FLASH IN:
[EXT. VARIOUS LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) -- NIGHT]
[CU: CLOCK]
(The time clock reads midnight. Vasco Ruiz punches out. He takes his name tag
off and puts it in his pocket and walks through the hallway.)
[INT. GOLDEN SAPPHIRE -- GARAGE – CORRIDOR -- NIGHT]
(Vasco Ruiz takes out his cell phone and dials.)
VASCO RUIZ: (to phone) Hola, cariño. Todo bien? Estan mis bebes durmiendo
como bebes?
(He continues walking through the corridor and heads for the garage. He passes
by a man dressed for work walking in the opposite direction.)
VASCO RUIZ: (to phone) Sí, ya se, ya se. No me reganes mas. Sí, sí. Comida
para el bebe. Sí, pan, leche. Mira, cariño, ahorita vengo.
(He reaches the garage and continues walking. A car slowly drives down the
ramp. He doesn’t pay any attention to it.)
VASCO RUIZ: (to phone) Te quiero.
(He hangs up with a smile on his face. He kisses the phone, folds it and
continues walking through the dark garage.)
(Vasco Ruiz walks down the ramp and passes by a drunk singing in the dark.)
DRUNK: (singing) Danke schoen / Oh, darling / danke schoen / danke schoen, oh,
darling / danke schoen / thank you for all the joy and pain ...
(He continues through the garage.)
(A figure moves swiftly across the camera and disappears back into the
darkness.)
(Vasco Ruiz continues walking. The drunk’s singing fades into the background.
Vasco has his keys in his hand. He turns when he hears clanking behind him.)
(He continues walking.)
(Suddenly, a masked figure runs up to him from behind, grabs him and punches him
hard. Vasco drops his phone and falls to the ground. The masked figure
continues to punch and beat up Vasco.)
(As the beatings continue, we hold on the photo image of Vasco and his wife
Lucita on the phone.)
FLASH TO:
[INT. GOLDEN SAPPHIRE HOTEL – GARAGE -- NIGHT]
(Grissom and Catherine shine their flashlights on Vasco Ruiz’s body. His face
is bloody.)
(Brass walks up to them carrying an ID badge.)
BRASS: The vic had nothing on him but his casino ID. Name is Vasco Ruiz. He's
a dishwasher here at the Golden Sapphire.
(Grissom snaps photos. Catherine kneels down next to the body.)
BRASS: My guess he got off his shift, went to his car, got whacked.
CATHERINE: By what?
BRASS: A blender?
(Grissom snaps more photos.)
GRISSOM: Surveillance?
BRASS: Not in the employee structure.
GRISSOM: Witnesses?
BRASS: Well, we found a Wayne Newton impersonator, but all I could get him to
do was sing a few bars of "Danke Schoen". But no wallet no cash, no cell phone,
no car keys. Smells like a robbery.
CATHERINE: Maybe it was his payday.
GRISSOM: Even if this guy was walking out of here with a million dollars ...
this is way more than excessive.
CATHERINE: Personal.
BRASS: Yeah, I'm gonna go get personal with his boss. See what he knows.
(Brass hands the phone to Catherine. He turns and leaves the area.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. MOTEL -- NIGHT]
(A young woman steps out of her motel room and starts walking across the dark
parking lot. She’s alone and dressed to have a night out on the town. In her
hands, she has her drink and her bag.)
(She reaches the end of the parking lot and sees the strip off in the distance
several blocks away from her. She smiles, takes a sip of her drink, and starts
walking.)
[EXT. SIDEWALK – NIGHT – CONTINUOUS]
(A man rides past her on a bike. He rings the bike bell. The young woman
continues walking down the sidewalk. Sirens wail in the distance.)
(She turns the corner and walks through an unlit parking area.)
(She takes out a small pocket mirror and checks her lipstick. She turns the
mirror and sees a hooded figure standing behind her.)
(She puts the mirror down and finds a hooded figure standing in front of her.)
(She screams.)
FADE TO
END OF TEASER
ROLL TITLE CREDITS
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) – NIGHT]
[INT. GOLDEN SAPPHIRE HOTEL – GARAGE -- NIGHT]
(The area in the parking garage is taped off. Grissom walks down the aisles
looking for evidence. He stops and finds a set of keys near a side pillar. He
picks it up and looks at it.)
(Grissom looks around the area at a car parked nearby. He gets up and walks
over to the parked car. He tries the key and opens the door. He kneels down
and sees two dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. On the dice are pictures
of Vasco Ruiz’s two kids, one on each fuzzy block.)
