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: Hi, hi, hi! Had a good birthday, thanks for the well wishes! I am here on Sunday mostly because of an email (you know who you are!) about how it was Sun. on her calendar. And for all those who missed Warrick and Nick, are you sure you want me to put them back in! They don't like me too much right now. Ah well, they have been asking for this the entire story. So, as always, let me know what you think about this chapter. I promise more to come, fairly soon. I do love suspense and drama after all. Thanks for reading and anything you have to say. And oh yeah, I wrote a quick One-Shot for Still Life that I am posting tonight as well. Take a look if you wish. Until next time, bye!
Title: Poisonous Fear
By: duffshel
#17
It was cold. And damp. The air was thick and almost seemed to hard to be able to pull through the nostrils. Warrick opened his mouth and sucked in as much air as he could. The pounding within his skull went away a little, but not all that much to be impressive. But he was ready to open his eyes.
Hazy, yet alert green eyes opened. For a moment, Warrick was frightened that whatever they shot him with in the neck had fucked with his optical sensory. It was dark and there were many shadows in the room, many appeared to be moving. Another deep breath chased some of them away and allowed the CSI to focus his pupils more.
There was no color in the room. From the straight forward view that Warrick currently had was nothing to behold. It appeared to be the stones walls of an old cellar. Made sense with the smell. He had been in a few cellars on cases before and this all fit with those memories.
Warrick forced his stiff neck into action and turned his head to look to his right. There were other noises in the room and he wanted to know what they were. His left hand tried to automatically come up to massage the tight muscles, but Warrick couldn't get it to move. A couple more pulls with both hands proved to show the uselessness of the two limbs. And the rope was chaffing his skin.
Several chairs, all empty, stood in place on the right side of the room. From the looks of it, Warrick figured he must be close to a wall. Slowly, he swiveled his head towards his left. The panoramic pass showed more chairs and finally some color. Two bodies were slumped in their own chairs.
The one closest to the tall CSI was the small, Mexican boy. Miguel Johnson was awake, but he was gagged with tears pouring down his flushed cheeks. His entire frame was caught in the throws of tremors. Warrick looked closer at his arms and noticed they too were captured behind his body, against the back of the chair.
Looking a little more to his left, Warrick finally took in the image of his partner. Nick was still unconscious, his chin resting forward so that his face was not completely visible. But from what Warrick could see, he wasn't happy. The Texan's pallor was pale and sweaty. Unlike him or the boy, Nick was tied up a little differently, to enclose the arm cast. The cast was tied tightly to his chest by three loops of rope, the good arm pulled backwards behind his body.
"Nick!"
There was no response from his partner, but Miguel began to try to jump up and down in his chair, "Calm down Miguel. I promise we will get out of this. I just need you to remain calm."
The kid stopped trying to pry himself from the chair, but his eyes were still wide in fear and question. Warrick didn't know what to say to the kid. He had no idea what to say to himself. Nick really needed to wake up and talk to him, soon.
"Miguel, I need to ask you something. Just nod or shake your head with the answer. Did you happen to see where they took us? Where we are?"
He watched closely and Miguel shook his head. Warrick felt his heart drop down to his stomach, "You see anything?"
Again, another shake. Warrick sighed and closed his eyes to hide his feelings from showing in his eyes to the lost child. Thoughts were running wild through his mind, but nothing staying in place long enough for him to do anything with them. He had no idea what to do. Panic swelled up like a beast.
A deep moan caught his attention and he opened his eyes back up. His first instinct was to look at Miguel, but he saw that the boy's attention was else where. Warrick followed his gaze and looked upon his partner. The Texan was moving his head.
"Nick! Hey man!"
Warrick watched as Nick's head rolled sideways off his chest. The other man's face was scrunched up in what appeared to be pain and confusion. But it still was nice to see Nick beginning to move in this nightmare.
But Nick had to disagree completely. His head felt like it weighed a couple tons and his arm felt like it was about to swell right out of its cast. There was someone rude enough to yell at him as he worked his way back to the living. Nick would have yelled back, but his tongue had forgotten how it was supposed to work.
