open carefully, she studied it for a second. The picture revealed the photograph of a young girl who could not have been more than twenty five years old. A pretty brunette with light caramel skin, smiling at the camera. A long necklace was wrapped around her neck and the dress she wore suited her perfectly.

Sara must have spent five minutes studying the picture. Then someone called her name.

"Sara!" Greg yelled again, waiting for her response. He felt very hot – his fear and rapid breathing had increased his body temperature making him feel very uncomfortable. Biting his lip, he prayed that Sara had gone out of the house already.

"One second, I think I found something."

"No, just...come here now, Sara!" he cried; now certain the desperation was evident.

Her footsteps were heard against the linoleum standing at the foot of the stairs. "What have you done, Greg?" she chided playfully.

"Don't come up! Don't." He took another deep breath, glancing briefly at the narrowed eyes of the gunman in front of him and the one on the other side. The second one to the side was smiling at his menacingly, also holding the gun provocatively in his direction that he grimaced. "Sara, I need you to do something. I need you to get Grissom and everyone and tell them to get off the site of the house straight away."

He could practically imagine Sara frowning in confusion, not going to leave until she had set everything straight. She always had to know the full story when being asked to do something. "Greg, this is a crime scene and we have a crime to solve. We can't just leave." She paused for a second. "Have you found a bomb?"

Greg looked at the ceiling, right now wishing it was a bomb he had found. It was a better alternative to this. "Not quite," he answered quietly, trying to keep his voice steady and hide the fear behind it. "Just do I say this once, please? I know what I'm talking about. The gunmen are here."

"What?"

Slower, he repeated, trying to get the point across without showing how scared he was, "The gunmen are here, Sara."

There was a few seconds of silence. Greg wondered whether she had disappeared to do as she was told or was about to come up herself with a gun. When her voice returned, it was one of understanding and concern. "Greg, are you oka…"

But before he was able to finished, the second gunman to the side of him suddenly got impatient and came into view of Sara. "Will you just do as he says or I'll just fucking shoot him right now!" he screamed in a manic way, which seemed to suggest that he wasn't in complete control of himself. His arm was stretched out shakily towards Greg, who gripped the banister of the stairs tightly behind him and shut his eyes again. Now there were two guns trained on him. Two grips that could pull that delicate trigger. Greg suddenly understood the phrase hanging in the balance.

Taking a deep breath, he yelled "Please, Sara, just do as they say!"

Sara didn't say anything. She simply fled and for a fleeting moment, Greg felt himself despair at her loss for he was now definitely alone. He was upstairs with the dead body of a cop and two gunmen that seemingly killed without care. At the moment everyone was oblivious to what was going on but in a few seconds he could imagine the chaos. The triple homicide had now evolved into that, along with the death of a cop and now a hostage situation and he was at the core of this understatement of 'problem.'

He cursed himself, wondering how disappointed Grissom would be with him now. This was worse than messing up a crime scene, he figured, and after the ordeal with Nick only a few weeks back, Grissom and the entire team could have done without the added burden that was CSI Level One – Greg Sanders.

Once again, he felt himself being dragged away. "Put him back in the room with the boy," the first one ordered the second.

He was lead down the corridor, past the body of an officer again which he tried not to look at in remorse and into a room with a thicker oak door. As he was pushed inside, his eyes caught sight of a smaller boy sitting against the wall furthest away from the door. He couldn't have been more than six years old; his dark hair and olive coloured skin immediately giving him away as the son of Sam de Marinez. Greg landed on his hands and knees in front of the young boy as he was pushed in, catching his eye and then immediately turned around so he could face his captor in fear of an attack.

The second gunman had knelt down in front of Greg so they were facing inches apart. His face turned into a smile, an unpleasant one and which, to Greg, looked predatory. His instinct was to back away from him as far as possible because the close proximity of their bodies was unnerving. Greg leaned back slightly but the man only seemed to follow like a magnet, practically straddling his outstretched legs and he immediately stopped when the gun rested on his cheek. If it weren't so deadly, the cool metal would have felt soothing against his hot skin. But as it slid slowly down his cheek with the other man's gaze never leaving his, Greg knew the sinister implication.

"You've just made my day, boy," the gunman said, smiling in the most disgusting way Greg had ever seen.

"What do you want?" Greg asked, trying to appear unfazed.

"Well, right now we have a job to do. But now…we also have you." The gunman leaned closer and Greg felt his heart tense at the sudden close proximity but he didn't avert his gaze, especially not with the gun touching his cheek. In a moment of heart clenching panic, he realized he was trapped. "And boy, I am going to make use of you in more ways than one."

Now, Greg turned his head away to not look at the attacker and not have the face the problem he had landed himself in. His whole body clenched rigidly in fear, knowing how his own personal situation had escalated beyond a simple hostage. But the manic grabbed him by his hair and turned him back round again, making him wince. He didn't move, suspended in time for a moment, only feeling the gunman's breathe on his face and his continued strange smile. The smell of stale cologne lingered in the air, making Greg want to repulse.

"This is going to be so much fun," the gunman whispered menacingly. Standing up, he let go of Greg's hair to leave the room and close the door behind him. With the adrenaline now leaving his system, Greg's head fell back against the floor and he breathed heavily, as if he'd just ran a marathon; his heart thundered rapidly against his chest from the continual fright he was feeling. Closing his eyes and clenching his teeth, Greg cursed between his teeth at the threatening situation he was now in.

TBC...

Thank you for your reviews:

goblz, Radioactive Raccoony, dd9736, James' Grl, Guardian6 (I found it scary that you already knew about me, lol) Kate Maxwell and Goody (Thank you for your very insightful review by the way. I enjoy reading reviews like that. And I'd never really noticed my overuse of 'whilst.' I'll keep a track on that XD)