New story's here! I hope you enjoy it, maybe let me know what you think! Have fun!
"No, I know. I'll be there as soon as I can, but the crime scene was also quite huge and I... Okay, sure. Yeah, bye." Greg hung up the phone annoyed, throwing it on the passenger seat of his denali as he made a right turn. Russell had called him to tell him not to waste any time on his crime scene because he needed him to help him with his. Greg was fed up with being expected to be at two places at the same time but knew there wasn't much to do about it, anyway, so he complied – but he wasn't happy with it. His phone rang again. "What now?" he asked as he answered it.
"...Something wrong?" Nick asked on the other end of the line.
"Oh Nick, sorry, I thought you were Russell. He's bugging me today. What's up?"
"That's actually what I'm calling about. I overheard him asking you to help him at his scene."
"Asking isn't the right word, but... go on."
"I told him I'll come with him, so there's no hurry."
"Thank you, but I'm already on my way there. And I know you have an appointment with the D.A. in two hours."
"You can take over then. But you just come from your scene, I'm sure you can use a coffee break. Plus, you wouldn't even get the opportunity to get your evidence to the lab."
Greg thought about it for a moment. He knew Nick was right. "Okay... Thank you. But I owe you. I'll be there in about an hour, alright?"
"Sure, no hurry."
Greg hung up the phone with a relieved smile on his face that quickly faded as the denali started making weird noises. "...What the...? No!" The car died down quickly, Greg could barely steer it to the right to park it on the side of that dark, shady street he was just driving on. "God damn it, not now! Come on!" He attempted to get the engine to start again a few times before realizing there was no point in trying anymore, so he got out to take a look under the hood. While he was kicking the car in anger, a patrol car drove up to him.
"Need any help, Si... Oh hey Greg! Didn't recognize you at first." Officer Spencer smiled at him. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, it's just the stupid car won't work anymore."
"The battery, maybe? Should we..."
Greg interrupted him. "No, it's the engine. I told Russell weeks ago that something was wrong, but he wouldn't let me get the damned car to a shop over a 'hunch', budget cuts or whatever. I knew this would happen."
Spencer got out of the patrol car while his partner stayed inside. "Here, let me show you something." He got his phone out and started dialing.
Greg watched him rather unimpressed. He was too angry with Russell right now to even try to pretend he cared.
Spencer hung the phone up with a big smile on his face. "Tow truck's gonna be here in half an hour!"
"...Thanks." He put his hand on the door handle of the denali, meaning to open up to wait inside, but Spencer put his hand on the door to keep him from doing that. "...Hey."
"What are you doing, Greg? You can ride with us!" He laughed as he patted him on the back.
The pat was quite dynamic, causing Greg to stumble. "Thanks but... I should wait here. I have the trunk full with evidence, and all the equipment..."
Spencer nodded. "Sure. Well in that case..." He opened the back door of the patrol car. "Come on, get in." When Greg frowned rather confused, he went on, "We can wait for the tow truck together. We're on our lunch break. Want a burger?"
"...No, I'm good, thanks." Greg sighed deeply. Waiting with the annoying officer Spencer for the tow truck was the last thing he wanted to do right now.
"Take good care of it," Spencer said to the tow truck driver with a smile on his face as the denali got towed away. "Okay Greg, to the lab, I guess?"
The evidence was now stored in the trunk of the patrol car. "Yes, please." Greg nodded. "...Finally," he said under his breath. Spencer could be quite annoying with his over-loving way.
Spencer's partner Turner started the car and they drove off.
"Oh damn! I forgot to call Nick!" Greg quickly got his cell phone out.
"Wow, are you two married or something?" Spencer laughed to conceal his jealousy. "Does he have to know everything you do?"
"...No, but he's waiting for me at a crime scene." The CSI quickly called his friend to explain to him what happened. "You know what," he said after he hung up the phone, "Is it okay if we drive straight to the crime scene? The evidence can wait, Nick can't."
"Turner, you heard the man." Spencer had an annoyed look on his face. Looking out the window, he spotted someone. "Hey wait a minute, isn't this the guy from last week?"
"Who?" Turner looked to where Spencer was pointing at. "...Oh yeah right, the drug addict who robbed a liquor store."
"...What are you doing?" Greg asked confused as they hit the sirens and drove up to the man.
"Arresting him, what do you think?"
"...Now?"
The man was too drugged up to realize the police was stopping to arrest him. They were able to detain him quite easily, putting him in the back of the car next to Greg.
"Great. That's great. I knew I should've taken a cab."
"Oh come on, he doesn't smell that bad. Besides, he's asleep, he's not bothering you." Spencer chuckled.
"Isn't he?" Greg was repeatedly pushing the man away from him, as he kept leaning against him in his sleep. "I'm not that into snuggling up with criminals, you know."
Turner shook his head annoyed. "He won't ruin your fancy clothes, now, will he?" After a few minutes into their drive, the officer noticed the car behind them was driving up quite close. "What the hell is this guy doing?"
Spencer turned around. "How much in a hurry can you be to tailgate a police car? Hit the lights, he basically asked for it."
