Chapter One

"…And she came at me, like a light in the dark…"

The twang of country was grating on Nick's nerves. Normally he enjoyed a little country while he drove, but not tonight. Tonight, he was exhausted - shattered would have been a better word - and his head throbbed so much, it felt like it was ready to explode.

It was supposed to have been his night off, but then Grissom had called. Warrick was stuck in Dallas, his flight grounded because of heavy fog, and Catherine had called in sick. Both he and Sara were covering a major shootout in Henderson…there was no one else. Grissom had apologised in that measured, unruffled way of his, but that didn't change the fact that Nick was on his way into work only hours after finishing a double shift.

Which brought him back to the country music.

Grissom had paired him with Greg, someone with zero experience and all the enthusiasm of an over-eager puppy; someone who Nick was ill-equipped to deal with tonight.

The excited chatter had started as soon as they had sat into Nick's Tahoe. "Can you believe Grissom sent me out?" Greg had asked, nearly bouncing in his seat.

Not really, thought Nick silently, mentally cursing his supervisor.

"Couldn't believe it when Grissom said he needed me at a scene," Greg continued, his eyes shining. "Especially not one like this…I mean, this isn't just watching someone else collect evidence, I actually get to collect evidence too!"

The excited chatter had continued in the same vein for several blocks until Nick had finally switched on the radio when his monosyllabic answers had little effect on Greg.

It had seemed to work. Greg despised country music and had lapsed into silence shortly after Nick turned it on. But now the music was irritating Nick too. He was exhausted and cranky, and really would have preferred to just drive in silence. But since that wasn't an option, Nick decided to stick with the music; he wasn't expected to answer the music.

Grissom, you owe me big time! thought Nick, as a vision of his bed swam before his tired eyes.

Nick usually got on very well with Greg. The young lab tech was one of the most energetic and fun people he had ever met in his life, but a crime scene was no place for humour. Nick didn't want Greg in the field, he wanted him to stay in the lab. He was out of the way in the lab and, more importantly, he was safe in the lab.

His bad mood permeated the vehicle and when they finally arrived at the crime scene, it was a very subdued Greg who climbed out of the SUV. But Nick was oblivious to this as he studied the surrounding area.

They were in a large, industrial district which consisted mainly of warehouses. The lighting was poor and, except for the police officers and paramedics mulling around the first building, the whole place was devoid of people.

Good place to commit murder, Nick noted.

"Hey, Nick!" he heard a voice call and turned. Detective Vartann stood waving at him from behind the crime scene tape. Stifling a yawn, Nick returned the salute and made his way over to the Detective, completely forgetting about Greg.

"Hey, Vartann," Nick greeted him as he joined the detective. "What have we got?"

"Two victims, both male. First guy was beaten to death…the body is in the warehouse."

"What about the second guy?" asked Nick.

"Single gunshot to the stomach," responded Vartann. "Body is out back, it looks like he tried to crawl away. Security guards found him and called the paramedics, but he died before they could get here."

"Coroner pronounce?"

"Not yet, they arrived just before you did," Vartann replied. "I'm going to talk with the security guards if you want to head in?"

Nick nodded and started for the building, throwing a "lets go, Greg" over his shoulder. The young lab tech followed eagerly, increasing his speed to keep up with Nick.

They entered the building and the officer on the door pointed them in the direction of several massive storage shelves. Thanking him, Nick moved past several shelves before coming to the aisle to where Doc Robbins was crouched on the floor. He felt his heart drop at the mess that greeted him.

Shit! This will take hours to process…

Dark blood had pooled out beneath the body on the floor, and there were several bloody footprints in the surrounding area. A large strip of blood led all the way to the back of the warehouse, as though something had been dragged down there. There was blood spatter all over the boxes on the surrounding shelves, as well as what looked like bits of human tissue. The man's skull had been completely crushed, its contents spilling out onto the floor.

"Hey, Doc," Nick greeted the older man.