He managed to get his head upright and opened blurry eyes. The images in front of him slowly swam into focus and the voice he was hearing was not in his head any longer. It was a soothing bass that he knew all too well. Warrick was freaking out again.
"War…" Nick had to attempt to swallow before another attempt, "Warrick, who hit me in the head?"
"More people than I can count man. How ya feeling?"
"Like someone hit me in the head, hard."
Warrick gave a little smile at the response, "Fine, have it your way. All I have to say is that we are in trouble here."
Nick simply blinked. Things were becoming clear and he finally realized there was yet another person in this dank room with them. His throat closed a little more at the sight of the kid tied up, fighting his bonds. No one that young should ever have to deal with things such as these. Adults forced too much on their young minds as it was. This would be too much.
"So, Warrick, man. Any brilliant ideas for this one?"
"Not yet," the other man shook his head slowly, "But we will think of something. We always do."
The Texan stretched his neck backwards before rolling his head on his shoulders. All his upper body muscles were tight and it was giving him a headache. He finally took in his study of the room they were in, but it took all of maybe a minute. Only souls were his, Warrick's, and lost little Miguel's. Chairs and lots of dust were the only other occupants. But he could make out the impression of two doorways.
"One of those has to lead out of here," Nick nodded his head towards the other wall.
Warrick took in the faint lines in the gloom, "And?"
"Well, we can use one."
"Seeing how we would need to have the ability to move to do so, I think you need another plan there Stokes."
"Always turning me down Warrick," Nick twisted his good arm and felt the restriction of the ropes holding him. It was tight, but the way it tied was not impressive. If he could get the one arm free, then he would be able to stand since the ropes around his body were not connected to the chair in any form that he could tell.
Miguel watched with wide eyes as the white man wriggled around in his chair. Grown ups were always supposed to be safe and help him when he asked. These two never did anything to him. In fact, Nick was nice and liked his tadpoles. Maybe these grown ups could save him.
The young eyes watched the CSI struggle, but even he could see it was a fruitless effort. A groan escaped the man and it sounded full of pain and frustration. His eyes were drawn away from the man when by the sound of a thud and creak. Miguel looked across every surface in the room, but stopped when he came across one of the doors. Puffs of dust emerged as the large object began to move, inwards.
This new movement also caught the attention of the two CSI's. Warrick's eyes got large at this new development. He knew the door would open sometime, but not this soon. They had no time to go over anything and get their plan of attack in line. This was not good.
As the door scraped against the floor of the room, it was clear to tell by the noises that it was made of metal. Nick twisted as much as he could to get a good look at what was outside of that door, but what he saw didn't give him any relief. Nothing more than black cloaks and more slabs of concert leading off into the dark.
Several figures marched into the room, but none of them came near any of the captives. From what Nick could tell, none even glanced in their direction. His eyes quickly counted nine figures. Only one had some silver etched into the hood of his cloak. That one was not present at his house during the attack on him and his partner.
Chairs screeched as they were shifted into different positions. There were no extra ones. Everyone had a person sitting straight in them. And they formed a semi circle around the head cloaked person and the three people sitting in complete confusion.
"What's going on? Who are you?" Warrick couldn't keep quiet anymore. He was getting more and more nervous at this situation. None had said anything and all were now starring in their direction.
Nick shook his head at the questions. Only Warrick would ask such stupid questions in such a position, "How about letting us go?" He raised his eyebrows at his own question. Never hurt to try.
A chuckle shook the edges of the hood lined with silver. Whoever was underneath was about average height and now most certainly male. Black shoes pointed out from the cloth as the man walked closer to Nick. The Texan pulled his head up, but leaned it back a little at the approach.
"You are going to get a new lesson in life here gentlemen. I wouldn't waste your time or breath on asking stupid questions. Only take the time to answer ours."
The voice had age behind it. Something in the tone reminded Warrick a little of Grissom. But when the hood was pulled back, the face reminded him of something else.
"Mr. Tenner!"
Nick had never seen the man before and was confused with how the other CSI knew who he was, "Warrick?"
