When The Days Are Cold
And The Cards All Fold
And The Saints We See
Are All Made Of Gold
Roughly about 10:30 PM
Patrick Bonanno had just crawled into bed to snuggle up close to his wife who was softly snoring as he gathered her close to his weary body. He'd put in close to 18 hours that day all of it spent trying to solve the mystery of the bodily remains found at Eliot's crime scene. He'd spent most of that time going over every detail in the CSI reports and the witness statements from Eliot's elderly neighbors as well as the statement he'd taken from Eliot's sister. Her's had been the hardest to get as he'd tried hard to mke sure she didn't know what exactly had gone on at Eliot's.
And despite all of the information he'd gathered, he was still no closer to identifying the remains or in finding Eliot. He'd more or less put Eliot's recovery on the back burner, trusting Nate Ford, his team and Eliot's friends in the military to pursue that. Nate knew he had his help if he needed it in finding Eliot, but he was sure this Colonel Vance and Major Whitmore were more than capable of doing what would undoubtedly need to be done to bring Eliot back safely.
He knew he shouldn't let the crime go though, but he knew it was useless to spend his time pursuing that when he'd only hear things he really didn't want to hear. If there was one thing he knew without a doubt about Ford and his team it was the fact they'd find answers a lot quicker than he could.
So he'd concentrated on the remains. His CSI guy, Hoskins didn't have anything more to tell him when he'd left the precinct an hour ago, so he didn't hold out much hope. He would just have to concentrate on some of his other cases until something new came up.
He'd just been about to nod off when his cell rang on the nightstand behind his head. He yawned and stretched to reach for it without disturbing his wife.
"Bonanno." He stated sleepily into the phone.
"Pat? It's David...Hoskins."
The detective immediately became alert as he slowly extricated his other arm from around his wife and moved to get up out of the bed. "What is it, David?" He asked as he quietly moved into the master bathroom so as not to disturb his wife with his conversation.
"I just got some more reports back on the John Doe remains from the Spencer crime scene."
"Are you still at work?"
The scientist sighed as he felt the fatique settling in his bones. "Yeah, well I am now. I'd gone home for a little while, but something had been bothering me about the remains so I went to the morgue to go over them myself." He shuffled some papers around and the sound carried over into Bonanno's ear. "I know I already told you that the man had been dead for 24-48 hours before the bombing, but that's all we'd been able to determine at the time. I just couldn't figure out what was nagging at me, until got the report from Les that confirmed the victim's age."
"And that's what's nagging at you? His age?"
"Well yes and no. I mean I'd already determined from the tissue results that the person was an older adult, probably around 70, but I wasn't 100% on that, so I went back and checked and there were some more remains that were logged in while I was at home and I found a significant clue in those. The man was more likely closer to 80 years old."
"Okay, still not quite following." Again Bonanno heard the man sigh. "Wait, you said more remains were logged in? You found more at the scene since this morning?"
"Yeah...well you were out doing your rounds when they were collected and they hadn't been examined yet by Lester so I didn't say anything on those until they could get analyzed. It's those remains that held more DNA and I just discovered who the DNA belongs too."
"Who? How?" Bonanno had a sinking feeling that learning the identity wasn't going to put anything to rest. It was just going create more questions.
"We ran the DNA through CODIS and got a hit to a cold case in Texas. They belong to a man named Daniel Thomas Wright."
"Who's that? What's he in CODIS for?"
"He did a stint in Huntsville during 1977 when he was about 45. All I know was it was armed robbery. You'll have to follow that up, but I can tell you that Daniel Thomas Wright didn't exist until about a year beore he went to prison in Texas. Before 1976 there is nothing on him. He shows up in CODIS because after he was released from Huntsville in 1987 he was impicated in another robbery in McAlester, OK and then two others, one in 1992 and the other in 1997 both in Birmingham, AL. Alabama's the one who added him to CODIS after the '97 arrest. Then the cold case in Texas hit on that DNA too. I don't have any other prison records, looks like his age kept him out of prison pretty much or he had a really good lawyer. But he's seen a lot of jails over the years. All of his crimes have been pretty much robbery themed except for this cold case. However he's been all over the south so there may be more cases out there."
"Okay, so the old guy made robbery his lifestyle of choice. How is he related to Spencer and why was he at his house? And why the name change and hidden identity?"
"Those are all good questions, but I can only give you the answer to the first. He's Eliot Spencer's grandfather. The rest is up to you to find the answers to."
Bonanno took the information in. "What's the cold case in Texas?" Knowing with a sinking feeling that case was the at the core of his death.
"It's a murder case. An elderly woman was found dead in her home and his DNA was all over the scene. But not as the suspect."
"As what then?"
"The woman's husband. Her name was Viola Watson Wright. She was his wife."
