This has come up, if anyone is wondering why my rating is so high, it's mostly for the swearing in earlier chapters and just to be safe because the site can be a jerk sometimes and delete your account without notice if they think you broke their rules. It's happened to a friend of mine.
Okay, I know it's been awhile since I updated, but to be extra special nice (so nice that you should bow at my feet perhaps?) I've made this post twice as long. This was originally going to be two chapters and I made it one, so enjoy, consider yourselves lucky I'm a generous person, and get ready for …
What it's Worth
By Goody
The setting was uncomfortable as the three CSIs waited for news. It was as though every molecule in the room was laced with worry and tension. Catherine was at the table, staring straight ahead and tapping her fingers on the countertop, her back to Warrick and Sara who sat on the couch, both in their own little world of concern and impatience. No one said anything despite all the things that needed to be said - everyone already knew. They had each other's support, they shared the same worries, they missed Greg just as much as the other, so there was nothing to say really. They could just be there.
In the hallway, every passerby looked in sympathetically to see how the night shift CSIs were doing, and they all in turn looked back, hoping the next person they saw would have news on how Greg was and when they could get him back.
It was Jim Brass that would finally bring them the information they sought. When he stepped in everyone stood up anxiously.
"Well? What happened?" Catherine asked first.
"They called, it was pretty straight forward. Nick told them we had the disk, they told him where to bring it. Drop's in two hours," he paused, but then pre-empted the next question. "No trace on the cell phone, sorry."
Everyone's faces fell. It was Sara who then asked what they were all thinking, "What about Greg?"
This is what Brass didn't want to tell them. Even now that horrible scream was resonating through his head like a bad song you couldn't stop humming.
"He's alive, Nick talked to him. He sounded all right. Scared, but not too bad otherwise," Brass answered. He knew he was lying by omission, but he also agreed with Grissom, this was a need to know basis, and if they knew that Greg was hurt, there would be more anger and fear in all of them. And every cop knew emotions did not solve cases.
"We should probably listen to the tape of the call, try to distinguish any background sounds. Or compare the voice to some we have on file," Sara suggested. She tried to sound professional, like she wanted to help, like the tape was a great lead, but she really just wanted to hear it. To know for herself that Greg was all right, because it really seemed like Brass was holding out on them.
And he was, which he proved when he shot her down, "Grissom's got that covered, he wants you all working on different angles. You two stay on enemies and security codes, Sara, you're going with some of my guys to a base we're setting up near the drop point. I'll be there in a few minutes, I just gotta organize a few other things."
Everyone nodded, accepting their tasks, and hoping the work would focus them, distract them. Brass left and Sara followed shortly after, eager to help out at the base of operations.
Catherine tugged lightly on Warrick's arm when he appeared so deep in thought he didn't move.
"Come on," she urged him. "We should get back to work. Lot of names to go through."
He nodded and then perked, "Um, you go start without me. I'm gonna go find Nick, see how he's doing."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Catherine agreed and retreated to a computer lab to continue their research. Warrick had to think for a moment, he didn't know where Nick would be. Deciding to go with his gut he marched out into the hall, turned left and was shortly at his destination.
He smiled sadly when he saw he was right. He had found Nick on his first try and he definitely looked like he needed a friend. Sighing, Warrick checked if anyone else was around then pushed through the door of the DNA lab.
"Alone at last, eh Greggo. I've been waiting all day for it to be just the two of us."
Memphis chuckled cruelly as his finger traced down Greg's jaw, causing the young man to jerk back in fear and disgust.
"Don't touch me," Greg hissed, maintaining his defiance despite how hard his fear was fighting for control.
This is what Greg had been dreading. Dallas had left close to an hour ago, Greg hadn't heard why exactly but he knew it was something about the job. That had left him and Memphis alone, very possibly for a long time, and that was the situation he had most feared. At first, Memphis ignored him. Greg could hear the other man moving around the building, closing cases, going outside briefly, he had even heard a gun cocked and tensed, but for once it was not aimed towards him, and Memphis simply continued his preparations for whatever was to come.
But now it seemed those preparations were complete because Memphis was kneeling in front of him, touching him, and from the sound of his voice, he wanted to play.
"I think you forget who's in charge here, stud. You don't get any say," Memphis commented and this time Greg felt something touch his neck but it wasn't flesh, it was the blade of a knife.
