lvpd_sidle | mixed_muses CSI/24 AU

Jack hasn't heard Grissom's approach, but the address makes him snap back to the present.

"What? What do you mean, she's missing?" he asks, feeling his stomach twist, something in his heart tighten at the thought.

"The serial killer we have been investigating this year has abducted her." Grissom keeps his voice level with extreme effort. "I know this because this individual put the miniature showing....in my hands. This individual has had a psychotic break, and it is unlikely regular interrogation methods will get anything out of her."

He takes a deep breath. "The person involved is a woman named Natalie. She abducted Sara, believing her and I to be involved. We are not. She believes that I am responsible for someone taking his life to protect Natalie--and so she wishes to use Sara to get revenge. I have reason to believe that Sara is still alive--the doll is mechanical and still moves."

Jack's on his feet, everything else forgotten except the fear that he's trying to push aside so he can focus. "What does this miniature look like? Where's the last place someone saw her?"

"It shows an overturned Jeep, with a woman's arm sticking out from underneath. The hand moves....the terrain is sandy. Based on surveillance video, I know that Sara was ambushed in a casino's parking garage. Apparently, she had dinner there. Natalie used a tazer on her."

Grissom studies the other man intently. "Sara told me that you have investigative and interrogative experience. I am willing to claim you as an outside consultant and have the Bar provide documentation if you are willing to help us. She's...important to me, and to my team."

Jack takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm, when inside he really wants to freak out.

"I'll do it. Just give me a minute to leave a note for my daughter and tell her where I'm going."

It's sad that it's now, when there's a crisis, that he's the most pulled-together and determined that he's been since he stepped into the bar for the first time. Almost like a completely different person.

"Of course." While Jack is busy putting that affair in order, Grissom makes a low-voiced request of the Bar.

After a moment, he hands over the necessary items to Jack. With the state of panic at the lab, there was little chance he would be investigated, and no chance it would ever be found.

"I do know one thing--the only commonality at all the previous scenes was the presence of bleach. And based on Natalie's history, that may be her trigger. I know that Captain Brass is already prepared to bring that in."

"We might need it; I can try talking to her first." He's not sure how much he'll be able to do--Las Vegas PD isn't CTU, and this Natalie isn't a terrorist--but he'll push the rules as far as he can. He sure doesn't have many friends at the moment, and Sara's certainly the closest.

Jack leaves the bar, leaving the door open as he quickly scrawls a note for Kim.

A friend of mine from the bar is in trouble; I'm going to her world to see if I can help. Hopefully I won't be long. I'll be back, I promise. - Dad

He grabs his gun, then heads into the bar again. "I'm ready to go when you are."

The door opens outside of the police department. Grissom leads Jack inside, bypassing the secretary's desk and heading straight to the back.

Brass meets him halfway through. "I'm getting nowhere with this bit---who are you?"

"This is Jack Bauer. He has extensive experience in interrogation and dealing with this type of individual," Grissom says smoothly, though with a note of urgency. "Where is she?"

Brass studies Jack for a moment before nodding sharply. "Interrogation room one. The camera...hasn't been functioning well today."

Do what you have to do.

Jack looks into the interrogation room, his focus starting to slip for a moment. Small room, concrete walls; it's hard to keep his breathing under control when his heart starts to beat faster, but he manages it, even as he can hear the click of the handcuffs on his wrists in his memory. This isn't like that, he's the one in charge.

But he's not sure he can do what it takes to get the information from her, not after everything he's been through, after watching Graem cringe and scream and hearing his own screams in his head.

"You said you had a bottle of bleach handy?" he asks.

"Right here," Brass says gruffly, handing it over. "She's convinced that Grissom is responsible for another man committing suicide to protect her and she wants revenge. We know she killed her sister when she was ten years old and was placed up for adoption. Beyond that...I'll leave it in your hands. The camera won't be working for a while."

Jack nods, taking the bottle of bleach from Brass' hand. Natalie isn't looking at the door, and Jack holds the bottle slightly behind him as he walks in.

He places it beside the chair across from her. He'll save it, see how far he can get just asking a couple questions. It's a key element to interrogations; you have to build to a break, you can't bring out all your material right at the start unless you have to, because if you can't convert it to a break, you have nothing to work with. And that's when the subject isn't delusional.

"Hello, Natalie," he says, keeping his voice low, smiling at her with almost a sinister light. The more cracked he can seem, the more unexpected his reaction, the better. "I'm Jack, a friend of Sara's. A good friend. Mr. Grissom tells me that you know where she is, and you're not telling anyone."

She shakes her head in a jerking motion, darting quick looks at Jack. "I watched the others. The doll will die. They always do." A sick smile twists her lips. "He loves her. He loved me. He died. He'll know she'll die and it's his fault."

"Except you've got a problem there, Natalie," he says, leaning across the table. "You made two big assumptions. One, that she'll be dead before we find her. And two, that Grissom loves her, and he'll be delusional enough to believe it's his fault. Problem is, he doesn't love her. Not as much you loved Ernie, and so the only person he's going to blame is you."

His smile widens. "All that time making the model, all that attention to detail...and you got so much of it wrong."

She jerks violently, shaking her head, her mouth open. She is clearly stunned. "Wrong? I'm not wrong I watched them he touched her face he held her arm...."

She shakes her head violently again. "Too late. Too late. She will die. She won't get free. She can't get free."

When she's not looking, he lifts the bottle of bleach and quietly places it on the table, not looking at it, almost as if it's not there.

"They work together, he has to touch her arm to get her attention, to pass something to her."

