Author's Note: I wasn't going to post this today. I was going to wait a day before I gave you the bad news (well, mixed news). This story has been officially put on "hiatus" status. That does not mean it won't be finished and posted, it just means that me and these characters are at a very frustrating impasse and until I figure out what I will do (which, I give you my solemn vow, I will), there will be no posting for a while. I promise you that the next chapter will be up before the end of August, so if it isn't, then feel free to pester me with PMs saying "How come you haven't updated yet?" Trust me, the gap between chapters for this story will be much shorter than the gaps some author's have. I just need some time to think and work on other projects (Currently a Mature Greg fic inspired by something fvhardy told me and a horror/romance Sara fic inspired by my own dream). If you're interested in either of these, a preview excerpt of the mature Greg fic (entitled "So Close To Home") will be included at the end of this chapter and may begin posting as this story rests for a moment. A video promo for "The Inbetweens" (the horror/romance) will be included on my profile later this morning. If you're curious about either of those endeavors and want to be someone I bounce ideas off of, or if you want to make sure to nag me to post this story (as I know that even though I reassure you now, you've been let down by so many other authors in the past who have abandoned their stories, though I hope by now I've gained some sort of reliability), feel free to add me on MSN, included in my profile. As Kegel will tell you, I love to chat about anything and everything. So don't be shy.

Also, brownie points to whoever gives me a good name for this chapter. :o)

Chapter Twelve: Sierra Oscar Sierra

Brass found Greg talking to Nick in the hall, and they both halted their conversation upon seeing Brass. "Greg," Brass said seriously. He glanced at Nick. "I'm… going to need a very big favor from you. But you don't have to do it. We can always find another way."

Greg looked surprised at his solemnity. "OK, man. No problem."

"No, there is a problem," Brass said. "We have a suspect in custody for the Sneaky Santa murders. He's threatening that he has another murder lined up, probably something like a bomb, set to go off with or without him, but we have no way to corroborate it. He says he'll only tell us what it is if—"

Brass was interrupted by Greg's singing cell phone. Greg held up a finger. "Hold that thought," he said and went to answer it. "Sanders."

"Greg, I need your help."

Greg smirked. "Wow, everyone just wants my help today. What's up, Sara?"

And then, he realized, she sounded scared and not like herself. "I'm going to need you and Catherine to come down to a crime scene. Someone's been killed."

He didn't like her tone. "Code 419?"

"No," she said simply. That meant it was a lie.

"So it's a code Sierra Oscar Sierra?"

"Yes."

"Right," Greg said, nodding, suddenly very nervous. "Any witnesses on the scene?"

She hesitated and then, there was a grunt of pain. "No…" she breathed.

He knew their code had been broken. He was desperate now. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just need you and Catherine to come down here, that's all," she replied.

"You know, babe, I'm kinda busy…" Greg said slowly. "Maybe I should send Grissom instead—"

"No!" she said sharply. "You and Catherine and no one else."

"OK…" Greg said. "Where's the scene?"

"UNLV library," Sara replied. "Right inside the lobby."

"I'll be there as fast as I can," he said and hung up. He looked at Nick and Brass. "Sara's in trouble."

"Sierra Oscar Sierra?" Nick said with a raise of his eyebrow. "That wasn't obvious."

"Well I couldn't remember the code number for 'This is a trap!'" Greg snapped.

"Oh dammit, she did something stupid, didn't she?" Brass sighed. "I told her to stay put."

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked, suddenly sounding angry that Brass seemed to have guessed something like this might happen.

Brass rubbed his eyes, obviously very tired. "She called me about an hour ago to come and make an arrest. I sent over the campus cops, but…"

And then, Brass's phone was ringing. He looked at the caller ID and answered it. "Brass. Please tell me this is good news, Ed." There was a pause and Brass nodded. "Right, of course. Dammit. OK, get your guys out of there, wait for backup, I'm sending some over. Bye." He hung up and looked up at Greg and Nick. "That was the chief of campus police. He said he sent two men over there as per my request but when they showed up, no one was there but the librarian. And then, from out of nowhere, they both got shot, one in the shoulder, the other right through the heart. He's dead."

Nick and Greg were solemn. "Brass, I have to go," Greg said suddenly. "Sara said she wants me and Catherine."

"You and Catherine?" Brass said. "Why?"

"I don't know… Does anyone know why Sara left in the first place?" Greg asked, looking from Nick to Brass.

Nick nodded. "She got a call and said something about helping some kid before she ran out."

Brass sighed. "Daniel McCormick," he said. "She and I interviewed him and his uncle, who she figured beats his nephew. I was about to call social services on his ass when she told me the kid said no, and that she'd deal with it. I guess this is how she dealt with it."