No words were necessary as Memphis pushed the knife in harder until Greg had to stand up to avoid having blood drawn. Kidnapper and hostage were now face to face, with Memphis only an inch taller than Greg, but having twice the muscle. As Greg tried not to move Memphis studied his canvas, moving the knife to trace down the side of Greg's face, just light enough not to break the skin.
"I've been wondering all day what I am going to do with you. I'm really conflicted about it to be honest. If that disk wasn't worth so much I might be tempted to just keep you, instead of giving you back. I feel we've grown very close in our time together, don't you?" The knife continued its horrifying exploration of Greg's skin as Memphis sighed regretfully, "But you will be going home, after all I don't have time to give you the attention you need, but until then, you're all mine and what I do with you is up to me. You see, Dallas told me to leave you alone …"
"You know, I've always liked that Dallas, he's a … a smart guy. You should listen to him, probably knows what he's …" Greg abruptly halted his attempt at mercy when he felt the tip of the knife press up hard underneath his chin.
Leaning in close to Greg's ear, Memphis's hissed angrily, "Interrupt me again and you'll have a new hole to breathe through … in your throat."
Memphis waited until Greg trembled out a nod of understanding before continuing on cheerfully.
"As I was saying, Dallas doesn't want me to touch you, not because he cares or anything, but pretty much cause he knows we'll need you alive. Which I get. But I didn't say anything about killing you. I mostly just want to see what you can take."
As he said this, he walked around Greg and stood behind him. Greg tensed and tried to pull away, horrified of getting any more broken fingers or worse, but Memphis held his hands in place with one hand, grabbing onto the handcuff chain once more.
"Please, don't," Greg pleaded, not caring how much pain he was causing his already broken appendages if he could somehow avoid more torture. But Memphis was quick to remind him that there was nowhere to go.
"Don't what? You don't even know what I'm going to do. You assume the worst of me Greggo and that really hurts," Memphis said with mock pain. As he spoke he took a tight grip on Greg's left wrist and attempted to pry his fingers out of the tight fist he held them in. "Not as much as this will of course."
"Stop, please. Why are you doing this?" Greg demanded as he desperately tried to pull his one good hand out of Memphis's grip.
"Because I can. It's all about power, I know that. I'm aware of my own vices, and I embrace them. And in this moment I have all the power I could ask for. You'd tell me the darkest secret you know right now if I asked, you'd tell me anything, anything to make me stop, because it's all up to me. But I'm also doing this because I care."
At this Memphis's tone switched from serious to anxious, as he took a tight hold on Greg's freed and straightened out index finger and Greg felt the knife make another appearance.
"After all, your nails are filthy."
Then without warning the thin blade sliced into Greg's finger, between the skin and the nail, almost, but not quite severing the nail from the finger.
Blood flowed immediately, but not before Greg was trying to bite back the scream of anguish building in him. It was that scream that Memphis was waiting to hear. It was not the first by far that he had caused in his long life of inflicting pain, but he loved each one and tried to remember them all and wanted to make this one special. And when the blade went in just a little further, slowly cutting through sensitive muscle and skin, Greg could hold nothing back.
Memphis thought it might be his favorite scream to date.
Nick looked up briefly when the door opened but did not acknowledge Warrick in any way. He just continued to spin his quarter across the countertop and watch it slow down and then spin it again before it could fall. Taking a seat in a stool a few feet away, Warrick watched this process repeat five or six times until he felt he needed to speak.
"How you doing?" he asked softly, not pressuring Nick to answer.
Nick looked at the ceiling and chuckled disturbingly, the stress obviously getting to him, "You know Rick, I've been a whole lot better."
Nick's voice was shaking slightly. He spun the quarter again, trying anything to distract himself.
"Yeah I can imagine," Warrick replied. More silence, a few more spins, until Warrick cleared his throat, "Brass said you got to talk to Greg, said he was okay. I got the impression there was more to it than that."
There was no attempt at eye contact made on Nick's part, he simply watched the coin spin, over and over, until he finally didn't touch it again, and his eyes were transfixed on the quarter as its momentum slowly died and friction began to defeat it. It clung to the spin as long as possible though, rotating even when it was almost horizontal. Valiant really, fighting until the end even though it could never win, but the forces acting against it were simply too strong and it was eventually overcome.
By the time it stopped, Nick's eyes were brimmed from the emotions he could not control.
"I promised him Warrick. I promised him both of us were going to be okay. Why would I promise him that? I ... I had no right to tell him that ... because we're not okay, neither of us. And as scared and angry and frustrated as I am, I know he's going through something a million times worse, and he's alone, and he's hurt, and I'm just sitting here!" Nick erupted suddenly, picking up the quarter and whipping it at the wall, ignoring the sound of shattering glass that followed. "I'm sitting here and I'm doing nothing. That's all I do. I just do nothing."
