Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 8

The team stood by as Brass headed back to the phone to call Jack again. It was past noon now and each passing second only increased the levels of frustration they were feeling. One hostage had been released, but it felt like nothing was being done to get the remaining one out. Seemed like every officer on site was just standing around waiting for orders.

Warrick gnawed on the inside of his cheek and shook his head at what he considered to be an inane attempt to reason with an irrational individual. "This is stupid, Grissom. Kid in there's got a gun on a CSI, an injured one at that. Why they giving him so much time?"

Grissom remained where he stood with his arms crossed in front of him, staring ahead as Brass initiated the call. "He already shot him once, Warrick. And he's alive. They can't risk setting the guy off and putting Nick in any more danger than he's already in."

"Grissom, how can you be so damn calm through all of this?" Catherine was exacerbated by his cool demeanor and was quick to snap at him. "How you're able to stay calm while Nick's in there is beyond me." The frazzled woman was about ready to jump out of her skin. Her supervisor seemed to be the only one keeping his emotions in check, just like he did in every situation and every task he ever encountered. Friend being held hostage? Explaining the life cycle of the Tachinid Fly? Filing your taxes? They were all the same to Gil Grissom.

"Guys, come on. This isn't helping." Greg was upset by the whole situation too, but this wasn't going to be any easier if they started biting each other's heads off.

But Catherine's harsh tone seemed to get under Grissom's skin. He spun around so quickly to face his subordinates that they all took a small step back. "Catherine, as much as I'd like to go in there and put an end to this myself, I can't. You see these men out here? They're trained to deal with things like this with as little loss of life as possible. We just have to wait. Our part comes after. But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it and it doesn't mean I'm not concerned about one of my guys being in there." With that, Grissom turned back in search of Brass, leaving them to eye each other in surprise. The slight escape of emotion shocking the people that worked with him. Maybe he was human after all.

Brass had overheard the little exchange between the investigators. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to just run into the bank, guns blazing, and take down the asshole in there. But he wasn't willing to risk the life of a hostage, whether it was Nick Stokes or not, just so he could put an end to this miserable day. Focusing on the task at hand, he listened intently as the phone rang for a fifth and then a sixth time. Then it was answered by same man he had just been thinking about.

"Jim?" His voice reflected the way he was feeling – drained and ready to go home and sleep for days.

Brass nodded into the phone. "Yeah, kid. It's me. Glad to hear your voice, but I was hoping to talk to your buddy in there. Try to get him to listen to reason again." He found Gil's face amongst the group at the command center and made a gesture towards the phone so he could listen in. Grissom took two steps and had the head phones to his ears in no time at all.

"I think I can spare you the trouble." Brass raised his brows at the Texan's statement. "We're ready to come out. But there are a few conditions. Not asking for much."

"I'm listening Nick. Whatever will get us out of this hot Vegas sun." He shared a disbelieving look with Grissom.

"We're coming out together, Jack and I. I'm coming out first, he'll follow behind me." Nick needed to take a few extra breaths to get every word out.

"Unarmed, I assume?"

"Yeah, unarmed. All weapons stay in here."

"Nick, we know he had access to at least four weapons."

"Yeah, I know. They'll all stay here, inside."

"Okay, anything else?"

"Gotta have SWAT stand down. No one near the entrance, no surprises, Jim."

"No surprises, Nicky." Brass signaled to the rest of the team with a nod of the head that, finally, something good was happening.

"He'll come out, get down and you'll need to come cuff him. Has to be you."

"That's it?"

A deep sense of relief emanated from Nick's words. "That's it."

"Good. Don't know how happy people will be to hear that."

Nick let out a soft snort as he pictured the graveyard shift in his mind. "I bet."

"How soon?"

"Soon as you tell me the front's clear and you're ready."

"Okay. I'm giving the order now. Give them a minute and look outside, you'll see SWAT pulling back. We're ready when you are."

"'kay."

"See you in a few, Nicky."

Brass placed the phone down with a sigh. "They're coming out."

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Nick placed the receiver in the cradle and looked back at Jack. "You ready to do this, man?"

He'd become sulky and withdrawn since Nick had gotten on the phone. The fear of walking outside the lobby doors, of what was eventually going to happen to him, of what was going to happen to Tommy, and whether his family would even claim him, had the man feeling numb. All he could do was nod.

