Summary: There's evil once again in the city of sin. Whatever happens in Vegas…might just kill ya.
Timeline: Sequel to Poisonous Fear (recommended that one is read first), Early/Mid Season Six
Spoilers: Grave Danger, Bodies in Motion, Shooting Stars, Gum Drops, Daddy's Little Girl, several references to other episodes
Disclaimer: This is all written in fun. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and the 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.
Title: To Whom It May Concern
By: duffshel
Author's Note: Yes, I know. I'm late. Had a fight with real life and well, it won. Long story short, I hate spider bites and hospitals. Anyways, here's a nice long chapter for the wait. I pounded something out in it a little more and I hope it makes plenty of sense. Thanks for sticking with me as always. And, if you got some time, let me hear from ya! More soon. Bye!
Chapter 27:
Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive.
-Elbert Hubbard
Nick hummed as he walked. He was cold. It was settling into his joints, making them feel old and tired as he moved. But they kept him at it. They were taking him back to the room with the lights. Nick couldn't really remember at that moment why those were important, but they were.
The shorter, older man was in front of him. He would glace back at the CSI every now and then. That smile was sly, almost seductive. It made Nick nauseous, queasy at the thought. All he wanted to do was turn and run. But he couldn't do that. Not here and now.
It seemed like miles. His feet were heavy, weighted down with sloshing cold water filling his boots. Thoughts went in and out of his head at rapid speed. The world around him went in and out, shifting to places far away. Nick would have sworn it was the Twilight Zone. But he was more tempted to go with the horrible story of his own life.
His eyes answered the question for him first as to when they were going to finally reach that damn room. For another lost moment, Nick could see a bright light, his own feet twitching away in front of it. It kept all fresh air away from him. Nick gasped, his frozen hand reaching up to slam into his chest. There was nothing, but dirt and ants now.
"Well, it would see the room is working quicker than even I had hoped. I figured it would have taken at least two days for this kind of reaction. Even I didn't know you had it so rough down there in that hell."
Nick gasped again, his vision completely white. There were hands on his arms, but they weren't trying to help him out, trying to turn out that light. No, these were holding him into place, offering him on a platter to the ants and their poison.
One of those hands got a little rough with him. The nails dug into the soft flesh of his underarm. It shook him out of his lost memories. Nick gasped again, this time from the latest cruelty he was subject to. Now he could see that the light was larger, higher. He wasn't on his back. And Warrick looked down right panicked.
"I'm okay," Nick pushed out in a wheeze, coughing a little behind it.
Warrick's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say what really wished to, "Good to hear it."
"Yes, yes," Tenner got all dramatic, his arms sweeping outwards, "We're all glad to hear it. Now, let's get back down to business."
Letting his body be moved, Nick simply worked on getting one chilled foot in front of the other. Beneath the sudden heat the lamp provided, he could feel the weight of Warrick's stare. It was comforting to know the other man was there and able to give him that annoying look. Nick knew that meant Warrick was still hanging in there.
"What? You give him a shower or something?"
"Something," Tenner sneered and sat in his own chair to wait as his two hands worked away at getting Nick secured once more in the only open chair left in the room. One light was still the only one on. Tenner couldn't handle the glare from all three of them himself. It was too much for his older eyes.
"Informative. Now, how about some real answers?" Warrick sneered.
"I've been giving you real answers the entire time. I can't help it if you don't wish to absorb them into your brain. That's something I can't help."
"I'd like to know exactly when you went insane."
The two men tore their glares off each other at the soft statement to look at the chilled man that made it. Warrick couldn't help, but to smile at the defiance he could see Nick trying to build up to use against these people. And it was an answer he really wanted to know himself.
Tenner turned on his chair so he was facing Nick directly, "Now why would you ask your host such a question? I've never been saner as I've been right now. Things are perfectly clear and I can finally see my true place in the universe."
"Must have a map that no one knows about then," Warrick leaned back as best he could with his arms still twisted up behind him, "Cause I ain't never heard of some crazy shit like from someone other than a person locked up in a white armless jacket."
"I understand this might beyond your reasoning Mr. Brown, but I cannot take the time to explain it all to you. If you were willing to come with us, join us, then we would have all the time in the world."
"'Til ya convince me to put a bullet in my brain!" Warrick proceeded to ignore the slight twitch that Nick gave at the comment.
"Only if you were to make a mistake. But as a crime scene investigator, I'd hope you would be beyond stupid, pointless mistakes at this point. I'm sure we could get around you putting a bullet into your head. But, I never say never."