"Nick ..."
"But that's all any of us do, isn't it Warrick? Nothing. We don't save lives, we wait for people to die! We don't prevent anything, we can't stop it. We wait for people to die and then we figure out how it happened. And that's what I'm doing now, that's what we're all doing. We're waiting for Greg to die, because then ... then we can do something. We can figure out how."
Nick's hysterical rambling was similar to a drunken rant, and it quickly exhausted him. His shoulders slumped as he turned from Warrick and spread his palms on the counter as he tried to stay upright. Warrick had been too stunned by Nick's tirade to say or do anything, but now, seeing his friend breaking down little by little, he did the only thing he could. He supported him.
Stepping up behind him and squeezing his shoulder, Warrick risked making a promise of his own, "We'll find him Nick. We're doing everything possible, just be patient. We'll make sure you keep that promise."
Nick could only nod, wanting to believe Warrick but unable to respond in words. A light knock on the door drew both men's attention. Brass was standing uncomfortably in the doorway, clearly hesitant to speak and interrupt.
"Sorry guys. Nick, I need you to come with me. I got some of our negotiators set up in my office, they're going to give you some pointers for when you meet with these guys. Whenever you're ready," Brass said, not rushing Nick but making it clear they had little time. It was something they all knew too well.
"I'll be right there," Nick promised and Brass disappeared, his message sent. Before he stepped out the door, Nick and Warrick stood face to face. Nick swallowed then held out his hand. Warrick did the same and they shook on it, solidifying both their promises. "Thanks Rick."
"Don't worry about it. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be around," Nick replied and then started down the hall.
He had a little over an hour to learn how to negotiate with kidnappers and get Greg home alive.
Fifteen minutes after Memphis began his power trip Greg was experiencing a horrible deja vu as he lay on the floor, gasping and exhausted and in complete agony. Three of his nails were barely attached, blood was soaking the floor, and both his hands were completely still except for the involuntary tremble in the left, a side effect of the intense damage done to his nerves from being tortured.
Memphis was kneeling over him, smiling, pleased with his work but regretting not being able to do more. Sitting down he placed an affectionate hand on Greg's shoulder and ignored the shudder that followed.
"You know Greggo, it's really too bad we need you alive. We could have done such wonderful things together, this was really only just a taste." After squeezing his hostage's shoulder, he looked at his watch and sighed. "But all good things, as they say."
Patting Greg's shoulder again as he stood up, Memphis came around behind the pole once more.
Panic and fear immediately gave Greg the energy and will needed to try and move, as futile as it seemed.
"No, don't. Not … not again. Please don't."
Memphis chuckled as he easily managed to grab Greg's cuffs again, "You wouldn't say that if you would just hold still so I can finish."
There was a brief click of metal on metal and then the cuff around Greg's left wrist loosened and the second came off shortly after. He tried to stay calm; his hands were free, maybe he had a chance to get away. But those hopes died away when Memphis pulled him to his feet and he felt the gun barrel at his head once more.
"Let's go," he said, pushing Greg along further into the building.
It was hard to walk with his nerves so rattled after what he had been through but he somehow managed to stay upright. He cradled his hands awkwardly against his chest as he tried not to stumble and asked, "Wh…where are we going?"
"To be honest, there's no 'we' about it for once. You're staying here while I will be visiting with your oh so concerned friend, don't worry, I'll give him your regards. And if he's smart and brings us what we asked for, then we should all be able to live happily ever and he should come rushing back here to rescue you eventually like a good Prince Charming," Memphis explained as they passed through what Greg thought was a swinging door. "Lucky him."
"Shouldn't I … I be going then?" Greg asked, not wanting to stay with Memphis but wanting to leave now, as soon as possible and be back home.
"No, because that's not the way things work, and even more because I don't quite trust Cowboy not to do something stupid, and you're his incentive not to," Memphis said as they stopped. It felt like they were facing a wall and Greg heard the large gunman punching a code into something. Wherever they were, it seemed Greg was going to be locked inside.
Then suddenly he was being overpowered. His back hit the wall hard and he cried out as his broken bones shifted again. He felt like he was suffocating as Memphis's body pinned him in place. The man was so close he could smell him, he could even feel Memphis's sickeningly hot breath coating his skin, making him feel unclean, as he leaned in close to Greg's ear and whispered.