"Jesus…" Greg muttered. "Is this kid dangerous?"

"To be honest, he didn't look it," Brass replied. "Small guy, short for his age, lanky… And he was pretty battered."

"I'm going to go find Catherine—"

"No," Brass said sternly. "I don't want you two walking into a trap too."

"You'll cover us," Greg said. "Stay outside while we go inside. Like a sting operation."

"Grissom's not gonna like this…" Brass muttered shaking his head. "And I got a crazy man in interrogation. I'll have Sofia play babysitter down here. I'm going with you."

"Me too," Nick said, squeezing Greg's shoulder.

"Nick, I need you here," Brass said. "Help Sofia out with our suspect. Grissom's going to want to come down, and I need someone holding down the fort. Warrick—" he said, as the man passed. "Get over here."

Slightly confused Warrick obeyed. "I was just going to see Grissom in interrogation. Got the DNA—"

"Good," Brass said. "Nick, go with him and tell Grissom what's going on. Greg, go find Catherine and meet me outside in five minutes. Got it?"

They all nodded and set off.

Sara hung up the phone and clutched at her side where Mickey had kneed her in the stomach when he had realized she and Greg were speaking in code.

"I was serious when I said I'd kill the librarian," Mickey told her. "So don't even think about it."

Sara caught her breath as she leaned against the bookcase, deciding it was best to obey for now, at least until Greg and Catherine showed up, preferably with backup. Mickey went to check on the librarian. Danny sat down next to her. She wished he would go away. She wasn't interested in speaking to him anymore and any sympathy she previously housed for the boy had fled.

"I'm really sorry about all this, Sara," he said quietly. "I didn't want to hurt anyone. Honest." Sara didn't reply. Danny began to fidget. "If you just do everything he tells you to, then he promised me he won't hurt you." Sara still didn't speak. Danny sighed. "Look, Sara, I told you, I'm not as good a person as you are, I've never—"

"Being a good person isn't something bred into your genetics, Danny," Sara interrupted sharply. "It's not like saying 'I'm not as tall as you are,' or 'I don't have dark eyes like you do.' If you don't think you're a good person, and you want to do something about it, then you can. You didn't make this choice because you're not as good a person as me. You made this choice because you don't want to be as good a person as me."

It was Danny's turn to be silent as he stared at his knees.

But Sara was furious, and now that she had opened her mouth, she couldn't stop herself from yelling at him. "I mean, my God, Danny, you seemed like such a smart kid! Troubled, yeah, of course, and abused emotionally and physically, but I naively thought that all you needed was a little love and a friend without any ulterior motives. I really did want to help you, Danny, I would have fought tooth and nail for you, I would have helped you to do the right thing and feel good about yourself again, and become a better person. I really cared about you, Danny, whether you believe it or not. I know I only met you today, but you reminded me of…" She trailed off and looked away. "Just go," she whispered. "Just go to your friend and leave me alone."

Danny looked at her and took a deep breath before looking away again in shame. He rose to his feet and walked over to Mickey at the front desk. Sara couldn't hear what they were saying, but she saw Mickey put a hand on Danny's shoulder, concernedly. Danny said something and Mickey's face hardened. He pushed past Danny and made for Sara, who stiffened reflexively and got into a crouch position. Mickey pointed his gun at her and was about to speak, but before he could, Sara launched herself at him, knocking him to the floor and sending the gun skidding across the floor. They wrestled on the floor momentarily and Sara tried to overpower him but he was stronger than she had anticipated and she found that to be easier said than done.

"Stop it, both of you!" Danny yelled, but they both ignored him. Sara pinned Mickey to the ground and beat his head against the floor, trying to knock him unconscious, but he delivered a swift uppercut to her chin, making her bite her tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"Stop it or I'll shoot you both!" Danny roared and the both stopped and looked up at Danny with wide eyes. He was carrying two guns, one Sara recognized as her own, and the other was the one she had knocked out off Mickey's hands. He was breathing hard, and both his hands were shaking. Mickey pushed Sara away and walked towards Danny.

"OK," he said calmly to Danny, holding out his hand. "Thanks, Danny. Now give me my gun."

Danny looked skeptical a moment. He glanced at Sara. Mickey didn't like that.

"Don't look at her, look at me!" he snapped. "I'm your friend here. I'm the one looking out for you. She wants to put you in prison. Don't you even think about it Danny."

He swallowed and closed his eyes before nodding and handing Mickey back his gun. Mickey grinned, then spun around face and kicked Sara hard in the face, pushing her down. Her hair fell over her face as she rested on her arms, trying to recover her breath.

"You said you wouldn't hurt her!" Danny hissed.

