A/N: Nearing the end folks, I promise. Hope you're still with me and again apologize for the delay. I jumped into writing this story a little sooner than I should have.

Ch. 8

Hawkes' heart felt ready to drop out of his chest. He maneuvered through the halls around CSIs and cops, heading toward the evidence locker but veering to check out the labs in search of Stella and that box. He he put on the facade of accidentally ignoring any lab tech who tried to grab his attention, and if that didn't work, feigned exasperation as though he were in a rush.

Except he wasn't feigning. He was in a rush. But was more teetering on the precipice of panic than simply exasperated.

The scream he'd heard over the phone, and the look of agony on Danny's face... if Danny had been injured just to push Ron's point, then there was a good chance his fever had been elevated. A rise in body temperature was all that was needed to turn Danny's illness into his own personal bio-hazard. It may have been wrong to think, but Hawkes was profoundly grateful that Lindsey was the second hostage in this mess. Alone with those impassive, indifferent, and potentially amoral creeps, Danny wouldn't have stood a chance. Sheldon internally squirmed on thinking it, but it was better that Danny wasn't alone in this. Although Sheldon would have preferred himself as being the second hostage. But life liked to go for being as complicated as it could get.

" Hawkes."

Sheldon stopped and froze. Heading down the hall toward him was one interloper Sheldon couldn't brush off so easily. Sheldon straightened, clearing his throat and wracking his brain for some excuse that would keep any conversation with his boss short and sweet, and already hated himself for doing so.

Mac slowed on approach and gave Sheldon a quizzical once over. " How's Danny?"

Sheldon opened his mouth. The need to tell Mac everything physically hurt to hold back.

" Uh..."

The worried look on Mac's face wasn't helping. Sheldon swallowed nervously.

" Heeee... was stable when I left. Out of it but, you know, fevers'll do that to you."

Mac nodded in agreement. " Where's Lindsey?"

Sheldon gaped. " Um... Oh! She stayed behind to help him out a little."

Mac's right eyebrow lifted. " She did? Really?"

" Yeah. Just for a little bit, make sure Danny had everything he needed. She knows she's on the clock and said she wouldn't be long. I'm going to pick her up when she's ready."

Mac's mouth turned up in one of his small smiles of mild amusement. " Lindsey? I find that... interesting."

Sheldon's heart pumped harder. "Oh. Why?"

Mac shrugged. " She just seemed rather adamant about avoiding Danny at all cost until he was better. I also thought that between the two of you, you'd be the one who'd want to stay behind and help Danny out. You're the human body expert after all."

Sweat slid down Sheldon's ribs and back. For the first time ever, Sheldon felt a prick of irritation at Mac's acute observational skills. Sheldon half-dreaded Mac had caught the scent of the former coroner's fear. The man was worse than a blood hound. " Well... Actually... There was something I wanted to check out in the evidence from the warehouse so Lindsey said she'd stay with Danny."

Mac said nothing for a moment as he held Sheldon's gaze, reading him over. Sheldon forced a flood of nonchalance he wasn't feeling into his eyes, and hoped that any inkling of worry spotted would be passed off as worry for Danny.

In some small comfort, at least Sheldon could say he wasn't totally lying to Mac, just bending the truth... into many, many shapes.

Finally, when the seconds felt as though they had dragged into minutes, Mac dipped his head in a single nod. " All right. Just be sure to bring her back as soon as you can."

Sheldon gave Mac a tight smile. " Will do. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know who has that box we found at the warehouse, would you?"

" In the lab. Stella actually wanted you and Lindsey to handle it when you two got back. She's focusing on I.D.ing the vic then wanted to look into finding the murder weapon."

Sheldon's heart now pumped for reasons other than fear. " Which lab?"

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Sheldon found the box pretty much untouched on the clean metal counter top in lab four. Sheldon snapped on the latex gloves and began removing each item from the box one at a time. For the sake of not looking suspicious, and to preserve as much evidence as possible, Sheldon went through the usual motions of picturing, bagging, and tagging. The methodical process made his nerves buzz with frustration, but habit helped him to maintain procedure.

Plus he still didn't know what it was he was looking for.

