A/N: Hi everyone. Thank you all for your reviews. Got a chap ready quicker than I expected :) I do love writing this though, so it does get kind of addictive and gives me more motivation. Many thanks to my best bud SSC for the encouragement :) She loves it too. And my hat and he is very much very prominent on my head right now! The chapter hasn't been beta'd so if any mistakes are present I cower and take full responsibly.

On with the mayhem...mwahahahaha

Chapter 9

The three men exited the trailer to be immediately met by Jeffery McKeen. "So where are we at?" he asked sternly, arms folded.

"Same as we were an hour ago, Grissom replied. "They're still in there with my wife and we are still out here."

McKeen narrowed his eyes but he backed off when he noticed the tired look on Grissom's face. "Still no word?"

Brass stepped forward. "They allowed us to talk to Sara, briefly."

McKeen heard the information but didn't react on it, he just seemed to think. "Well, that's something..." he finally mumbled. "Any confirmation as to whether my sister's husband is in there? No one has heard from him since his shift ended."

The captain fiddled with his badge. "We haven't exactly had the right opportunity to ask."

"Well then I suggest you do."

Grissom's right brow soared. "Just like that?"

"Yeah." The Under Sheriff nodded. "Just like that. We are in connection with them by phone are we not?"

"The negotiator suggests we give them a little time," Brass cut in.

McKeen smiled sarcastically. "Well, we'll see about that," he said. He stepped away and headed for the unit.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

"Hello," Ryan said, placing his cell to his ear.

"Mr Murphy..." a broad southern accent greeted him, male. "...are we finding ourselves in a bit of a predicament right now?"

Ryan looked around and to the hostages surrounding him. "How do you know what kind of situation I'm in right now?"

The voice laughed. "Word travels fast, Mr Murphy, and there is such a thing called TV...You're all over it," his voice deepened. "Not very smart..."

"Whatever situation I'm in right now, I'll deal with it." He looked at his watch. "I will still make the drop as discussed."

"Are you sure about that?"

Ryan squeezed his cell tightly and turned away from watching eyes. "Yes," he growled.

"Well..." the voice continued, "...things have changed."

"Like what?" Ryan was not impressed.

The caller paused. "The drop for one. New location..."

"What?"

"I think you heard me, Mr Murphy. I will not come into the city with all the heat on you right now."

Feeling the veins in his forehead pulse, Ryan began to pace. "I'm not happy about this," he rambled.

The man on the phone sneered. "Shame. Do you want to sell your goods or not?"

"Yes."

"Good, oh...and the price has been cut too."

Ryan's eyes almost bulged out of the sockets. "You what?" he shouted.

Even if they weren't before everyone's eyes were upon him now.

"You have inconvenienced me, Mr Murphy. Not only with the location but having to sell goods that will now be more than hot once received. My wife, especially, doesn't like the aggravation."

The hostage taker picked up the baseball bat again. "So what are you offering?"

"One point two five."

"One point two five?" Ryan swung the bat in mid air and everyone in the building cringed. "That's half a million lower than what we agreed!"

"Take it or leave it. I don't appreciate having to change my travel plans."

"Fine!" Ryan spat. "Where and when?"

"Oh same time, you don't get that extended. You're not there at the time we agreed, then, I'm gone. Place is..."

Sara watched nervously. This was definitely a heated conversation and she'd come to conclude it was some sort of exchange. For whatever it was she didn't know but she had a feeling the merchandise was in the bag they had brought in with them. No doubt that was the reason everyone was in this predicament.

Ryan suddenly screamed and threw his phone across the store, shattering it into who knew how many pieces. Jay looked on aghast as did everyone else as Ryan suddenly went on a rampage with baseball bat, smashing everything within distance...

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

The supervisor, the captain and the young CSI followed the Under Sheriff into the command unit.

Colin spun around, noting the intrusion and the new face amongst the group. "What's going on?" he asked.

Brass stepped forward. "Dexter, this is, Under Sheriff, Jeffery McKeen."

The negotiator extended his hand. "Oh...pleasure..."

"Let's cut the formalities shall we?"

Colin looked confused. "I'm sorry?"

McKeen turned to face Grissom. "Does he even know why I'm here?"

Grissom fought with his frustration for this man, he showed absolutely no empathy for anyone but himself. "No," he replied blankly.

After a disgruntled sigh McKeen pointed to the phone. "I want to talk to them...now."

Scratching his head, Colin looked a little bemused. "Can someone explain to me what's going on here?"

Brass stepped forward. "It's possible the victim in the store may be..." he nodded his head towards the Under Sheriff, "...a family member."

"Oh...um...still...we need to consider our approach here. Information can be gathered but we have to go about the right way of doing it. They are pissed off enough without us enticing them."

