Andy Sipowicz sat in the corner of the room, steaming black coffee in one hand and a greasy burger in the other, as he watched Eric log the tyre and foot impressions into evidence.
"Horatio would kill you if he saw you eating that in here," Eric said, not looking away from the mould he was carefully removing from its evidence bag.
Andy huffed and took a large bite out of his double cheeseburger, answering with his mouth full of beef, lettuce and cheese. "Well, he can tear a strip off me when he comes back then, can't he?" he replied as a dollop of tomato ketchup began sliding down his chin.
The comment caused Eric to stop what he was doing momentarily; he turned and adjusted the lapels on his lab coat. "You think we're going to find him in time?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.
He'd told himself countless times that they would find the redhead and bring him back in one piece but with every minute that ticked by he felt his conviction beginning to crumble. It had been a long time since Eric had felt this helpless, remembering all the times that his brother-in-law had his back, he knew he could always rely on Horatio to get him out of whatever mess he'd found himself in. Now was the time to return the favour, but he couldn't help feeling like he was failing the other man, the team had spent the last 36 hours chasing their tails and were getting nowhere fast.
Andy took his time chewing the food in his mouth and took a swig of coffee to wash the remnants down with. "If there's one thing I know about John, it's that he's a survivor. How many men do you know who could pull off what he did back in New York? If that were me I would've probably ended up dead, John's come too far to give up without a fight."
"He's stronger than you think, Eric. No one could have gone through what he did back then without a shit-load of courage. The guy's got balls of steel and right now he needs you and the rest of your team to stop moping and start acting like you know what you're doing."
The shock on Eric's face registered but still he continued, he wouldn't be silenced until he'd said his piece. "You think this is what he'd want you to do, give up without a fight? I've never, ever seen John back down from anything, no matter how many times he's been beaten down he always got back up again, faster and stronger. I thought you lot were supposed to have been hand-picked by him? Looks like he got it wrong."
Andy's next words were cut off as Eric grabbed him roughly by his shirt and pushed him back towards the desk at the opposite end of the room. "You think we're not doing everything we can to find him?" he asked angrily.
"Horatio means everything to us, you think that there's nothing we wouldn't do to find him?"
"If this is your best, John's as good as dead anyway," Andy replied as he stared into the furious brown eyes of the other man, feeling the smack to the jaw before he actually saw the fist come flying towards him, sending him and a numerous
items from the desk crashing to the floor.
He touched his jaw tenderly as he looked up at the man standing over him breathing heavily. "Now that's more like it, kid," he said as he pulled himself into a sitting position and wiped the blood from his lip. "Now you're ready to really focus on finding him."
He pulled himself up into a standing position and found Eric still staring at him, "What are you waiting for? Get on with it!" he said, pointing to the evidence.
An awkward silence stretched between the two men as Eric concentrated his efforts on analysing the tyre impressions he'd lifted from Calleigh's driveway. After scanning the tread pattern into the computer he ran a search for a match to the one he'd found. He kept his eyes on the screen, trying to ignore the sounds of Andy's heavy breathing as he slurped at yet another cup of coffee.
At last the computer bleeped at him, bringing up the search results. Eric read aloud from the screen, "I've found a positive match to a Goodyear tyre with a 16" wheelbase."
"How's that going to help us?"
"This tyre is factory-fitted on Ford diesel vans, the E Series model to be precise. We already know from Travers that diesel and motor oil were found at the scene. This confirms what kind of vehicle Horatio was abducted in. I bet if we run a search for stolen vans that at least one E Series will pop up. If we find where it was stolen from maybe we can find where they're holding him."
Eric ran the search and waited with baited breath, casting nervous glances to Andy who was leaning against a desk at the far end of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his right foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
Now that he'd had time to calm down, he felt guilty about punching the older man. He'd tried, and failed, several times to find the words to apologise to Andy but every time he opened his mouth the words would not come out.
"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out, unable to hold his guilt in any longer.
Andy snorted at him, "What have you got to be sorry for, kid?"
