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[gris_bug_man]

Pick up, Sara. Let me know you're all right.

The call went to voicemail for the sixth time.

Getting in his vehicle, he drove to her last location, the latest crime scene. Walking inside, he saw files scattered and a bloody field kit.

Ten minutes later, the rest of the team had assembled at the sight.

"We're going with the assumption that he wanted her alive," he said roughly, refusing to consider the alternative.

"Spread out, people. See what we can find."

Comments

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Brass immediately picks up his phone, calling in to the Lab.

"Judy, put me through to Archie," he said into the phone, forgoing his normal pleasantries to the young secretary. After a beat, she obviously connects him immediately. "Archie, I need you to track a cell phone, right now. This is your only priority."

Brass turns to Grissom, covering the receiver. "What's her number?"

[gris_bug_man]

He rattles off the number mechanically, attention drawn to a clump of hair on the ground.

Light brown, bloody scalp attached.

Despite his worry, he finds himself smiling. Didn't go without a fight, did you?

"Call DNA as well -- we have hair, scalp, and blood samples. Top priority--this individual may be in the system."

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Brass in turn rattles off the number to Archie. "It's Sara, Archie. Call me if you find anything."

He hangs up the phone unceremoniously, turning to the door to growl at some uniforms who have arrived. "If you even think about disturbing this crime scene, I will personally see to it that you're all flipping burgers by tomorrow. Canvas the area. Anyone who saw anything, ever, bring them to me. If they don't talk, tell them they're going to be held for twenty-four hours in the finest accommodations the Las Vegas Police Department has to offer."

They stand a little dumb-founded, and Brass growls. "Go!"

As the cops starts to canvas the neighborhood, Brass turns back to Grissom as he studies the sample. Brass calls for Vega, and motions down to Grissom's sample. "Bring this in to DNA, as quickly as possible. I'll call it in." As Vega nods, and takes the sample, Brass claps him on the back once and then glaces at Gil.

"She got a piece of him, huh?"

[gris_bug_man]

"So it would seem. He was targeting her the entire time," he says, loathing in his voice. "And we didn't see it."

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

"He's smart," Brass agrees. "But my money is on you."

[gris_bug_man]

A uniform approaches with a teenager in tow. "This guy says he saw someone dragging a lady out. Figured she was a reluctant hooker," the officer reports with disgust.

"Can you describe the individuals for us?" Grissom asks calmly.

The kid, maybe seventeen years old and with enough piercings to set off a metal alarm shrugs. "The lady was thrashing something fierce. He did something to her face and she stopped struggling. She looked thin, dark hair. The guy had brown hair, not as dark as hers. Looked about your age," nodding to Brass. "He put her in a white truck and drove off." He points north.

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Brass gives the kid a determined look. "Anything else you can remember? Markings on the van? The make? License plate? Busted window, bumper sticker, rack on the top, anything? Listen, that lady is our friend. It's important."

[gris_bug_man]

"Ford, I think. The plate began with TXO but I didn't see the rest. He drove off quickly." A horrified look comes on his face. "Listen, man, if I'd known somethin' bad was going down, I would've done something. I swear."

Grissom nods. "Thank you for your help. This officer here will take your statement."

The kid nods, turning to follow the officer before spinning back. "He had a scar on his left--no, right cheek. Looked like a jagged cross. Will that help?"

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Brass lets the fact the kid had no problems when it was a hooker being dragged into a van against her will slide for now.

"Yes, it will," Brass says firmly, pulling the glorified walkie-talkie from his belt.

"I need an APB put out - white truck, possibly a Ford, license plate beginning in Tango, X-Ray, Oscar. Suspect a white male, mid to late 50s, light brown hair, scarring on the right cheek. Heading North. Consider him armed and dangerous, with a hostage," Brass said, swallowing back a touch of bile in his throat for the first time in a long time.

He makes a few more calls - Wendy, Henry to run the plate numbers against the DMV database, and sends a small fleet heading North to start canvassing.

"He fucked up too many times already. We'll find him."

[gris_bug_man]

Grissom's cellphone rings.

Grissom, it's Archie. I put a trace out on Sara's phone, like Brass asked. I've narrowed the location down to a place about fifteen miles from your current location.

"Excellent. Where is the signal originating?"

A few minutes later, he snaps his phone closed. "We have a location. Let's move--and get an ambulance on the way, sirens off."

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Brass sighs a barely noticeable dragon's breath and starts shouting directions to various people as they move to the door.

"Do you have your gun?"

[gris_bug_man]

"Since this case started, I haven't gone anywhere without it."

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Giving Gil a knowing look, he gestured down the driveway to his unmarked vehicle.

"I'm driving."

[gris_bug_man]

He gets in without arguing, one hand already fingering his gun.

[captainbrass.livejournal.com]

Brass flies out of his spot with a screech of tires and a rather reckless three point turn, and starts speeding down the road, most of the uniforms still piling into their cruisers behind them.

He flips on the flashing lights, and they drive in silence for several minutes at an almost negligent speed, the only sounds static over his scanner and disembodied voices neither pays much attention to as the desert flies by the car's slightly tinted windows.

"Gil, I go in first, and you stay behind me and listen to what I'm telling you. You pull any cowboy bullshit with this psycho and there's no telling what he'll do."

[gris_bug_man]

"Fine. Go."