(He looks around the car.)
(In the background, Grissom hears dispatch over the police radio. He looks up
and sees the police scrambling for their cars. The next call is only a few
blocks away from their present location.)
DISPATCH: (muffled)
OFFICER: Got a 4-15, we gotta go.
(Grissom stands up. The police officers start their car engines, turn their
sirens on and head up the parking garage ramp.)
(Grissom goes back to looking at the car.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) – NIGHT]
(Sirens wail in the distance.)
[EXT. PARKING LOT – NIGHT]
(Jessica is wheeled out on a gurney, her head in a brace. She is badly beaten
and bruised.)
(The gurney passes Warrick and Brass on their way in.)
WARRICK: (to Brass) You got a name?
BRASS: She's not talking.
WARRICK: What about ID?
BRASS: He must've taken her wallet.
WARRICK: Cell phone?
BRASS: It's not here; they took it. Somebody had to see something.
(Brass walks away. Warrick reaches Nick at the site.)
WARRICK: Hey.
NICK: Hi.
(Warrick looks at her things on the ground, most stained with blood.)
WARRICK: Well, we got a souvenir cup that screams "tourist."
NICK: (nods) Yep.
WARRICK: I don't see a bar anywhere around here. She must've been either going
to or coming from the strip.
(Nick looks around the area. It’s isolated, dark and dangerous-looking.)
NICK: But she shouldn't have been walking around here, Warrick. Couldn't pick
a shadier part of town, man.
WARRICK: You know these tourists don't know what they're getting when they book
a trip to Vegas online.
(Warrick kneels down and looks around.)
WARRICK: They think "I got a room on the strip for 75 bucks. Whoo, what a
deal."
NICK: Then they mosey through the naked city with their thousand dollar
cameras.
(Warrick nods.)
NICK: Next thing you know, we're taking their picture.
WARRICK: You know what? Grissom's crime scene is just five blocks from here.
Both victims had their wallets and their cell phones stolen. And they were both
beaten down in the same way.
NICK: Looks like someone's on a little crime spree.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI – FORENSIC AUTOPSY -- NIGHT]
(David Phillips washes down the victim’s head as Catherine watches.)
CATHERINE: Uh, David, hang on.
(She stops David. She finds a piece of toenail in the victim’s mouth and
removes it. She holds it up.)
DAVID: Looks like a woman's toenail.
CATHERINE: Well, it's not necessarily a woman's.
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL – ROOM -- NIGHT]
(In the hospital room, Sara snaps photos of Jessica’s cuts and bruises. Jessica
is in a neck brace. She flinches from the camera flashes.)
(Sara moves in closer and snaps more photos.)
(Sara sets the camera down, then picks up forceps and a bindle.)
SARA: Jessica ... this might hurt a little bit, but it's going to help us get
the people who did this to you.
(Sara picks off trace she finds on Jessica’s facial cuts and puts it in the
bindle. Jessica flinches and groans.)
SARA: I'm sorry. Thank you.
(Sara sets the bindle aside and picks up the camera again.)
SARA: Do you have any other injuries?
JESSICA HERSHBAUM: Yeah. On my left side. Ow.
(Jessica rolls over on her side, her back to Sara. Sara leans in and looks.)
SARA: Could you lift your left arm for me, please?
(With a lot of pain and difficulty, Jessica raises her arm. She cries from the
effort. Sara snaps a photo of the bruised indention on her side. It’s in the
shape of an “F.”)
SARA: Thank you.
(Sara steps away. Jessica lowers her arm and rolls back.)
JESSICA HERSHBAUM: I just got out of a ten-year relationship. So I decided to
take a solo trip to Vegas. You know, try the whole "What happens in Vegas,
stays in Vegas."
(Sara picks more trace out of Jessica’s facial cuts and places it in a bindle.)
SARA: Been there.
JESSICA HERSHBAUM: Yeah, well, I get to take this face back with me.
(Jessica cries. Sara picks up a pen to mark the bindle.)
JESSICA HERSHBAUM: Well, did anybody else get hurt?
SARA: Why do you ask?
JESSICA HERSHBAUM: I heard them say that I was number two. Was there a number
one?
SARA: There was.
JESSICA HERSHBAUM: How are they doing?
SARA: He died.
CUT TO:
[EXT. ALLEYWAY -- NIGHT]
(The pack of hooded people moves swiftly through the dark alleyway. Someone
violently kicks something in their way and laughs.)