"Hi, Nick," he responded. "Just so you know, the footprints aren't mine or the paramedics. I've been careful not to step in them."

"Thanks, Doc. What can you tell me about the bodies?"

"This guy was battered to death, probably with a heavy object, but I'll know more after post."

"What about TOD?" asked Nick.

"Just over an hour ago judging by liver temp."

One hour! The killer can't have gotten far covered in blood! I'll have Vartann send a few officers out to scour the area, thought Nick.

"What about the second body?" he asked.

"Cause of death was exsanguination from a gunshot wound to the stomach…" the doctor frowned and broke off suddenly, his gaze directed behind Nick. "Greg, are you okay?"

Nick spun around. Greg was pale and his eyes were fixed on the body in front.

"Greg?" Nick prodded and he looked up. Nick saw his lips twitch and yelled at once, "Greg, go! Just go! Before you contaminate the scene!"

The young technician turned and rushed out. Nick followed quickly after, scowling in irritation. He pushed open the door just in time to see Greg wiping his mouth with a shaking hand.

"You okay?" he asked, a little brusquely.

Greg nodded. "Sorry, Nick…I just didn't expect…it looked so…"

"Look, don't worry about it," Nick interrupted him with a dismissive wave. "It's your first real crime scene."

Which you aren't qualified to be at, he added to himself.

Gregg nodded, downcast. "What do you want me to do?"

"You can photograph the perimeter," Nick replied.

"Wait! What about inside? That's a big scene, it could take you ages…"

Nick interrupted him again. "No offence, Greg, but I can't risk you contaminating the scene. I think it's best if you stay out here."

Greg looked as though he had been slapped. "Nick, I wasn't expecting the scene to look like that. Don't worry, I'm not going to puke again!"

Nick sighed. "Look, Greg, I'm very tired and I really want to get out of here quickly. It'll be faster if I process on my own."

"But…"

"No buts, Greg, just do it."

Turning to head back inside, Nick felt a pang of guilt at Greg's crestfallen expression. "Tell you what," he patted the younger man on the shoulder. "If you feel up to it, why don't you start processing the body out back?"

Then he went back inside, swallowing another yawn.

xxx

Greg was hurt and angry. He knew Nick was exhausted, but that still didn't explain why Nick was being such a jerk. He'd been silent and moody ever since they had got in the car, and now he was dismissing Greg as though he were five years old. Sure, he'd thrown up, but that was only the shock of seeing a bloody crime scene for the first time.

It's not like I'm going to do it again! Greg thought, annoyed.

Scowling, he snapped pictures while moving around the warehouse. Ever since Grissom had agreed to let Greg out in the field, Nick had been weird about it. It upset him because Nick was the one person Greg had thought would support him. He wondered if it was because Nick didn't think him capable; he certainly acted as though he didn't.

He rounded the corner and arrived at the back of the building. Lying just outside the back door was the second body. Apprehensively, Greg moved towards it and braced himself for a shock.

It wasn't as bad as he expected. There was a lot of blood, but after the initial shock of the first scene, he was prepared and didn't feel the same surge of nausea. Feeling slightly better about himself, Greg started to photograph the body.

See? I can do this! Screw you, Nick!

The man's hand was closed around something and as Greg bent down to take a picture, he noticed several small blood drops leading away.

Where does that go? Greg wondered as he snapped a picture and took out his flashlight to follow the trail. The drops were small and random, but Greg eventually traced them through a hole in the fence to a dumpster against wall of the warehouse next door. A bloody handprint was evident on the lid of the container. Greg put down his camera and pulled on some gloves before standing on tiptoe, lifting the lid and peering in. At first, nothing stood out, but then he noticed a bloody wrench on top of some used banana skins.

I bet that's what he hit the first guy with! thought Greg triumphantly. Wait till Nick sees this!

He was just bending down for his camera when someone hit him from behind. With a cry of surprise, Greg fell forward onto the concrete. Instantly his assailant was on him, pinning him to the ground and a bear-like hand was clamped over his mouth. Greg struggled, trying to buck him off, but the man was bigger and stronger than he was. His head squashed into the ground, Greg could only vaguely see the first warehouse in the dark. There was no sign of any of the officers.