"We have never met have we, Mr. Stokes? I am Jacob Tenner and this is my establishment. Your CSI team came to see me and learned a little about what we do here. Both of you are going to learn the rest."
"So you brought us to your church! But the entire department knows where it is! Brass was in it himself."
Mr. Tenner simply shook his head and grinned, "Even if they do put it all together and come back, they will not find you. This room is not part of the actual building. I had it put in when I bought it. No blueprints of it and no way to find the correct way in."
The elderly man walked closer and reached out his hand towards Nick. The wrinkled hand rested softly against the skin of the Texan's cheek. Tenner leaned forward so Nick could feel the man's breath brushing its way across his lips. Nick tried to keep it together, but couldn't stop his eyes from widening in fear and panic.
"Hey! Get away from him!" Warrick pulled against the ropes though he knew it would be pointless. He didn't like the look Nick was getting in his brown eyes.
It took only a moment more, but the man eventually stood back up and took a step away from Nick. Warrick locked his eyes on his partner's face, but was relieved to see some of the panic disappear. Confusion and fear still were clear.
"You both have a lot for us to use and all I have is your files from work. We will begin simply."
"What files?"
"One of my followers walked right into your precious CSI lab and was able to get both your personal files right under your boss' nose."
Several of the people in the chairs stood abruptly and caused Nick to jump a little against his bonds. This was more than he could follow and he still didn't get how Tenner knew who Warrick was. The other man had never said a word about going to a church.
"Hey master," one of the other black figures in the room lifted a pale hand into the air, "Aren't we beginning too soon?"
Tenner turned and looked at the other person before turning his gaze back onto Warrick, "You are right. We have to wait, just a little longer."
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine sat in the tight backed chair as she waited for Grissom to show up for this little meeting that he pulled together. Greg was already there and he was munching away nervously on a candy bar. They had everything laid out on the table in front of them. Both were hoping Grissom would be able to put it all together so they would be able to get Nick and Warrick back from whoever took them.
It was hot in the room, but she wasn't willing to have the door left open for this one. Anyone might walk past. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the wooden top. Their boss was officially three minutes late to this meeting. She would give him two more before she would get the cell phone out. Then hell would be made to pay.
Greg tried to ignore the stress and tension that was rolling over him like a cement truck from Catherine, but it was hard. He wasn't used to this and didn't know what to say to make her feel better. Most likely he would say something and she would jump all over him. That was not something he would be able to handle right now.
The hand on the clock moved. One more minute. Catherine reached for her phone so she would be prepared when that hand moved again. He may be their boss, but Grissom needs to understand punctuality when it comes to something of this importance. There were no excuses in her mind at all for this.
As she prepared to speed dial, the door to the room opened slowly and Grissom slid his way into the room with no greeting or any sound at all. Four eyes, two stares remained glued to his figure as he walked to a chair and at himself down. He looked up to different expressions, but both with the same fear and uncertainly lying underneath all the other layers.
"Sorry, I know I am late to my own meeting so nothing needs to be said," he looked right into the glare he was getting from Catherine, "But I promise it was of importance."
"Do we get to learn about this great importance? After all, Greg and I have been waiting so patiently for you to arrive," Catherine's lip went up as she snapped at the man.
"Not yet."
It was simple and clear. Catherine felt the air rush from her lungs and felt her face relax from the snarl she could feel forming there. Her body leaned heavily back into the chair. She was lost again.
"So what is it you wanted the three of us to do here?"
"We need to put everything together so we can get our connections straight. The only way we will find Nick and Warrick quickly is if we get it all straightened out."
Greg leaned forward onto his elbows, "Okay, but where do we start?"
"I have always been one for beginnings myself," Grissom said as he reached for some papers. There was a lot to go over, but the start of everything began with the first two victims. He needed Mrs. White and now known Kevin Starr.
"Alright, let's begin with our two cases from this mess. We have Mrs. Sherie White who was burned in her own home with ignition with a lighter fluid. She was the start of the blaze and it has been documented as her COD. And from what we know, Kevin Starr was at the home for part of this process since he has the same fluid on parts of his body. But at some point, he was dragged from the house and put into a large vehicle."