He leans in, again. "You went to all the trouble to make the model, and then you dump Sara somewhere. Don't you want us to see how close the model is to real life? Don't you want us to see how accurate you got all those little details; the only things you got right? How are we supposed to do that if we don't know where she is?"

Natalie sees the bottle and shakes even more, almost vibrating in her seat. "Bleach," she says softly, as if in a trance. "I hate the smell of bleach. Can't forget it."

---

Sara breathes heavily, pulling as hard as she can at her arm. She's moved beyond feeling simple physical pain.

Gotta get out gotta get out get out get out GET OUT!

She sees the rearview mirror and manages to pull it down.

Then it begins to drizzle.

She feels the bones in her arm snap and cries out.

Then she continues pounding at the window.

GET OUT!

---

"Flash floods are expected," Brass murmurs lowly to Grissom, studying the interrogation.

"Fuck," Grissom breathes. "Fuck! If we can't get through soon..."

"She may drown."

Jack watches her shake, part of him recoiling from what he has to do, from pushing her closer and closer to the edge, screwing with her head as the Chinese screwed with his. Concentating on what he's doing, trying to put the memories to the back of his mind, he puts his hand on the cap, twisting it back and forth, open and closed, but not lifting it off. The chemical burn scars on the back of his hand are clearly visible to her. "Where is she, Natalie?"

"The smell. The SMELL!" She recoils again, backing away, knocking her chair down. "Behind the car dealership out in the desert. Oh god, the smell, the smell, I can't forget it I can't forget it I can't forget anything...."

Brass looks at Grissom. "Car dealership?"

"I think I know what she's talking about." Nick's voice startles the other two--they hadn't seen him come into the room. "Found an advertisement for a used vehicle lot out of the city limits."

"Desert?"

"Yes."

"I'll call a search-rescue copter."

Grissom opens the door, going in only two feet. "Jack," is all that he says. They have a lead now. They have hope.

--

Water floods into the car in a steady force.

Sara keeps pounding at the window.

Use the pressure against the glass. Wait if you need to--you can hold your breath.

You will not die here.

YOU WILL NOT DIE HERE!

Something in him--some dark, vengeful part of him--is tempted to pull the cap off after she breaks, to let the smell out into the room instead of just being in her head, but instead he forces himself to twist the cap closed, leaving the bottle on the table as police officers come in to restrain her.

He hurries out the door, only noticing his own hands trembling once he's outside the room, away from that one-way mirror and concrete walls that seem too close.

"You've got a location and a chopper standing by?" he asks, assuming the answer to both is "yes".

"Yes," is the clipped answer. "This way." And after a moment, Grissom looks at the other man. "Thank you. I...could see that was difficult for you."

He could also see something else there. A remnant of an expression that he used to wear whenever he had been around Sara. Wistfulness.

Don't be the fool I was.

The copter is on the roof of the building. Brass rattles off the approximate location to the pilot, giving up his seat for Jack. "We'll be following on the ground!" he shouts just before the pilot shuts the door. He watches the copter take off.

--

Almost got it, Sara. Keep pounding. Keep pounding.

She raises her head above the water with effort, gulping in a few painful breaths.

Keep pounding.

Jack nods his thanks and hops in, pulling on the headset and buckling in as they take off. Rain splatters against the windshield, making it difficult to see. He's flown in worse, but he's never had to try and find someone from the air in rain this heavy, even a controlled search like this.

They're over the car lot in minutes, and Jack shifts from his seat into the back of the helicopter, strapping on a harness and clipping himself to a bar so he can hang out the door, searching the ground. He's soaked in minutes, but he barely notices, everything in him focussed on the patch fo ground lit by the chopper's spotlight.

I can't let her down, not like everyone else. She has to be alive--

After a moment, Jack is pulled back into the copter, not seeing anything on the ground. "I see a dirt road back here--I'll follow it!" The pilot shouts, moving the craft along.

"There!" Grissom yells, seeing the searchlight come on an overturned vehicle. The rain is pounding hard and he can see that it is flooding. Be safe, Sara. Please be safe.

COME ON!

She pounds at the window with the last of her strength and feels it burst open. Water rushes out. Breathing heavily, she frees her broken arm, and crawls out, into light.

Light? She looks up, making out the copter above her.

She waves weakly.

He's just propping one foot on the skid to lean out and search when he spots the small figure moving against the background of rushing water and mud.

"I've got her!" he yells over the storm, "Give me the cable!" The rescue team balks, one of them reaching to pull Jack back in. "Dammit, I was in Special Forces; I've probably done this as many times as you have, now hook me up!"

Maybe it's his faked credentials, maybe just the force of his personality, but in seconds, they're snapping the line onto his harness. Sliding out of the helicopter, he turns his back t the open air an rests his feet on the skid for a moment before jumping backwards, jerking his thumb downward to signal the crew to lower him down.

At this moment, Sara doesn't care who is coming down. All she knows is that she wants away from wherever she is and she would really like to be warm again.

She shivers, knowing that she's already gone into shock. Internal bleeding may be a factor. My arm's broken. Concussion, some other cuts...

She moves forward to meet the descending figure.

She blinks, almost certain that she's hallucinating. "Jack?" Her voice is a rough croak.

He keeps his knees bent as he touches the ground, the rescue team quickly letting out a lot of slack so he doesn't have to worry about getting pulled off his feet as the helicopter moves in the storm's winds. He can't go far, though, and he reaches out to support her as soon as she gets close enough.

"Sara, are you okay, are you hurt anywhere other than your arm?" She's on her feet which is enough, though the way she's hugging her arm to her chest indicates that she's injured it somehow.

mixed_muses CSI/24 AU

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