Chapter 12

A/N: Wow! So many reviews. Thank you all! For those of you who were concerned that the story is dragging out too long, have no fear. If Collier acts the way I think he will, there are only 3-4 more chapters to go. A story where the majority of the action takes place in the same location is incredibly hard to keep interesting.

And for the "reviewer" who said the story was getting old, to stop with the cliffhangers, etc... Don't like? Don't read. It's that simple.

The break room was silent except for the hitched, ragged breaths of the people inside its walls. No traffic sounds reached him from outside. No noises filtered in from the other offices on the floor. No equipment hummed with dormant power or usage. No phones rang.

For twenty seconds, no one moved. No one spoke. The rush of blood through Hawkes' body, a usually soundless process, became uncomfortably loud in his head, a kettledrum pounding in sync with his pulse. The stillness was otherworldly, surreal, and stifling.

Jaw loose in disbelief, Hawkes stared at Danny Messer, his mind unable to grasp the truth. He knew what was supposed to happen. He'd braced himself for it.

Have I gone mad? How ... how could ... This can't be real.

When Danny pulled the trigger, the gun hadn't fired. The .38's hammer had fallen on an empty cylinder.

He was alive--frozen in place, stunned into a stupor, but alive.

Collier pushed himself to his feet, groaning at the creak and pop of his hip and knee joints. The elderly captor walked over and laid a hand on Messer's frozen shoulder.

"'Upon such sacrifices the gods themselves throw incense.'(1) You have done well, Detective Messer. Very well indeed." The professor wrestled the empty gun out of Danny's clawed fingers and slipped it into his pocket. "Return to your place. Sit down and relax. Leave the rest to me."

Eyes vague and glassy, Danny stared at Collier but did not move. None of the words appeared to register. He staggered in place, body trembling so bad he could hardly stand. His hand retained its shape around the revolver's grip long after Collier had removed the weapon.

The professor stepped back and gave Danny a brief nudge in the direction of the other two hostages. Hawkes stood but was nearly overcome by a wave of dizziness from the old and the new injuries to his head. The doctor ignored the wavering vision and lightheadedness and moved to his friend's side.

"Danny?" The traumatized detective stared off into space. His unfocused gaze saw nothing. "Come over here, man. Sit down and let me look at you."

Danny followed where Sheldon led. Getting him to sit wasn't difficult. It more closely resembled a guided collapse than it did a coordinated descent to the floor.

His skin is cold and clammy. Hard body tremors. Pulse fast, weak, thready. Respirations fast and shallow. Sheldon pulled his keychain from his pocket and flicked the attached penlight back and forth across Danny's eyes. Pupils are slightly dilated.

The examination confirmed his initial diagnosis.

"Danny? You're in shock. It'll pass. You're going to be fine." He tried to rub life back into Messer's limp shoulders and arms. Driven beyond anger, Sheldon turned toward Collier and glowered. "What was that all about? What were you trying to prove? Are you trying to destroy him?"

"Say nothing more until I give you leave," Collier commanded. The professor stepped around his prisoners and reached for the phone. "I have a telephone call to make."

CSI:NY CSI:NY

Mac Taylor sat in his office chair and stared at the silent phone, dread knotting his insides.

Larry Baynes and Tom Robbins stood behind Mac's desk, whispering privately to each other. Stella Bonacera and Don Flack perched on the edge of the couch, ready to stand at an instant's notice.

"What did Danny mean by a 'pact'?" Stella asked, looking to Mac for the answer. "What could Collier possibly want from Danny?"

"There was something in Danny's voice ..." Mac shrugged, ground his teeth in frustration and said, "I can't shake the feeling he was saying goodbye."

Stella rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms and whispered, "I heard it, too."

"The threat to the hostages is escalating," Lt. Robbins said. "It's moving out of everyone's control, ours and Collier's both. Detective Monroe's situation is critical. We have to get her out as soon as possible, but Collier's grandson is dead, so we have nothing to offer in trade. Our tactical options are limited to one: assault. We need to go in. Now."

"If you rush in there, guns blazing, he could kill one, two, or all three of his hostages before you can take him down," Stella argued. She studied the clock on the wall. "It's 8:49. We still have over three hours before his deadline."

"We might have three hours," Mac sighed. "The questions is, does Lindsay? You heard what Danny said. We're losing her. We need to get her out."

"If the situation stretches all the way to midnight, Collier will expect a desperate rush close to the deadline," Larry Baynes, the department negotiator, added. "He might not expect it this early in the evening. Now might well be the best time for a rapid assault."

Flack countered, "The only sure-fire way to incapacitate Collier is to use tear gas, but we can't risk it. The gas could kill Lindsay."