(The pack continues on.)
FADE OUT.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN:
[INT. CSI – LAB -- NIGHT]
(Catherine is marking the various shoe prints on the victim’s shirt. She sticks
a sticker next to each print as she identifies it.)
(Greg walks in. He’s dressed in a suit and looking snazzy. There’s a gait in
his step and his spirits are up. Catherine looks up and he poses for her,
turning this way and that to show off his threads.)
CATHERINE: All right, slick. Now what's with the suit?
GREG: (proudly) Today was my first jury trial.
CATHERINE: Today ended ... (she checks her watch) ... an hour and a half ago.
GREG: Well, maybe I just don't want the day to end.
CATHERINE: Well, if that's the case, why don't you help my day end quicker and
help me isolate some shoe treads. (She tosses the roll of stickers to him. He
catches it.) Take the pants.
(Greg walks around the table and grabs some latex gloves from the box. He puts
them on.)
CATHERINE: So ... ? How'd you do on the stand?
GREG: So good the prosecutor took me to dinner.
CATHERINE: Female?
GREG: Yeah, she was icing. (Greg puts a sticker on the pants near a shoe
print.) I was just happy to finally see a case from the crime scene to the
courtroom. We freakin' buried the guy. It was bad ass. I dropped the hammer
... he was squirming in his chair.
CATHERINE: How many different patterns you have there?
GREG: Five different patterns.
(Greg walks around the table and moves the pants closer to Catherine’s shirt so
she can see and compare the patterns herself.)
CATHERINE: Well, I've got three different ones on the t-shirt.
(She points out the different shoe patterns.)
CATHERINE: I mean, this one that looks like an athletic shoe sure got around.
As did this pointed toe high-heeled one. Check out the heel mark.
GREG: So did this work boot.
CATHERINE: (teases) What do you know about work boots? I'm guessing you
haven't worked a day of hard labor in your life.
GREG: I wore Doc Martens in high school. It was the style.
CATHERINE: Yeah, for skinheads.
GREG: Yeah, they kind of ruined it for everyone.
CATHERINE: You know, one of the victims was Hispanic, the other was Jewish.
Maybe this was a hate crime.
(Greg picks up a photo of the victim’s bashed-in face.)
GREG: Sure looks like hate to me.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI – FORENSIC AUTOPSY -- NIGHT]
(Robbins looks at the body as he shares his findings with Grissom. Grissom
writes on the clipboard.)
ROBBINS: Vasco Ruiz was someone's punching bag. He suffered multiple
abrasions, lacerations, contusions. I found no particular patterns, sharp edges
or tool marks from any weapons.
GRISSOM: Do fists and feet count?
ROBBINS: He had too many bruises to count, one on top of another. And under
the skin, things get even worse.
INSERT: CSI ENHANCEMENT
(Camera zooms in to the bones in the victim’s hands. As Robbins speaks, the
bones snap and break.)
ROBBINS: Long bone fractures of the fingers, radius, ulna, humerus.
(Camera zooms in to the chest cavity. The bones break there as well.)
ROBBINS: (v.o.) Rib fractures, flail chest. Fractures of the vault and base
of skull. Almost every bone in his face.
(The skull bones break as well.)
BACK TO SCENE.
ROBBINS: Somewhere along the way, he took a shot to the head that resulted in a
subdural hematoma. COD is multiple blunt force trauma.
GRISSOM: Could one person have done this?
ROBBINS: (shakes his head and sighs) Not even Mike Tyson.
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) – NIGHT]
[INT. LIQUOR STORE -- NIGHT]
(The liquor store owner rattles off the damage to Sofia.)
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: (rambles quickly) Okay, okay, okay, they took my good
vodkas, my single-malt whiskies, they took vermouth, cognac, VSOP cognac. Am I
going to get any of the stuff back? What are you guys going to do about this?
SOFIA: Okay, slow down. You're talking too fast.
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: All right, you know what? Just let me know when you're
ready.
SOFIA: I'm ready, sir, I just, I just need you to talk slower.
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: Okay, I can do that. These creeps come flying in here --
they take a lot of my good stuff. And I chased one of them and I snatched the
sweater right off his back.
SOFIA: How many did you see?
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: I don't know. There was a bunch.
SOFIA: A bunch. Two? Five? Ten?
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: Closer to the ten.
SOFIA: Any descriptions?
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: They had hoods on. They were hooded.