As with the brief case, the box was stuffed with files, folders, a leather notebook, and various papers either typed or scribbled on. Sheldon found various print-out maps of New York City, list of addresses, numerical data that held no meaning for Sheldon as of yet, and hand written notes written in short script and code. Scrap paper for the most part, unless the data had some importance only Ron knew about. Sheldon took pictures and put each item in a bag. He then focused on the leather notebook. The thing looked new, and expensive, but was stuffed with more wrinkled papers and maps.

Needle in a haystack. All the paper was a distraction. If Sheldon was right in his assumption that Jack wanted the authorities to find whatever it was Ron had wanted, then all the paper was the hay. Whatever it was Sheldon was looking for, it wasn't going to be paper.

He moved the paper from the notebook aside to study the notebook itself. If Jack was as smart as Ron had said, then he wouldn't have settled on paper scraps alone to hide this item. Sheldon studied the seams of the notebook, then squeezed the soft leather that creaked.

The back felt different from the front, harder actually. Turning it over, looking at the seams, he found the stitches of the seam to be heavier, thicker, and messier.

Sheldon grabbed a small pair of scissors from the equipment wrack nearby. He carefully snipped each thread over a small slip of paper to gather any skin alleles that might fall off. After the threads were cut, he removed them with tweezers, gathering each onto the paper. The slow process made his nerves vibrate louder, and his hands began to shake when he set down the last thread. Pulling the leather apart, he turned the notebook sideways and a plastic CD case dropped out to clatter on the metal table.

Sheldon's heart lurched and he exhaled a shuddering breath of triumphant relief. He snatched up the disk and was about to slip it into his pocket when he was struck with epiphany. Nodding to himself, he quickly gathered the bagged papers and other evidence to place into an evidence crate to set aside. Once that evidence was properly dealt with, he hurried from the lab and headed for the nearest computer lab.

Sheldon dropped into the seat of the first unoccupied computer he saw. Since time wasn't on his side, he didn't waste it looking at the data on the disk. He took the time only to scan it for viruses, then grabbed a blank CD and burned the info from Ron's prize onto that disk.

It was a lot of info to burn, and each minute that ticked away, Sheldon's nerves thrummed louder and louder. He drummed his fingers against the side of the keyboard, jerked his leg, tapping his heel, and chewed his lip, watching the upload like an eagle watching for the rabbit to pop out of its hole. When the burn was complete, he snagged both disks from the drive, putting each in its case. He scribbled a note on a slip of paper and taped it to the copied disk. The original disk he slipped into his pocket.

The simple action made Sheldon's stomach turn. Evidence tampering, no matter how seemingly minor, was sacrilege in the world of law enforcement. What Sheldon was going to do was down right damning. Were he self centered enough to keep quiet about this whole incident, then he would come out of it fine, albeit devoured slowly by guilt. But Sheldon wasn't self-centered. In fact, he was quite willing to face the consequences, not only to save the lives of his friends, but also if it meant Ron getting his ass shoved behind bars.

Hopefully, the copy he made would make up for his sacrilege.

Sheldon left the disk with the note on Mac's desk after assuring that Mac wasn't in. He then headed out, back to the truck where Ron waited. Sheldon pulled the disk from his pocket and tossed it to Ron on getting in.

" There. That what you wanted?"

Ron picked up the disk and smiled. " Yup. One more task, then we're done. Head back to your buddy's apartment, but park two buildings away."

Sheldon shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. " Why?"

Ron put the disk into his coat pocket, then pulled his cell out and began dialing. " Need to know basis, Hawkes. And you don't need to know."

NYC

Lindsey ran her hand through Danny's drenched hair, both to maintain a constant vigil of his temperature, and to provide a menial means of comfort. Danny was breathing in short, rapid pants like a dog suffering in the summer heat. The bruising on his chest was bright on his pale skin, forming the perfect pattern of a boot print. His eyes were closed, squeezed shut, but not because he was sleeping. He was shivering, but didn't have the strength to even curl up. The only upside to the whole situation was that Danny wasn't as boiling hot as he had been a while ago.