"It's been a real pleasure knowing you Greggo, I mean that. I'll always remember the good times. And I know you'll remember too, but I think I'd still like you to promise. Can you promise me that? Can you promise you'll remember me?"
Greg was shaking but nodded, "I'll ... I'll remember. I'll remember everything about you ... until you're behind bars, because of what I remember. And then I think I'll forget that you ever bothered to exist."
Greg was actually smiling when he finished, proud of his words, until Memphis's knee came up hard into his gut, knocking all the air and pride out of him. He was given only a moment to try to suck in a breath before Memphis forced him to stand by pulling on his right hand, broken fingers and all.
Greg bit back the scream of agony that wanted to come out but Memphis just squeezed harder until it came. The cry was short due to lack of oxygen, but filled with the pain Memphis wanted to hear.
When Greg was standing again, gasping and shaking from the new agony, Memphis's body was still close, this time tense with anger, "You know I could kill you, screw Dallas and the damn disk and the money. It'd be so easy, safety's already off, I just pull the trigger and you're gone. But I don't want you dead, then you'd have won this little game we've been playing. This power struggle of wills. And if I just shoot you in anger, I lose don't I? I lost control and admitted defeat like a poor sport. So I won't do that. I'm going to let you live 'Greggo', I'm going to let you live in fear. Because I know everything about you, your name, where you work, where you live, and I'm going to come for you eventually and we're going to finish this properly. And no, I won't tell you when. I will tell you, that you won't see me coming. I could be anyone, I could be anywhere, and I will be. You have a fun life thinking about that. Now, how about a good-bye kiss?"
Before Greg could react Memphis had grabbed his left wrist with one hand and the back of his head with the other, and then suddenly his lips were being crushed by Memphis's amazingly strong mouth. He couldn't scream or break free and he didn't want to imagine the pain of hitting him with either of his broken, bleeding hands but he still struggled to get away.
It was long seconds before the gunman pulled away and Greg felt physically nauseous; he could taste Memphis's saliva in his mouth and smell the mix of mint gum and alcohol on his breath. The brief attack had been violent and forced, more personal than anything else, and he felt degraded and sick.
"Mmm, thanks. I'll see you around Greggo, now stay cool," Memphis exclaimed as a handle turned and a door opened.
As he tried to regain his composure, Greg felt a chill. Then there was a hand on his back and he was pushed forward. He stumbled and gasped; the air was freezing, probably below freezing actually.
He heard that horrible laugh for the last time and the sound of rushing air as the heavy door closed again and the lock snapped into place.
Alone and with his hands now free, if not shaking, Greg tentatively tore the duct tape off his eyes with his few usable fingers. The light was low so it didn't hurt too badly but what he saw was terrifying.
They had locked him in a freezer.
There were no other doors and no protection, and nobody knew he was there.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," he whispered, able to see his breath in the air as his damp, alcohol drenched clothes offered little protection from the cold. Feeling himself start to shiver already he looked for some way out; he turned around and pounded on the door with his feet and slammed his shoulder into it as well.
"Come back! Let me out of here! Please! Anybody! Help! Let me out!" he yelled until his throat was raw, which didn't take long considering the condition it was already in, and even then he kept pounding. With his last strike he exhausted himself and left his hand on the door for a moment for a balance, only to have it almost get stuck from the cold.
"Okay, think Greg, think. All those cases, there must be a way out of a freezer," he said to himself desperately, trying to think of some grand escape plan and ignore the overwhelming agony still pounding through his body, all resonating from the tips of both his hands.
Looking around he saw he had nothing to work with. There was nothing in the freezer, the walls were smooth metal and the floor was bare except for … something black by the back wall.
Greg walked over slowly, being cold, sore and cautious. When he got close enough, he knelt in front of his prize - it was a walkie-talkie with a note attached that read: Your Only Hope.
He was breathing harder with excitement as he snatched it up carefully, cringing as he leaned it against his knees and fiddled with the knobs with his only uninjured fingers.
"Hello? Hello? Anyone? Please respond, please," he asked desperately as he pressed down the talk button. He waited with baited breath; there was no response. "Anyone? Please? Hello? Please, for the love of heavy metal, somebody get me out of here."
He waited again; there was no answer. He knew there were batteries and that it was working because the static noise disappeared when he hit talk, it was most likely that no one was listening. There should have been a frequency button on the top that he could have used to switch the channel he was on and maybe get a hold of someone, but his kidnappers had assured that wouldn't happen. The button had been removed and another piece of metal was attached over the hole it should be in to keep him from switching it by hand.