"Yeah, from what I found from the database, it is most likely a conversion van," Greg added quickly.
"But the boy was alive for all of this. Mr. Charlie Johnson came in either from the start or at this point in this plan with his so-called wife's brother's dogs. Both these animals mauled and killed young Kevin. The boy's body was dropped at Freedom Park."
"By the same vehicle," Greg ruffled some papers in his search, "I looked over the pictures you took of the treads and they match perfectly to the ones in the White's yard."
Grissom nodded, "But at some point, Mr. Ralph White was murdered in a neighbor's hot tub. My guess is he was present for the murder of the other two and something went wrong. Maybe he regretted it and wanted to go to the cops, but whatever it was, he had to go. Or he may have been killed between his wife and Kevin. The timeline of the deaths is hard to place due to the causes."
"So, we know the three of them were all murdered about the same time, but where does our yellow paint vic come in?" Catherine scrunched up her forehead in thought.
"Oh, but we aren't done with the first three yet. The reason I was late is that I ran into Andrew on my way in and he gave me some new information that just came to light. He remembered talking with Brian Dubois in front of the White's house. The man played the concerned neighbor. He was left behind to make sure that the girl was dead. And Mr. Johnson made it so his kid along with his friends found the other victim to ensure death in that as well."
"The kids were used as a ploy to make sure we wouldn't go after Johnson because why would his kid find the body if he killed him. But he didn't think we would have those lists for the church," Greg pondered aloud.
"Exactly," Grissom moved to the front of his chair and rested his hands together on the table, "And once Andrew released Dubois and told him to go home with the others, the man went to his home and helped plan a new murder in his pool. Brett Mueller was drowned in the pool with yellow paint brought in on a large truck. But remember the watch that Nick found in the bottom of the Furber hot tub? Mia was able to get some skin samples from it and it was a match for Mueller. He had been present at Mr. White's murder. And we did find other tread marks on our second pass through the yard of Dubois home."
Greg nodded at the glance, "Matches the other two."
"And once the man was dead, he was moved into his car and placed away from the house. Dubois and others cleaned the pool. Though once again they didn't plan on us having the lists."
"So, White and Mueller were both present to at least one murder then ended up dead themselves. And now Dubois is worried someone is going to come after him and kill him as well. What do you think is making these people turn on themselves?" Catherine questioned.
Grissom shrugged and rubbed his hands together, "That I don't know yet. Neither man is talking to us anymore. Both are afraid and seeing how Mrs. Johnson is now also dead with her son missing, I believe Mr. Johnson would be next, as soon as he is released that is."
"Well, what is the big connection between all these people?" the newest CSI had too many different names running through his mind to keep it all clear.
"All of them are members or know members of the Church of Gods. They are all on the list and after talking with the minister, they are forced to connect to each other. But how it leads to murder I have yet to figure out."
The three all slumped back and left the silence hanging in the air. It was a lot to think about and sort through. They had no reason for members of whatever group this was to be killed by their fellow members. And for what purpose.
Catherine slapped her hands on the table, "I think we need to make another trip to that so-called church and have another chat with Tenner."
"That would make the most sense. Nothing from Nick's house is enough to have a name, but I am quite positive it has something to do with this group."
Chairs scrapped against the tile as their chairs were pushed out, but they were all stopped by a cell phone ringing. Each CSI reached for their phone and fumbled to get it open. It was Grissom's phone that was the target for the call.
Catherine and Greg stood to wait for the call to end. The blonde CSI watched her boss as he spoke to the person on the other end. Judging by the facial lines, it wasn't someone that Grissom knew. The man's answers were short and curt, nothing showing though. It was not comforting.
Grissom snapped his phone shut and closed his eyes, "I have to go alone."
"What!"
"It was a call from the station. Apparently someone has gotten in touch with Charlie Johnson so he would be able to make a call to me. I have to leave alone and go to the meeting place alone. Or they will send us Nick in a cardboard box."
TBC…