Nick coughed a little, his lungs sounding thick, "Sounds like we're in Neverland."
It was a comment that even shut Tenner up. But Warrick didn't like the calculating smile he sent in Nick's direction. It was colder than even before and it made him even more nervous. And Nick didn't even seem to notice it, lost in the chills that he was in.
"Yes, something like that. Never getting old. Pirates, mermaids. A perfect world."
"What?" Warrick laughed out in a huff of air, "Are you really that far off the charts? Children tales is what's getting you through the day? Wow, and I had thought I'd seen it all."
"Oh, you laugh now, but think about it. It is a world free of wars until Wendy and her brothers get involved. There are tiny fights that need to happen, but no one really tries to take over. The young boys live in their peace, while the pirates have theirs."
This was beyond what either CSI was willing to deal with. Here was a man that had tortured them before, almost killed Nick before and now he was talking about a story involving pirates, mermaids, and a fucking ticking crocodile! Warrick started to pull at his ropes again and shot a look at Nick. His partner seemed well aware of the thoughts going through his head because Nick was making his chapped, purple hands start to twist.
"It would help for people in this world to think on such different levels. We split up, each has their own world. But they have to deal together since conflict is what makes the world go 'round. You have to have some sort of fighting. It creates jobs and helps to prove which is the most powerful."
"Yeah, but this isn't a world of make-believe. No one will fall for that kind of stuff," Nick grunted out as he worked his ropes, "It's just an extremely odd form of dictatorship. You'd be killed before you got very far."
"I'm getting far now, aren't I? I mean, I have you two and you two are in my control. I'd say that's a pretty good start."
Warrick bobbed his head a little, "Oh yeah, so true. You have two lowly CSI's in your mitts and suddenly the world will bow to ya. I gotta say, whatever you're taking, you might wanna lay off it a little."
"I put nothing in my body that isn't accepted. I cannot have something not welcome into my future home. It would be plain stupid on my part."
Nick gritted his teeth. He was sure his hands were completely blue, from the chills and from the way he was cutting off all blood to them. All it felt like was that his ropes were getting tighter and tighter as he moved. His pinky was sure to fall off soon, he'd bet on it.
"But why choose that one? Surely there is some other tale that would have worked better? I mean, something like the Fox and the Hound," Nick huffed.
"Or Bambi, you playing the part of his mom," Warrick threw in on a whim.
Tenner shook his head, disappointment written all over his face, "I'd never expect you two to understand while you are still creatures in the flesh, such as it is. But once I release you into the far after, well, then it will be all clear. Then you'll be wishing you could go back to serve me."
"Yeah, like Caleb, or Kelly. I don't think so. You'll never talk me into putting a bullet into my head. Never."
"Nick, Nick. You forget, you almost did. And there was no talking involved. You are weaker than words. When the time comes, you will have a choice to make. It is up to you."
The two cloaked figures suddenly left the room. There was no announcement or command from Tenner. It caused both CSI's to frown deeply. Neither had thought anyone under a cloak could think for themselves anymore. But this might have been the case to prove them wrong.
"Oh don't worry. It's their jobs to check on things for me when I'm otherwise preoccupied. And there are a few things they need to gather. This isn't meant to be a joyful, pleasant thing here. We have much to do. Remember, I want to break you, then kill you. And it shouldn't take too much."
It was silent for minutes. Nick wriggled his hands, but the ropes weren't budging. He was uncomfortable with the looks he was getting from Tenner. The man was looking at him like he was steak dinner.
Footsteps sounded, two figures creeping back into the room. They carried things, but from his angle and due to the lights, Nick couldn't really make out what any of it was. He turned to look at Warrick, but his friend didn't give him anything either. They were going to have to wait and see it seemed.
"Ah good. I would like for you to refresh our dear Texan here. Have to keep him on his toes," Tenner stood and moved away a little bit.
Nick watched him, his attention gone from the other two, for a moment. The new torment of freezing water hit him dead center on the top of his skull. He could almost feel his brains freezing out. And it kept coming.
Some of the water splashed onto Warrick and he felt anger rush through him at the coldness of it, "Hey, stop it. You're going to give him frostbite or something."
It finally stopped. Nick gasped for air, it freezing each time it traveled through his mouth and his esophagus. His clothes were once again soaked. New chills racked his entire frame. But Nick had little time to compliant it. A dark cloth was dropped over his face and pulled tight.