"...Is that really necessary?" Greg asked nervously. "We're kind of in a hurry."
"It's not always about you, Greg." The officer rolled his eyes. "The lights, Turner."
Turner did as he slowed down the car in a means to stop alltogether. The car behind them stopped a few feet away from them. "Alright, what do you say, Spencer? Drunk or sober?"
"I'd say sober."
Greg watched the two bet whether the driver of the other car was drunk or not, only getting more impatient. He felt like they were wasting his time. "Guys..."
"Yeah I know, you're in a hurry. Just sit tight."
"No, I... there's something wrong."
"Typical with you nerds. Pissing your pants over a regular traffic stop. We have to do this every single day, you don't see us complaining about it," Turner said as he gave him a look.
"Wait, don't open the door, I think..."
"Oh now you're gonna tell me how to do my job?" Turner laughed humorlessly while putting his hand on the door handle.
"Don't!" Greg yelled before the patrol car got rear-ended. It was quite a violent impact the men inside all affected one way or another. They didn't get time to react in any way, though. The car hit them a second time.
"Is everyone okay?" Spencer asked as he put his hand on the right side of his head.
Greg coughed a little. He was the only one still wearing his seatbelt and being pressed against it hurt. "I-I think so."
The drug addict woke up confused, trying to flail around in a panic, but being unable to do so by the cuffs around his wrists. This only caused him to panic more.
"Easy!" Greg yelled as he tried to calm him down.
"...What's going on? Get me out of here!" the man yelled as he stopped moving around as much.
Spencer looked through the rear window. "What's he doing now? Is he still sitting inside?"
"Yeah, I think so. What now?" Greg stared at the man.
"You sit tight, Greg. Turner and I will... Turner? Hey, are you okay?" Turner's nose was bleeding heavily, his head hanging down. He was unconscious. "...Damn, no! Turner?!" Spencer checked his vitals when the car got hit a third time. "...Damn it, I've had it with this guy!" He drew his gun while calling for backup.
"W-What are you doing?" Greg asked quite scared.
"You got your gun with you?"
The CSI shook his head.
"...Typical, indeed..." Spencer said under his breath as he grabbed Turner's gun and handed it to him. "Here."
Greg grabbed it but moaned in pain. "I-I think I hurt my wrist."
"Then use the other hand. You need to give me backup."
Greg sighed frightened as he finally unbuckled and got out of the car. He pointed the gun in the other car's direction, trying to take cover behind the banged-up patrol car.
"Hey, where are you going? Don't leave me here!" the drug addict yelled desperately.
"LVPD! Show me your hands!" Spencer yelled, pointing his gun at the car as well.
The driver just kept seated without moving. But they could see him smile.
"...What's he up to now?"
"When's backup gonna be here?" Greg asked in desperation. He felt highly uncomfortable in these standoffs, but holding the gun in his left hand surely didn't help the situation at all.
"...I hope soon. I'm not feeling well."
Greg raised an eyebrow. "You'll be fine. Take deep breaths."
"No, I... I'm nauseaus and dizzy and..." Spencer fainted, falling down to the ground.
"Spencer! No! You need to..." When Greg turned around in an attempt to aid his colleague, three bullets came flying in his direction, missing him by a few inches. Greg took cover as he watched the driver get out of his car with his gun still pointing at them.
"Come on man, help me out! Quick!" the drug addict was getting desperate, trying to kick in the car window, but Greg didn't concentrate on him. He kept his eyes fixated on the gunman walking up to him. He tried shooting at him, but the gun was jammed.
When the gunman realised this, a big, wide grin formed on his face. "Throw me the gun. Now."
Greg knew he had no choice but to do what this guy wanted from him and lift his arms.
The gunman caught the gun, his grin only getting wider. "Good boy." He stood there, his eyes fixating on Greg. Staring at him for quite some time, he walked over to officer Spencer, bending down. Greg was already closing his eyes, preparing for the worst, but he never heard the gunshot he expected. Instead, he felt the man grab his hurting wrist, causing him to cry out in pain.
It took a while for officer Spencer to regain consciousness. He looked around confused, his headache almost as intense as his nausea and dizziness. He slowly got up, looking around. "...Greg?"
"Spencer, are you okay?" Greg asked with a pain-ridden face. He was sitting on the ground, his arms up to the car door, cuffed around the car door window frame. The swelling on his right wrist was getting worse and the handcuffs around it hurt, as well as the position he had to keep his hands in.
"I'm not sure, I feel like hell... Is everybody okay? ...Turner, he was unconscious. How is he? Turner? Buddy?"
When Greg noticed Spencer moving, trying to take a look at Turner, he stopped him. "Wait. Spencer, don't."
The officer frowned. "What is it?"
Greg shook his head with tears in his eyes. "I think he shot him."
"...No. No, he didn't. No!" Spencer hopped up, ignoring his body's urge to lie down again and hurrying over to his partner. "Turner, no!"
Listening to Spencer's desperate cries and sobs was almost unbearable for Greg. A scary assumption became heartbreaking, terrifying reality.