Danny's face was partially obscured by his arm save for his eyes. Lindsey shifted her gaze periodically from Danny's face to his heaving flank. The agonized tension in his face and pulsation of his ribcage kept back the voices wanting to convince her that Danny was dead. She was used to seeing the kind of pallor coloring Danny normally coloring the skin of a corpse. Lying near motionless on the floor in a partial fetal position, his skin being so white, him looking so thin, made him seem down right breakable, and it scared her. Any further motion other than his sides came when his whole body convulsed in a fit of coughing.

" You'll be all right, Danny," she said, though she had the feeling the words were said more for placating herself. " It'll be all right. We'll get you to a doctor as soon as we can." She removed her hand from his head to move his arm away from his face enough for a quick look. Her other hand shot to her mouth on seeing the slight blue-violet tint to Danny's lips. Tears swarmed her eyes until they blurred and ran fast and hot down her face.

" Oh no," she whimpered. " No, no, no, please no... Oh Gosh no..."

Putting her hand on his warm shoulder, she gently applied pressure until Danny started to roll onto his back. His breath caught from the pain of the motion, and his body jerked an inch off the floor when the coughing resumed. Each liquid, obstructed inhale made Lindsey's chest tighten in sympathy suffocation. She held her breath until Danny managed to pull in a noisy amount of air, then returned to his shallow, raspy panting. The blue coloring on his lips remained.

Lindsey hiccuped in a sob. " Please, Danny, keep breathing, just keep breathing..." she looked to the door, into the hall, saw the kid watching her, but knew better than to waste her breath asking for help. She simply glared at the kid, blaming him and his cohorts for what would soon be Danny's death if this mess didn't endf now. The kid stepped forward enough to be standing in the doorway.

" What's wrong now?" he demanded, trying to appear imposing, but looking tense as hell.

Lindsey sniffed and wiped the tear stains from her face with the heel of her hand. " His mouth is turning blue."

The kid shrugged. " Yeah, so?"

Lindsey lowered her eyebrows severely. " So? He can't breathe! He's suffocating, and if he doesn't get help soon, he's going to die!"

Silence settled between them enough for Danny's breathing to sound loud, harsh, and painful. Danny's hands were weakly clawing the carpet, and his foot twitched in response to his struggle for oxygen. The kid looked from Lindsey to the suffering Danny, and his attempted indifference vanished.

Not even the mask hid the kid's look of trepidation. " Um... just a sec." He rushed from the room but remained in the hallway, peering around the corner and calling to the two men in the living room. Lindsey strained her ears to snatch bits and pieces of the conversation. She heard something about a van, an oxygen tank, and sick guy suffocating. Mumbled replies were exchanged, then the kid returned looking a little less ready to wet his pants.

" Just hold up a moment. E's goin' to get the oxygen tank out of the van."

Lindsey wrinkled her brow and nose. " You have an oxygen tank?"

" Yeah. It ain't a big one, but it's come in handy for – um – the things we do." Then the kid grinned wanly. " Hell, we got helium too, we just haven't needed it yet."

E, i.e. quiet guy, didn't take long to return carrying a slim, calf-high tank into the room with a clear plastic oxygen mask in need of a good cleaning in the other hand.

" Get him on the bed," he instructed as he began piecing the mask and tubing together to hook to the tank.

Lindsey moved at Danny's head to take him under the arms, and the kid took Danny's legs. Together, they lifted him and laid him flat on his back on the bed. Lindsey pulled the crumpled sheet up to his chest. She didn't know why she did that, just felt more at ease having Danny covered, hiding his exposed, bruised, and malnourished body from these men, as though it was an affront for them to witness full on Danny's invalid state.

When the oxygen was ready, E slipped the mask over Danny's face and turned the knob on the tank. Lindsey heard the small whispered rush of air, and saw with relief the pained tension ease out of Danny's face as oxygen saturated his starving lungs. The tank E left leaning against the bed, and without another word left the room.

The kid, smiling, more relaxed, started backing into the hall. " See? We ain't gonna let him die."

At the moment, Lindsey didn't care what the men had in mind. Her focus was on Danny and watching him breathe. The relief that was filling her had her sinking to her knees at the head of his bed. She folded her arms on the mattress, and rested her head on her arms, just watching. The tank was small, probably didn't have much oxygen in it, but it had bought Danny some time.