"Well she said she wouldn't pull any tricks!" Mickey retorted. "I guess we both lied."

They both turned their eyes to Sara, who had flipped her hair back and was glaring up at them with a split lip, her eyes as fierce and full of loathing as Danny had ever seen them. He hadn't known that someone as sweet as her could also be so ruthless. It seemed the fight was out of her. Now, she was content to seethe in silence and just glower at her captors menacingly.

"This is a bad idea, Mickey," Danny said, trying to revive an old argument. "She was going to help us. We'll never get a deal from the cops now that we've abducted one of them!"

"He's right," Sara growled, drawing both Danny and Mickey's attention. "You may have killed those first two cops, but you better believe once they find out they'll send half the LVPD after you. Mickey—"

"Don't you talk to me, bitch!" Mickey screamed frantically as he pointed his gun at her.

She hesitated before boldly continuing. "I could have helped you. Now, you can rot in hell for all I care—"

She was cut off when Mickey seized her by her collar and shoved her up against a bookcase, the edges of the hardcover spines pressing uncomfortably into her back. He was unusually strong for a teenager and Sara struggled against him, but his fingers closed around her throat.

"Mickey!" Danny screamed hysterically. "Mickey, let her go!"

"You made a choice, Danny!" Mickey yelled at him. "And you chose me. No going back, not for anything!"

As she struggled for air, she felt something vibrating against her thigh. She tried to speak. "Phone…" she choked. "Phone… ringing…"

Mickey frowned then looked down and understood. His grip slackened and she fell to her knees, spluttering, gasping for air as she reached to answer her phone. She coughed before speaking to clear her throat as she rubbed her sore neck.

"Sidle."

"Sara? Are you OK, you don't sound good."

Mickey kneeled down next to her and leaned his ear near hers so he could listen to both sides of the conversation. Sara glared at her captor with endless malice. "Yeah, I'm… I'm fine. Where are you, Greg?"

"We're outside," Greg replied. "The door's locked."

Sara gave Mickey a pointed look. "Well then I'll go unlock it," she hissed, more to Mickey than to Greg. Mickey rose to his feet and nodded, then gestured at the door with his head and kept his gun trained on Sara. She rounded the corner, her eyes still warily on the gun, and headed to the glass doors where she saw Greg and Catherine, both standing with their kits at the door trying to look inscrutable. Her eyes kept darting back to Mickey who was hiding amongst the books. She hoped Catherine and Greg were realizing what she was doing so they could anticipate Mickey's position. She swallowed as she reached the door and opened it, letting Catherine and Greg inside.

"Hey…" Greg said, his eyes filled with concern as he clutched Sara's hand and squeezed it. "So where's the… body?"

She looked over her shoulder at Danny, who had just stepped out from behind the front desk. He was aiming Sara's gun at the three of them, his hands quaking madly. Sara, Greg and Catherine didn't move as they watched Danny.

"You brought your guns, I hope?" Sara whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

"What do you take us for, idiots?" Greg mumbled as he watched Danny. "He doesn't look very scary."

"He's not," Sara replied, and her eyes flew to the book cases where Mickey was now emerging from, aiming his gun at them as well.

"Catherine, Greg, how are you?" Mickey said, as congenially as if he held a tray of tea instead of a gun in his hand. "Good to see you both again."

"Again?" Catherine said, confused.

Mickey smirked. "How's Lindsey?"
Catherine's face drained of color. "Who the hell are you?"

Mickey turned to Greg. "I heard about that inquest," he said. "Tough luck, man. The judicial system isn't very understanding of guys like us."

Greg narrowed his eyes. "'Guys like us?'" he repeated, sounding disgusted. Something tightened around Sara's hand and she looked down to realize Greg was still holding it, clinging to it for dear life. He interwove his fingers with hers and refused to let go. "What do you want with us?" Greg demanded. "Why did you call us down here?"

Mickey turned again to Catherine. "I'm almost offended you don't recognize my voice, Cat. Then again, it was more of a… husky whisper, wouldn't you say?"

Greg glanced at Catherine, who was thoroughly pale by now, her breathing steady as her chest rose and fell with suppressed rage. "Catherine…" Greg began.

"You are such a conniving little—"

"Ah, ah, ah, Catey, dear," Mickey said mockingly. "I did a little digging. A lot of digging, actually. But nothing could explain the way you froze in my arms…" He walked over to the captive librarian. He frowned. "Now, I looked for reported rapes… and yet there was nothing. So either, you didn't report it or…" He turned around. "I was turning you on."

"Stop playing with us," Sara snapped, furious at the way Mickey was speaking to her friends. "What do you want?"