Where are they? he thought desperately, reaching back with his hands and scratching his attacker. He was rewarded by a hiss of pain and struggled harder. Then he felt what was unmistakeably the cold metal of a gun touch his temple and froze.

"Listen, kid," a harsh voice whispered. "I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth. You even so much as whimper and I'll put a bullet in your skull! Got that?"

Shaking, Greg nodded. The man removed his hand from Greg's mouth and quickly patted him down. Then he placed his hand over Greg's eyes, pulling his head back against him. Greg felt the gun scraping his skin as it moved from his temple to his jaw.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you a few questions," the man whispered in his ear. "You want to stay alive then you answer them! Got it?"

Again, Greg nodded. His heart was hammering madly in his chest and his breathing was coming in short, panicked gasps.

"Good boy. Are you a cop?"

Greg shook his head.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm…I'm a CSI," Greg whispered.

"You look for evidence and shit?"

Greg nodded again, it was easier than speech.

"How many cops are here?"

Greg swallowed. His mouth felt so dry. "I don't…I don't know," he managed.

"Think harder about that one, kid, if you don't want a hole right here!" The gun was jabbed into his check.

Shaking, Greg tried to remember by picturing the scene. Vartann was behind the tape, there was one officer outside the tape and one inside the door…shit I don't remember! No, think! Another inside the warehouse, and…and…one outside the building! That's it!

"Well, kid?" the man pressed, pushing his gun painfully into Greg's jaw.

"Five! There are five!" Greg cried out.

"Shhhhh!" the man hissed at him, taking his hand from Greg's eyes and clamping it over his mouth once more. He squashed the young lab tech's face against the ground and Greg winced in pain.

"And that's everyone with guns?" the man asked.

Greg started to nod but then paused. He had forgotten about Nick! He tried to shake his head but the man had him pressed so far into the ground that it hurt.

"Yes or no?" the man barked in a low voice. "Don't make me ask again!"

Greg forced his head into a shake, scraping his cheek on the concrete.

"No? What do you mean no?" the man demanded in a whisper removing his hand from Greg's mouth.

"There's…the other CSI has a gun," Greg said in a low voice, closing his eyes tightly as the gun was pressed even harder into his cheek.

"Are you telling me there's six cops with guns?"

Greg nodded.

"Fuck! Shit!" the man hissed. "How the fuck am I supposed to get out of here?"

I don't care, just go! thought Greg.

The man was silent for several minutes, keeping Greg pinned against the concrete and the gun pressed tightly to his face.

Then he addressed Greg again. "Did you say you're a CSI?"

"Yes…sort of," Greg choked out. The man's weight and his panicked breathing were making it difficult for him to get any air into his lungs.

The man pulled his hair and snarled, "what do you mean sort of?"

"I'm a trainee," Greg answered, wishing he had never left the lab.

"Even better!" The man released Greg's hair and slammed his head into the concrete.

Instantly Greg saw stars. He was only vaguely aware of the man getting off him and pulling him to his feet. He swayed as the man pushed him against the dumpster, still pointing the gun to his head.

"You're going to help me get out of here," he said.

xxx

Nick finished photographing and processing the body.

"You can take that one," he told the waiting paramedics. "Greg should have started the other body, but I'll just get it finished so you can take that one too."

"Thanks," said the blonde paramedic as they started to load the body onto the gurney.

Nick moved towards the back of the warehouse, studying the strip of blood as he did so.

This is where the other guy must have dragged himself out! he realised, as he neared the end of the aisle. I'll get Greg to swab the blood and take it back to DNA.

Rounding the corner of the massive warehouse shelving, Nick got the shock of his life. Standing just inside the back door of the warehouse, and right in the middle of the blood trail, was Greg. A tall, muscular man stood just behind him, one arm wrapped around his throat, the other pointing a gun at his head.