"Just like old times, eh Nick!" Tenner laughed out as he watched. More water was dumped down, plastering the wet cloth tight against the struggling man's face.
"Stop! Let him go dammit! Leave him alone."
Warrick pulled and jerked in his chair. He could see Nick trying to shake off the cloth, his legs kicking out. Several times his feet impacted with Warrick's shins, but he shrugged it off. A couple of bruises would be worth it if Nick lived through this.
"Oh come now, Mr. Brown. Where's your sense of fun? I mean, you know gambling, am I right. You and I could bet on how long it takes for him to loss consciousness."
And that was where Nick was heading. He tried to open his mouth as wide as he could, pulling in soaked air. It left his mouth and lips wet, but nothing really was getting to his lungs. Panic swelled. He bucked as best he could, the chair shifting a little. But a weight suddenly anchored it in place. His struggles got weaker.
"Now, watch this!" Tenner whispered as if he and Warrick were in this thing together, like it was a secret the other man should have to know.
"What the fuck…" Warrick trailed off as he watched the other figure move in, something held in pale hands. It was lumpy, dark. It was dirt.
The cloth was pulled away, the hands suddenly were thrust in front of Nick's face. As the Texan gasped for drier air, all he could take in was the sweet smell of stale dirt. Bile rose in his throat and Nick couldn't stop himself from vomiting to the side of his body. It added to the smells in the room and his head began to swim. The cloth was back and air was hard to find.
With the barrier, the smell was stuck inside his nostrils, clinging to his nose hairs. Nick could taste it now. And it was damp, with water. Not sweat this time, but close enough. It made Nick gasp quicker for damp air. It began to hurt his lungs more and more.
"Leave him alone! This isn't something that needs to happen, you fuck!"
Tenner spared a look to Warrick before nodding his head. The cloth was once again removed, the dirt immediately back into place. But this time, one hand slapped against Nick's face, leaving a brown handprint. Warrick ignored it for a moment and looked into Nick's eyes. He could see the wild panic in those brown orbs. Nick was going to lose it soon if this didn't stop.
It was harsh against his soft, sensitive skin. The hand pushed in into his pores, spreading as much as it could. It clung to him as if he were the only thing left in the world. Nick tried to ignore it and get some air into his lungs. Cramps seized his chest, his lower torso. Sobs escaped with every harsh exhale. And the dirt wouldn't go away. The smell was stronger this time when the cloth was put back into place.
A scream was muffled, but Warrick growled along with it. He was trying to void out the sound with one of his own. Nick was not going to be happy that he did such a thing and Warrick was willing to cover it if he could. He would offer something to the other man since he was worthless and couldn't make this treatment stop.
"I'd say, I would have never thought that would have worked as well. Though, I suppose, if you're buried with it for as long as he was, it would be something you'd really never want to smell again. I wonder if we could get something more out of him. Pull the cloth back."
Nick threw his shoulders forward, trying to angle his head away. His mouth was open, lips flapping to make words, "S.s…sstop, p.p…plea…please."
"Oh, we can't do that now, can we Nick. No, I want to try one more," Tenner this time stepped towards the man on his own, his hand out to receive some of the dirt from the cloaked figure. He bounced his hand a little, the dirt flying up into the air. There was a smile, then Tenner grabbed as much of Nick's hair as he could manage. It wasn't quick, but Tenner still managed to slap his hand across Nick's gasping mouth, the dirt sticking to the man's tongue.
It flew into his throat, Nick gagging and hacking to get it out. This was just like before. Now with the smell, there was the taste. And that damn cloth. Nick coughed against it, pulling it hard back against his lips. No air was coming through this time. Nick tried to keep the dirt from entering his lungs. He would rather just not breathe than to breathe in dirt.
"How can you do this? Just leave him alone. Are you that insane?" Warrick kept talking, not really paying much attention. He just want his voice to be out there, for something for Nick to grab a hold of in his latest nightmare.
Graying teeth from age shown brightly through Tenner's smile, "I think we can do better than this. What's a little pain to all of this, wouldn't you agree Mr. Brown."
"You do it and I'll personally kill you!"
"Like to see you try," Tenner nodded to the person wiping the dirt off their hands. There was a shifting and then the figure was moving. It moved slowly to Nick's right side, reaching out to grip Nick's shoulder and upper arm in the two hands. "Let's see if he can scream now."
Not realizing what was really going on, Nick didn't try to pull away from the hands holding him now. All he could think of was the smell of dirt, how it was eating away at his system. His thoughts were getting slower, darker. He could feel his head falling forward, pulling against the grip on the cloth behind his head. Nick was losing his contact with reality. He was blacking out.
