Summary: Strange events in the form of murder leave nothing, but trouble and confusion. Nick and Warrick are pulled into a world they were not ready for. It threatens not only their lives, but their sanity.
Disclaimer: This is all written in fun and trial for something new. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.
Author's Note: Howdy! Hope you all have a good couple of days. Weren't too bad here. Just been really busy and going to continue this week. Thanks to everyone for the words on the last chapter. Lot's of people seem to be reading it so I guess it is going in a good direction. As I said last time, we are going nowhere, but forward now. Hope you all enjoy the mess the guys get themselves into this chapter…well, not that they ask for it… Hmm, ah well. Go on now, read! Bye!
Title: Poisonous Fear
By: duffshel
#15
Charlie Johnson sat in his chair, his eyes facing straight in front of him. That burly cop and the gray haired CSI were sitting across from him. He knew they had talked with Brian and that he gave them something. Otherwise, he wouldn't be back in here. He still wasn't going to talk to these assholes. Let them rot.
"Now we know you and Dubois are working with someone to commit murder. All we want to know is how you are connected to all of this. Were you present for the murder of Brett Mueller?" Brass asked in an even voice.
Grissom watched the man closely as he rolled his eyes slightly, "Who did you kill?"
"I didn't kill anyone. Never have, never will," Johnson ground out.
"But you were part of it. How?"
"Look, no matter what you get, it will be nothing. You're not going to be able to stop anything. It all is in motion. All you can do is step out of the way and let it happen…though I think you're already in too deep and are royally fucked."
Brass looked hard at the man on the other side of the table, "Who's putting it all into motion, Mr. Johnson? Because whoever it is, they are taking you down as well. You wife was killed and your son is missing Mr. Johnson. You wanna talk now?"
This was a new bit of information for the man in the cuffs. His face paled and his hands began to shake. "When did this happen?"
"It is not important for right now," Brass said, "You need to tell us what we want to know first, then I will fill you in on all of that."
"Fuck you."
"That won't work with us. Just tell us what you have to do with everything and who you are working with on all of it."
Johnson frowned, "You'll never get a hold of him anyways. It is pointless."
Brass slammed his hands down on the table, "Who did you kill!"
"The boy!" the blonde man shouted back, "The boy! He was harassing my kid and he needed to learn a damn lesson! He was killed for showing that he thought he was tougher than my boy."
"You know his name?" Grissom asked softly, a complete contrast to the echoes in the room.
"Yeah, Kevin Starr. He was in my kid's school. Beat him up everyday on the way home from school. You see my boy's legs?"
Grissom shook his head no. He hadn't been present for that interview. Vega and Nick were the ones present for that one and neither was available at that moment. He still hadn't been able to get a hold of Nick anyways. But, a breath of relief escaped his body. They had a name for the lost boy.
"Why the frog toxin? Why the dogs?"
Johnson ran his hands through his hair, "He uses the toxin for us to get the person to submit. It is used on everyone we deal with. And as for the dogs…Starr was petrified of them. Use their greatest fear against them."
"But he was just a boy?"
"So! He walked around like he had nothing to worry about. That nothing could touch him. It happens at every age. No one can get away with that."
Brass began feeling a strange deja vu with this conversation. This all sounded like one he had with a different man in a different place. Some things were finally falling into place, but he didn't have enough so he wasn't about to bring any of it up in this little meeting.
"So, you know who has the frogs?"
"Of course, but we are done here. I am not going to talk to you anymore."
The blonde man sat back in his chair and set his face. Grissom could tell that this was all they were going to get out of him for now. The CSI got up out of his chair and left the room quickly. He would leave the rest to Brass to finish up. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial.
"Willows."
"Catherine, its Grissom. We have a name for the mauling victim. His name is Kevin Starr. Are you still with Sam?"
He listened to the woman on the other end of the line, "Okay. I want you to have him look up the boy's information and then call me with the address."
The phone flipped closed and he walked down the hallway. He wanted to get into his car and get back to the lab. But he stopped when he was outside for a moment. His phone flipped open again and he typed in a new number. The voice mail came on.
"Nick, its Grissom. Please give me a call when you get this message. I need to talk with you."