"Hello? Please? Anyone?" he asked hoarsely one more time, losing hope as he leaned against the far wall and cradled the walkie-talkie between his chest and legs as he tried to stay warm.
No one responded and he waited, again, and slowly froze.
He hated the cold.
The only reason Nick wasn't pacing was because of the policeman ordering him to stand still as he tightened the straps on his bullet-proof vest. A tech expert was also rigging him with a listening and video device, so they could see and hear whatever he did. Dallas had said to come alone, but he said nothing about not wearing a wire.
"You ready for this?" Brass asked for what felt like the millionth time, but would be the last since it was only ten minutes until the drop took place.
"Yeah, I'm all set. Especially since you guys have me rigged up better than a Christmas tree," Nick pointed out, trying to lighten the mood, but failing quite badly. Everyone smiled for gratuity's sake though.
Brass handed him a case and gave him the final lecture, "Okay, here's the disk. Remember, the code word is RED, as soon as you say it we're on our way in. We're following one minute behind you then the SWAT guys will be around the perimeter, roof and almost every window. I've made it very clear to everyone, we do absolutely nothing until you and Greg are both safe."
"Thanks Jim, for everything you're doing here," Nick said sincerely, knowing that even though hostage situations were always given special treatment they had even more backup than usual.
"Yeah, well believe it or not most of these guys consider you CSIs as part of the team. I don't know, that's just them. Anyway, get the lab rat back in one piece, we'll be even," Jim said, his words were macho and uncaring but his tone was sincere.
"I'll try," Nick promised and walked away, almost ready to go.
The rest of the team was all there, they couldn't be kept away. They were gathered around the listening and viewing station connected to the wires strapped around Nick and he knew they would all be watching and listening as the switch took place. Sara and Warrick were fiddling with the volume knobs when he came over, with Grissom and Catherine standing behind them, talking. Nick walked over for their final pieces of encouragement and support.
"I guess I'm outta here," he said shakily, wishing he felt more confident.
Warrick stood up first and shook Nick's hand, pulling him closer for a brief hug, "You're going to do great man, Greg's in good hands."
"Thanks Warrick."
Sara stood up, hugged him, then looked him in the eye with one request, "Get him back Nick."
He smiled at her; that's all he wanted too, "Yeah."
Catherine hugged him as well, "Take care of yourself."
"I will," he promised, letting her go.
Grissom had only advice, with no embrace or handshake, "Keep your cool Nick, stay calm. Here, emotion will not be your friend."
"So I'm told," Nick replied and then took a breath. "Guess I'll see you all in a few minutes then, maybe we can all take Greg out for breakfast, make him pay for worrying us like this."
Again, Nick tried to joke, but it was once again rejected - everyone's emotions were too high strung to allow laughter.
Nick sighed and took a final look at every face before he waved one last time, "Bye."
Disk in hand, he walked alone out the front of the building and into his car. As he sat in the driver's seat he checked the signals on his hidden devices.
"Everything working all right?" he asked
"You're coming in clear and the video feed looks good. You're all set Nicky, good luck," Catherine's voice replied in his earpiece.
"Thanks Cath, I might need it," he whispered, then started his car and pulled out of the building's lot. It only took about forty-five seconds to reach the Eckleton factory, there wasn't much traffic in this part of town and Nick didn't see anyone around. He parked in the front, got out of his car and shifted nervously, tapping the disk case against his hand.
"Here we go Greg, time to get you back," Nick whispered again, forgetting the rest of the team could hear him.
Back at the police base, Warrick, Catherine, Sara and Grissom were huddled as close as possible around the monitors. No one mentioned it, but they were all praying, for Nick and Greg's safety.
There was one boarded glass door at the front of the building that Nick walked through. After going through a short hallway Nick was at another door. Taking a breath, he pushed it open and found himself in a huge room that had once been a production line. Conveyor belts, boxes and packaging machines were everywhere, all covered in dust, some rusty. These things all caught Nick's eye for only a moment until his attention became focussed on the far right hand wall, where a lone figure sat on a table, swinging his legs.
It was Memphis.
Nick approached slowly, becoming apprehensive, and whispered into his microphone, "I don't see Greg."
"Patience Nicky," Grissom suggested, "He's probably there somewhere, just stay calm."
Nick nodded undetectably and kept walking, but his eyes now scoured the rest of the huge room in search of not only Greg, but Dallas as well. It was strange that only one of them was present.
