13:11 , 13:10 , 13:09 , 13:08 ...

"I'm live from Howard Hughes Parkway where there are reports of a possible second bombing taking place. It's been reported that an anonymous caller called the crime lab warning them about a second bomb. The crime lab accompanied by LVPD was able to successfully evacuate the suspected target whilst bomb disposal are..."

Archie switched off the TV and arrived in the lab beaming, "I've identified the car; it's a GMC Yukon XL! Someone get me on the phone to Catherine!"

"Wait, I have more!" Mandy called out, "I had a look at our suspect, Larry Durman's credit card records, he rented out a GMC Yukon XL from McCarron earlier today. It's white with plates Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln."

"I'll call her!" Hodges exclaimed, pulling out his cell for the second time in five minutes. "Come on Cath, pick up..."

12:38 , 12:37 , 12:36 , 12:35 ...

Catherine jumped as her phone began chirping again, she fumbled around with it before answering, "tell me you got something new Hodges," she asked desperately bringing out her notepad.

"Yeah, we got the wrong car, the guy used a rental," Hodges' voice sounded out of the phone, "the bomb's in a white GMC Yukon XL. Plates are Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln."

Catherine quickly snapped her phone shut and pulled out her radio again, "The bomb's in a white GMC Yukon XL, great big SUV! We were wrong the first time; plates are Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln. That's Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln."

Catherine put the radio down, begging to herself quietly that they had got it right this time. Please, let it be in this car, she thought to herself, knowing that if she was wrong this time, twenty people will be dead and afterwards, she was most certainly going to make twenty-one.

12:01 , 12:00 , 11:59 , 11:58 ...

Nevada, Four, Eight, Three, Adam, Queen, Lincoln. Nevada, Four, Eight, Three, Adam, Queen, Lincoln. Nevada, Four, Eight, Three, A, Q, L. The letters and numbers swirled around Nora's head as she looked for the new bomb, and like before, she couldn't see it anywhere. There wasn't even an SUV parked near the pillars and the only two on this floor were black.

Her trance was broken by the sounds of dogs barking and Mickey's voice sounded down the radio, "Nora, we got it, third floor; you'll see us, hurry!" A huge wave of relief spread over Nora upon the bomb's discovery. Disarming a simple pipe bomb was relatively simple, although ultimately care and precision was required and they still had just over ten minutes to ensure it was disposed effectively. She and her other units quickly reached the third level to see that Mickey and his men had already placed the explosive component inside a large metal container.

"Sorry we started without you," Mickey said looking relieved, "it was a pretty big ass bomb, we're gonna go and detonate it out in the desert if you want to join us."

"Delightful," she replied happily, "can we send CSI in now?"

"We better wait until we clear the car park, we've gone round again just to check there aren't any more but this is as big as they get."

"Okay, I'll pass on the good news."

"Code Four, bomb is disarmed and ready for transportation for a controlled detonation," Nora's voice sounded along their radios. Catherine and the rest of the team breathed a huge sigh of relief at the news, "send CSI in once my guys have left."

"Okay, understood," came Brass' response.

Catherine sat down on the grass and looked back at the day's events. She stifled a yawn and it was only then she realised that she had been awake for over nineteen hours. The day had started off relatively easy, Nick, Sara and Greg had been assigned a slam-dunk B&E and the rest of the team had a quiet night in. Most of the morning had been spent processing the initial bomb scene and Catherine realised she'd been burnt by the sun, despite it being significantly cooler than in previous weeks. She then thought back to her argument with the mayor, and the suspicious call warning her of the bomb. It was hard to believe that that had occurred less than half an hour ago.

She noticed that the bomb squad were now leaving the car park and their vans were driving off, sirens sounding and lights flashing. Catherine ushered her team to start processing the car straight away. "We may know who are bomber is, but we still need the evidence to convict him," she reminded her team.

"Urrm... what would you like me to do, Catherine?" Bobby asked, following Catherine whilst handling both hers and his kit.

"Well seeing as you aren't qualified for collection, you can be photographer, make sure you get both close-ups and some long-distance shots though. Make sure to check that you have your date and time stamp on as well."