The hands pulled, twisted. There was a rip, a pop. Nick screamed loudly despite the muddy dirt in his mouth and the wet cloth holding air away. His shoulder felt like it was ripped apart. And there was a constant pull. Whoever was doing it, wasn't letting up.
Warrick yelled right along with his friend, "No! Don't!"
Anything, but reality was far away now. Nick arched his neck, veins popping out. His legs kicked, his left foot hitting something soft yet hard. A tug at the cloth pulled it harder for a moment, then it was gone. Nick felt his head snap forward, eyes watering. He spit and spat the best he could, but the dirt was one with his tongue now. All he could do now was to breathe the best he could by attempting to swallow the dirt.
His bright, wild eyes sought out his shoulder. It was gone. There was no shoulder in the conventional meaning of the word. It was nothing more than an odd bump and a slumping down where his arm should be. His shoulder was dislocated.
It had happened before in his life. He had been playing in the big game. His turn at bat had been a good one. Nick hit a home run, running his laps with a smile on his face. One of the other team members had taken it a little too personally. As Nick had turned second base, the short stop suddenly rammed into him, sending the young man down into the dirt. Nick had hit his shoulder wrong, jarring it from the socket. That hurt nothing like this did.
A wheezing cough escaped under a harsh moan. Nick closed his eyes tight and tried to block it all out. But all that did was remind him of the darkness the cloth, the room had given him. His eyes shot open, wide still. They darted around, trying to find something to focus on. Nick found green.
"R…rick?"
"Yeah, man. I'm here Nick. Just try to calm down."
Nick sobbed and laughed all in one sound, "Yea…yeah, s.sure."
"I know. Stupid thing to say, but you gotta try it man. Promise it'll help."
He locked his eyesight onto Warrick and tried to slow his breathing. It hurt, his chest tight from the lack of air from before. And his stomach felt compacted with the little amount of dirt he had managed to swallow. The smell was still there as well. It was hard to ignore, but he was trying. And Warrick could see that by watching the brown eyes with his own.
"That'a way Nick. You're almost there. Then we can figure out what they hell is wrong with your shoulder."
There were a few more gasps and the world around him jolted into sharp contrast. Nick could make out Tenner, smirking to his side. He could see the two cloaked figures that had moved towards his other side, close together. And the damn light was still on full power. Nick pushed past it all, even past the dirt.
"I'm okay. I'm fine."
"Doubt it," Warrick looked pissed, but didn't make a deal out of it, "Shoulder bad?"
Nick tried to shrug, but a pain shot through his body. He somehow had forgotten that a shoulder was used in such a motion. Shaking his head a little, Nick looked hard at Tenner. This was simple torture compared with what had happened before, but it was enough to make his life hell.
"That all you got?"
Hearing Warrick groan in exaggeration, Nick continued to stare at the older man. The sharp pain was dulling and the chill was back. The shaking jarred his shoulder a little, but nothing he couldn't deal with. Nick would just grit his teeth and he would be fine. He just wanted to work at Tenner.
The man took the bait, "You wish for more? I highly doubt that. You screamed enough for that one. I don't even remember that sound from before when we worked with your broken arm. Maybe we could do that…no, I don't want to deal with that. I want you to have full abilities of your arms."
Wiggling the fingers on his good arm, Nick couldn't figure out how that made any sense. His arms were still tied awkwardly behind him. In a way it helped with the pain because it didn't let him make any sudden movements that might pull at the delicate muscles and tendons.
"No, we have more to do. But I fell we have been neglecting Mr. Brown here. I wonder, what can we do with him. My people have already beaten him a bit. There has to be something more," Tenner paced a little, index finger tapping at his chin.
Warrick didn't look intimidated at all. He kept a slight sneer on his lips, eyes wide in challenge. Nick wished he wouldn't do such a thing. Tenner was after him after all. It should be him that was the only to suffer at that man's hands. That was the right thing to do for his friend.
"What you got? Huh? Going to break something, going to pour water on me? I'd think you'd have something better in mind."
It was a jab and it seemed to work. Tenner's smile dimmed a little, anger taking its place, "You really want me to do more to your friend here? I can keep working away on Nick if you really want me to. Or would you like to pound on him this time as well."
That was a low blow and Nick could see on Warrick's face how low it went. It was something that Warrick had been bothered with since the last time in that church. Warrick felt he had lost control over himself and he never could forgive himself for what he did to his friend. His own fists had caused a great deal of those bruises that had been purple on the Texan's face for days.