McKeen didn't look impressed. "Who put you in charge?" he asked with a smile, being sarcastic.

Colin smiled back. "Actually, the state, when they called me to control this negotiation. So as far as...ringing through goes...I am in charge."

Narrowing his eyes the Undersheriff took a step towards the hired help. "My sister requires information as to whether her husband is dead or not. Does that help?" he snarled.

Looking to Grissom and Brass in turn, the negotiator sat back at his desk. "I wish people would start giving me all the god damn information I need," he grumbled, picking up the phone. "I'll try...ok?"

Everyone stepped forward as Colin dialled. Grissom and McKeen exchanged a look that was as equally anxious. Probably the first thing they'd ever had in common.

Colin pulled the phone from his ear and looked confused. "The line is dead..."

Grissom's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean the lines dead?" His voice shook as he asked the question.

Holding the phone out, Colin gestured for Grissom to take it. The CSI did so and held it to his ear. "I mean the line is dead. Like...the phone has been cut off..."

Shakily, Grissom handed the appliance back to the negotiator. "This isn't good," he mumbled.

"Try another phone," McKeen suggested. "What about Sara's?"

Grissom looked at him, brow raised. The Under Sherriff had actually made a reasonably good suggestion. He pulled his cell from his pocket and flipped it open. He scrolled to Sara's name and was about to hit call when he was interrupted.

"May I?" Colin asked, holding out his hand. "I should make the call in case they answer."

Puffing out his cheeks, Grissom reluctantly handed over his cell.

Colin gave him a weak smile and hit call. After a few seconds he sighed and handed the phone back to Grissom. "That's dead too."

The CSI shook his head. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Colin replied looking to all. "But we need to find out. And, as we have no options with phones...Captain..." he turned to Brass, "...can you get me a megaphone?"

"Sure thing," Brass responded and was gone in search of the appliance Colin required.

McKeen walked to the monitors. Peering through each screen in turn he rubbed his chin. Everything suddenly flickered...the monitors...the lights...as a flash of lightening encased them. A boom of thunder followed. "I love storms in Vegas," he said retuning his attention to the group. "Now, while we wait...would someone kindly tell me about the idiots across the street who think they can do what they want to in my city..."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

The hostages cowered inside the store. The old couple trembled as they held each other, the store clerk kept his eyes pinned to the floor, Suzanne and Joe tightly held hands and Sara just watched in feared amazement as Ryan finished his few minutes of utter demolition.

The older brother leaned against the counter and attempted to regain his breath. Sweat pooled from his forehead and he wiped away the perspiration on his shirt sleeve.

"Ryan...Bro..." Jay held a reassuring hand out to his brother as he stood panting, eyes piercing and angry, looking into nothing. His hands were cut due to the backlash of damage he had unleashed with the bat, several shards of glass still stuck in his skin. "...calm down, man, what the hell is going on?"

The younger man reached out and prised the weapon from his brother's fingers. Ryan didn't fight him.

"Bro you destroyed like...a lot." He kinked his head to the counter. "Your cell is in pieces and...you smashed the store phone up too dude...plus everyone else's phones... How are we going to get out of here now? How do we talk to anyone?"

Ryan looked around at the chaos. Fridges were smashed, shelves destroyed, displays in pieces... he then saw the phone on the wall was no more, just several pieces of crushed plastic and metal were all that remained of it on the floor. He sighed and then winced as the pain in his hands intensified.

Sara watched as he lifted his hands to look at them. They were definitely cut badly. After a moments consideration she pushed herself from the chair and approached the brothers. Instantly, Ryan's eyes shot to her and he reached his hand to his belt to where his gun was.

Holding up a quick and defensive hand Sara stopped dead in her tracks. "No...no..." she pleaded, "...that won't be necessary..." Her eyes fixed on the gun as Ryan's hand coiled around it.

"What do you want, Sara? I'm a little busy right now if you can't already see that," he spat. He winced again and held his free hand to his mouth, sucking away some of the blood which was pooling quite quickly from his injuries.

She nodded to his hand. "You need your wounds sorting...I can...if you'll let me."

He looked at her with suspicious eyes. "You...want to help...me?

Sara slowly nodded.

"Why?"

"Because it's what I do," she replied. "Do I want to be here? No. But I am. People are terrified in here, including me, and you bleeding all over the place won't make anything any better. And...I don't think it's going to improve your mood any..." She tried to smile and almost managed it when Ryan removed his hand from his gun.

Ryan looked to his brother. "Go see if the first aid kit is still in one piece."

Sara waited as Jay stepped over the debris and moved to the back of the counter. "Yeah it is," he said holding up the medical supply box.

