Trapped 5
by Nicol Leoraine
The body of the guard was laying in the heap of boxes and crates and Brass contemplated if he should risk contaminating the scene or not. He was troubled by the loss of connection, especially that Jenkins wasn´t responding. Due to the fact that this was a research facility, there could be a little more sophisticated security system with shields built in the walls or as simple a thing as a jammer. At least it would explain the No Signal part. But Brass still needed to get Grissom to process the body, as well as get out and try to call the coroner and a few other guys.
Kevin was practically jumping out of his skin. He couldn´t understand how could Brass be so calm about the body. He felt as if he could get sick at anytime, and he swalloved several times to try and stop the nausea. Just the scent of blood was making him feel caged. He wanted out and quick, but the detective looked frozen in place, only the flashlight moving up and down the body, as if he was conducting an examination. In a way, it was right what Brass did. He didn´t want to contaminate the body, but he still needed to know what happened. It would be preferable to also know who was the killer and where was he - or if he was still there. Not possible, but Brass had been around one CSI a little too long and he knew everything could speak.
And the body before him was speaking. He just didn´t like what he heard.
The man´s uniform identified him as Jack Cobless - one of the guards. By the short description Brass got from the Security company in Henderson, he could only agree with the nametag. Jack Cobless was described to him to be fifty-two years old, with graying hair and beard, which was in stark contrast to his dark skin. As Brass looked at him, he could only guess which of the wounds killed the man first, though he probably died of blood loss. Getting as close as he could without literally touching the body, Brass saw the deep slashes across the man´s wrist and the torn clothes. It looked like someone attacked him with knife, but it was a messy attack. With a lot of blood involved.
As he leaned closer, Brass started frowning. Pointing the flashlight at the face, he focused on the mouth. It was just slightly open, giving the impression that the man was about to speak, or that there would be a snore coming. At first, he thought it was due to the post mortem stiffness or whatever the hell Robbins called it, but then the light shone back into his own face, mirrored from the glistening material embedded in Jack Cobless mouth. Brass picked out a set of gloves and put them on, not caring much if Grissom would have his hide for manipulating the body or not. His focus was solely on the body and he didn´t hear Kevin shuffling behind him, staring over his shoulder.
All he saw was the triangular hat badge. He couldn´t see what was on it because of the blood it was covered with, but it was enough.
"Duty, Honor, Fidelity," Brass mumbled, for once feeling his own stomach lurch. He abruptly stood and turned away from the body, feeling the long forgotten coldness creep inside him. The motion was so fast that Kevin jumped, then ungracefully fell on his backside as he stumbled over the box. He awaited a comment or a snarl from the detective, but to his surprise all he got was a silent hand helping him up. More shocked by the silence than the gesture, Kevin gaped at his supervisor.
"Are you allright, sir?"
Brass blinked, trying to recollect his thoughts, however hard that could be. He still felt numb but at least he managed to scowl at the rookie.
"Why shouldn´t I be? You´re the one falling on hisass." It was hard and under normal circumstances Brass would never talk to a rookie - to any cop - like that. But today wasn´t a normal day by any means and his nerves were being strained by every damned blink of the lights, by every damned thought of the past.
"Hell, I'll apologize to the kid once we're finished. We have no time for this now," Brass thought and headed toward the exit. Somewhat reluctantly, Kevin followed. They were by the door when Kevin stopped and cleared his throat. He wanted to ask something and Brass almost rolled his eyes.
"What?" he asked instead and turned to the young man.
"I just... You want to leave the body alone?" Kevin threw a nervous glance back.
"Rather the body than you, sergeant," Brass bit back rather harshly.
At any other time, Brass would have approved the courage, but right now he had other issues to deal with.
"But... what if someone tampers with the body?" Kevin finally stuttered.
A raised eyebrow was all the reply he got.
"We need to summon Grissom and Nick. I also want to know why Jenkins doesn´t reply to the radio, and what the hell is wrong with the damn lights!" At the last, Brass cringed, the constant blinking grating on his already frayed nerves. Seeing this, Kevin decided to shut up and leave the case in the capable hands of the famous Detective Brass. As if he had any other choice in the matter.
xxxxxxx
Sara was angry. The damn chair was probably stolen from some hospital, she thought as her back cramped in protest. She couldn´t move, hell, she couldn´t even talk.
What made her furious though were the crazy chuckles coming from her captor as they both watched Grissom´s efforts to revive Nick. She wanted to scream when she saw it and she couldn´t even describe the relief when Nick came to himself. But what made her blood boil was the obvious pleasure the man got from the suffering of her friends.