It was Nick's worst nightmare come to life.

"Move and I'll kill him!" the man snarled at once.

"What do you want?" demanded Nick in a low voice, noticing the blood on the man's shoes and clothes.

"I want to get out of here!" the man told him.

"Okay, we can do that," said Nick, trying to stay calm. "Just let him go and we'll talk about this…"

"Talk my ass!" the gunman snapped. "I know what'll happen the second I let him go! He stays with me until I get out of here! Either that or I blow his brains out!"

The man cocked the trigger to emphasise his point, and Nick saw Greg close his eyes.

"Whoa! Take it easy," said Nick hurriedly. "We'll get you out, just don't hurt him."

"How?" the gunman demanded.

Nick didn't know. He studied Greg intently. The young lab tech was pale and dazed looking, and there was a bloody welt above his left temple. Nick felt his anger and fear rise. What if they got outside and the man panicked and started to shoot at the officers? They would have no choice but to fire back, and Greg could get hurt…or worse. Nick couldn't risk that.

"Tell you what," Nick shifted his gaze to the gunman. "Why don't you take me with you? Let Greg go, I'll go with you as a hostage until you get out of here."

"Not a chance! He's coming with me!" The gunman tightened his hold on Greg's neck and Nick saw him wince.

"Please," said Nick, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "He's not trained to deal with this and…"

"Which is exactly why he makes the better hostage!" the man interrupted him. "Now, either you get me out of here or he dies!" He squeezed Greg's neck so hard he gasped in pain and pushed the gun hard into his temple. "It's your choice, what will it be?"

xxx

The gunman had kept his arm locked firmly around Greg's neck and the gun to his temple as he pushed him through the back door of the warehouse.

"Where's the other CSI?" he whispered in Greg's ear.

But Greg stayed silent, afraid this man would hurt Nick. Angrily, the man whacked his head with the gun. The world tipped sideways as Greg felt his knees buckle beneath him, and only his attacker's grip kept him standing.

"You'd better fucking answer me!" the man hissed in his hear, pressing the gun hard against Greg's throbbing temple.

The young lab tech kept his mouth resolutely closed. This man was dangerous, what if he hurt Nick? No way was Greg letting that happen.

But his heart sank seconds later when Nick appeared from behind one of the massive storage shelves. He stopped dead when he saw Greg and the gunman, and Greg thought he saw a flash of fear in Nick's eyes.

"Move and I'll kill him!" the gunman snarled at Nick.

"What do you want?" Nick asked, and Greg could see his jaw muscles clenching tightly as they always did when he was stressed or angry.

"I want to get out of here!" the man answered.

"Okay, we can do that," said Nick. "Just let him go and we'll talk about this…"

"Talk my ass!" the gunman snapped. "I know what'll happen the second I let him go! He stays with me until I get out of here! Either that or I blow his brains out!"

Greg could feel the gun pushing harder against his skull and heard the unmistakable click of the gun barrel. Feeling light-headed, he closed his eyes.

As the man's grip on his throat tightened, the throbbing in his head intensified and blackness started to wash over him. He was vaguely aware of Nick and the gunman talking, but wasn't entirely sure what they were saying. Everything was drifting away.

Suddenly, the gunman squeezed his neck so tightly it hurt and Greg gasped, the pain bringing him back to reality.

"It's your choice, what will it be?" he heard the gunman ask.

Greg opened his eyes. Nick was pale now, and there was obvious fear in his eyes as well as desperation.

Nick, help, Greg tried to plead silently with him. I don't know what to do.

Neither do I, Nick's face seemed to say

After several minutes, Nick spoke up. "If I can get you in a car and out of here, will you let him go?"

"If you can get me out of here, then yeah, I will," the man answered.

Nick nodded. "Okay, I'm going to radio the officers and tell them not to shoot when we come out, okay? Then I'll give you the keys to my car - it's parked just outside the tape - so you can get away."

"Do it!" the man hissed. "And I know there are five cops outside, so make sure they're all standing well away from me!"