SOFIA: You took the sweater off one of them and you didn't get to see what he
looked like?
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: He was on his way out the door. What I did see was really
weird. Anyway.
SOFIA: What does "weird" look like?
LIQUOR STORE OWNER: I don't know. His face. His nose was all deformed. The
whole thing creeped me out.
SOFIA: Thank you.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI – HALLWAY -- NIGHT]
(Greg walks through the hallway. He passes a tech, who smiles and high-fives
him.)
TECH: Way to go.
GREG: Thank you.
(Greg continues down the hallway. Grissom steps out of his office, his face
buried in the clipboard he’s writing on.)
GRISSOM: Greg ... lose the monkey suit, you got a scene; liquor store robbery.
Here's the address.
(Greg takes the slip of paper from Grissom.)
GREG: Related to the earlier 415s?
GRISSOM: Could be -- Sofia's got one of the suspect's sweaters. I need you to
seal it, bring it back here and anything you can find.
GREG: All right. Who's my wingman?
GRISSOM: You're a big boy, Greg. You don't need a wingman for this.
(Grissom turns and leaves.)
GREG: Primary. (smiles) Nice.
(Greg heads out.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI – LAB -- NIGHT]
(Sara dips the toe of her shoe in a pan of dark-colored dirt. She kicks the
dummy on the ground. The dummy’s wearing a white jumpsuit.)
(With her back to the doorway, Sara kicks the dummy again and again.)
(She moves the dummy to get a bigger area to kick. She pulls back and kicks
again and again.)
(She dips the toe of her shoe in the pan of dirt again. She continues to kick
the crap out of the white-suited dummy on the ground.)
(Grissom walks in from the hallway and watches her. Sara pulls back and kicks
the dummy hard.)
GRISSOM: Whoa! Pick on somebody you're own size.
(Sara turns around and looks at Grissom.)
SARA: Are you volunteering?
(Grissom looks at Sara. He raises his eyebrow at her.)
GRISSOM: No.
(Sara wipes her forehead with the towel. She points to the two dummies wearing
the victim’s clothes.)
SARA: The two scenes are related. I found two common treads on both vics: an
athletic shoe and a boot. I ran them through the SoleMate database. The
athletic shoe ... is a converse Chuck Taylor and the boot is a Doc Marten.
(She shows Grissom the printouts.)
(Grissom looks at the shoe prints on the shirt.)
GRISSOM: Could this be a woman's shoe?
SARA: Yeah, I ran that through the SoleMate database, too. That is a Steve
Madden Dynasti Stiletto. Open-toe shoe.
GRISSOM: 'Cause Catherine found a broken female toenail in the vic's mouth.
INSERT: FLASHBACK
(A woman grunts as she kicks the victim in the mouth. Blood spatters into the
air.)
BACK TO SCENE.
SARA: Most of the treads are on the sides and back of the victim's clothing.
GRISSOM: Which suggests that they were on the ground for most of the beating.
SARA: Kicked to death.
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – HALLWAY / WAITING ROOM -- NIGHT]
(An officer is outside with Vasco Ruiz’s two boys. In the waiting room, Brass
talks with Lucita Ruiz, Vasco’s wife.)
LUCITA RUIZ: How am I going to feed my boys?! Pay the rent, gas, car? God ...
BRASS: Mrs. Ruiz, I'll do the best I can. I'll put you in touch with state
services that'll help you deal with these issues, okay? But right now I need
your help to do my job. I need some information, okay?
LUCITA RUIZ: (nods) Whatever you need.
BRASS: All right. When was the last time you talked to Vasco?
LUCITA RUIZ: Midnight. He calls me every night after work.
BRASS: Did he have any enemies that you know of?
LUCITA RUIZ: No. He was a good man with a good heart. No one disliked him.
BRASS: Okay. Did he carry a wallet or a cell phone?
LUCITA RUIZ: He had both.
BRASS: I want you to write down his cell phone number on this piece of paper,
okay? I need to access his records.
(He slides the pen and paper to her. She writes it down.)
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – HALLWAY – NIGHT – CONTINUOUS]
(The door opens and Brass walks over to the two boys. He kneels down in front
of them.)
BRASS: Hey, guys, this officer's going to take you and your mom home, make sure
you all get home safe, okay?
LUCITA RUIZ: Thank you.
(Brass walks away and leaves the Ruizes with the officer. Brass continues and
steps into the lobby area. He turns and watches the report on television.)