"Oh, I see that isn't something you like to hear about. No one forced your hand that time. All we did was talk to you. You're the one who struck out with your fists. It would see to me it had been something you've been wanting to do for a long time. I can still remember the look on your face as you hit Nick. It was something of satisfaction."
"No."
It wasn't Warrick's voice the responded, but Nick's. He could see what these words were doing to his friend and he wasn't going to sit there and take it. If it meant more cold water showers and a few dislocations, he would take it.
"Oh Nick, Nick. Nothing you can do or say will take away that guilt. Your friend just keeps adding to himself anyways. He still blames himself for you getting stuck in the basement of my church. And from what I've learned, he still blames himself for what he did to you that day with the box."
"He didn't do anything to me that day. None of that was his fault," Nick spoke to Tenner, but looked at Warrick the entire time.
"You forget, I know things about those few days that you would never expect. Like how I know the two of you flipped a coin for that run. It was luck on my side. It was meant to be, but Mr. Brown here had no idea."
Now it was Warrick's turn to turn a little sick. Him and Nick had talked about things that had happened during that hellish time, but neither had gotten into any deep issues. They each knew the basics and that had been just fine. Now, Nick was hearing about a huge part of his guilt from a man that wanted to be a damn pirate.
"And then he was the one who decided they were to leave the light on for as long as possible. I talked with Gordon, knew what he was planning to do. And I had to agree with him. It was the best way to kill the person inside. Let the people wanting to save him kill him first. Or force his hand."
"I say we leave the light on."
The words echoed through Warrick's head. He had been the one to hit it the second time and decide that it was the best option. Hell, if he had been in there, he would have wanted to have the light. Right? Wouldn't that be true?
Thinking back on it now and after what had happened to him with these larger lights here above the ground, Warrick wasn't too sure anymore. Each one wore at the brain, burned at the eyes. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like, in a tight area, a light turning on and off at annoying intervals. Catherine had been wrong. He wouldn't have been able to do it.
"So you see Nick, your friend here is part of the bad luck you hold. He is a gambling man, even if he hasn't been in a casino for a good time. But when he stopped and backed off on winning, he brought a bad luck out. It just so happened to transfer to you and you have taken it to a whole new level. Just something else to blame on your friend here."
"My bad luck as you call it," Nick stated slowly, sounding more like his normal self other than being a little rough around the edges, "Had nothing to do with anything Warrick has ever done to me. He is my best friend and he has helped me through everything. There is nothing you can use against him."
Warrick shook his head, "Nah, he's right Nick. A lot of things are my fault."
"No, you can't mean that!" Nick's eyes went wide, his skin a little more pale. He didn't care a thing about Tenner being in the room. There wasn't anything more that Tenner could really do to them.
"Oh come off it Nick! You know as well as me that a lot of this shit wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me. I could have stopped a lot of it from happening. There were things I could have done."
"Yeah, like what? Jump in that box with me? What good would that have done, huh?"
"I should have stayed in that hole with you until you were out. I should have been there when you dealt with Kelly."
"What if I never wanted you to be there!" Nick suddenly roared, cracking his voice. He gasped as soon as the words were out, eyes open with shock and fear. It wasn't what he had wanted to say. And there was no way he was going to be able to take it back.
Tenner took that moment to make his presence known once more, "Ah, the joys of friendship. Who would have thought friends would build up to each other through hatred. I must admit, that was better than anything I could have done Nick. You know how to go straight to the heart. I'm impressed, that I am."
"No, Warrick! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
But the other man wasn't looking at him any longer. Warrick had turned his head to the left. His brow was crinkled in an angry frown. Nick could see his lips moving a little, but no words were coming out. And that scared him the most. He had gone too far and now Warrick was going to hate him. He had just lost his best friend.
"Well, Nick, I don't know what to do anymore. I was going to torture your friend for your amusement, but I fear that might not work anymore. Seems to me that you don't care for him all that much. But, I am curious to see how well friendship can survive something like that. I think I'd like to test it."
With a new motion, Tenner shifted away from the two men. Nick watched his with stressed eyes, wondering what new thing was coming. He was blasted with another shower of cold water. The only relief was that it washed away the dirt. Nick opened his mouth quickly allowing the water to rush in and clean off his tongue and gums. But he did notice there were no more words from the other man, his friend.