Eliot knew what was coming the minute the man with the extended cattle prod touched him again. It didn't matter that the Doctor had sewn him up, his wounds would begin bleeding again and he didn't have the energy to fight him off. He didn't have the energy to fight off the pain anymore. He didn't want to die, but he couldn't take another shot of electricity. He was running out of juice here.
As the man slowly approached him, he felt his arms begin to shake from the strain of hanging there. But he had to push the pain down; deep down. He had to come up with the energy to fight. He knew he had to and he knew if he couldn't, he'd die and he wasn't gonna die, not today. He had to get out of this.
Slowly as he watched, the man stopped suddenly and dropped the cattle prod as he cocked his head slightly to his left. Eliot realized at the same as the other man that something was off. There had been a noise. A very slight noise that was out of place here in this abandoned building. The man turned to look behind him back at the Doctor. Eliot could just make out the new sound. It was the distinctive sound of an old fashioned .38 revolver being cocked.
"What are you doing sir?" He asked the Doctor.
"My job, Benny." The Doctor replied as he aimed the gun not at Eliot but at the other man.
And that was when Eliot realized something else was out of place. There was the distant sound of a whosh whosh echoing against the building. Eliot knew that sound by heart. He'd lived that sound everytime he was on one of these missions. It was the sound of helicopter blades. Someone was coming. Good or bad, he couldn't place just yet, but none the less someone was coming.
The Doctor had also heard the sound and as his attention wavered from Benny to listen to the incoming danger, he gave Benny the opportunity to pull the knife from his belt that he'd used on Eliot. As the Doctor turned his full attention back to Benny, the man released the blade with lightning speed and Eliot watched as the blade disappeared in the left side of the Doctor.
The man went down and he didn't move. Eliot watched as Benny moved to pick up the cattle prod once more.
"Now there's nothing stopping me from having some fun, American." He said in slightly broken English as he headed for Eliot once more. "Nothing at all."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Eliot replied his voice still sore from the torture he'd already endured. "Company's coming and you don't know if it's my side or yours." He knew it was now or never. "But I'm willing to bet my life it's not yours."
"Then I guess I'll just kill you fast then." He replied as he moved towards Eliot.
Just as Benny reached Eliot and moved to stick the prod against his wet skin, the sound of the explosion rocked the building and took his attention away from Eliot. Benny turned to face the door to the room and Eliot took the opportunity to strike.
He grabbed the chains holding his cuffed hands for support and pulled himself up to reach out and wrap his strong legs around the man's neck. Benny dropped the prod again as he reached with his hands to try and pry Eliot's legs from around his throat.
But Eliot had had enough time to regain enough strength to keep his hold and as he slowly choked the life out of the man, he also had the time to realize that the chopper they'd heard was moving away from them. Whatever the explosion was, it wasn't aimed at rescuing Eliot. It was most likely a ground firefight somewhere close by, but not here.
As he felt the last breath leave Benny, Eliot knew he'd have to hurry if he wanted to get out of there before the fight came his way, and he was not inclined to see anymore enemy soldiers at this point. He just wanted to get out of there. He dropped the lifeless body from his hold and with a cry born of his last reserves, he raised his legs up over his head to reach the chain that was holding him suspended from the ceiling.
Once he had wrapped his legs around the chain and was hanging upside down, he was able to move his hands up over his legs and to continue movin hand over hand until he reached the beam over his head where the chain was suspended from a hook. He was drained but he needed to get free. He held onto the beam and after three attempts to swing his legs around it, he finally succeeded. Slowly and struggling with every movement, he finally moved to hold onto the beam with both hands and legs and swung around until he was now lying across the beam on his stomach.
He took a few precious minutes to catch his breath and regain some control to his shaking limbs before he reached out and lifted the links of chain from the hook that had held him. He let the long chain drop from his grasp so that now he was only restrained with the handcuffs. From here he knew he couldn't drop back to the floor, it was about a twenty foot drop back down and while he knew he'd survive the jump if he were healthy, he knew he couldn't handle it with three knife wounds and shaking limbs. So he looked up.
That's when he saw the small loft about thirty feet in front of him and he grinned when he saw the loft had access not just from the beam he was on, but from a hidden set of stairs he hadn't been able to see from below. If he could get to that loft he could get down and he could get out of here.
He looked down and saw the two bodies lying below him. He spared a quick glance at the torture cart and could just make out a set of keys. Hopefully they were keys to a vehicle and if he was truly lucky there'd be keys to the cuffs as well.
He continued to smile as he slowy began inching himself along the beam towards his target. He was getting out of here and he was so getting out of this business. He'd lost two men today not to mention all the men he'd seen go down in his history. He'd had enough of this. He'd had a mission once, to help his country, but now he was having trouble undertanding that mission with the loss of so many of his friends.