REPORTER: (from tv) I'm standing across from the Holiday Motel where a brutal
beating just occurred a few hours ago. We have the footage which was recorded
by an anonymous bystander's cell phone.
(Brass turns and takes interest in the news report.)
REPORTER: (from tv) Although the quality is poor, you can see several images
assaulting the lone female victim. Anyone living near the strip is being told
to stay at home until the assailant is caught. For anyone who has any
information, please call 555-0155.
(Brass turns to the officers standing nearby.)
BRASS: Get this reporter on the phone.
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) – NIGHT]
[INT. SUV (MOVING) -- NIGHT]
(Greg is driving on the road, making his way to the liquor store to pick up the
sweater from Sofia. As he drives, he hears sounds of people grunting and
yelling.)
(He turns and sees an attack at the far end of an alleyway. Greg stops and
reverses.)
(Sure enough, there is a group of about a dozen individuals beating up a man on
the ground.)
(Greg stops and calls it in on his radio.)
GREG: (to radio) Control, control, this is CSI Sanders. I need some help.
CONTROL: (from radio) Control, go with your information.
GREG: (to radio) Okay, I got an assault in progress one alley south of Casino
Central Drive, cross street Shane.
CONTROL: (from radio) How many suspects involved?
GREG: (to radio) Multiple suspects. Could be the guys who've been doing it
all night.
CONTROL: (from radio) The closest unit has a five-minute ETA. Rolling code
three. Are they armed?
(As Greg watches, the group continues to kick and beat up on the man on the
ground.)
GREG: (to radio) I don't know. I don't know. Ma'am, please, listen. You got
to get here quicker than this.
DISPATCH: (from radio) Copy that. We'll roll two additional units ASAP. Wait
for backup.
(Greg watches the group in the alleyway. Five minutes seems too long. The man
might not survive. Making a decision, Greg puts his SUV in gear and heads into
the alley.)
(With headlights on and lights flashing, Greg beeps his horn, trying to disrupt
the gang.)
(The gang continues to kick and beat up the man on the ground.)
GREG: Move!
(The beating continues. Greg beeps his car horn and flashes the siren. Several
people in the group turn and notice the vehicle. They disband and run, leaving
a single person behind who continues kicking the man on the ground.)
GREG: (shouts) Get out of here!
(The single person continues to kick and beat the man on the ground. Greg
drives up close enough and stops. He honks the horn, but the person continues
kicking the man.)
(Then, the man turns around and looks at Greg. His eyes glow eerily and
unnaturally in the shine of the car headlights.)
(Greg doesn’t move.)
(The man runs to the side and picks up a large rock. He motions as if to bash
the victim’s head, then turns and starts running toward Greg.)
(Greg watches for a moment, then presses the gas. The SUV lunges forward and
hits the hooded man. He falls to the ground.)
(Greg remains inside. He looks around. It’s very quiet.)
SMASH!
(The back door glass smashes into pieces. Greg whirls around to see what’s
going on.)
CRASH!
(Greg ducks as the driver’s side glass window is smashed into pieces.)
(Someone from outside reaches in through the window and pulls Greg out of the
SUV.)
(Greg struggles. The rest of the gang returns. They take up where they left
off ... this time with Greg as their victim.)
(They turn on him, kicking and beating him up. Greg tries to stay on his feet.
They push him into the nearby chain-linked fence, laughing as they kick and
punch him in the back.)
(They pull him away from the fence and toss him back to the center of the
alleyway. Greg lands on his hands and knees. He tries to get up and crawl
away, but they keep kicking and punching him in the back.)
(Finally, Greg collapses on the cold ground.)
(They kick him over onto his back ... and they continue beating, kicking and
punching him.)
(Greg is senseless, barely taking in anything anymore. His vision’s blurred;
sounds of his attackers’ laughter echo around him. The kicks and punches don’t
stop.)
(One of the attackers spits on Greg’s vest. He steps over Greg and walks away.
Greg reaches up and grabs the attacker’s ankle as he leaves.)
(Face bloodied, Greg opens his eyes and watches as the car leaving scratches
against his SUV.)
(We hold on Greg.)
FADE OUT.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN:
[INT. ALLEYWAY -- MORNING]
(A group of observers has gathered at the taped-off entry to the alley. Sofia
talks with a hysterical Marla James, Demetrius’ mother.)
MARLA JAMES: Please let me see Demetrius. I just want to talk to him.
SOFIA: I'm sorry. It's a crime scene. I can't let you pass. I'm sorry.