"Sure thing," he replied and headed off following Sara and Greg to the area where the car was. Catherine hung back for a bit, still exhausted and taken aback by what had happened.

"You did good, Catherine," a familiar and friendly voice spoke to her. "You saved a good five hundred peoples' lives today."

"Thanks Nick," was all she could respond. The statistics and the facts hadn't truly sunk in yet; she knew there would be a time to reflect over what had happened after shift had ended. "It wasn't all me though."

"Yeah but we wouldn't be able to if it wasn't for your leadership," Nick reminded her, "at the crime scene, in the layout room, here right now, a lot of these people wouldn't be here now were it not for..."

"I'm sure you'd have done the same if you were in my shoes."

"Don't be so modest Catherine. You know, if ever you doubt yourself, or your leadership in the future again, I guarantee you'll look back at today and you'll realise just how good you are."

Catherine didn't have anything to say to this, because deep down she knew he was right and she certainly felt better, having beginning to doubt her leadership capabilities.

"Captain, our suspects peeling off," the radio suddenly sprung to life and Catherine remembered that whilst disabling the bomb was their priority, they still had to catch the suspect, "requesting back up towards Spring Mountain and West Decatur."

"Affirmative, back-up will be with you in approximately five minutes, make sure you update your location." Brass responded on the radio, he rushed over to Catherine, panting, "Catherine, I'm heading out to get our guy, I need one of your CSIs in case things don't go so well."

"Sure, take Nick," she quickly replied, looking at Nick who nodded his head in agreement. "Take care!"

"Don't worry about us," Nick called as he jumped into the passenger seat of Brass' car, "you just focus on processing the SUV."

Before she had a chance to reply, Brass had switched on his sirens, and peeled out of the area, she heard the distant revs of the car diminishing and she began to dread what Larry Durman had in store for them.

"Control, suspect is heading down Industrial, where on earth is back-up?"

"Back-up is right behind you."

The red Ford Fiesta recklessly ambled along the busy road, swerving to avoid oncoming traffic and pedestrians, two police cars were hot on its tail and as the driver approached Sahara he saw a further two cars heading straight for his direction. In an attempt to throw his pursuers off course, the driver took a sharp right turn onto Sahara, heading eastwards towards Boulder Highway. The cat and mouse chase had begun around fifteen minutes ago; shortly before his bomb was due to explode however to his frustration, there were no reports of such an explosion occurring, he knew it would be unwise to contact the authorities but on the bright side, he gets his half hour of infamy. The driver took another sharp right onto Maryland where he found he was being pursued by a new vehicle, that belonging to Captain James Brass.

Brass held the steering wheel tightly as he manoeuvred around heavy traffic hoping to eventually corner the renegade vehicle. He cursed to himself every time Larry Durman veered away or suddenly made a dangerous turning. His passenger, Nick said nothing of this, immersed in the chase whilst taking in the sounds of screams, sirens and horns.

The pursuit headed back towards the ghettos of Las Vegas, the driver of the Ford Fiesta was becoming rasher, and he'd now bumped against two vehicles catapulting them onto the sidewalk however the pace of the chase didn't let up. Angry onlookers fumed at them, although there was no time to hear or take in what they were saying. Incidents involving the police were common in this part of town although the scale of this chase could only be trumped by the infamous shoot-out which had occurred almost six years previously, there were now seven cars in pursuit of the vehicle and they were sure that soon he was going to run out of steam.

Determined not to give up, the Fiesta suddenly pulled into a narrow alleyway, stopping at the intersection with another alleyway and the driver hopped out of the car.

"Suspect has proceeded on foot, weapon status unknown, proceed with caution," Brass radioed, pulling up at the entrance to the alley. Other officers followed suit, the suspect had finally been cornered. Brass hopped out of his car, Nick closely following suit and they both approached Larry Durman, guns raised and pointed at the man.

"Larry Durman, LVPD, please hold your hands where I can see them!" Brass called out to Durman, who defiantly reached into his car's glove compartment retracting a pistol, "Drop the weapon! Drop the weapon! Don't make this worse for yourself!"

"Why should I care?" Larry Durman shouted back to him as more police officers began arriving and aiming their guns at the man, "I'm already heading for the needle, what's taking another life going to do for me?"

"Larry, you don't have to do this, we can arrange a deal," Brass called back.

"Oh goody! A choice between death and rotting away in a prison cell the rest of my life? You're gonna have to do better than that!" He shouted back, cocking his gun.

"Nobody else has to die today, you know if you fire one shot, then we empty our casings. Don't do this to yourself!"

"What's in it for me, huh? What do I get doing this?"

"You get to tell your story," Nick replied, "and trust me, I'm sure it is one worth listening to! So, just lower your weapon, don't be remembered for the guy who got shot down by a dozen policemen, be remembered for the guy who made the right decision."

Durman hesitated at Nick's words, he began thinking, he put his hands on his head with frustration and with a loud growl he threw his weapon aside. Brass immediately took advantage of the situation and ran up to the man telling him, "hands on the hood, please," the man obliged and Brass took the man's arms from behind his back and cuffed him, Brass quietly whispered to him his rights to remain silent and pulled him away towards his car.

"I've got one thing you might want to listen to," Durman muttered to Brass quietly as he was led away, "you might want to get your men to stand back." He then raised his voice and shouted out behind him, "you hear that? Get back, get back I tell you!"

In a surprising move, Durman managed to wriggle away from Brass' clutch and scarpered off, although not in the direction of the street, but back into the middle of the alley. Brass quickly reached for his holster and brandished his weapon, aiming it at the estranged suspect running away from him, still handcuffed. Nick shouted out to the suspect and prepared to squeeze the trigger of his own gun when suddenly the world around him shook as the Ford Fiesta was engulfed in a tremendous fireball. The force of the blast knocked the two of them off their feet and they were thrown on the floor. Debris went flying and the surprised yelps of police officers echoed along the alleys although they were quickly drowned out by the blast and the subsequent roaring inferno which swarmed the car.

Brass sat up, dazed slightly by the blast as his distorted world began to sift into focus. He noticed that he had suffered some minor scratching and bruising although his ears were still ringing from the initial explosion. He turned to his colleague and saw that he too had suffered minor injuries and he hoped that everyone in the vicinity had not been inflicted heavily. A loud groaning became apparent as Brass saw the body of Larry Durman, lying face down on the ground, his skin charred by the explosion and burns covering a large proportion of exposed skin.

Brass calmly reached for his radio, speaking into it, "Dispatch, I need ambulances and fire crew to my location ASAP, and bring me a coroner too, just in case."

"... the rescue and recovery efforts were strongly praised by the mayor regarding Thursday's events, as evidenced in Mayor Logan Grimmle's statement earlier today regarding the bombing."

"Thursday, June the thirtieth, twenty eleven will be remembered as a dark day for many people involved in the bombings at Flamingo and Downtown as well as the scare at NevadaTelecom. However, it will also be remembered as a day in which we could really count on our emergency services, the people of Las Vegas were in trouble and they were saved by people who put their lives on the line every day in order to help those more vulnerable. I therefore extend my thanks, on behalf of the people of Las Vegas, to our ambulances and fire crew, to the Las Vegas Police Department, to the Las Vegas Bomb Disposal Unit and also to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Without their admirable efforts, I fear that..."

Sara switched off the TV and went to sit down by Nick in a waiting room in Desert Palms Hospital. Larry Durman had been in surgery several hours, and it was still in the interest of both CSI and the people of Las Vegas to finally get some closure into the case involving the bombing of Marie Freybould's Ford Focus, which meant that the grave shift had to stay at the hospital to talk to him when he woke up.

"Hey," Brass walked into the room and quietly took a seat next to them, "how's he doing?"

"He got out of surgery an hour and a half ago," Sara said, "we're just waiting for a nurse to send us in." She noted the band aids and bruises plastered over Brass and felt inclined to ask whether he was doing alright.

"I'll live," he smiled to her.

At that moment a nurse popped her head around the door, "Mr Durman is ready, Captain."

"Right," Brass said, hoisting himself out of the seat, "let's go and speak to him."

"We request he only has two visitors at a time," the nurse spoke.

"Nick, you've been here a few hours," Sara began, "you need some res..."

"No, don't worry, you can go home," Nick cut in.

