Day Three - Counting Down
"Okay, so a doctor, a lawyer, a judge and construction worker all walk into a bar," Deirdre said, without any real emotion in her voice. As scared as she was for herself and for all the others, she, like everyone else in the room, were getting tired of being taken with almost no notice and no knowledge if they were coming back to the break room or not. Besides, she was hungry and her energy was drained. "The bartender looks up in surprise and asks 'what is this, some type of joke?'"
"Ha ha," Nick told her glancing over at Greg, whom they had wrapped in a spare lab coat they had found and was asleep - but not unconscious - on the floor by the coffee table.
Catherine spoke up next as she stood up and got a mug of water for Sara, who was still drifting in and out of consciousness. "This guy's driving in the country, getting back to the city, when his car breaks down. "They heard Sara whisper a feeble 'thanks' before the older CSI continued, though still making sure that Sara wouldn't drop the cup. "He walks to the nearest house, borrows the farmer's phone and calls a tow truck. The only problem is, the tow trunk can't pick him up until the next day. Now this farmer is dead ugly but nice, so he tells this guy 'you can stay here for the night, but I'm warning you, if you lay a hand on my daughter I'll use the three worst Chinese tortures on you'. Well, the city guy gives the farmer this sort of smile and thinks 'oh, yeah, sure, if his daughter is even half as ugly as him, I'd have to be drunk to touch her'. Then he sees the farmer's daughter and, well, he thinks she's hot.
That night, the guy knocks up the farmer's daughter and then sneaks back into his own room, sure that the farmer won't know what he's done. He wakes up the next morning with this big rock on his chest. He laughs, thinking if this is one of the Chinese tortures, then there's really going to be nothing wrong and throws the rock out the window. As he throws it, he sees a note on the window sill that says 'your left testicle has been tied to that rock'. Well, he panics and jumps out the window after the rock. Then he sees another note written up against the side of the house. It says 'your other testicle has been tied to the bed post.'"
Warrick and Nick both groaned as Catherine finished the joke and Deirdre erupted into giggles. Sara smiled a bit, but Grissom just gave Catherine a look, shaking his head slightly.
Catherine raised her eyebrows at him in reply and said, "Alright then, Grissom, you tell a joke."
The supervisor seemed to think for a minute, before speaking up, a sly smile that none of them had seen before pasted on his face. "Alright. A guy goes to a pet store to buy his daughter a parrot for her birthday. She's been bugging him for a parrot for years and since he and his wife had divorced, he decides to give her something special.
So he gets the bird home, names it Polly and tries to get it to learn how to say 'hello'. The bird just looks at him, though, and says 'fuck you'" - the CSIs all looked at Grissom in surprise - "so he tells the bird 'no, hello' and the bird says 'fuck you'. The guys frowns at the bird and tells him 'you're a present for my daughter and you can't swear at her, so if you say that one more time, I'm sticking you in the freezer' and the bird says 'fuck you'. So, the guy, as promised, stuffs the bird in the freezer and sits on in front of the TV.
Well, he falls asleep and wakes up the next morning. He checks his watch and shouts 'oh, crap, I'm late for work!' He's almost out the door when he realizes that the parrot's still in the freezer, so he opens the freezer door grabs the bird, pulls it out and is about to leave when the parrot yells out 'wait!' He turns around and the bird says 'I'll - I'll say anything you want, I promise, I won't be mean to your daughter, I'll do anything. I just have one question'. The parrot looks up at him and asks 'what did the chicken do to make you so mad?'"
"Wow, Grissom telling a joke - and swearing." Deirdre said finally, wiping tears of laughter out of her eyes. "That was probably the best part of the joke, you know. Okay, 'Ricky, your turn."
Just as Warrick started to talk, though, the phone rang out through the crime lab for what must have been the sixth time that day.
"You've reached the Las Vegas Crime Lab. We're sorry but we can't take your call at this time…" Deirdre said, rolling her eyes and mimicking the answering machine as the phone stopped ringing and it kicked in. "How long is it gonna take Brass to realize that they don't feel like talking?"