It was then that Memphis noticed him. He seemed to not have a care as he waited and when he saw Nick he even smiled and waved. Once again, he was wearing a mask, but this time it only covered the upper half of his face.
"Cowboy, hey there. You're right on time, very impressive," Memphis commented as he jumped down from the table and walked to meet him.
Nick stopped his progress forward, halting Memphis as well with the stern, not amused look on his face, "Where's Greg?" he demanded.
"My god, you know you really kill a topic until it's dead. That brat's all you ever talk about," Memphis said, smirking with amusement at Nick's growing anger. "What about sports? Football? You catch the game last night? Good old Dolphins. I won two hundred bucks myself."
"I missed it. Now either you tell me where he is right now, or I will smash this disk to pieces. I am that sick and tired of this," Nick threatened and Memphis's good mood seemed to disappear.
"Careful Nick," Catherine requested in his ear, but he did not reply.
"Of course you will. Either way he's not here, and I don't think you would destroy it and risk dear Greggo's life," Memphis said, testing Nick's reaction.
"Don't try me. Now where is he?" Nick demanded again. "I get proof he's all right before you get anything."
Memphis actually laughed as he walked back towards his table and picked something off the table top. Nick didn't get a good look at what it was and tensed; it could have been a gun.
Turning back to him, Memphis tossed him the object, "The kid's fine, for now. There, talk to him if you want. Tell him I said hi."
Nick caught what he threw and stared, it was a walkie-talkie. He looked at Memphis sceptically, remembering what had happened the last time he talked to Greg, but he decided he had to take the risk.
He turned it on, brought it to his lips and hit talk, "Greg? Are you there, G?"
The voice that answered was slightly slurred, hoarse and disbelieving, "Nick? Is that you?"
"Greg? Yeah, it's me, are you all right?" Nick asked quickly, turning from Memphis as he talked to have some privacy and to hide his joy and relief at hearing Greg alive.
"Only if you think p…penguins have it good," Greg replied, sounding much more like himself. He was scared of dying alone in the cold, but at least now he could speak freely, unrestrained with no one threatening him every few minutes. "I'm okay, mostly."
Nick was confused, this was Nevada after all, "What do you mean, penguins? Where are you?"
"Some kind of freezer," Greg replied and Nick could hear his teeth chattering.
"What?" Nick exclaimed, then put down the walkie-talkie and confronted Memphis, "You bastard, he'll die! Where is he?"
"He'll only die, if you let him," Memphis taunted, shaking a finger at Nick. "Now, hand over the disk. I'll make sure it's not a fake and you can talk to Greggo for a little while."
"No way. You get nothing until I know where he is," Nick replied, holding the disk high and away from Memphis's reach.
The larger man was not phased, "If you don't give it to me, you never find out where he is, at least not until it's too late and he freezes to death. At least he'll be well preserved though, right? He'd make a lovely ice sculpture."
"Nick? Hello?" Greg's voice came through the walkie-talkie once more, scared he had lost his only connection to the outside world.
"I'm still here G, hold on one second. I'm with Memphis, I'm trying to find out where you are, just hold tight," Nick requested, never taking his eyes from the kidnapper.
"No, Nick, be c…careful, he's dangerous," Greg answered, showing his own concern for his friend, whose life was also in very clear danger.
Looking on expectantly, Memphis waited for an answer. Nick hesitated and waited for advice. It was Grissom's voice that came to his ear this time.
"It's your call Nick, follow your best judgment."
Memphis also added mockingly, "Every second you stall poor little Greggo's temperature is dropping."
"You're disgusting," Nick hissed, but handed over the disk.
"Thanks."
Smiling, Memphis took it casually and turned back to the table where he had a laptop set up.
"Oh, and as a show of good faith, you can have this right now," Memphis smirked, holding out a piece of white paper.
Nick took it sceptically and opened it - 2 6 9 3 0.
"What is this?" he asked.
Memphis was putting the disk in the drive and looked up from the screen, "It's the security code for the door your boy's locked behind. I'd hate for you to get there and you know, not be able to open it."
Nick wanted to bust open this man - to hurt him physically and assault him verbally for being such a horrible excuse for a human being - but none of that would help them.
In his ear, Catherine had some advice that would, "Nick, talk to Greg, try to get some clues as to where he might be."
Nick nodded and clicked on the walkie-talkie once more, "Greggo, you still there?"
"Y… yeah, I'm here," Greg answered, teeth chattering even worse. "Not r…really going anywhere."
"Okay, I'll be there real soon G, I promise. How are you doing?" Nick asked.