"Bring it," Ryan directed.

"Could...he bring another chair too?" Sara asked. "It will be easier if we sit..."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

A second chair from behind the counter was placed near Sara's.

Sara sat, and Ryan sat opposite, placing the first aid box on the floor beside him. Their knees touched and Sara swallowed hard. He reached his hand into his pocket, grimacing as his wounds scrapped along the material and he pulled out his knife. It was quite a task for him to flick open the blade given the pain in his fingers but he managed it.

"Your hands..." he requested.

Slowly, Sara held out her hands and he took a hold of them with his free hand, dribbling blood onto her skin.

"Keep still," he said softly and as he had done once before, carefully cut the tape and then gently peeled it away from her wrists.

She sighed once the binding had been removed and rubbed her now very sore skin.

Ryan picked up the box and handed it to her. Flipping open the lid Sara rummaged through the contents until she found her first desired item...a pair of tweezers. She took the implement and placed the box back down.

Clearing her throat she held out her hand, flat, palm facing up. "Your right hand, please. It looks to be the worse of the two so I'll do that one first."

Doing as asked, Ryan held out his hand and with a caring touch Sara took it upon hers. "Try not to move," she requested, looking closely at the gashes on his skin. "But this might hurt..." She squirmed a little. "Looks like you have a few pieces of glass that have gone quite deep."

"Just do what you need to do," he directed without fear.

"Okay..." Sara breathed nervously and with slightly shaking fingers edged the tweezers towards the self inflicted damage.

Ryan closed his eyes as he felt the tweezers dip inside his flesh. Sara's eyes flickered to his face before she returned her full concentration to her task. The first piece of glass was deep but she managed to get a hold on it and carefully pulled it out. The hostage takers eyes popped open when he felt the implement leave his flesh.

"Well...that's one..." Sara began as she flicked the piece of blood covered glass on to the floor.

"How many more?" he asked, wiping his forehead on his sleeve again.

Looking over his hand, Sara did a quick visual evaluation. "Two...I think..."

Their eyes met and Sara wasn't exactly sure what she was seeing for the first time within his stare. Gratitude maybe...

He nodded to his hand. "Just...get them out..."

Sara nodded and moved to the next embedment. "Do you even know what you're going to do?" she asked, her lips puckering in hesitation as the tweezers once more probed into flesh.

Ryan winced and stared at her but her eyes didn't leave her task. She shrugged ever so slightly. "I mean...do you have a plan...to get out of here...what you're going to do with..." Her eyes now floated to his, "...us?" She felt a grip on the second piece of glass and her eyes returned to her work in order to pull the chard out. It came free and she discarded it just like she had with the first piece. Breathing a sigh, she looked at him again.

She waited hopeful for an answer to her question.

Pulling his hand away Ryan inspected Sara's effort so far. "One more piece I think," he directed, giving her his hand again.

Sara felt her chin quiver ever so slightly as he seemed to ignore her plea for a little ease. She swallowed, her neck kinking a little and she returned her attention to his hand.

"Do you have a suggestion?"

Looking up in surprise, her eyes questioned his. She plucked the final piece of glass out without even looking and that surprised both of them.

"Oh...um..." She flicked the glass away and he recoiled his hand, "...you're asking me what to do?"

He ignored the question, looked at his hand and smiled, the pain he felt before has certainly lessened. "Not bad," he said holding out his left hand now. He nodded downwards.

Nibbling on her bottom lip Sara took his hand and inspected it.

"So, do you have a suggestion?" he asked.

She looked up from her assessment of his second lot of injuries and frowned.

"Give yourself up," she returned, taking the tweezers and working out the one piece of glass he had in his left hand.

He laughed and she stopped.

She shrugged. "You asked for a suggestion."

"I don't think we will be doing that," he replied calmly.

"More blood may very well be shed if you don't."

His eyes narrowed a little. "Who's?"

She fought for an answer on a cramping stomach and moved her attention back to his hand. "I don't know..." she whispered.

"I like you...you're...different to the rest of them..."

Sara's eyes widened and she paused in mid pluck. Her mouth worked in circles but she couldn't seem to manage an answer to his comment. She pulled the glass free and painfully slowly this time, their eyes met once again.

He continued. "But you need to understand something, Sara. I will not go to jail." He pulled his hand away. "I won't..." His hands began to clench together and he winced.

Without thought, Sara reached out, took his hands and stopped him from doing himself more damage. "Stop..." she said softly and he did.

Carefully, she studied him. This conversation had taken a very odd turn. A turn she wasn't expecting. He wasn't threatening her anymore he was actually talking. "Would...you like to tell me...why you are so angry?"

