A/N: I know, I know! A day late and a dollar short, story of my life. sigh Good news is that I'm now doped up on allergy medication. lol
Disclaimer: Yes, I own them all! If you believe that, I've got some oceanfront property in Arizona to sell ya!
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For a moment, Catherine didn't know what to do or say. She couldn't believe her eyes. She had spent the last few shifts looking for this child. Finally, she had decided that she needed a break from it all and had headed home. Now it looked as if the job had beat her home.
All she could do was stare. The boy was standing there, on her lawn, with a bloody knife griped loosely in his hand. At first glance, it looked as if his clothes were caked with mud, but she realized that the mud was actually dried blood encrusted on his clothing. Her heart went out to the child, imagining what he had gone through, seeing his mother and brother murdered before him.
He stood there gazing back at her as if she were the shocking one. Suddenly he moved forward, approaching her with a strange little smile on his face. "Are you the cop lady?" He asked, looking to the gun and identification badge she wore on her hip.
"Yes. My name is Catherine. What's your name?" Catherine knelt down to be at the boy's level. He was just a little thing. He looked to be about six or seven, about the same age as the missing Lamarax boy. She felt a rush of joy stream through her at the thought. She had just about given up hope on finding him alive. She had spent the last few hours imagining horrible ways they were going to find his little body. Now, he was standing only a few feet before her, alive and well.
"Parker La……Morgan." His smile faltered a moment as he stumbled over the name. He frowned at her, and took a step back away from Catherine as if suspicious of her motives.
"Hi Parker. We've been looking for you. I'm very glad to see that you are okay. We were worried about you." Catherine smiled back at the boy, slowly easing her hand to the pocket that contained her cell phone. She glanced around nervously. It made her nervous to find the missing boy on her front lawn. When things started happening that easily, it usually meant that something terrible was about to happen.
Even though this was going through her mind, she was not prepared. She did not react quickly enough when the shadow crossed over her. Her gun remained fastened to her belt.
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Archie looked up to find Gil Grissom standing above him like a vulture about to swoop down on his prey. The man looked angry, and it took a lot to make the stolid man angry. Jim Brass came in quietly, looking just as angry. This wasn't a shock, for Brass was one who wore his emotions on display and was often irate. Brass shut the door behind him, coming to a stop a few feet behind Grissom, his hands resting on his hips.
Normally, either man glaring at him in such a way would make Archie nervous. He knew what they were after. Hodges had gone running to Grissom and they were here to play good cop/bad cop with Archie. The Asian had seen enough B-movies to know that he did not like the rules to this game. His eyes slanted towards the door, escape was impossible nor were there any witnesses nearby.
"Something I can do for you?" He questioned, aiming to sound as guiltless as possible. Neither man looked as if he were inclined to believe it.
"You know exactly why we're here, Archie." Grissom answered tranquilly, which sent a shiver down the video tech's spine. "Let's skip all the parts where you tell me a bunch of lies and get right to the part where you admit to knowing where my guys are."
"Okay…..skipping all the dishonesty, I can't tell you where they are, simply because I don't know where they are." Archie told him candidly.
"Are you telling us that you haven't been in contact with Nick, Greg or Warrick?" Brass demanded, the veins on his forehead starting to bulge, a sure sign that he was incensed.
"No, I'm not telling you that. That wasn't the question. The question…….no, the demand, was that I tell you where they were. As for being in contact….obviously you gentlemen suspect that, or you wouldn't be interrogating me." Archie acknowledged unenthusiastically. He didn't have a death wish, nor did he care to lose his job. He did not want to cause either man to grow too wound up. "I have been in contact. Or, they've been in contact with me. Nick called me yesterday."
"And you chose not to tell me?" Grissom demanded frigidly.
"I didn't feel that it was my place." Archie shrugged, trying not to show his nervousness. By the looks on their faces, he hadn't taken enough lessons from Warrick on the art of a poker face. "Had they wanted to contact you, they would have."
"I'm sure you know that I've misplaced three of my CSI's?" Grissom rumbled. "That they haven't been showing up for their shifts? That they are not answering their calls, nor are they at their homes?"
"Actually, only two. Nick is on Medical Leave." Archie corrected, immediately wishing he had not as Grissom sent daggers down at him through his cold blue eyes. Brass, temple pulsating in tune with his anger, stepped forward menacingly.
