I'm back! Hope you like this.

Enjoy!

"LVPD!"

The doors slammed open and cops, CSIs, and Feds flooded in. Henry and Tony looked up at them, Tony still clutching his arm, Henry still clutching his gun.

Gibbs immediately went to his agent after assessing the damage in the room, holstering his gun and holding Tony up. "DiNozzo," he sighed.

"Sorry boss," he said, gasping a bit. "I let them take Shawn and Adam. They're gone, Gibbs. I'm sorry."

Gibbs cuffed him on the head lightly. "You did good, DiNozzo. I'm just glad you're okay."

"You are?" Tony echoed, his eyes wide. Gibbs shot him an annoyed look. "Oh, right. Thanks, boss."

"Let's get you to a hospital," he said.

"You are in so much trouble, Spencer," Lassiter hissed in Henry's face. The older man didn't answer, looking longingly towards the door where his son had disappeared.

"Get me an ambulance," Nick shouted from Greg's room. The younger man was unconscious, lying in a pool of his own blood as it poured over the sides of the table. The smell, metallic, disgusting, and sickening, overwhelmed the senses of everyone who entered. The young CSI was pale, his wrists were bloody, and he wasn't moving.

But he was alive, and that's what mattered. Sara ran to his side and gently pried the blindfold off of his eyes. They stayed closed. She took out the keys to her handcuffs and clicked his open.

"Where are those EMT's?" Grissom yelled out of the building.

"Here," one replied, coming in with a partner and carrying a stretcher. They loaded Greg carefully onto the stretcher and carried him out, Tony and Gibbs following.

Sara, Warrick, and Nick stood with Mac's team as they stared at each other and around the warehouse.

"This is bad," Danny sighed.

"What happened?" Lassiter demanded, gripping Henry's shoulders.

The older man shook his head. "I… I don't… Lassiter, they took Shawn!"

"I know," Lassiter growled. "We need to get him back. When did they leave? They couldn't have gotten far!"

"About ten minutes ago," Henry replied. "I heard the tires, Detective. They're long gone."

"Where's Adam?" Danny demanded. "They didn't…?"

Henry just looked at him and sighed. Danny closed his eyes. "Damn it."

Shawn nudged Adam with his shoulder, checking the younger man over in the darkness of the trunk they sat in.

Adam looked up at him miserably. Like Shawn, his hands had been cuffed behind him, and a bandana was shoved into his mouth as a gag, tied tightly around his head. The look in his eyes spoke volumes, however. Shawn could see how much he hated his current situation.

Shawn could understand that.

They were both positioned awkwardly, Shawn partially on his side, his legs sprawled out and twisted. Adam was sitting on top of them, his head and shoulders hunched over to keep from hitting the lid of the trunk, his forehead resting on the cool metal.

The road was bumpy but it was painfully obvious they weren't in Nevada anymore. In fact, Shawn knew exactly where they were, judging from the radio stations that has been blasting through the speakers up front. What he couldn't understand was why the hell they were in Texas, of all places.

Finally the car slowed to a stop, and a few seconds later the trunk opened. Shawn noted that it was still dark but the sun was peaking out on the horizon, while the moon shone clearly at the opposite part of the sky.

"Out," said the man, still holding that ridiculously large gun and aiming it at Shawn's head.

Shawn would've liked to shoot a retort, something, anything to cope with this current situation. But he struggled to swing his legs over the side of the trunk and stand, wobbling a bit unsteadily next to Adam and staring at the three men in front of him.

Three?

Adam froze next to him, staring wide eyed at the third man who'd appeared out of nowhere. A second later he was shaking, although be it fear or uncontrollable rage that set him off Shawn couldn't tell.

"I figure you should know," the man said, speaking directly to Adam, "what exactly happened. I know you recognize me, although Spencer is pretty lost."

He turned to Shawn. "My name is Montgomery. I was a CSI once."

Ah. That explained a lot, Shawn thought as he turned his head slightly to Adam. The younger man looked absolutely furious. He wondered what history Adam had with him.

"Funny, isn't it," Montgomery said to the two captives, "that the two hostages I managed to salvage from that disaster were the two I had targeted from the beginning."

Hilarious. Shawn glared at the man who looked slightly younger then him. Now that his mask was off, it was interesting to see that the wrinkles he'd sported had disappeared and made him much, much younger. If he had to guess, Montgomery couldn't have been much older then Greg or Adam.

Montgomery chuckled. "Nothing to say, Spencer? That's alright. I have some unfinished business, but you and Adam are going on a road trip. I hope you're comfortable."

He nodded at the men, who untied Shawn's gag. The psychic licked his lips and raised a brow at Montgomery. "Just peachy, thanks. How 'bout you, Adam?"

The CSI looked at him like he'd gone a little weird. "As a matter of fact, I don't think being handcuffed, gagged, and stuffed in a trunk shared by another person is very comfortable, no."

That brought a smile to Shawn's lips, although it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, to relieve some of that discomfort, might you, Montgomery, permit us to the little boys' room?"

Montgomery smirked. "One at a time. It saddens me, gentlemen, that I have to leave you at this time. But don't worry. I'm leaving you in capable hands."

He nodded to one of them men and they took Adam into the building Shawn noticed when they'd come out. Now that he'd gotten a good look at it, the building resembled a gas station, but it had definitely been deserted for some time. Shawn wondered why.

The minute they were gone Montgomery climbed into his car and took off down the empty road, towards the horizon where the sun was rising. Shawn stared after him.

"Road trip?" he muttered aloud. "Unfinished business?"

The man guarding him refused to answer, but that was alright by Shawn.

Adam came back a few minutes later, and Shawn was escorted into the building. As he suspected the building must've been used for a gas station convenient store but where the gasoline stalls went was anybody's guess.

The man stood outside, hawk eyes watching him stoically. Shawn found it incredibly uncomfortable as he tried to think of a way to stall and get his friends a message to where he was.

"So…" he said, jingling his cuffs. "You gonna let me out of these?"

He stared at him, and Shawn bit his lip. "I'll take that as a no…"

The man cocked his gun at Shawn.

"Whoa, whoa," he protested. "Jeez, man, how am I supposed to do my business with that thing pointed at my head? Could you just… just, leave? Just right outside the door, please!"

The man glared at him. "Nothing funny."

"Scout's honor," Shawn promised. The man eyed him and backed out of the door. Shawn waited until he was sure the door had been closed and looked frantically around the room.

The window was tiny and up at the ceiling, but Shawn had experience with these kind of escapes before. He stood at the edge of the sink and grabbed the lock with his teeth, twisting violently to get it open. Then he wriggled his way awkwardly out the window, his hands still cuffed behind him.

Once he set down on the ground he found some rocks and spelled a message quickly out of them. There was no telling if anyone would actually see it, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

On his way back in the man caught him.

"What the hell?" He grabbed Shawn and hauled him back, then smashing the butt of the gun into the side of his face. "What did I tell you about funny business?"

"Psh, like I'm a scout?" Shawn retorted smugly.

The man who was still to be named scowled and raised his gun again. That was the last sight Shawn remembered.