By Donn Cortez
A lavish penthouse occasion on best of a Vegas lodge and on line casino performs host to a strange set-up to homicide within which a safety shield is trapped and killed in a personal elevator--and the physique quickly vanishes . . . major crime scene investigators Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders instantly to an uncanny circus troupe with lethal connections to none except the Russian mafia. meanwhile, Ray Langston and Catherine Willows are referred to as to a psychiatric facility the place sufferers have simply escaped after attacking an orderly. one of many escaped sufferers, an Iraq warfare veteran, controlled to smuggle in a military-grade nerve gasoline, inducing lifelike and shared third-dimensional illusions and hallucinations . . . and Ray and Catherine needs to race opposed to time which will locate very risky participants now roaming freely at the streets of Las Vegas. . . .
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Additional info for Dark Sundays (CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Book 15)
She seemed up. “People attempting to break out bears occasionally climb trees—maybe the shield went up rather than out? ” “Exit hatch is closed,” acknowledged Greg. “Could be he used it, then placed the canopy again in position. ” Tanner nodded. “There could be a stepladder within the provide closet. I’ll be correct again. ” One mile earlier the Vegas urban limits, a guy and a girl shamble out of the wilderness. The moon above them is a big eye, gazing them with chilly, unblinking hostility. The woman’s throat has been reduce, however the wound has lengthy for the reason that stopped bleeding. It hasn’t healed; it’s run dry. Her eyes are empty and dead, her pores and skin as white as medical institution linen lower than the lunar glare. the fellow is lean and muscular, his hair a black army bristle over a cranium etched with scars. His correct hand is certain in one of those sling, the wrist lashed to the forearm with strips of torn fabric. The arm bears just a cursory resemblance to a human limb; it really is lined with thick, overlapping scales of a deep orange, and it leads to a hand tipped with lengthy, curving black claws. The hand twitches grotesquely because the guy walks, flopping opposed to his chest and waggling its lengthy palms like a spider on its again. The many-hued lighting of town upward thrust prior to them: flame-flickering reds, lurid alien vegetables, blues and whites arcing like lightning. “Tired, Bannister,” the lady says. Her voice is a harsh croak. “So drained. ” “Soon, Theria,” he grants. “We’re virtually there. You’ll manage to relaxation then. ” “Rest. certain. leisure endlessly . . . ” They proceed on, their footsteps sluggish yet resolute. They don’t pause after they achieve the signal on the outskirts; they already comprehend precisely the place they're and the place they’re going. They’re in hell. 2 SARA driven OPEN the hatch within the elevator’s roof carefully, then poked her head within. She shone a flashlight round. “No guard,” she referred to as down. “But i believe I’ve obtained a few move at the fringe of the hatch. ” Greg passed her up a couple of tweezers and an explanation bag. She accrued the pattern rigorously and passed it go into reverse. Greg studied the pattern. “I imagine there’s a few blood on it, too. ” “There’s extra blood at the aspect. i feel our shield should have been the following. ” “But he’s no longer now? might be he climbed as much as the subsequent flooring. ” “I doubt it,” acknowledged Tanner. “We have been correct open air that door a couple of minutes in the past. I didn’t see any blood or symptoms that it were pressured open from the opposite aspect. ” Greg placed the facts bag apart. “Maybe he climbed as much as one other flooring? ” Tanner shook his head. “He’d have a ways to move. this can be the owner’s inner most elevator, and it in basic terms stops at 3 areas: right here, the most flooring, and the penthouse suite. Ain’t not anything in among yet a twenty-story concrete tunnel working directly up and down. ” Sara clambered all through the hatch and stood up at the roof of the auto. Her flashlight’s beam stumbled on the metal rungs of a ladder set into one wall and a pink smear of blood on of them. “I’ve bought blood at the ladder. ” She shone her mild directly up. “Can’t see something above me—if he’s caught someplace up there, he has to be close to the pinnacle.