Danny's eyes opened to narrow slits. Lindsey saw a glimmer of light when Danny rolled his eyes, then his head, in Lindsey's direction. She saw through the foggy mask the movement of his mouth, and leaned in to hear.

" On my bed," he whispered. Lindsey smiled wearily.

" Guess I managed to move your skinny butt after all," she said. " Breathing better?"

Danny's eyes slid back closed, and he nodded. Lindsey leaned to the side to snag the moist rag, wetting it in the pitcher then resuming her busy work of wiping down Danny's face. Her relief was short lived, but didn't give way to tension. She felt drained, lethargic, and plain old sad. Danny looked so worn out it was making Lindsey sleepy. He needed to rest, but knew he would fight the need as long as the creeps were in his place. Even now he forced his eyes back open to stare at her, glassy and partially aware. Truthfully, Lindsey wanted his eyes open, wanted him coherent so she didn't have to suffer only the rise and fall of his chest, waiting for the moment when the movement stopped. A little selfish, but fear tended to bring out the selfish side of people. Didn't mean she had to give into it, though.

" You need to sleep, Danny," she said. " It's all right to sleep. I'm still here, Hawkes will be back soon, then this'll be over. Just sleep and before you know it, you'll be in the hospital."

Danny blinked a long, slow blink and shook his head.

Lindsey lifted her own head off her arm. " Danny, sleep, just for a few minutes. You need the rest, please..." But Danny kept on shaking his head. Sighing, Lindsey gave his shoulder a small shove before lowering her chin back onto her arm. " You're a stubborn ass hole, you know that?"

She managed to make out his small smirk through the mask. But stubborn or not, Danny's body was calling the shots, and his eyes slid back closed. Lindsey smiled and continued wiping his face and neck. The chirp of a cell phone reached her from down the hall, and she paused, lifting her head and turning it enough to listen. She saw E pacing from the kitchen to the living room as he talked into the cell. It was a brief conversation, and after two minutes he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

" Boss needs my help," he said. " You two stay here and watch the kids. I'll be back in a little while."

" What's going on?" Creep asked.

" Nothing you need to worry about. Just watch these two, I'll be back soon."

He ignored Creep's further protests and headed out the door, throwing out final instructions to lock the door and not let anyone in. When E was gone, Creep threw his hands up with a snarled curse and vanished out of sight into the living room.

Lindsey didn't want to dwell on what that had been all about, and though she knew better than to give into hope, gave into hope anyway that E's exit was a sign that all this was coming to a close.

NYC

Hawkes pulled up to the curb two buildings down as Ron had instructed. The conversation on the phone between Ron and one of his men had been short and to the point; How are things, got the disk, come get me in the van. They arrived in time to see one of the men heading into the van and starting it up. Ron turned his head to look at Sheldon and grinned.

" Well Hawkes, guess this is where we say good-bye."

Sheldon looked back to the van pulling away in a U-turn to head toward them, but he could only see the driver, no one else. He looked back at Ron quizzically, nervously, his heart-rate climbing.

" What about my friends?"

Ron shrugged, opened the door, slid out, then turned to Sheldon. " Here's the thing, Hawkes. What happens to your friends depends on what you do next. Myself, I need time to get away, time I have thanks to your friends and my – former - colleagues. You see, your next course of action is going to be to call in the calvary in hopes of getting them to hunt me down. Except they won't be able to, not if you want to get your friends out alive. You got a choice, Hawkes. Me or them. So you'd better hurry and make that choice. Once Mitch gets wind that I ain't coming back, he's not going to be too happy. Hell, he might just take it out on Danny-boy. Didn't seem to take much a liking to the kid if you hadn't noticed."

Ron shoved the truck door shut and hurried over to the van with a small wave of farewell to Hawkes. Hawkes couldn't move. He could only watch as Ron hopped into the passenger side and the diver pulled away down the street.

Terror wrapped invisible hands around Sheldon's throat. " Oh no." But the choke hold wasn't enough to addle his thinking. He pulled out his cell, and hit the number for Mac. The phone chirped, and Sheldon said a silent prayer that he didn't get voice mail.

NYC

A/N: One more chapter to go, and I'll try to post it as soon as I can. Then maybe an epilogue after.