Mickey grinned and pulled the captive librarian by the hair, tilting her head back. She shrieked through her gag as he held the gun against her temple. "I want you to understand," he growled.

"OK, take it easy…" Greg said holding up his hands.

"Danny," Mickey barked. "Take your girlfriend and get out of here."

Danny looked just as surprised as the rest of them. "What?" he breathed.

Mickey was staring hard at Catherine and Greg. "Unless you want her to die," Mickey repeated. "Get her out of here!"

Danny began to approach Sara, but looked back at Mickey startled and lowered his gun. "I don't…"

His hesitation was all Greg needed. He grabbed his gun from his holster and hooked Danny round the neck, holding his gun to Danny's temple. Mickey pulled at the librarian's hair making her whimper.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with here, kid," Greg growled. "Let us go, and I won't kill him."

Mickey smiled. "So it's true what they said about you. You really are a killer. How attractive. Don't even think about it, Cathy," Mickey snapped as Catherine reached for her own gun. "Or Ms. Librarian here gets a bullet in her brain."

Catherine and Sara exchanged looks as Danny struggled against Greg's grip, his face pale, his eyes wide. "You don't think I'm serious?" Greg asked. "It won't be the first person I killed, you know."

"I know," Mickey said. "It'll be your third. And you'll probably get away with that one too."

"Mickey…" Danny said, his voice a whimper.

"You do care about him, don't you?" Greg asked.

Mickey's face was solemn. "I thought I did," he replied.

"You do…" Sara whispered, approaching Mickey slowly. He didn't tell her to stop. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have listened to him. You wouldn't have allowed him to protect me. You wouldn't have told him to leave."

"I don't," Mickey said fiercely, and the librarian shrieked as his nails dug into her scalp. And yet, Mickey's eyes never seemed to leave Danny's panic-stricken face.

"The greatest thing you can do for a loved one, Mickey…" Sara said quietly. "Is to let them be themselves, and not who you want them to be."

"Shut up," Mickey growled.

"You do love him…" Sara said, sounding as if she just realized it herself. "Don't you?"

"Shut up or I will kill you!" Mickey yelled.

"No!" Greg screamed, drawing their attention. "You won't touch her. Or that librarian. You're going to let us go or I'll kill your friend here."

"You wouldn't do it," Mickey said. "Your sister was one thing, but that was years ago, and Demetrius James, well, that was a mistake, wasn't it? You couldn't use your gun back at the house and you can't use it here, can you? You're just a scared little boy."

"You think I'm scared?" Greg said, trying to laugh haughtily and failing miserably.

"Yes," Mickey said simply, before swiftly changing his aim and firing. There was a cry of pain and someone was yelling at the top of his lungs. Greg nearly lost grip on Danny as his heart almost stopped. "I do."

End Note: What a cliffhanger to leave you folks on. Anyways, a preview for "So Close To Home." Remember, a video teaser for "The Inbetweens" will be in my profile shortly.

Sara closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay as she bagged another torn piece of black cloth that had once been Greg's shirt. The stars blinked down at her in the clear night sky as she processed the scene where hours ago, Nick had discovered their pale, staggering friend. Brass stood silent vigil over the scene, his hand resting unconsciously on the butt of his gun as he held up his flashlight to help illuminate the scene. She crawled on her hands and knees, making sure she got every scrap of blood-stained fabric, and every piece of evidence. Her eyes strained in the dim light provided by the two flashlights, but she didn't care. She would search every grain of sand until she went blind.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital with the others?" Brass asked as he watched her diligently work but she simply shook her head.

"I need to be here," she replied, her eyes still scanning the dry earth. "I need to work the case. If I'm there, then I worry about him. I need to find out why he's in this state. I need to know what happened here."

Brass said no more and let her continue with her work. She looked at Greg's flashlight, which was still on as it lay forgotten in the dust. She photographed it before picking it up and turning it off. His kit had fallen a few feet away and looked relatively undisturbed. She found the knife that had been used to slit his throat. It was covered in dry blood. She wondered if all of it was Greg's.

And then she walked a little further and found his gun, the barrel of it bleeding crimson onto the dust. She frowned and crouched down near it, photographing it and then picking it up with two delicate fingers by the handle. "That's strange…" she whispered before bagging that as well. She recalled the gash in his throat, but his head had appeared otherwise unscathed. Nonetheless, the gun had definitely been a weapon of some kind, perhaps a club to bludgeon him in the ribs or stomach, she wasn't sure. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off of the wound in his throat.

She surveyed the scene once, twice, and three times over, but she had collected any and all signs of the 'scuffle,' as Greg had called it. She sighed, wishing there was something more, wishing the answer had been written in the sand so she could read it and be satisfied. "Nothing left but dust and darkness…"