"I just wonder what they want to talk about so badly," Grissom said, seeming to be thinking aloud.
…
50 hours. The nightshift had been held hostage for the last 50 hours. How many of them were still alive? How badly were they injured? How many would be able to recover from their injuries? How many would realize that the danger of being criminalists, no matter how remote it truly was, was too much for them? These unanswered questions ran through Brass' head as he half listened to Derranes explain details to the sheriff and mayor. It would take 10 more potentially deadly hours to bring in more SWAT members and prepare to force entry into the crime lab. Then, of course, they would have to wait even longer to find the safest time for both hostages and SWAT.
"Are you sure that we can't do anything before the extra SWAT get here?" Brass asked Derranes as the negotiator made his way once again to the communications tent. Over the last six hours, they had been trying to get a hold of the convicts, to try to get them to surrender peacefully. So far though, all their calls had been ignored.
"The most we can do is try to get them to give up the most severely injured hostages," Derranes answered, pressing the redial button on the phone and sighing as the answering machine kicked in. "Kristal, Wayne, pick up the phone. We have to talk. Just pick up the phone and hear me out, for everyone's safety. You won't have to die like this -"
"Okay, shut up," a voice crackled through the phone's ear-piece and the speakers that were connected. The voice was male, which was surprising, and unknown. The SWAT listening to the conversation automatically began trying to trace the voice. "This is about the 20th time you've called in the last five hours, but you don't seem to get it, even though Kristal's explained it to you. We don't care about dying, and we don't care if you die, 'cause it's your fault we have to do this to begin with. You people have to be taught a lesson; that nothing can happen without causing a reaction. Well, here's you a reaction, and I hope that you don't live to be able to deal with the rest of the consequences." Then before Derranes could say anything, the line went dead.
The negotiator sighed and pressed the redial button again only to receive the answering machine's automated reply. He tried two more times until a different male answered.
"There's nothing to say, so stop phoning us." the man said, and Brass recognized this voice. He grabbed a notepad and wrote out 'That's Wayne Rhighter', then handed it to Derranes, who quickly read the note and nodded.
"Wayne," Derranes began, before the convict could hang up. "I understand that you want nothing to do with us, but we can find some way to make a peaceful ending out of this mess. Surely you and your colleagues don't actually want to die?"
"If we cared about if we died or not," Wayne said shortly, "we wouldn't have done this."
"That doesn't answer my question, though."
"Well that's just too bad for you, now tell me what you want to talk about so badly or let us kill the hostages without distractions."
"Let a few people go in and see the hostages, to see how they're fairing."
Wayne snorted in laughter. "There's only one thing about your great plan. The people who come into this building aren't coming back out."
Brass grabbed the notepad again, but, before he truly knew what was happening, Derranes was ripping it from his hands and underlining the bold note YOU'RE NOT GOING IN. As he threw the notepad back at Brass, he asked, "Why can't they come back out? You already have a dozen hostages, anymore would just make it more difficult for you."
"Kristal said that she thought you were a 'smart fish', too. Use your brain, Todd, and figure it out."
Taking the phone away from his mouth, he sighed in frustration before bringing it back up and saying, "You could just wear your masks to keep us from learning who you are, if that's what you're worried about." He paused, thinking. "But that's not it, is it? You don't care whether or not our people come back out; Kristal just wants more targets."
"You think that Kristal's in control of all this?" Wayne burst out, obviously unable to control himself.
"She seems to be making all the decisions," Derranes told him mildly, his frustration not showing in his voice.
The convict scoffed. "If she was making the decisions, everyone, your friends included, would be dead by now."
"You two are close friends, though, introduced through Tyler. Why wouldn't you do something nice for her?" The answer was rhetorical, almost even as an afterthought, as the negotiator started scribbling on a notepad in quick hand. "But why are you doing this so publicly? You could have a much easier time picking off everyone in that building one by one, without the stress of being surrounded by police officers."