"Any armed action should be our last option, not our fastest," Stella said. "We're playing with real lives here."

"Mac?" Robbins turned to the lead detective. "I have authority from the Chief to lead this operation, but they're your people. You know them best. You make the call."

Mac wanted to think it through but something told him, he didn't have time to think and pace.

"We don't have much choice," Mac confessed. "Without the camera, we don't know what's happening in there. I won't risk their lives unnecessarily, but Collier is growing more violent by the second. He's forcing Danny to do something as 'payment' for the camera--something that involves a gunshot. I won't risk a delay that will hurt or kill any of our people in that room. I say we go in. Now."

Though far from convinced, Stella and Don bowed to Mac's authority. They nodded their support and moved to follow Taylor, Baynes, and Rollins out of the office.

The ringing telephone brought them to a sudden halt.

Mac shared a nervous look with everyone before he hurried to his desk, pressed the speaker option and punched the incoming phone line.

"Mac Taylor."

"I propose a trade, Detective Taylor. A working television so that I may see the Governor's announcement in exchange for Detective Monroe's release."

A round of gasps shot around the room. Stella pressed both palms against her stomach, breathed deep, and closed her eyes in grateful prayer.

For the first time since the start of the siege, Mac Taylor felt hope. They could finally get Lindsay some proper care. He glanced toward Baynes and Robbins. The negotiator and the SWAT commander both nodded agreement. The trade was more than fair.

"We can have the TV cart there in five minutes."

"Then we are agreed."

"Professor Collier, Danny said something about a pact. A deal the two of you made--something about us hearing a shot. What did he mean?"

"Detective Messer has proven his courage and his love to my satisfaction. To this day, I still have such a depth of feeling for my Elizabeth. For his sake and the sake of that love, I will release Lindsay Monroe to receive proper medical treatment."

Whatever Danny did to change Collier's mind, Mac could only pray it didn't extract too high a price. In any case, he would be glad to get his wounded detective out of that room.

"Thank you."

"Do not thank me. Detective Messer will pay for your lack of caution for many years to come."

Mac's stomach flipped over. "What do you mean 'pay'? Collier, what did you do?"

"I did nothing but offer him a choice." Collier's voice took on a dark, malicious, stabbing tone. "The actions were his own."

"Let me speak to him."

"I think not. He is somewhat ... unsettled. He is in no condition to provide intelligent conversation."

"Hawkes then. Let me speak to Sheldon Hawkes."

"I would ordinarily reject to such an imperious demand, but since you should speak with him regarding Detective Monroe's condition, I will grant the request." Clicking, bumping sounds and footsteps played through the speakers, as though Collier set down the receiver and stepped back. "Get over here, negro. Reassure Detective Taylor and make the transfer arrangements. Say nothing more, else I will change my mind and squander one of my hostages."

Hearing the racial insult, Mac growled low in his throat. Don matched it with a muttered cussword. Everyone in the room shifted in place, dismayed by the bigoted, intolerant tilt of Collier's voice.

"Mac?"

"Sheldon, what's happening in there? Are you okay? What about Danny and Lindsay? Talk to me, dammit!"

"Lindsay is unconscious. She's lost too much blood. I'm ... well, my ear is ringing and I have one hell of a headache, but otherwise I'm fine. Danny ..."

"What about Danny? What did Collier do to him?"

"It's a long story. I really can't get into it now. Lindsay doesn't have that kind of time. Mac, bring the TV stand with a working television to the door of the break room. Adam can set it up with a wireless signal router so that Collier can receive the right channels. Once the TV is inside, bring a gurney to the door and leave it there. I'll bring Lindsay out and put her one it. The medics can then transport her to the hospital."

"Is Danny hurt?"

Sheldon was silent for too long then finally sighed and said, "He's not physically harmed. Collier played with his head a bit. He's shocky but he'll be all right given some time."

Mac didn't like the explanation, not one bit, but let it go. He wouldn't get any more information until the crisis ended.

"Okay, Shel. Give me five minutes. The television and the gurney are on their way."

"Mac ... Lindsay isn't the only one deteriorating."

"Collier? Is he listening?"

"Yes. And no."

Mac held his breath, thought hard for a long moment, and said, "I get it. Once Lindsay's clear, we'll reconsider rushing the room. If you see the outer office lights flicker, give us thirty seconds then expect us to come in. Let Danny know then be ready to duck for cover, okay?"

"Yeah. Got it. Thanks, Mac."

"We're going to get you all out of there, Sheldon. That's a promise."

"I know, Mac."


QUOTES:

(1) "Upon such sacrifices the gods themselves throw incense."
- William Shakespeare