When the scene ended, the monitors blinked back with a new one. Sara watched as Grissom tried in vain to open the door to the staircase, she saw Nick´s face screw up in pain when he involuntarily touched the wall with his burnt hand. She cringed with him, then frowned as she realised that the captor was no longer watching the monitor, but her.
For the first time she got a really good look at him and she didn´t like it. As a lot of other killers, this one had a regular face. No scars, no warning printed on his forehead that he was a freak. Only the cold eyes and the constant twitch in his right eye were something out of the ordinary. But if Sara had saw him on the street with sunglasses on, she would have thought he was just a normal guy.
He was watching her and suddenly she felt like one of Grissom´s bugs. She couldn´t hide the shiver and it made him smile for a second, then as suddenly as he caught her, his face was a mask of stone. No emotion whatsoever.
"I think you´re wondering who I am. Or what I want." He waited and Sara cursed him. Of course it made it through her sealed lips only as a grumble and the man snorted.
"Well, if you think I will start spilling out my guts to you and tell you all about my plans, you will be disappointed. But... that doesn´t mean I won´t talk. After all, I could use some friendly company, as we will be here a little longer." Seeing the question in her eyes, the man winked and without more explanation turned back to the monitors and once again replayed the scene with Brass and Kevin.
Sara frowned. Why was he so absorbed with it? She watched with growing interest as the man started playing with the computer and turned his attention fully on the body. He took special time to enlarge the section with Brass examining the body and he paused it on the detective´s face when he discovered the shining thing in the dead man´s mouth.
And seeing the detective´s face Sara realized that Brass knew. Somehow, the detective knew what this was all about and seeing the fear in his eyes, the thight set of his jaws and the following harsh words toward the rookie, Sara knew it didn´t make the situation any better. Because if Brass was scared, it had to be bad.
xxxx
"Aw, shit!" Nick didn´t curse often but it seemed like he wasn´t doing anything else in the last few minutes. At least he thought so, but in reality most of the cursing he managed to keep inside. But when his hand touched the fabric of his shirt for the third time, increasing the burning sensation, he couldn´t stop it again. Now he looked up, a little ashamed.
"Damn it, I'm acting like some stupid kid," Nick thought but hell, it hurt and it wasn´t getting any better.
"We should find some water or at least a first aid kit," Grissom spoke and left the door. They were opening towards them so there was no way they could kick them open, not to mention they were steel. And anyway, neither of them was in physical shape to do so. While Grissom was fairly okay, only little sore from the fall when he tackled Nick, his shoulder wasn´t doing so good. Although not dislocated, it was surely bruised and painful. No throwing himself at anything hard in the near future.
"I should´ve taken care of it first, but I thought we could get to the car. Come on, there should be some bathrooms, with running water. Maybe we can find a first aid kit."
"Shouldn´t lose time with that," Nick mumbled, angry at himself. Damn, why hadn´t he seen the wires? And to top it off, now he was slowing Grissom down, even though they should try to warn the others. Were they even alive?
"Nick!" Grissom didn´t like the far away look Nick had, nor the angry lines. He didn´t planned to shout, but being fairly shaken by the recent events, Grissom´s nerves weren´t in much better shape than Nick´s.
"Huh?" the man in question jerked, then hissed.
"There aren´t many ways to get out of this building. We could be here for some time, facing other traps. I need you in the best possible shape. That means taking care of that hand. It´s not lost time."
He watched as Nick processed what was said, then slowly nodded, looking more lucid. Grissom still supressed the urge to reach out and check his pulse, just to make sure it was there.
"Do you think they´re alright?" Nick spoke all of a sudden and Grissom heard the concern in his voice.
"I hope so," was all he said. They were slowly moving down the corridor, pausing at each door, checking it for wires, even though they didn´t risk trying to open them. Grissom read every nampelate and discovered another two "wired" doors. The rest were clear. They reached another corner when Nick paused. Grissom thought he saw him sway and without asking grabbed his shoulder. Nick leaned into it somewhatawkwardly, looking around squinting.
"What´s wrong, Nick?" Grissom asked, getting worried.
Nick swallowed and slightly shook his head.
"I'm okay," he mumbled and straightened. "But I think we´re being watched."
Grissom´s eyes narrowed and he fought the urge to turn and look, but he did get a hold on his gun.
"N-no, not like that. At least-" Nick shook his head. "There are cameras in every corner. It´s hard to spot them now, but I saw them earlier in the lobby. I would say it´s a closed circuit TV."
"It doesn´t have to be turned on," Grissom said, trying to look as relaxed as it was possible. Nick merely shrugged.