"Not r…real great, it's getting a little colder. It's almost funny, I moved from New York because I hated the w…winter there," Greg said, proving himself to be the perpetual storyteller, even in life threatening situations.
"I'm sorry to hear that Greggo. Do you know where you are?" Nick asked quietly, hoping Memphis wouldn't hear him trying to get location information.
But Greg couldn't help him, "No. I haven't s…seen anything since I got here, s…sorry."
"No, don't apologize, you're doing great. How long have you been in there?" Nick wanted to get some kind of time frame for how long they had to find the former labrat.
"I don't know. F…feels like forever," Greg replied.
"I'm not surprised," Memphis suddenly spoke up from a few feet away. He smiled when he saw he had Nick's attention, "I turned the cold up all the way before I left."
Nick fumed and wanted to lunge at the man. The voices in his ear kept him calm.
"Easy Nick, wait until he tells us where Greg is, then the cops will take him down," Catherine promised.
"Well it shouldn't be much longer, okay," Nick said to Greg, promising himself he would find him quickly, even if he had to kill to do it.
"Yeah, okay, I'll b…be here," Greg sighed, too exhausted and cold to try to joke or make conversation anymore.
"Wonderful," Memphis exclaimed from the table. He removed the disk from the drive and closed his laptop as he spoke, "Everything seems to be in order, I actually think you brought me the real thing. Thanks Cowboy, it's been a pleasure doing business with you."
Seemingly satisfied, Memphis picked up his belongings and started to head for the backdoor.
"Hey!" Nick yelled, stopping the man. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me where Greg is."
"Oh, that. Well this is how that's going to work. I know you've got police around this place, it's procedure, I knew you wouldn't be coming alone. So what I'm going to do, is walk out of here, safe and sound, and drive away. I don't know how far, but when I'm sure there are absolutely no cops following me, I'll call you and tell you where to find him and you can have a happy little reunion. Okay?" Memphis didn't wait for an answer; he turned around to walk out once more.
"Not okay, that wasn't the deal!" Nick exclaimed, chasing after the man. He grabbed his shoulder and spun him around and then stepped back as he found himself face to face with a 22mm.
"That's the new deal," Memphis announced, gun held steady.
Nick knew he wouldn't be able to overpower this man, and definitely wouldn't be able to force the information out of him, but he couldn't stand the idea of leaving Greg alone any longer, to slowly freeze to death while Memphis drove away. Instead of anger, frustration or violence, Nick tried sincerity.
"Please, just tell me where he is. You can still walk out of here, but he doesn't deserve this," Nick pleaded.
Memphis smiled, pretending to be touched, "That's real sweet Cowboy, and even if I agreed with you, you and I both know the only reason your cop friends haven't swarmed this place already is because you don't know where he is, and I intend to keep it that way. Best thing you can do to get him back sooner, is make sure no one follows me. That means, stay put as I walk out of here."
Inside Nick was conflicted, but knew that letting Memphis go was his best chance of getting Greg back alive. There was only one problem - he didn't trust Memphis.
The gunman was waiting for Nick's reply, gun still drawn and aimed at his forehead.
"How do I know you'll call?" Nick asked.
Memphis smirked, "You don't."
Nick didn't respond, because at that moment they both noticed the shift in light in the room and both men turned to the low window at the far wall to see what was blocking the sun. Nick's eyes widened as Memphis's narrowed and the gun changed directions to focus on the SWAT team sniper visible outside.
The next few moments would replay over and over in Nick's mind for months to come. Surprised and too trigger happy for his own good, Memphis fired a round at the SWAT guy, breaking the glass in the window but missing his head. Reacting on training and instinct, the officer moved out of Memphis's direct line of sight, aimed, and fired three rounds of his own. Nick tried futilely to stop it all.
He yelled, "No! Wait!"
He even ran forward, trying to push Memphis clear, but it was no good. The officer's aim was flawless, he was well trained, and the bullets imbedded themselves in Memphis's chest with horrifying accuracy.
Even as Memphis was falling, more action was happening. Cops came in through the doors, SWAT members came in through the windows, all with weapons drawn and nowhere to aim them. But Nick didn't see them. He caught Memphis's arm before he hit the ground and lowered him slowly. Placing both hands over the stream of blood escaping Memphis's chest Nick prayed he wouldn't die.
"No, no, you can't die. Stay alive, stay awake!" he demanded, yelling in Memphis's face as the murderer's eyes wandered without focus as he struggled to breathe.