MARLA JAMES: (o.s.) He's not dead, is he?
(Sara runs up to the tape.)
SOFIA: He's been badly injured, but he's being attended to, I promise you.
(The officers lift the tape for Sara. She rushes past Sofia, who walks with her
to the scene.)
SOFIA: Hey.
SARA: Hey.
(Sara sees three bodies on the alley floor. Medics attend to the beaten visitor
and the attacker. Greg is unattended in the center.)
SARA: Why isn't there a medic on Greg?
SOFIA: He's been stabilized. Sara, he's going to be okay.
(Sofia walks away. Sara walks over to Greg and kneels next to him. Greg’s eyes
are closed.)
(Sara puts a hand on Greg’s hair, lightly stroking, offering what little comfort
she can.)
GREG: (faintly) Sara ...
SARA: I didn't think you could see me.
GREG: I can't ... but I know that Sidle scent.
SARA: I'm going to take that as a compliment.
(Sara looks up and turns away as she sniffles.)
GREG: (rasps) I scratched one of them.
(Sara takes Greg’s hand with hers, careful to avoid touching his fingernails.)
GREG: And you should check my vest. I think the same guy s-spit on me.
(Sara doesn’t say anything.)
GREG: And one of their cars crashed into the Denali. I guarantee there's
transfer on it.
(Sara doesn’t move. She continues to stroke Greg’s hair.)
GREG: You should process the scene now. Me later.
SARA: I came here for you, Greg.
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL – ROOM -- DAY]
(Stanley Tanner’s leg is in a cast. His arm is in a cast and his face is
bruised and beaten. Brass talks with him.)
BRASS: So how long you been in town, Mr. Tanner?
STANLEY TANNER: About twenty hours, man.
BRASS: You on vacation?
STANLEY TANNER: Straight from Union City, Tennessee.
BRASS: Okay, tell me what happened.
STANLEY TANNER: Well, I was cutting through that alley trying to find a taxi
off one of them side streets. Next thing I know I'm on the ground just getting
pounded all to hell. I thought I was gonna die. Even give it up to the man.
Then I heard that horn honking and engine revving toward me.
(He fades out and smiles at the thought.)
BRASS: Can you give me any descriptions?
(Stanley shakes his head, no.)
BRASS: Okay. All right. You take it easy.
STANLEY TANNER: Could you do me a favor?
BRASS: Sure, I'll do my best.
STANLEY TANNER: The man that saved my life, I'd like to meet him, give him a
thank you.
BRASS: His name is Greg Sanders. And I'm sure he'd appreciate it. I'll tell
him.
CUT TO:
[EXT. ALLEYWAY -- DAY]
(Nick scrapes red paint transfer off of Greg’s dark-colored Denali. He’s quiet
and disturbed by the scene.)
(Warrick snaps photos of the blood on the ground. He even snaps a photo of a
small tuft of brown hair.)
WARRICK: I think I just found a piece of Sanders' hair.
(Cole Tritt, standing at the tape line, shouts to the CSIs inside.)
COLE TRITT: So what, did somebody else get a beat down?
(Nick turns to see the man standing outside the crime scene tape.)
COLE TRITT: You bitches haven't caught them cats yet?
NICK: Excuse me?
WARRICK: You fellas want to keep it moving? We're trying to work here.
KID 2: You call that working? Why is there an ass-whupping on every other
block?
(Nick stands up.)
NICK: There's about to be an ass-whupping on this block.
KID 2: Is that right?
NICK: That's right.
WARRICK: Hey, Nick ...
COLE TRITT: Man, you're weak, weak, weak, weak.
(The officer grabs kid 2 and pushes him up against the wall. Nick makes his way
toward Cole Tritt.)
OFFICER: Come on, man.
KID 2: You can't do this. I'll say what I want.
(Cole Tritt holds his hands up in surrender.)
COLE TRITT: I’m sorry. You're not weak.
(Warrick is picking up something when he notices Nick heading toward Cole
Tritt.)
WARRICK: (warns) Nick.
(Nick stops in front of Cole Tritt.)
WARRICK: Nick ...
COLE TRITT: You're a joke.
(Nick turns around and smiles at Warrick. Warrick shakes his head, no.)
(Nick turns and punches Cole Tritt in the stomach. The crowd reacts. Nick
pulls back his fist and Warrick grabs his arm in a lock. He turns and pushes
Nick toward the SUV.)
WARRICK: Nick. Come on!
COLE TRITT: (to the crowd) Anybody get that on video? