Greg Sanders stared at the clock, trying to intimidate it into moving faster. There was no use. The hands continued their horrendously slow ticking, and it took everything in his quickly waning willpower to continue putting together the vase Nick had dumped on him. An hour had passed since his partner had left, and he'd only been able to connect about half a dozen more pieces to the seemingly endless puzzle.

As the minutes dragged, Greg pushed along, holding piece after jagged piece under the microscope, comparing the striae until he found a match. Once he did, he photographed it, then applied only a smidge of glue to the piece and attached it to its rightful place on the ruined vase.

Though only half of it was repaired, he'd already discovered the impact point where it had shattered against the victim's skull. He turned his complete attention to that specific area. Thankfully, the solid, reddish-brown color of the clay had given way to a swirling pattern of black spirals and twisting lines, creating a spidery design around the circumference of the vase. It would have been beautiful if not for the cracks that marred the surface. The only thing that mattered, though, was that the pattern gave him an idea of what piece to look for.

After another painstaking hour of work that left his lower back with a dull ache, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and put it on speaker, continuing his work despite the interruption. "Sanders."

"Hey, Greg." Catherine. Why was she calling? "I need you to do something."

"And that is?" he asked absently, plucking a lone hair from one of the pieces and securing it in a bindle.

"Tell everyone there'll be a meeting at six am." She paused, and he heard someone speak in the background. "I'll take care of that," she said to the person who spoke, then said to Greg, "Also, set up a conference call with Hodges, Wendy, and Henry."

He sat back, picking up the phone and switching it off speaker. "What's going on, Cath?"

"Something big. Just make sure you get ahold of as many people as possible. It should be around nine in North Carolina when you call, so you should be able to get ahold of Hodges and Wendy pretty easy. Henry might be harder."

"I'll do my best," he replied, holding back the 'that's what she said' joke out of respect for his superior and Henry. He disconnected, knowing he'd have to set aside the vase to do as Catherine asked.

After returning everything to the evidence locker, Greg checked his watch. Five thirty. He didn't have much time. Hurrying to gather up all the lab techs and CSIs, he continued to wonder why he was doing it. Catherine had said it was big, whatever it was.

He shrugged to himself. Greg would just do as he was told, because that was all he could do. He pulled out his phone and dialed Henry.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Catherine asked Brass, who had called her abruptly and told her to set up the meeting at the lab. "Two days ago, you were content with none of us knowing. Now you want everyone to know?"

"Look, Cath," he started, the cop in him coming out full force. "They're gonna find out one way or another. Gedda is unpredictable. Right now, he's focused on Lindsey as his means to an end, but that could change any time. He's been hunting Warrick for two years, and God only knows who he thinks matters."

"Who do you think he could go after, if his focus shifts from Lindsey?" Part of her knew the answer that would come, but she needed to hear it from him.

"You, for one. Tina and Eli would normally be Gedda's first target, but they'd disappeared into oblivion long before he'd started his search for Warrick."

"Not completely," Warrick chimed in. "Apparently she and Catherine kept in touch after my funeral. He may have some idea where they are, but since Tina didn't take my name when we got married, it's doubtful."

Brass gave Catherine a sidelong glance that showed his curiosity, but he didn't voice it. "In any case, he seems to have taken an interest in the Willows clan. But he could target anybody from the old team. Grissom and Sara are possible targets, as well as Greg. You too, Nick," he added, with a backward gesture to the man sitting behind him. "And since we know he has a tendency to go after an extension of his target, that puts Mandy in danger, too. There are FBI agents positioned outside your apartment," Brass continued, smothering the budding worry that was clear in Nick's face before it could fully manifest. "They're going to follow Mandy back to the lab."

"Good," Nick said, his voice a little unsure. "She sounded better than she did when I sent her home, but that's probably not gonna last after this."

There was a pause before Brass began again. "The FBI also stationed agents at Henry's place, and a pair of agents was sent to North Carolina. It wasn't completely necessary, though. Of everyone, Hodges and Wendy are probably the safest. They're the only ones that could be on Gedda's radar that aren't anywhere near Las Vegas."

Catherine sighed dejectedly, her wariness growing. She knew personally that distance from danger didn't always mean complete security. Her daughter's predicament was proof of that. Catherine kept trying to convince herself that Lindsey was safe back at the house--there were three trained agents guarding her, making her practically untouchable.

That didn't mean she was totally safe.

She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to punch the dashboard. She couldn't lose her control. She may have been pushed beyond her normal limits, but that didn't make the situation completely hopeless. She just needed to turn the tables so they were in her favor.

But how?