While Nick radioed the officers and explained the situation, the gun man leaned close to Greg's ear and whispered, "You stay nice and calm, kid, and no one needs to get hurt…least of all you. You got that?"

Greg nodded, then stopped. The movement made his head hurt.

"Detective Vartann has pulled everyone back," Nick told him. "Are you ready?"

"Ready," the man answered. "But one false move and I swear I'll kill him!"

"I get it," Nick replied through gritted teeth.

Slowly, Nick walked out. The gunman followed, keeping a tight grip on his hostage. Outside, the profusion of lights hit Greg, dazzling him and causing him to stumble, but the gunman held him tightly and forced him forward.

"Start the car and turn it!" he heard the gunman order as his vision cleared slightly and he could see Nick climbing into his Tahoe. Vartann and the other officers were watching the scene unfold with apprehension. Greg could also see the paramedics standing further back, their eyes glued to him. He swallowed.

Everyone's gonna to think I'm so stupid for getting into this! he thought miserably. He wondered if he would ever get a chance in the field again.

Nick climbed out of the Tahoe, leaving it running and made his way back to them. "Okay, get in the car and let Greg go," he said.

"Not yet," the gunman told him. "I want everyone to put their guns on the ground and kick them towards me, then move back against the wall."

Nick relayed the command and the officers quickly complied.

"Now let the air out of everyone's tires!" the gunman ordered.

"Why?" Nick demanded.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" the gunman jeered. "I don't want anyone following me! Now, do it!" He wrenched Greg's neck to emphasise his point and Greg cried out in pain.

"Okay! Okay!" said Nick. "I'll do it."

Greg watched as Nick bent down and almost laughed at the ludicrousness of the situation; straight-laced Nick Stokes letting the air out of someone's tires like some childish prank.

"Drop your gun and back against the wall with everyone else!" the gunman commanded.

With a helpless look at Greg, Nick once more did as he was told. Slowly the gunman began to back toward the open door of the Tahoe, dragging Greg with him. He eased into the SUV and Greg could feel the man getting ready to shove him away when suddenly a shot rang out.

"What the fuck?!" the man yelled, as an officer came charging around the side of the warehouse.

Oh shit! thought Greg. He had forgotten about the officer patrolling the perimeter. He could hear Nick screaming at the officer to stop shooting as he was yanked into the Tahoe. All hell was breaking loose.

The gunman pulled him in and twisted his t-shirt until it choked him, all the while screaming at him. "DRIVE, YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT! DRIVE!"

It was then Greg realised that he was in the driver's seat and the man still had the gun pointing at his head.

"DRIVE!" he screamed and Greg hit the gas. The Tahoe lurched forward and smashed into one of the patrol cars.

"Get us out of here now, or you'll be dead before they can even open the door!" the gunman snarled at Greg.

Greg could see Nick and the other officers running for the Tahoe, but upon hearing the click of the gun hammer at his ear, swallowed hard. No man could outrun a bullet.

With a sudden jerk and screech of tires, Greg put the truck in gear and shot out.

xxx

"No! No! No!" Nick yelled after the rapidly disappearing truck. He came to a halt in the middle of the road, panic and fear threatening to consume him.

Greg was gone. He was gone and Nick had watched him being taken from right under his nose and done nothing.

Dammit! he screamed at himself in frustration. He turned around and caught sight of Vartann radioing in the kidnapping and the details of Nick's truck. Then he saw the officer who had started shooting.

"YOU!" he roared, stalking over to the man. "This is all your fault! Why the hell did you start shooting?"

"Hey!" the officer raised his hands, looking offended. "The guy had a gun!"

"Yeah, which he had pointed at Greg's head! You could have shot him! And now that nut has him because you couldn't follow protocol!" Nick was yelling now.

"Nick, calm down," said Detective Vartann, appearing at his side. "I've called it in. Every officer in Vegas will be on the lookout for that Tahoe in a matter of minutes."