To hell with everyone, but Eliot Hayden Spencer was about to just disappear for good.
Roughly 11:00 PM Boston time and 9:00 PM Oklahoma time
"Hey, sweetie. How're you doin'?" Matthew Whitmore said into his cell. He'd taken a few minutes to step away from the action in Nate Ford's office section of the loft and was now sitting in the living room on the sofa talking to his wife, Emma.
He'd called her to check on her back home with her father. He listened to her answer as he smiled to himself. God, he loved hearing her voice even if they'd been married over ten years now. She was it for him, he knew that. What's more she knew that.
He hadn't told her about Eliot. Not because it was any kind of a secret, but because she was his sister and he knew one thing about these two Spencers above all else. They would die for each other. They'd had only each other after their mother and other siblings had died and their being twins gave them a special bond. Emma knew Eliot led a dangerous life, but she also knew he checked in whenever he could, which had become more regular over the last three years. Snce Eliot had joined Ford's team, he'd taken to checking in more frequently with Emma, and she was happy about that.
But if she knew Eliot was in trouble there would be no way he'd be able to keep her from coming here. She'd want to be right there in the middle of it all, and right now she needed to spend time with her father.
"That's great. How's Spence doin'?" He asked regarding their 8 year old son, Spencer Hayden Whitmore.
He listened as his eyes looked around the room. He was born a military man and it was a hard habit not to continually be aware of your surroundings. So it was because of this his eyes settled on the envelopes lying on the coffee table in front of him.
He saw Parker's name clearly on the top envelope, but it was the second one that got his attention. It was addressed to Emma Whitmore, his wife and Eliot's sister. And the writing was Eliot's. He knew he shouldn't mess with the envelope, it wasn't addressed to him, but he couldn't help wondering why if it was meant for her Ford hadn't given it to him.
He turned to see all of the other crowded around the monitors next to the geeky team member, Hardison. The guy was good at computers, damn good. He smiled as he remembered Eliot's words. The guy was so damn good, he was unreal. It looked like he had something. He turned back to the envelopes as he listened to is wife.
"Look, hon..I gotta let you go, something's come up and I may be unavailable for a while. Take care of Spence and your dad, and I'll be seeing you on Friday." He ended his call just as he heard Vance call him over.
He pocketed his phone as he quickly reached out and picked up Emma's envelope and then saw Jack Spencer on the envelope under hers. He picked it up and quickly folded them and slipped them in his jacket pocket as he stood up and headed over to the others.
"Got something?" He said as he joined them.
"Hell yeah!" Hardison's excitement came through his words as Matt smiled. Yeah too damn good for his own good, he thought. Eliot hould be proud.
Emma Whitmore slowly hung up her phone as she took in the fact that Matt had called her. That wasn't a normal thing when he was working. She always called him even if he couldn't answer, he always checked his voice mail.
If he called her it meant he was thinking about her or their son Spencer. She watched her father sitting with her son at the kitchen table. She smiled at the sight. She loved her father, but she knew he hadn't been the best father in her's and Eliot's later teen years.
She had been hurt by that, but after marrying Matt, she'd started seeing her father again and slowly they'd rebuilt their relationship and after Spencer was born, he'd been great. He loved his grandson. He loved Matt. He always asked about him and how he was.
But he never asked about Eliot. Emma didn't know what exactly had happened between the two the night Eliot had left home, but she knew better than to ask either man. Neither would have told her anything. She'd tried to find out in other ways, but all she knew was there was a lot of resentment between the two. She could guess that Eliot had probably called their father out on his treatment of them after their mother died. She'd felt the same as Eliot and she'd left shortly after Eliot had left after his visit to discover Aimee hadn't waited for him.
Aimee had hurt Eliot when she'd abandoned their love to move away and start another life without him, and at the time Emma had been furious with her, but she knew she couldn't completely fault her. Since she'd married Matt, Emma had learned about how men in the military disappeared. Matt frequently had disappeared during the early years of their marriage and she'd had to learn that special ops wives led totally different lives than regular military wives led.
She watched her father as he worked with Spence on the model car they were building. Her son had gained Eliot's love of cars. Eliot sent the kid a new kit every other month and Matt had built a special display case for the boy's room to hold all the cars. This month it had been a black '67 Chevy Impala.
Spence knew from experience not to mention Uncle Eliot to Grandpa Jack, and so her father didn't know it was Eliot who fed her son's addiction to the model cars. She wondered what he'd say if he knew just how good of an uncle Eliot was. She wondered what he'd say if he knew just how good of a man Eliot really was. Because no matter what Eliot thought about himself, to her he was a good man. He'd always been and he'd always be.
She knew more about things than Eliot thought she did, and she knew how he felt about himself. She saw it in his eyes everytime she saw him. She sighed as she walked over to sit down at the table to join in the conversation between two of the four men in her life.