It hadn't taken Greg long for him to connect the Steidbaker's to the possession charge. It was easy enough to say he had just done some research into their drug history and found the arrest. All he had to do now… was steal evidence. No big deal.
He had two days to get it. The sooner he got it though the more time he could have to discover what it was and why they needed it. He decided the sooner the better and took off immediately for the evidence storage facility. The good news is that he didn't need to check out the evidence, which would require a supervisor's permission. The arrest report didn't mention any sort of computer device being logged into evidence which means it either wasn't there or the officers who arrested him didn't look too hard.
He didn't dare dwell on the consequences of his actions. Getting caught removing evidence, while the least of his concerns presently, still put a ball of guilt pressed firmly into his abdomen. It waxed and waned with fear, mingled deftly with anger.
The storage facility wasn't far from the lab and it wasn't long before he had pulled up next to a large gray building surrounded by a barbed fence, a light flickered above the door as if in warning. He only paused a split second, taking a deep breath, before jumping out of his car, letting himself into a long hallway, and walking up to a gated window. A young woman with long brown hair pulled back was sitting with her feet on the desk, leaned back and trying to balance a pencil on her nose. She hadn't heard Greg arrive until he coughed lamely and startled her.
"I need to examine some evidence, case number JEOR4-24FY909." She jumped to her computer, blushing a little at being spotted in such a lack luster position.
"Yeah, look's like it was placed in a filing cabinet somewhere in the back. It might take me awhile to grab it."
"It would be faster if I helped." It wasn't exactly against protocol as long as she was there to observe him and make sure he doesn't take anything but typically they weren't allowed to be in the back.
She pushed some stray hair out of her eyes as she said, "Yeah ok sure," and went around towards the door to let him in. "Wait, I need your badge number." Greg knew this was part of the process but it still made his heart flutter unexpectedly. She lingered what felt like ages on his numbers, he was sure any moment she would scream 'wait a minute, you're not here for a case!' but after a minute she handed him back his badge and let him through. He smiled a little more heartily than he normally would creating an unnecessary awkwardness between them. She turned away from him quickly and gestured for him to follow her.
After a moment the awkwardness had filled the space so thoroughly it was like walking through mud "What case are you working on?" she asked as casually as she could.
Greg had been staring at the rows and rows of boxes trying to keep his breathing at ease. If he kept acting all fidgety it would surely give away his intentions.
"Oh uh, a triple homicide," he mumbled. They had reached the small army of cabinets and began tearing into them.
"You must be working on that poor family," she replied. Greg only nodded and continued to search feverishly. "I heard there was an attack on a CSI while they were processing the scene." Greg was thrown off guard. It hadn't exactly made the headlines but word appeared to have spread anyways. She peered over at him expectantly. Completely absorbed in her own embarrassment earlier, she hadn't seen the bruise on his cheek or how deep the circles under his eyes were. She decided it was best to stop talking, her face now flushed. He was grateful she had taken the hint. He couldn't maintain a conversation at the moment.
After seven cabinets had been turned over, she finally yelled over for him that she found it. Greg instantly slammed his drawer shut and half ran to her. She had taken the small bag to a table not far away and pulled some gloves out of a box and handed them to him. He mumbled thanks and proceeded to tear open the seal.
The only contents included the clothes they were wearing plus shoes and a rather small bag of heroine. He laid out each piece as the young woman stood by watching. After combing through every clothing item, he stood back unclear what to do. He didn't find anything. He wasn't sure if this was good news or not.
"What are you looking for?" she asked as he stood back and stared intently into nothingness.
He forgot she was there and gave her a brief look, "I just needed to verify some facts for myself."
She leaned against a nearby shelf. "This case is, what, 10 years old? What does it have to do with that family?" Greg bit his lip. He was getting irritated by her interruptions. He started patting the shoes now.
"They were arrested 10 years ago, it might have something-" There. He felt it. Wedged in between the sole and the outer edge was a small computer chip. Marley, it seemed, had enough sense to hide whatever this was during his arrest. He tried to cover up the gasp he had inadvertently made, continuing "-to do with motive."
She came around to him curiously, wondering what had peaked his interest. Greg pulled the chip out of the shoe as deftly as a magician and began coughing noisily. He pulled his hands to his face dramatically and turned away as if to keep from coughing in her face. As he did he slipped the chip from his left hand to his right, which promptly skittered past his front jacket pocket.
"you guys are very… thorough." She finally said. Greg laughed forcefully as he packed up everything back the way he found it. and handed it back to her. "Is that it then?" she asked disappointed.
Greg nodded. She shrugged and placed the evidence back where she found it and walked him out. He waved good bye to her as she sat back in her chair ready to melt into her hands and die of embarrassment the moment he was out of sight.
As he walked down the long hall he felt around in his pocket for the chip and squeezed it firmly into his palm. It was the most important thing in the world now- the holy grail feeding him hope and life. Could it be too much to hope for that this could give him back autonomy? He hadn't bothered to consider what his actions would do to his career, it had been difficult to see past the blaring danger that kept popping out like some horrendous whack-a-mole. There hadn't been a point where he reached the other side and now in the flickering fluorescent lights it presented itself wholly. There would be consequences without a doubt. He could lose his job or worse, arrested for tampering with evidence, aiding and abetting. It seemed frivolous in the grand scheme of things before and yet his career had been such a major part of his identity.