"And what good is it if he shoots Greg?" Nick demanded angrily. "Everything would have been fine if this MORAN hadn't come in firing like a lunatic! I swear, if anything happens to Greg, I'm holding you responsible!" Nick jabbed a finger in the officer's chest.

"Watch it!" said the officer threateningly, slapping Nick's hand away. "It's not my fault the kid was stupid enough to get himself kidnapped!"

Nick pushed him hard. "Not your fault? NOT YOUR FAULT? You were supposed to be watching the perimeter! Where the hell were you when he was taken hostage?"

The officer pushed back angrily. "I'm not the one who was supposed to be watching him, you were!"

"Okay, that's it!" snapped Vartann, dragging Nick away from the officer before things could escalate further. "What is the matter with you?" he hissed furiously at Nick once they were out of hearing distance.

Nick just glowered back. He knew he was being unreasonable but he couldn't help it. Fear and panic were taking over and sending all rational thought spiralling out of control. This was the one thing he had feared ever since Greg had said he wanted to work in the field. Nick could deal with what work threw at him, but he couldn't handle the thought of anything happening to Greg.

Why? a little voice awoke in the back of his mind. Why does he matter so much to you?

Because he just does! Nick told himself firmly, not wanting to dig any deeper.

"Nick?" Vartann was speaking to him and Nick shook his head.

"What?"

The detective looked worried now. "Nick, are you okay? You seem kind of out of it."

"My best friend's just been kidnapped at gunpoint!" Nick growled. "Of course I'm not okay!" He shot another dirty, furious look at the officer who had shot at the gunman. "If anything happens to Greg, I swear he'll be sorry!"

"Nick, stop it! It's not his fault!" the detective answered angrily. "Yes, he should have been watching the perimeter and there'll be consequences for that…but he's also right. Greg's a trainee, he's your responsibility. Why the hell was he on his own in the first place?"

Nick didn't answer. Guilt was jostling for attention alongside the fear and panic. His eagerness to finish with the crime scene had made him disregard not only Greg's feelings, but his safety.

Nick sat down heavily on the sidewalk, his head in his hands. Why had he been so careless? He had been so terrified of anything happening to Greg in the field, yet tonight he had overlooked the potential dangers and failed to protect Greg.

He would never forgive himself for it.

The detective watched as the CSI seemed to fall to pieces. He had no idea what was going on for the man, but whatever it was, it had something to do with the young lab technician who had just been kidnapped.

Vartann glanced at his watch uncomfortably. The CSI team had been notified of Greg's abduction and were on their way here now. Vartann just hoped they got here soon because he was lousy at stuff like this.

xxx

"You little fucking prick! You told me there were five!" the gunman shouted at Greg prodding the gun hard against his ribs.

Greg's hands were shaking as they gripped the steering wheel. "I'm sorry," he whispered, as reality kicked in and he felt himself being doused in cold terror. He was being held at gunpoint by a man with a hair-trigger temper…a gun was actually being pointed at him. Greg wanted to close his eyes and not think about it.

"Yeah, well that little mistake could cost you," the man told him. "Now drive!"

The gunman lapsed into thoughtful silence while Greg kept his eyes on the road. He was finding it difficult to drive. Aside from his shaking hands, Greg's head was throbbing fiercely and his vision was still frighteningly blurry. It was all he could do to keep the car straight without the added distraction of this man threatening him. Suddenly, Greg was blinded by the beam of an oncoming car and the SUV swerved a little.

"What the fuck was that?" the man screamed at him. "Are you trying to draw attention to us?"

Terrified, Greg shook his head. "No! I just…I can't see very well."

"What do you mean…never mind! Just pull into this alley up here."

Greg did as he was told and parked the car, hoping the man was going to let him go as he had originally intended. His hopes were dashed however, when the man seized him by the throat and pushed his head against the car window.

"You stupid little shit!" the man hissed at him, pressing in close to Greg and pointing the gun at his head again. "Why couldn't you just have counted properly? You've put me in a very dangerous position and I don't like that. Maybe I should just kill you right now!"