"A moment ago, the camera above the elevators moved. If not for those stupid flickering lights, I wouldn´t have seen it. And if it moved, someone had to tell the computer to do it."
"There was a security room right in the lobby. Maybe Sara or Brass?"
"Don´t have a feeling it´s them. The whole thing with the power outage, those lights, the closed doors... it looks like someone made arrangements."
Grissom acknowledged him with a slight quirk of his head, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted - a typical picture of Gil Grissom deep in thoughts.
"If it´s none of us, then the suspect is still in the building. Maybe in the lobby, but it would be more likely somewhere else - where it´s hard to get."
"The laboratories?" Nick offered and Grissom thought it over, giving a half-shrug, conscious of his bad shoulder.
"The whole electricity thing is weird," Nick mumbled and Grissom shot him a look.
"I believe it´s more to take control over us than anything else."
"What about the lights? Are they acting up on their own?"
"It´s a psychological move, Nick. It makes you wary at every step. It elevates the stress factor, not to say it can cause a pretty bad headache," saying that Grissom rubbed the bridge of his nose and Nick shot him a sympathetic smile. Even from the moment he came back to consciousness, the headache was one of the things troubling him, but he wasn´t sure if it was due to the electric shock or if he just hit it in the fall.
Nick could see Grissom watched his every step but still couldn´t accept the fact he was dead - even if just for a moment. The only thing he remembered was the pain and the lightning images in his head, as if it was the fourth of Juny. No tunnel with a light at the end, or long dead relatives waiting for him.
"Nick? I think we found it," Grissom´s voice stopped him in front of the bathroom. The older man was already checking the handle but there was no slot on it. Guess they didn´t need to identify themselves when going to take a leak, Nick smirked, earning a confused look from Grissom. He ignored it.
"Shall we take a look?"
"Be my guest," Nick said and watched with dread as Grissom first touched the handle with the back of his hand. Nothing happened and with a relieved sigh, Grissom opened the door. Nick followed him inside, to the nearest sink.
At first Nick hissed when the cold water hit his hand, but the pain dulled, the coldness numbing the appendage. Relishing it, Nick didn´t realize Grissom left until he heard the door closing. Turning in fright, he saw Grissom with a first aid kit and a triumphant smile.
"Where did you go?" Nick snapped, suddenly angry at himself as well as Grissom. Didn´t the man know there was some freak in the building? And he walked off alone!
The smile on Grissom´s face was replaced by a serious expression.
"I saw another room next to this, the door wasn´t locked. It was a broom locket, but I found a first aid kit there, as well as this." And he hold up a pair of yellow rubber gloves, probably used by the cleaning staff.
"They're thicker than the gloves we use, should prevent another shock."
"Great," Nick mumbled. "They didn´t have any other color?"
Grissom ignored the gibe and opened the kit, looking through it. He found some tylenol but to his disappointment, it was long after the expiration date as well as everything else. The only thing he could use without risk were the bandages.
"How´s the hand?" he enquired, looking at the hand when Nick pulled it from the water. It was swollen and angry red, while the palm was covered with several blisters - none of them were broken though. Although the water cooled down the skin and numbed the hand, Grissom knew that if Nick didn´t get medical attention soon, the pain would be bad. The other thing Grissom feared was the risk of infection.
"Doesn´t hurt so bad," Nick replied to the question, seeing the concern in the older man´s face. He too was concerned, but more by the sudden lightheadedness. Unnoticed by Grissom, Nick leaned on the sink for support while he put the burned hand back under the water for a moment longer.
"I am not going to faint," he repeated himself several times, until the black spots in his vision vanished and he could see clearly again. Sighing in relief, Nick turned off the water. He was for once thankful for the coldness that momentarily took away the pain, as he was sure the bandaging would hurt.
Two minutes later, Nick held the bandaged hand to his chest, mumbling his thanks to Grissom.
"You´re welcome. But if you can, keep the hand elevated - it should help with the swelling and the pain."
"Okay. Where do we go from here?" Nick asked as they left the bathroom and looked around the corridor. They stood there and knew there were only two ways out - and the staircase was blocked. Thus, there remained only the elevators. But they weren´t working when they arrived and surely won´t be working now, with the lights flickering.
Something was humming though, a familiar sound to anyone living on upper floors, waiting for an elevator. Grissom and Nick exchanged looks and turned the corner just in time to hear a ping and see the door opening. They reacted instinctively. Grissom pointed his gun toward the elevator while Nick, unable to use his hand, pushed himself to the wall to make as small a target as possible.
They waited.
TO BE CONTINUED