"Because, Todd, every one of us may be killers, may have stolen, but that doesn't mean we're cruel people. We have reasons for doing what we do, and we know that big, important lawmen like the CSIs here spend more time with their co-workers than they do their families - if they even have a family. We figured that we would show we're nice and let them have their last moments together, together."
"Now." The convict's tone of voice changed so much it was startling to Brass, though Derrranes seemed unfazed. "When is your back-up coming? You can't expect me to actually believe that you would wait like this while my friends and I have your precious criminalists in this building, after all."
The middle-aged man smirked slightly as he replied, 'That's up to you to find out, isn't it?' and hung up.
Brass didn't comment, only watched him as he absently handed the phone to a SWAT man and left the tent, reading what he had written and obviously thinking hard. He flipped the page and took a pencil out of his back pocket, then began writing again, muttering to himself. Brass didn't ask what he was saying; Derranes had done this a number of times before and the police captain knew better than to interrupt his musings.
"How much do you know about the crime lab?" Derranes asked him suddenly, looking up at him from his notepad.
He shrugged. "More than half the people that work there." For a second, Brass was about to ask why, but then didn't. It seemed obvious that Derranes was going to take up Wayne's offer of sending people into the lab.
"And you know the situation from an exterior view, the suspects and victims…" The police captain waited patiently until the negotiator spoke up again. "How would you like to take a walk into the Las Vegas crime lab with an EMT and SWAT member beside you?"
Brass' reply was predictable. He was quickly joined by none other than Sergeant Mackenzie and an EMT who had volunteered to come along after over-hearing their plans. They were quickly briefed on what to do and say to both the captors and captives and were reminded of what had happened up until that time.
Finished, they prepared to cross through the no-man zone that had been established around the crime lab, but were stopped by Derranes. He wanted to tell the convicts that they were taking them up on their 'offer' so they wouldn't be surprised and open fire, and if they would let even one hostage out.
He sighed as Caroline's recorded voice answered and began talking as that annoying beep sounded. "We've decided to take you up on your offer, Wayne, so pick up and we can sort out the details and -"
"What details are there?" Wayne asked, picking up the other line.
"There are three men willing to go into the crime lab. That's three more hostages for you, so I want one hostage out in return. You do remind me constantly that you are nice people, after all."
"You know what, Todd? Alright, but we're choosing who and the three men you've got are coming in first."
"My men aren't going in the building until we see the hostage, alive."
"Alright." Wayne said again before the line went dead.
No more than minutes later, the sight of a dead-looking Sara nearly made Brass physically ill as two masked convicts threw her down on the pavement in front of the lab. Her hair was a bloody mess, and bruises decorated her body. He watched as two EMTs loaded the female CSI up on a gurney and rolled her into a waiting ambulance, then, with a nod from Derranes and accompanied by McKenzie and the EMT by the name of Sheryl, he headed towards the awaiting masked figures.
The shorter of the two masked figures cackled when he saw him, and expertly patted him down. Finding nothing, he frisked Sheryl as his buddy checked McKenzie. They told them to keep their heads down - adding the infamous 'or else' at the end, none the less - and led them into the break room. Only Greg and Warrick were there, definitely looking worse for wear. Both were obviously surprised at seeing Brass walk into the room, followed by someone wearing a jacket with 'SWAT' on the back and an EMT carrying a first-aid kit.
"What - what are you doing here?" Greg asked, his voice slightly hoarse, not appearing to notice as the police captain stared at both CSIs in surprise and horrified shock.
"We've been able to make a deal with the convicts here and get one of your people, Ms. Sidle, out," McKenzie answered for him.
"Don't you think you were kinda ripped off?" Warrick questioned, a bitter smile on his face.
Brass shrugged as Sheryl began to check Greg over. "At least she's gotten to the hospital; what did they do to her?"
"Shot her with a dud." Greg's sentence ended with a hiss of pain as Sheryl found that he had a broken wrist. She carefully put it in a splint, knowing full well that it would probably be useless to put it in a cast while he was still being held hostage.