Grissom looked around him at everything happening outside the police station. Life was moving fast around him and he felt like he was in a stand still. All these men were working together one something, killing people as they went. He was going to figure it all out. This was going to end.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The black cloaks flittered around the bodies of the many people standing in the lawn. They had all received the phone call from their master and were given the new address. But this was going to be different than normal. No one was going to die on this mission. Both men were to go back with them.
One raised their hands to the hood and pushed it back. Sharon Walker studied the house in front of her. They had already gone to the other's apartment, but found no one had been home for a couple days. From what she had learned from the files, Brown would most likely be at the Stoke house if he wasn't at his house.
"Okay, just get in there and grab them. They are not to be harmed yet. But make sure you keep them quiet. No loud noised. Remember, anyone can see us. After all, we are doing this in broad daylight."
Several hooded heads nodded and they began their stalking on the house. There would be two groups for this mission. One group would take the back of the house while the other covered the front. They had no idea where both men were in the house so they had to cover all the bases.
Sharon put her hood back on and walked over to the front door. She knelt down so she was eye level with the lock and pulled out her tools. Her record was twenty three seconds on getting into a house. This might be the one chance to make a new one.
Several people stood behind her as she worked her magic. It wasn't long before the door swung open on quiet hinges. Quickly, they moved in and swarmed out to cover every inch of the place.
Nick jumped off the couch when he heard the door slam against the wall behind it. He had been swept up in a program on the Animal Planet Channel about the American Dove when it happened. His eyes got wide when he took in all the people in black cloaks now standing in his living room.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my house!"
"I would recommend you shut up and not try anything stupid," a male voice snickered.
Nick took one more good look and shook his head before he shouted, "Warrick! Warrick, get out of the house!"
The Texan jumped up over his coffee table and took off towards his hallway. The door to the bedroom was still closed and still locked. Warrick was trapped in that room, but he probably was safer in there. Nick threw his body into the door as loudly as he could before he continued to make his way down the hallway. There was black outs underneath the backdoor. People's feet.
Nick skidded to a stop on the carpeting. His breath quickened as he realized he was trapped on both ends. He walked slowly backwards until his back was right up against his bedroom door. Two cloaked figures were walking towards him from the living room and the backdoor was rattling on its hinges. Nick swallowed the lump that grew in his throat.
He was not prepared for when the door opened and an arm wrapped around his shoulders, "Hey!"
Nick fell hard on his bedroom floor and looked up as he watched Warrick slam the door shut again and lean against it, "Damn, Nick. Who the fuck are those guys!"
"I have no idea. Wanna help me up?"
Warrick leaned over and grabbed Nick's raised hand. He grabbed the other man's shoulder once he was on his feet and looked him over quickly. The shout had woken him up and he looked out past the black out curtains over the window to see people milling around in the yard. He wanted to make sure Nick was okay. It appeared there was nothing new.
The shorter CSI worked on getting his breathing under control when he heard the doorknob begin to shake. He unconsciously took a step backwards, away from the door. There were several voices outside in the hallway and they were trapped. He sensed Warrick leave his side, but did nothing about it.
It took only a few steps before Warrick stood next to the bedside table. His cell phone was smiling up at him. Warrick picked up the phone and began dialing before it fully opened. The ringing was annoying and he was almost hopping from foot to foot as he waited for a voice on the other end.
"Crime lab. How may I direct your call?"
"I need a CSI, Grissom, Catherine…anybody!"
The voice on the other end hesitated before thanking him and putting him on hold. He didn't want to try each number individually since he didn't know who he would be able to reach. Someone had to be at the lab. Warrick looked over to where Nick was standing, starring blankly at the shaking door.
"Nick, would you come over here, please."
Nick turned and looked over at Warrick. His body was frozen in shock and his arm was killing him from his recent fall onto the floor. Nothing was moving for him anymore. "Can't 'Rick."
"What do you mean you can't! Get your ass…"
"Excuse me?"
Warrick frowned and jerked his head slightly at the new voice in his ear, "Catherine?'
"Geez Warrick. What should I do with my ass?"
"Not you Catherine. I was yelling at Nick. We need help. Someone just broke into Nick's house and they are trying to get a hold of us. We're locked in the bedroom."
He could hear the gasp on the other end and Catherine yelling off at someone else. Warrick looked back at Nick and couldn't help, but gasping himself. Nick was taking steps towards the damn door.
"Nick, what the fuck are you doing?"
"It's quiet out there."
"Trust me, man, they didn't leave. We're stuck. I have Catherine on the phone."