"I need you to put the weapons down, Jack. We can't go out there with anything on us." Nick swayed where he stood and reached for the desk to steady himself. He didn't want to rush him, but he didn't know how long he was going to be able to stay vertical on his own. This was his first time standing since he fell to the ground earlier that morning. A fat drop of sweat trickled down his left cheek, but the goose bumps on his arms and the shivers that traveled up his spine confirmed that the a/c was working and maybe a little to well at that.

Without a sound, the large man deposited Nick's service piece onto the desk. He then reached back with his right hand and retrieved his own weapon from where it had been tucked into his pants and placed it next to the police-issued Glock.

"Have anything else?"

"No. I'm done."

"Okay. Let's go."

He thought maybe he'd whispered his last words because Jack stood in place, his legs firmly rooted to the cold marble floor.

"Jack? I'm here with you. We're going out together. Detective Brass is going to meet us outside, no one else."

Jack's dull brown eyes connected with Nick's own and he began taking little steps to the door. Nick was thankful that he didn't have to work too hard to keep up with him, but no matter how slow their pace, each small step jarred his injured upper body and he bit his lip to keep from voicing his discomfort.

They stopped at the doors and Jack pushed the barricade over to the side once more. Nick stepped forward and peered through the blinds to make sure the coast was clear. He could see the barrier of police cruisers out front. SWAT and uniforms were hunkered down behind the vehicles. In the center of it all was Jim Brass, slightly hunched over but making his appearance known to Nick and his captor.

"It's clear." Nick looked back at the man. Jack took that as his queue to unlock and open the door, allowing Nick to head out first.

Despite the amount of people gathered outside, Jim Brass could swear he could hear of heard a pin drop in the stillness that surrounded him. But it wasn't the sound of a pin falling that he heard in the next few minutes, but the sound of a lock turning and a door opening.

They'd followed through. SWAT had retreated from their positions near the building. Didn't mean they hadn't left the sharpshooters in place, just in case Jack was the one to bring any tricks to the party. Jim just hoped they wouldn't be needed.

After what felt like an eternity, a battered Nick Stokes gingerly stepped outside. It was the first time his team had seen him since just before the end of their shift, each responding differently to the sight before them: Catherine held a hand over her mouth, a new urge to cry washing over her; Warrick stood as still as could be, the usual hands on hips, the only movement coming from nostrils that flared with each heavy breath he expelled; Greg resumed the same nervous bathroom dance he had performed back at the lab while listening to the only connection they had to Nick; Sara's eyes filled with tears as she held her hands together in front of her mouth as if in prayer; and Grissom? As much as he wanted to be the picture of the unflappable superior, the sight of his CSI caused him drop his arms from across his chest and an absolute look of sorrow washed across his features.

The man before them was dead on his feet. His body rocking back and forth as he progressed further out from the nightmare he'd experienced. His clenched jaw and rapid breathing all signs of the pain and the nerves that were flooding his system.

Once he had cleared the door, a taller figure appeared behind Nick, arms outstretched from his body. The officers tensed at seeing the large man emerge, but they remained in their positions.

Captor and captive made their way out, about ten feet down the walkway, when Nick came to a stop. He slowly turned, blinked a few times and looked up at Jack. "Okay. Just like I said. Down on your knees, lie on the ground. Nice and sl-slow."

Jack responded with another nod and followed the instructions he was given, slowly lowering himself to a kneeling position, one at a time, then placing his hands on the ground to lower himself to the pavement.

Once he saw that Jack was down, he looked back for Jim and nodded, not knowing if he had the energy to speak anymore. Brass never hesitated once Nick gave him the sign. He cautiously walked across the parking lot, wanting to ask Nick if he was alright as he passed him. But he knew he needed to make sure that Jack was taken care of first. He reached the man lying on the floor and wordlessly kneeled next to him, grabbed his wrists one at a time and secured them behind his back in steel handcuffs.

After patting down the young man to confirm there were no other weapons on him, Jim called out to his friend. "Nicky?"

Nick was in a daze as he watched Jack being cuffed. A thousand different things were going through his mind. Pain, confusion, disbelief and relief were making things fuzzy. Someone was calling his name, but there was pounding in his head that was making everything hard to see and hear now. All he could think to do was to walk forward to find someone to help him, but his feet wouldn't cooperate and he stumbled. The last thing he heard before he hit the ground was that same voice yelling.

Tbc…

This is the penultimate chapter. I hope everyone is enjoying reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Lots of thanks for all of the positive reviews. Especially to everbetty for her advice. I think this went a little differently then I first intended because of your words of wisdom.