It wasn't as long this time and Nick had to admit it really wasn't as cold as it was before. Something deep in his mind warned him that it was a bad thing. His body was getting used to the cold because it was getting too cold. And he didn't have the shivers quite as bad as he did before. But he really couldn't think too much about it. He was too busy trying to get Warrick to look at him.
"War..rick. I'm so..sorry. Don't b…be mad.d."
Nothing. Those green eyes didn't look back at him. Nick could feel his lower lip begin to tremble, but not from the cold. He held back the tears he knew were coming. His body was getting so tired, along with his mind. This wasn't something he could fight against if he didn't have Warrick there with him along the way.
"It would look like you are finally on your own in this Nick. And I didn't even have to do a thing. You did it all on your own. I must say, I'm sully impressed at that. Bravo."
Something in the Texan snapped and he lunged forward in his chair, doing nothing more than pulling on his shoulder. A grunt of pain came, but he fought it to get his words out. "You asshole! Why did you have to come back. Couldn't you just die and leave us alone!?"
"Now that's what I want to see. You are beginning to lose that hold on yourself there. It will be soon. You will be asking to die soon. There is nothing more that I want. You would have made a fine soldier in my war, at my side. But, alas, not to be."
The cloaked figures moved again, suddenly coming out of the shadows. Nick couldn't stop the cringe that escaped him when they reached for him. He held in the pain as they lifted him from the chair, his arms getting caught up on the top of the back of the chair. His shoulder was screaming. Even the cold seeping into his center was nothing compared to that.
Softer shoves moved him this time. Nick barely managed to get a glance back at Warrick. His friend wasn't looking at him. Warrick's head was turned in the other direction. His heart dropped down into his frozen feet. Nick didn't fight anymore.
It was all the same now. Darkness, dim. Nick could barely feel the hands on his arms. His nerves were dying, cold. Hope was no longer an option. They were going to die there. And he was going to die without having his best friend. Nick only hoped he were the first to die. He didn't think he would be able to handle it if Warrick died before him with hatred on his once friendly face.
The blind fold was comforting in a way. It blocked out the world. He left himself be shoved forward into that dark room he knew was waiting. Nick slammed into the far wall too soon. Pain caused white bursts to go off behind his closed eyelids. He whimpered as he slid downward.
As much as he didn't wish to touch the ground, he couldn't stop himself. He settled on the dirt, it almost soft under his body. Nick didn't feel the tiny legs as soon this time. But he did have a harder time keeping his mouth closed against him as warm tears soaked the blindfold. He was lost.
!#$&()+!#$&()+!#$&()+
Jim answered his phone with a scowl. He didn't want to be interrupted right now. They were finally getting somewhere. All the information they had on what was happening was now in the same area. And there were four CSI's working over it.
He had always loved CSI work. Even when he left the lab to work as a full time detective, he missed thinking in those ways. Jim knew he had lost a great deal of that when he left. There were only so many opportunities to think as a CSI when you were a police captain.
"Brass."
His voice was dry. They hadn't left the room for at least an hour. Everyone had gone and gotten the information they had and everyone came back. Only Vartann had left to get back out to work. There were two more sudden attacks on women. He had only hoped the other detective had gotten there in time.
And it seemed that he had.
"Where are you? You got him?"
All heads of the six other people in the room turned to him. Someone had dropped something heavy. It clanked on the table, rolling to the floor. Jim held up his hand to hold off the questions that he knew would be coming soon. He didn't want to miss a thing Vartann had to tell him.
"Alright. Be careful and I'll meet up with you soon. Yep, bye."
Grissom stood from his chair, "What has happened?"
"Yeah, who did they get?" Catherine asked with slight fear.
"Not Tenner. But they did catch Shaun at one of the attacks. And the girl is still alive. I'm going to meet with Vartann so we can talk with that man. We'll get some answers out of him."
"I'm coming with. I want to be there."
Jim knew better than to argue with Gil when he got something in his head so strongly. The captain just nodded his head and grabbed up his keys from the table. "I'll meet you by the cruiser in five minutes. Get your things and be there."
Grissom raised an eyebrow, "No supervision?"
"Not this time. Just don't do anything stupid. We have a key and I want to learn how to use it."
The two men left the room quickly. No one said a word after them. In fact, Greg seemed to have forgotten he had vocal cords. One by one they slowly turned back to the papers and photos stretched out in front of them. None were completely in it now. They all wanted to be flies in that interrogation room. And they could only hoped they were filled in with whatever happened as soon as possible.
TBC…