"She's right Nick, go home and sleep it off," Brass told him to which Nick agreed and got out of his seat to leave the hospital. The two of them walked down the corridor and the nurse warned them that he'd suffered extensive third degree burns to the lower half of his body.

Ray sat quietly in the seat whilst the doctor and the attending nurse began whispering to each other. He felt uneasy at what was being discussed and feared the worst. The doctor eventually walked over to Ray and with a solemn expression handed him a chart.

"Is it good news?" Ray asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"I'm afraid not," the doctor replied somberly.

Ray took a deep breath and opened the chart, hoping that the results proved to be better than he had anticipated. Upon reading it, he wasn't surprised but his stomach still plunged with despair. He looked up at the doctor and asked her quietly, "what are my options?"

Brass was taken aback at the condition of the man. Every inch of his arms and legs was completely charred, only his face appeared to have survived any burning. He was connected up to a heart monitor which beeped ominously and it took a few moments for Brass to realise that his right leg had been amputated. Durman sensed their presence in the room and he turned his head to face them.

"Can he talk?" Sara asked the nurse, she shook her head, informing them that he hadn't shown any signs of communication other than nodding or shaking his head.

"Okay Mr Durman," Brass began awkwardly, even he had become uncomfortable at interviewing a suspect who was left in this state. "We have your epithelials on a blasting cap used to make the bomb which killed Marie Freybould and Patrick McConnors. We also have your prints on the steering wheel of the car which you attempted to blow up to take down the NevadaTelecom building and your credit records also show you rented the car that very morning."

Durman simply nodded, accepting his fate, it was at that moment Brass realised that what he was doing was pointless. They knew they got the guy, the guy knew he'd been caught and it seemed almost cruel that he had been sent here by the mayor in order to boost his publicity and popularity with the people of Vegas. Brass sighed and looked at the man again. He didn't deserve this as well; he was already serving his death sentence.

"Listen, "Brass continued, "this isn't easy for me to ask, but I need to know why you were intent on your actions on Thursday. We understand you were arrested in February for suspicion of illegal possession of dynamite, but the charges were dropped." Durman nodded.

"Then," Sara carried the story on, "you ended up being fired from your job and we found out that your wife divorced you shortly afterwards, you end up in debt and you lose almost everything. Your life was turned on its head just by one accusation." Durman nodded again.

"You'd think your work would forgive you, it was never proven you possessed the dynamite so they didn't have to fire you. You blamed the company for ruining your life and what better way to get your revenge by blowing up the building with some dynamite, a rather fitting method as you was wrongly accused of possessing it." Durman made no gestures this time.

"But your first bomb failed," Sara carried on, "it was rather convenient living next to the assistant director of your target wasn't it? You could just plant the bomb during the night, but you didn't anticipate her being stuck in traffic so you realised you had to do job yourself. You drove to the office, took a bus to McCarron and bought a rental car which you placed your second bomb in, then you drove out using your old car to get away." Durman nodded, acknowledging her assumptions and findings.

"In any normal circumstances," Brass began talking, "your crimes would warrant you the death penalty, however given the fact of your condition..." Brass faltered off, unsure of the consequences.

"I'll just remain imprisoned in a chrysalis," a faint voice emerged from Durham's mouth. "I deserve no better." Brass and Sara stood there motionless, uneasy at the situation they were in, Durman mustered up enough strength to speak again, "but you've got one thing wrong Captain. You were right the first time."

He looked at them both for an instant, before drifting off into unconsciousness. Brass breathed out deeply, "thank you for your time, Mr Durman," he muttered and the two of them left the man in his vegetative state.

"Why did we have to do that?" Sara asked, looking furious with herself as the two of them walked towards the hospital exit. "What gain has been made from getting a confession from pretty much a dead man?"

Brass shook his head and sighed, "because to some people, a dead man simply isn't closure."

A/N: And that is the end of the story. The next story in the series, Deep Freeze (1x04) will be published on Friday July 8, so be sure to have a look at that if you enjoyed this and the previous stories. Alternatively, if you started with this one, you can to go back and read the other two.

Thank you all for reading and feel free to review and let me know what you thought! :)