Note: hey there everyone! not much to say...hope you're enjoying this. This chapter has a bit more action in it...and i work abit with Nick's bilingual skills...hope it goes over well! Thanks again for the reviews!

Chapter Three

They had expected one body.

They were met with three.

The two criminalists and detective stood near the perimeter of the scene silently taking in the chaos before them. The park was dark; no lighting around the perimeter would make it hard for them to gather evidence. The bodies of the victims lay about ten feet in front of them in shadow, two bodies face down on the ground, the other on his back. They had tried to run, to get out of the path of the gunfire. Blood pooled beneath each body, now, nearly becoming one large pool due to the closeness of the bodies' positions. They hadn't been able to run far. There was a lot of blood.

"So, what happened?" Warrick asked his eyes glued to the scene before him.

"Witnesses aren't talking," Vega shook his head. "You want my guess? The Rollin' 60's."

"The what?" the tall CSI asked this time facing the short detective.

"It's uh…" Nick chimed in, "a Hispanic gang. They started in L.A several years ago. They've slowly made their way to Vegas. They're pretty rough, heavy into drug trafficking."

Detective Vega nodded his head in accord with Nicks information.

"So, do they expect us to believe they didn't see anything or are they just afraid to talk?" Warrick asked motioning to the growing crowd of people on the other side of the crime scene tape.

"Take your pick," Vega shrugged. "Most of these people probably didn't come out until after the gunfire quit," he said walking with the CSIs over to the bodies. "This guy must have been the target," he said standing over the body of a male in his early twenties.

"Ah man," Nick said crouching near the other two bodies. "These guys are just kids," he shook his head taking in the appearance of the two younger boys. They couldn't be any older than fifteen or sixteen.

"What's that in the kid's hand?" Warrick asked pulling out his Maglite and illuminating the hand of the victim closest to Nick.

Nick reached over, careful not to move the bodies, and gingerly pulled out the object in the kid's hand.

"Holy…"he trailed off, shining his own Maglite on the substance. "This looks like pure crystal meth," he let out a low whistle.

"This guy a dealer?" Warrick asked motioning with his head toward the older victim.

"Could be," Nick nodded as David Phillips arrived on the scene.

"Hey guys," he said quickly getting down to business.

"Hey Super Dave," Nick nodded from his crouched position. He slowly moved out of the way allowing the assistant coroner to do his job. He and Warrick stood to the side, beginning the process of collecting evidence around the bodies.

"There's no ID on the victim," David said patting down the first victim. "He looks to be around fifteen. Looks like he took three gunshots to the back," he continued taking the boy's liver temp. "I'd say he's been dead around three hours. I'll know more once I get them to the morgue."

"Hey, Dave, can you roll the body?" Warrick asked shining his light around the victim. He'd seen something sticking out from under the body.

"Sure," he nodded.

"It's what I thought," the CSI nodded bending to collect the evidence of interest.

"What have you got?" Nick asked.

"A 38 Special." Warrick held up the weapon. "The chamber's empty."

"What kind of kid packs an empty gun to a drug deal?" Nick asked.

"He fired back," Warrick said as the group of bystanders quickly became unsettled. There was shouting crying coming from the group as the mothers of the teenage victims arrived on the scene.

"¡Oh mi dios¡Mi bebé¡No mi bebé!"

" Usted bastardos. Usted no cuida sobre los hispanos. ¡Usted conseguirá el tuyo!"

Nick quickly turned to take in the commotion as detective Vega tried to make his way toward the near mob scene. The man looked small in comparison.

"Tenemos todo bajo control. Por favor, llanura tranquila," the detective began to say, his best attempt at calming the grieving mothers.

"What are they saying?" Warrick asked trying his best to work the scene.

"Vega's assuring them we have it under control."

"Yeah, what are they saying?"

"Ah, that's a little more animated. That lady must be the mother of a victim. That guy?" Nick pointed discretely toward a rather large man, most likely a relative of the victims. "He's saying we don't care about the Hispanics."