Greg closed his eyes, feeling the cold metal of the gun against his hot skin. "Please…please don't kill me."

There was silence for several minutes. The gunman kept his gun against Greg's head and didn't move. The young lab tech was just beginning to think he would shoot him when suddenly he was being dragged across the seats and out of the car.

He opened his eyes as the gunman grabbed his t-shirt by the neck and pushed him to the back of the car, his gun now pointing at the back of his head.

"Open the trunk," the gunman commanded. Greg quickly did as he was told, his shaking fingers fumbling with the latch. As the trunk swung open, the gunman shoved Greg against the wall and pinned him against it. He said nothing for several minutes and then Greg heard a muttered "perfect" before something slammed into the back of his head.

Pain exploded in his skull as bright lights danced behind his eyes and bounced off the inside of his head. He felt his knees buckle and slumped down onto the ground.

Seconds later, the gunman was rolling him onto his stomach and yanking his arms behind his back. Greg felt something being wound tightly around his wrists and tried to struggle, but his body seemed to have lost the ability to move.

Greg wondered if he was unconscious. He couldn't move and he couldn't see, but for some odd reason he could hear, despite the haze of pain. He felt something sticky being placed over his mouth and eyes. Then the gunman lifted him up and tossed him down hard. Judging by the objects digging into his back, he guessed he was in the trunk. Somewhere a door slammed and Greg heard the engine starting up again. He was thrown against the door as the truck took off, smacking his head hard against the door. Lights flashed before his eyes and the unconsciousness that had been pulling at him since the gunman had first slammed his head into the concrete finally overtook him; Greg slipped into blackness.

xxx

Jesus Christ! I'm in so much fucking trouble! the gunman growled to himself tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Christof is going to be so pissed!

He was only supposed to have picked up the package, but the dealers had changed their mind at the last minute and refused to sell. It had put him in a predicament because this sale had been his last chance with Christof; he screwed this one up and he was dead. Literally.

He swallowed. He might have got the package, but there hadn't been time to clean up the mess at the warehouse. Hell, there hadn't even been time to get out of there! The security guards had shown up while he was searching the bodies and the cops a few minutes later. He couldn't even stay hidden because some nosey kid had come wandering over to his hiding place.

The gunman aimed an uneasy glance at the trunk. He hadn't intended to take the kid with him. All he had wanted was to get out of there, but then that cop had come in with guns blazing and he'd had no choice but to take the kid.

It wasn't like he could fire back with an empty gun.

The gunman glanced at the firearm tucked in his belt. He had been so sure he had loaded the damn thing…it was only when he had shot the first dealer and aimed for the second one that he'd realised his mistake. When the second man came at him, he had grabbed the wrench off the shelf and hit him with it, before dumping it in the trash out back.

My prints are all over the fucking thing! he realised with a horrible twinge. If he led them back to Christof he was finished! He would have to dump this car and the kid before attempting some serious damage control.

Just then, his phone rang and the gunman felt his stomach twist as he glanced at the caller ID."Hello," he answered fearfully.

"Where are you?" came the rumblings of a deep and heavily-accented voice. "You should have been here nearly an hour ago."

"There was a problem…" he began, but the voice cut him off.

"With you, there are always problems. Did you get it?"

"Yes."

"Good. Bring it to me at once."

The gunman swallowed. Hard. "I have to take care of a little complication first. I…"

"You will bring it to me now! Your fuck-up can be taken care of later!"

"But…"

"NOW!" came the growled reply and the phone went dead.

Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

His hands shook as he pulled in and put his head on the steering wheel. Christof would kill him. No! Not just kill him, he would make sure he suffered first. The gunman swallowed as he restarted Nick's truck with shaking fingers; usually he was prone to anger, but not fear.

Christof, however, terrified him. He had seen what the man could do. Running was useless, his arm was too long.

He was driving beneath the bright lights of Vegas, but he felt like he was driving further and further into a darkening pit.