They filled the three newcomers in over the next hour and received the best news they thought they would ever hear in reply; SWAT was going to force entry into the lab in about 8 hours. Sheryl found the extent of both CSIs' injuries and treated them as well as she could, given the circumstances. Ironically, both were slightly dehydrated.
Not long after that, Paul and Scott unlocked the door and threw a bloody rag-doll version of Catherine into the room. Brass carefully lead her to the couch that both younger CSIs had abandoned for her and she was given some Advil from Sheryl's first-aid kit to take the edge off her pain.
At five hours to go, Grissom and Nick entered the break room, the older CSI supporting the younger as he limped into the room. They immediately asked where Sara was and were both visibly relieved by the answer, as if they were happy about how she had gotten out. Nick, too, got an Advil from Sheryl.
At only three hours to go, they threw a crying and somewhat distraught Deirdre into the room, then took Warrick. The dark CSI glanced down at Deirdre, obviously wanting to know what was wrong and to comfort her, but in the end left without the convicts using force to make him.
Greg was at Deirdre's side before even Brass, and asking what had happened as he helped her as best he could with a splinted wrist and bruised ribs to sit down against a cupboard door. Everyone's eyes were on the two techs, but Deirdre at least seemed oblivious as she sobbed into Greg's shoulder.
She cried herself to sleep, but awoke with a start not even an hour later by the same rattling of the door she had heard countless of times before. Wayne came in with Graham and Brent, all three grinning boldly as they grabbed McKenzie. Being the last one to leave the room, Brent gave Greg the same grin that Tyler had given Deirdre, making the tech shiver and look away . He hoped that what Deirdre had said before was still true; that she wouldn't be having too many nightmares. They both didn't need to be startled night after night out of sleep as he knew he would.
Greg sighed and stood up, stretching his back slightly before grabbing two mugs and getting himself and Deirdre some water, hoping that they would bring Warrick and McKenzie back into the break room before SWAT forced entry into the lab. The room was silent, since there was nothing to say or discussed that hadn't been spoken of at least half a dozen times before.
"How long?" Grissom asked Brass suddenly. The police captain was the only one with a working watch, all the CSIs' watches having been broken or taken.
"Two more hours," Brass said quietly. The convicts knowing when the extra SWAT teams arrived was one of the last things anyone wanted them to know.
"Do you -?" Deirdre began after accepting the water from Greg with a thanks. She was interrupted, though, by a loud resounding blast - the unmistakable sound of a rifle going off. Catherine, who had also fallen asleep but who didn't wake up when Wayne and his pals had opened the door, woke with a start and would have fallen off the couch if Grissom hadn't reached out and saved her from that fate. The nearly full mug Deirdre was holding fell to the floor with a crash as it slipped from her numb fingers, but no one noticed as it exploded on the tile, water splattering all over the cupboards and floor.
They all watched the door expectantly, hopeful but, at the same time, fearful of what they would find if the door was opened. Everyone wanted for both McKenzie and Warrick to enter the room, no worse than how they had been when they left or for a SWAT team to force it open and bring them all out of the hell that had once been, to most of them, a work place.
The last thing they expected, even now, was an explosion from the garage that rocked the building and caused dust to fall from the roof. Gunfire erupted from out in the halls deafening them all.
Brass was the only one grinning and when Catherine gave him a look and asked at a yell what was so funny, the police captain just tapped his watch.
The count down to the end of their personal hell was over…
…
And there you guys have it: another chapter. Sorry it took this long to get out, but I won't go into detail… Unless you want me to. Would you like me to?
Nah, I'm just joking. Don't forget to review, though, or this story might end up like my other story, and that would be really not a good thing right now 'cause I'm just that close to being finished. Plus, then you guys finally get answers to your reviews. Normally, I would answer at the end of each chapter, but in this story, I didn't. Don't asked me why…
Dutch kisses, and Happy Birthday to my Opa,
xCxBxBx