"Yeah, I've heard that before," Warrick nodded as David zipped up the last body bag and took the body to the awaiting vehicle.

"Oh, Super Dave, any bullets…"Nick trailed off.

"You got it," the slightly awkward man nodded sidestepping the blood pools and crossing under the tape.

"Let's get to work," Warrick sighed picking up his field kit.

Nick nodded, taking his own kit and working in the opposite direction of his partner.

Bullets, he'd only seen that many bullets in one other crime scene. It was something he'd hoped to never run across again.

"You said the kid was packing a 38 Special?" Nick asked as he looked at a bullet in his forceps.

"Yeah," Warrick said.

"Any of the other's packing?"

"Uh, nothing was on them," he shook his head. Why?"

"I got a 22 caliber casing here…" he trailed off searching the ground around him. "Hang on a second. Check this out," he said holding up another gun.

Nick resumed his search and gather in silence. His Maglite was of little help as the night wore on. The darkness growing, working against them as clouds slowly rolled in covering the moon.

Vega busied himself working to get information from the people on the scene. It seemed a futile attempt, as Nick noted the fear in many of their eyes. Gang violence was one the main causes of unsolved cases in Vegas. People were too scared to speak up, or they were killed before they could.

Nearly two hours had passed and the CSIs were only about a quarter of the way through the messy crime scene. Nick slowly stood, rolling his neck, stretching his muscles. He looked over at Warrick. He was busy with his own set of shell casing. Vega was still working the crowd, hoping to get information from possible witnesses. No one noticed the car slowly rolling onto the scene.

The quiet air was suddenly filled with the horrifying blast of gunfire. Screams filled the air. His senses were on high alert, as Nick hit the ground, doing his best to take in his surroundings. He stole a glance to Warrick, who also lay on the ground, his eyes wide, taking in all he could. The beat cops, quickly pulled out their weapons, firing back at the vehicle.

What the hell?

Things were in slow motion as his eyes fell on the crowd. Many of the passersby had scattered, some had taken refuge on the ground. Nick quickly scanned the crowd for the detective. Finding the man, assured he was okay, his eyes quickly followed the direction of the sound of the gunfire. His eyes fell upon the car from which the eruption of silence had occurred as it quickly sped off down the road, away from the scene.

"Nicky!" Warrick called out from his position a few feet away. "Are you okay?"

"Vega!" Nick called out with a nod to his partner. "Vega!" he called again not getting a response. "Damn it!" he said getting to his feet, jogging over to the detective. "Vega," he said now on top of the detective. He too lay face down on the ground, as the CSIs had done when all hell had broken loose. "Vega," he said kneeling beside the man. There was no response.

Nick slowly touched the man's shoulder, rolling him over onto his back.

"We need an ambulance!" Nick called as Warrick quickly joined him across the grounds. "He's hit," he said placing a hand on the single gunshot wound to the detectives shoulder.

The man moaned in pain, slowly coming to as Nick put pressure on the profusely bleeding wound.

"Patrol, request immediate backup. Immediate backup. Officer down. I need emergency medical assistance!" he said into his radio.

"Hang in there man," Nick said maintaining pressure on the man's wound.

The CSIs stood silent, watching the ambulance roll away, the red and white lights flashing, filling the dark with the eerie glow. Chills traveled the length of Warrick's spine, his mind taking him back to the summer before, and further even to years ago.

"Guess we better finish this up," Nick spoke up slowly, the ambulance now out of their line of sight as it turned the corner.

"Yeah," Warrick nodded turning to the scene once more. "Hey, take a look at this," he said motioning Nick to follow him. "I found this just before hell's fury."

"What have you got?"

"A bandana," he held up the piece of fabric. "I found a couple hairs in it, the follicular tag still attached to one of them. There's also a blood stain on it."

"Could be a calling card," Nick offered a bag for Warrick to place the evidence.

"A calling card? What like the punks' are letting us know who did this?"

"They do it all the time," Nick nodded. "Look at the color."

"North Carolina blue."

"The Rollin' 60's use this color as their calling card," Nick nodded.