"Where are my guys?" Grissom demanded, his voice sounding as cold as ice itself. When Grissom's voice was like that, it was time to run for cover. Archie was a smart man; he knew when to give up.
"I don't know. Nick called me, said they needed my laptop. He had me meet a friend of his at a coffee shop. The friend took the computer. That's it. I never saw Nick nor the others. I do not know where they are! I swear!"
"Do you have a way of getting a hold of them?"
"Uh…." Archie didn't have a ready answer for that one. He could get in touch with them, and he knew these two men could easily get that answer out of him.
"Archie, It's important. I need Warrick to come back in. I need the guys." Grissom's voice lost the hard edge, it turned pleading.
"I have a number." Archie nodded, reaching for his phone.
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Joe hung up the phone and limped over to stand next to Greg. Everyone was watching as Warrick and Duncan sparred. The two Immortals had been battling for twenty minutes and there still wasn't a definite winner yet. They were equally skilled, it seemed. Duncan had the muscles to his favor, but Warrick made up for it in agility.
They had both drawn blood, but neither had managed to get the best of the other. Joe had watched Duncan in action enough to know that he wasn't going easy. He was giving it all he had; Warrick was just a vicious fighter. Joe was relieved that this was not a real battle.
"Adam? Can you get them to stop? We need to discuss something." Joe requested of the oldest Immortal. Joe knew better then to interrupt a swordfight. He liked what limbs he had, exactly where they were too much to do something as foolish as that. He didn't have any more limbs to spare as it was.
Without a word or even acknowledging that he had heard, Adam stepped forward, raising his sword to come between the two as they charged one another. Finding the third sword in the middle of their match caused the immediate cease to their battle. Finely toned chests heaving from the exertion, Warrick and Duncan focused their attention on the interloper. Neither of them looked to pleased with him.
"Seems that your battle is over. Call it a Draw?" Adam chirped with a grin. "We've got business at hand to discuss."
"What?" Warrick barked as he tried to catch his breath.
"I just got a call from Archie." Joe called their attention to himself. "He says your boss needs you. It's an emergency."
"Emergency?" Nick called out from the bed, where he had been resting. He pushed himself to a sitting position, only wincing slightly as his injury pulled.
"Your two women are missing. I explained that we have one of them, so only one of your women is missing." Joe announced bluntly.
"Catherine's missing?" Nick forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly.
"I just saw her a few hours ago." Sara frowned, reaching out to steady Nick, making it look as if she were seeking comfort from him.
"What happened to Cath?" Warrick shushed the others with a quick look in their direction. "When and where?"
"Her vehicle was found sitting in front of her house, but she never made it inside." Joe explained. "She was taken from her own house."
"It's him. I cannot wait anymore. I'm going after him!" Warrick roared. He turned towards the elevator, as if too charge out of the place.
"Warrick, calm down." Duncan stepped forward, taking a strong grip on the other man's shoulder. "That's what he wants. He wants you to go charging out after him, so he can sneak up on you. Look at all he's done…attacking Nick…..he obviously doesn't play by the rules. He's using your friend as bait. He's got a trap set for you. Take it slow; think this out before you go after him."
"And if he kills Cath while he's waiting?" Warrick snarled. "What do I tell her little daughter? Do I tell her 'sorry kid, I had to save my own bacon first?"
"We'll find where he's at." Adam cut in. "Get the woman out of there before he has a chance to use her against you."
"And what about Grissom? How do I explain to him why I have brought friends to a crime scene?" Warrick demanded feeling frustrated and angry. "I'm not ready to leave this place. I don't want to pick up and start over yet."
"We'll figure something out." Duncan promised with a shrug. "We'll get your boss out of the picture or we just relocate you for a few years. How does visiting me in Paris for a century or two sound?"
"Do I look amused, Mac?" Warrick sent a glare his way. "Because……I'm not!"
"What do you mean? I don't understand any of this?" Greg questioned. What do you mean a century in Paris?"
"If we are in a compromising position, we have to disappear. We have to vacate the area until the people that could recognize us are no longer around." Richie explained. "I died in Paris, a very public death, so I can't show my face there for a while."
"Well, I am not going to be exiled out of Vegas!" Warrick snarled, ending the conversation between the two men. "I'm not ready to end my life as Warrick Brown; CSI."
"We'll do what we can to prevent that." Adam promised.