"Cowboy… you bastard," Memphis stuttered out between gasping breaths. "Son of a bitch."
"No, stay awake, tell me where he is! Please, where is he? I have to find him," Nick said, desperate and afraid as the one man who could help him find Greg slowly died.
Memphis could have answered, he had enough air in his lungs and he understood Nick perfectly, but the plan had gone wrong and he was angry. The cops had killed him, stolen his life, and this was the only way he had to get even in his last moments. He would give them no answers.
"Good luck," Memphis said, barely audible. He actually smiled, satisfied in his retribution and managed a final laugh, before his eyes rolled back completely and his breathing stopped forever.
And Nick knew that as he died, so did any chance he had of finding Greg alive.
TBC
HAHAHAHAHA! I'm soooo mean. Twice as long a chapter equals twice as bad a cliffie I suppose. But I love it, like I love my reviewers and love my fic.
cuddles fic My precious!
Hikaru Kosuzaku – I'm tempted to say "there's no crying in fanfiction" which is only funny if you like the movie "A League of their Own" but I won't say it, that'd be cheesy. Cry all you like, and thank you for reviewing, it was short, but it made me laugh really hard for some reason and that made it wonderful.
? – This is to whoever wrote the nice review about me writing a novel and didn't put a name. I'm very flattered and I also read some TV and movie novelizations and really love them so wouldn't be opposed to writing one and if I ever write one I'll mail you a copy.
Guardian6 – Why thank you, I do try to be original with my bad guys, glad I'm succeeding. Blushes, you're too kind. I don't think it's so much brilliant as it that I have too much time on my hands and just stare into space thinking up mean things to do to Greg. Hope you're still enjoying, always nice to hear from you, sorry this wasn't as speedy as before, but at least it's long.
Rojaji – lol, I do that all the time! I'm so eager to read new chaps of fics that I just speed through them and then get all sad when it's over too quick. I suppose it's our own faults. Sorry for the wait, thanks for reviewing.
IceQueen1 – Always love getting your reviews, you're far too kind. I'm enjoying exploring the non-life threatening injuries this fic, I'm usually one to go for the stab wound or the gun shot, but as this chapter really shows, I'm going for the prolonged pain and a different kind of tension. Very happy that you're enjoying. You know what it's like? Ouch, if you mean you broke your fingers before, then I hope it was only one and you recovered okay. Thanks again for reviewing.
Kenzimone – I think the question now is, can you be a CSI with about five fingers … and frozen solid. I liked the coin part too, so much so that it made another guest appearance at the beginning of the chapter, which was one of my favorite parts. LOL, blow up the lab? Greg? He's already experienced that once, even with Stockholm syndrome I don't think he'd put anyone through that. Original idea though, maybe I'll play around with it.
Raven spirit – Ah, thank you. I try to update quickly and hopefully you have kept the insanity at bay during the hiatus. If not, I can send you some wonderful medications that have helped me.
Bree1387 – Yeah, this chapter was my favorite that I've written so far, I hope you guys all liked it too. I know it's not real high on actual h&c but it's angsty at the very least. I think what I like is that Greg and Nick get reunited but then they don't at the same time. It was really fun to write too, so that might have been it.
Shacky20 – It's fun to make Nick listen to the torture, lately I really haven't been sure what I like more, Nick helplessness or Greg pain. I've been kind of conflicted about it, but if I always have both I guess I don't really have to pick one. Well thanks again for the nomination, and I saw you were nominated as well, congrats. You'll definitely be getting my vote. No need to thank me for writing, this has been one of my favorite fics to write ever! I really enjoyed it, I don't know why. So sorry I haven't gotten back to Reclaiming Life, I will finish it! I promise. I've had a lot going on lately though. Hope you enjoyed the long chapter.
Many wonderful and heartfelt thanks to all my other reviewers as well, Skat8erchick1435. Rikkairora, Emmithar, Sillie, Vanagristiel, Jackie, Daisyangel, GreggoAddict, mellowyellow36 and foursidedtriangle. Sorry I didn't have time to respond to you all.
Oh, I almost forgot, I got nominated in the CSI fanfic awards (thanks muchly to Shacky20) and I'm supposed to spread the word about the awards, so if there's any fics you want to nominate you have until the end of August. Just check out my bio for the website since I don't know how to make links work in chapters.
Okay, word has been spread. Sorry about the evil cliffie, wait I'm lying, I'm not sorry at all, enjoy the evil cliffie, and I'll be back shortly with more. Later days, Goody.