"Could have picked a better color," Warrick smirked as Nick placed the bagged evidence in his field kit. "Man, I hate the Tar Heels."

"Yeah, well I'm not so sure it has to do with the Southeastern Conference, man," Nick smiled. "I was noticing the community center. Check out all the tags on the building."

"RSC, R60's, Rich Rollin' 60's," Warrick read off taking in the spray paint covered building.

"The gang must run the neighborhood. They're all over the place."

"So you're thinking this is more than a drug deal gone bad," Warrick said his hands on his hips.

"I've heard the 60's are deep into the Mexican drug cartel, and I mean deep," Nick nodded.

"Damn," Warrick sighed turning his back on the building to survey the evidence of the ground war that had recently taken place. "So, what's next?"

"I'll work on the blood evidence," Nick sighed stopping to change his gloves. He stopped abruptly, taking in the sight of his blood covered hands.

"Hey, man, he's gonna be fine," Warrick said noticing his partner's hesitation. "It was a through and through. He'll be sore for a while, but he'll be fine, bro."

"Yeah," Nick nodded taking off his gloves placing them in their own evidence bag. "Let's get this done," he said snapping on a clean pair and walking toward the epicenter of the scene.

The blood pool was almost massive. The three victims must have bled out as they waited for help. Help that didn't come.

The Hispanic population of Vegas was growing. It was quite possibly the fastest growing population of the town. The accusations that the police didn't care about the Hispanic community were not unheard of. Many times such comments went in one ear and out the other.

"Hey guys, you want to tell me what's going on?" Detective Cavaliere asked walking across the scene.

"Detective, watch where you're walking," Nick shook his head pointing out the blood he was about to walk through. "We're gonna be a while," he said his attention back on the blood pool in front of him.

"Have you talked to the witnesses?" Warrick asked continuing his work collecting shell casings and bullets.

"Just finished that up. Looks like Vega got a good start, and the witnesses that were left took a dive and ran off once they heard gunfire."

"Not surprising," Nick said looking at the now slim crowd of onlookers.

"Did anyone get a look at the vehicle?" the detective asked.

"A black Buick, tinted windows," Nick said his attention focused on the job at hand.

"It was pretty dark. You sure it was black?"

The CSI cast a glare up at the detective. Taking the hint, the detective silently wrote down the information. The two never had really gotten along. The last time they'd worked closely, they'd nearly torn each other apart. It was clear the two would prefer working with anyone but each other.

"Did you happen to get a plate number?" he asked doing his best to keep his tone cordial.

"355 JDC," Nick replied matter-of-factly.

"You sure about that. I mean, there was a lot going on."

"Look man, I got the plate. It's right," Nick stood now, ready to take on the detective.

"Look Stokes!" the detective said pointing a finger to the CSI's chest, "I don't need you getting in my face. We're all upset about Vega but it's no reason for you be an ass about me doing my job."

"You doing your job?" the CSI asked incredulously, "That'd be a first," he smirked.

"Hey guys," Warrick stood quickly intervening the onset of a rumble between the two. "We're all on the same team here. Let's finishing processing the scene and then get out of here, huh?"

Nick slowly returned to his task, the detective walking to his vehicle to radio in the license plate numbers.

"Damn, Nicky, use some of that anger for a good cause. We won't get anywhere fighting with that guy," Warrick motioned toward the retreating form of Cavaliere.

The CSIs worked again in silence finishing their job and gathering their supplies.

It had been almost four hours since they'd arrived on the scene.

Exhausted, but just in the beginning of their job, the CSIs returned to their vehicle. Loading the evidence in the back, they silently climbed into the front and quietly rode back to the lab.

"I'll get this stuff to DNA," Nick said grabbing up the bandana and hair evidence. "Maybe we can get a profile on a suspect."

"Yeah, I'll drop this stuff off with Bobby and I'll meet you in the layout room."

The CSIs went their own ways once inside the lab.

Tempers were flaring, answers were far reaching and Nick was getting a headache. The continued buzzing of his cell phone, the constant beckoning of his mother not helping matters at all.