"For punching you, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you," he replied contritely.
"Nah, don't worry about it. You hit like a girl anyway."
He couldn't help but raise a small smile at the other man, as rough as their first meeting had been he found himself warming to the gruff New Yorker. Once a person looked past the dour exterior it was clear to see that beneath it was a good man, impatient, tetchy and most certainly fiery, but all in all, a good man.
He knew what he wanted to say but wasn't quite sure of the right way to go about it, throwing caution to the wind, he asked anyway. "When we find him and this is all over, do you think you could maybe tell me what Horatio used to be like back in New York? He's always kept things pretty much to himself since I've known him, he's somewhat of a mystery to us here," he smiled wryly.
"Kid, I could tell you stories about John that would make your hair curl. Are there any good steakhouses in Miami?" Eric nodded his head, "You buy me a slap-up meal and I'll tell you anything you want to know about him. After we find him, deal?"
The computer terminal bleeped before Eric had a chance to answer, "Looks like we've got four possible matches in the Miami Dade area. Wanna come along for the ride?"
Andy stood up and straightened out his clothes that hung awkwardly off of his bulky frame, "If it's a choice between you and that feisty gun lady I think I'd pick you any day. Lead the way, kid."
He sat with his head bowed, listening as he heard Danny dialling a number. His head shot up when he heard Calleigh's voice answer the phone.
"Ah, CSI Duquesne, I believe. How nice to speak to you at last."
"Where is he you asshole, what have you done with Horatio?" she spat, venom in her voice.
Danny cast a glance to his bound prisoner, "He's still in one piece at the moment, how long that remains the case is up to you and your team."
"What do you want from us, from him? Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you."
"I wouldn't be so eager to volunteer your services, Miss Duquesne. You have no idea what I might have in mind for your beloved lieutenant."
"Have you just rung to gloat, or was there something you wanted?"
"The boy, he's there with you, isn't he?"
"What boy?"
"Don't play games with me, Miss Duquesne; otherwise it will be Mr Kelly who will pay for it. Put the boy on the line. Now."
He sat and listened as he heard shuffling emanating from the phone as Danny held it closer to him. His heart ached to hear Calleigh's voice, the sadness and fear in it was all too easy for him to pick up on.
"Say hello to your father."
Nothing was heard for a moment or two until a shaky, male voice came on the line.
"Dad? Dad, it's Kyle, if you can hear me I want you to know that I love you. We're coming to get you, just hold on!"
He didn't hear whatever else was said, his mind was consumed with thoughts of his son, a son he never knew he had. The logical part of his brain screamed at him not to believe it, that it was all part of an elaborate ruse created by Danny and designed to break him. Something deep inside him knew that this time it was not a trick, that Danny was telling him the truth. He'd heard the pain in the young man's voice, pain like that could not be faked. The pieces began to slowly fall into place, the boy he was standing next to in the photo and the voice that he'd heard, he knew they were one and the same.
Panic surged through him as he realised that his captors knew where his son was, his own experience had taught him that these men would do whatever it took to get the information they wanted. He wished now that he could give Danny and Gianni what they wanted but he knew he couldn't. He cursed his damaged memory, the information that his torturers wanted was locked away somewhere deep within his mind, a place so deep that he couldn't access them. If he couldn't reach deep enough inside himself to give his captors what they wanted he knew that it would be his son that would pay the ultimate price.
And so he screamed, yelling at the top of his lungs as he begged Calleigh and Kyle to get away from Miami, to get away as far as they could. He pulled fiercely at the ropes that kept him bound to the chair, tugging so hard that he felt himself topple over and land heavily on his injured arm. Tears of pain clouded his eyes as he lay helpless on the floor, his fit of anger soon dissipated as it ate at what little reserves of strength he had. He lay, breathing heavily on the floor as he watched the boots of Danny Malucci leave the room, slamming the door shut firmly behind him. The sound of the deadbolt being pulled echoed that of his tortured mind, as it once again retreated in on itself and left him alone in the dark nothingness.