As soon as he was out of eye sight he ran awkwardly back to his car and took it out to examine it beneath the street lights. It was nothing more than a small memory card with a company name printed on the bottom that read Alliance International. He stuffed it back into his pocket, put his car in reverse, and turned to back out when there was a sudden rapt on his window. He jumped despite himself and turned back around to see a dark figure leaning against the side of his car. The figure pointed downwards gesturing for him to row his window down.
Greg froze. This could only be the man who had threatened him earlier over the phone. All plans to discover his identity or his brothers evaporated as quickly as it had come. Anger had trickled down like hot rain, washing over him completely. He had no cards left to play, he lost.
The man rapt on his window more aggressively now. Greg put the car in park and rolled his window down.
"The chip please, Greg," he said casually but firmly as he placed his hand out. Greg didn't move.
"where's your guard?" He asked bitterly.
"He's keeping an eye on something for me. The chip," he said again impatiently. Greg pulled it out of his pocket reluctantly. The moment he handed it over he sealed his fate, he just needed more time.
"I need to know what's on it. I can't hand over something that could get someone killed," he said desperately.
"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" he replied harshly.
"Please, I can't be an accomplice to someone's murder." The man shuffled but Greg couldn't see what he was thinking.
"We made an agreement Greg. Hand over the chip. Now." Greg suddenly felt very small and realized how pathetic he must appear, hunched down in his car begging desperately for answers. He sighed, resigned to his position and surrendered the chip.
"You'll leave us alone now, the lab and I, right? That was the deal."
The man inspected the chip in the light then put it in his pocket.
"Thanks to you we should be done within the week. If all goes as planned you'll never see me or my brother again."
He began to walk away when Greg said abruptly, "He's a predator, your brother. He's not going to stop." The man paused briefly then turned around, the street light illuminated him creating harsh shadows around his features. Greg saw his face for the first time clearly. At his apartment, he had seemed composed and controlled but now his face, freckled with stubble and grease, seemed wild- his eyes frowned without moving.
"I know what he is. You don't have to worry about him coming after you, I'm taking care of it."
"And what about the next guy? He needs to be locked up."
The man shoved his hands into his pocket and looked around. He said quietly, "He's my brother Greg." As if that was the only answer he needed. He turned around and walked out of sight around the corner.
Greg was alone again contemplating his next move. As far as he could tell there was only one left. He had to turn himself in and hope they could use what he knew to catch them before someone got hurt. He was intensely aware that he was in the final moments of being a CSI. He didn't have the time to think about it just now, there were murderers on the loose that he'dd just helped. A new kind of fear crept up on him as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the lab. What would his friends think of him? Would they ever forgive him for putting them in danger? For being in such a compromised position that he allowed himself to be blackmailed- had got Morgan shot. He was hardly worth forgiving he admitted. It was the end for him. No career, no friends. All he had left was a small chance to get the bastards who started all this.
Before he knew it, he was about to knock on D.B's door. He heard some muffling when the door opened revealing a surprised Nick and Sara. Greg hesitated momentarily before turning to D.B.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked nervously. Nick and Sara looked between them and stepped out, Sara gave his arm a small squeeze as she left. D.B gestured for him to sit in a chair but Greg remained standing. "I did something stupid."
He laid it out for him. The threats he'd received, that the lab had received because of him. What he had stolen from evidence and handed over. He couldn't bring himself to mention the man who assaulted him what he truly was that is. He had skated past it wanting to keep some shred of dignity.
"It's all my fault. I got Morgan shot because I had agreed to help them. And now they have this chip that could have god only knows what on it. We have to stop them before someone gets hurt." He collapsed into the chair across from the desk, his leg bobbing up and down like a jackhammer, hands clasped tight together. D.B hadn't interrupted him or asked questions. He merely sat impassively, taking in as much detail as he could, filling in the gaps. Under the light of scrutiny Greg appeared hollow, his eyes now drooped heavy as if without years of sleep and the bruise that should be healing appeared to be spreading dark hues of purple across his cheek and down his neck. D.B had an impulse to pull him into a tight hug, ruffle his hair soothingly, tell him everything would be ok.
He leaned forward instead, his hands clasped together to prevent himself from reaching out. "Right now, everything is circumstantial. The only evidence we have that either of these men were in that house is your word. The only way we will be able to prosecute them, if we find them that is, is if you testify, you could very well be prosecuted yourself." Greg lowered his head into his hands and nodded. "What's important at the moment is that we catch them and we're going to need your help to do it."
Greg nodded again and said shakily, "I'll do anything I can."
"I know you will." it had come out more harshly then D.B had intended as he saw Greg flinch slightly. He took a deep breath and walked around his desk. He went to place a hand on his shoulder but thought better of it and instead leaned them against the desk. ""We'll have to go to Brass as soon as possible. We can keep your involvement quiet from the rest for as long as we can but eventually it's going to come out." Greg just nodded again. Guilt clasped tightly around his shoulders, making him fold into himself, becoming smaller. He wished to take up as less space as possible, to keep shrinking into nothing.
"You were placed in a terrible position. I don't know what I would have done but I do know what you did, you did to keep your friends safe. They'll know that much." Greg looked away as his eyes swiftly filled with tears. D.B allowed him a moment to compose himself before continuing. "As it is, Brass and I have already decided that all CSI's were to get a police officer assigned for protective detail. From what you've told me however, they got what they wanted, we should be safe. Now, let's go talk to Brass. I doubt we have much time."
i did briefly consider posting these chapters one at a time.