The Texan nodded his head, "They will get us before anyone else can make it."
Then, as if to accent Nick's words, something crashed into the bedroom window. Warrick swore and threw himself into the wall farthest from the now shattered window. The door began to shake even harder than before. Nick still stood in his place, eyes wide and hands shaking.
People were in his house, invading his home. Again! Flashes of Nigel came back into his head without his permission. This took all Nick's rational thought processes away. He could hear Warrick's voice yelling at him, but couldn't make out the words anymore. He was trapped within his own nightmarish world of past and now present.
"Nick! Shit man, get your ass over here!"
Someone was hitting the rest of the glass from the window. Warrick was wishing for his gun, but he had left it in his truck. Both men were unarmed and Nick seemed to be frozen in time. The hinges on the door were beginning to come out of their places. It was only a matter of moments.
"Catherine!"
The woman's voice was back on the phone and Warrick took advantage of it, "Catherine, they're almost in. We'll try to hold them off. Send help!"
Warrick slammed the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket. He glanced at the window as he walked to Nick's side. With a silent apology, he grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him back to the wall. Nick didn't put up much resistance, but he did wince once or twice.
"You got any more bats under the bed?"
"No, that was it. Nothing in the closet either," Nick calmed his breathing a little, but not much.
"Well, we are going to have a fight when they get in here. Are you ready?"
Nick nodded his head and tried to pull himself together the best he could. He knew he was freaking Warrick out, but he couldn't help it. This house was supposed to be a safe zone. Now, two different situations proved that wrong. Movement from the window drew his attention.
The glass had been cleared out and now they were able to enter. Both men were pressed against the other wall. In no time, two bodies were in the bedroom. The moment all four feet were on the carpeting, the black man lunged forward with a growl and seized one black cloak in two fists. The other cloaked figure didn't waste any time. He jumped to the door and turned the lock.
People were everywhere and Nick lost sight of his friend in the sea of black cloth. A small figure moved towards him and he threw out his good fist. It connected and he heard a feminine grunt. These were not all men. It surprised the CSI a little more than it should have.
Another body quickly took up the space and Nick tried to get off another hit. Two strong hands clasped around his forearm and pulled his weight forward. A fist connected, hard, with his already bruised face. Nick tried to fight it, but he didn't win. He landed hard on his knees and before he could move, hands leaned extra weight on his shoulders. The pressure sent a jolt of pain through his healing bones. Nick cried out.
Warrick took three of the black cloaks down when he heard the cry from Nick. He turned and saw the other man on his knees, two figures pressing him down. In this distraction, someone got off a lucky punch. It threw Warrick's head to the side and he felt his lip break. Someone grabbed him from behind. He threw himself forward and broke the hold.
He pushed his way towards Nick and rammed his body into one of the person's holding the Texan down. Nick yelped out as it jostled his arm again. Tears were beginning to gather in his eyes at the extra abuse. A black figure knelt in front of him. Nick tried to make out a face through the darkness.
"Who are you?"
A small, ringed hand reached out and touched his cheek, "You'll find out soon enough. For know, it is time to take a small nap."
Nick crinkled his brow at the announcement. He pulled at the hands holding him down, but couldn't break free. Fingers were tugging at the sleeve of his t-shirt. Cold air made the hair on his upper arm stand from the goose bumps. He didn't have anymore time to figure it out when he felt the prick of a needle jab into his skin. It was quick. His head fell forward.
Warrick knocked down another body. His own was protesting at everything, but he was going to keep going until they were free. There couldn't be that many more. Warrick took a deep breath as he turned to where he had last saw Nick. His friend was leaning forward, chin on his chest.
"Nick!"
"He won't be answering you. It would be best for you to get on your knees and stop fighting us," the voice was soft and sweet.
"Like hell!"
Several hands grabbed the CSI and pushed him down. The attackers were coming around from the blows they had suffered and they were pissed. None were gentle. Warrick cringed when he felt the needle plunge into his neck. His vision blurred and went dark.
Sharon watched as the black man's head fell forward before she removed her hood, taking in the bright sunlight. They had to get out of there. She motioned for everyone to grab some part of each man and they moved quickly. It wasn't much of a hassle to remove the men through the front door and into their van. They all piled in. Sharon looked up before she got in. Sirens could be heard heading in their direction.
TBC…