Taking her in for a few moments, he breathed a gentle sigh, then softly pulled his hands from her grasp. "Let's just say...I don't like confinement."

"You've been in jail before?" she asked.

"No," he answered. "Not exactly."

Sara noticed as she asked the question that the wound on his right hand was still bleeding. She reached into the first aid box and took out a bandage. "I'm, going to put on dressing on that..." She pointed to his hand. "...should stop the bleeding."

He didn't argue as she took his hand and began to wrap the fabric around his flesh.

"Then, what exactly?" she answered his previous response.

"What will it matter?"

"Because you asked me to help..." She took tape from the box and began strapping the dressing in place. "...I need to know where you are if you want me to help you."

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand."

"A tiny smile formed on her lips. "Try me," she urged. "I think you would be surprised. I haven't exactly had an easy life either..."

Pondering for a moment, Ryan licked his lips. "Your deepest, darkest secret and if you lie, this conversation is permanently over...I'll know if you're lying to me."

Sara hesitated now, this discussion was getting more serious than she had expected. How could she tell this man anything personal? Would it even help?

He snorted, noting her reluctance. "I thought so..."

She opened her mouth to respond as she secured the final piece of tape on his dressing but Ryan jumped when a megaphone screeched through their conversation.

"This is negotiator, Colin Dexter. I need to communicate with you...all your phones are out."

Ryan leapt from his seat and yanked his gun from his belt, taking Sara by surprise and she only just about managed to keep her balance on the chair. His eyes suddenly changed. "Maybe we can continue our conversation later."

For a brief moment Sara closed her eyes. She thought she was actually achieving something...and was...about to confess something...

When she opened her eyes Ryan was holding up a roll of tape in his free hand. "Your hands..."

She slumped back against the chair. "I thought...we, were trusting each other...I'm not going anywhere," she pleaded. "Is the tape necessary?" The thought of her wrists being bound again made her cringe. Her skin was already red raw and that combined with the rest of the pain in her body was not a pleasant thought.

He just stared at her. It was as if the intrusion of the outside world had turned him into a totally different person.

On a quivering sigh she held out her hands.

Ryan wrapped the tape around them again and then dropped the role to the floor.

She sighed and watched as he walked towards the front door. Jay joined him and the elder brother peered through the blinds.

"Now what?" Jay asked.

"Now..." Ryan began, "...we take control. Demand time...we have a deadline to meet."

Jay looked around. "What...you just gonna shout demands..." He thought for a moment. "What are we going to do anyway?"

"We just need some wheels," Ryan replied, placing a hand onto his brother's shoulder. "You think they will try anything while we have...her?" He nodded towards Sara.

"I don't trust cops, Ryan...so they could."

Ryan unbolted the door. "I guess we'll have to find out."

Opening the door only slightly, Ryan manoeuvred himself so he could shout through the gap. "What do you want?" he yelled.

"What happened to your phone?" Colin asked. "We couldn't get through..."

"Look, asshole. I'm not going to stand here shouting a conversation at you."

Colin looked to the group surrounding him and then continued. "What do you propose?"

"One person...you can send one person in here and I will talk to them. Give them our demands. That's it."

"Okay...I'll come in."

Ryan smiled. "No! I don't like you. Send someone else."

Brass stepped forward and reached out his hand. "May I?" he asked.

Colin was reluctant but he handed over the megaphone. The captain placed it to his lips.

"This is Captain Jim Brass. I will come and hear what you have to say."

"No cops!" Ryan bellowed.

"Just me," Brass countered quickly. "Alone...unarmed..."

"I said no fucking cops, Dickwad! You're a cop! I see one cop move towards this building, you're gonna have another body on your hands!

"I'm going in," Grissom said quickly looking to the captain while removing his jacket.

"No way," Brass said immediately. "You can't go in there."

Grissom threw his jacket to Greg. "Do you have another option?"

"Yeah, plenty," Brass countered. "You are not going in there, Gil."

McKeen grabbed Brass's arm and pulled him aside. "You need to get a grip on this Jim. These punks are taking control. Now either someone starts taking command here or I will."

Grissom looked around and quickly made his decision. He wasn't waiting any longer. He ducked under the tape while McKeen and Brass were arguing and slowly approached the store.

The captain's heart dropped when his head turned and he saw Grissom going against his instructions. "Gil...get the hell back here!"

"Too late, Jim," he called back. And he was right. As Ryan had instructed no cops could move towards the store so all the captain could do was watch...

A/N: Oh my...is it getting exciting yet? And phew, Grissom is going to try and get in? Then what? This is so much fun, hehehehe. Review please...but sign in if you want a reply! I can't reply otherwise... Have a great day!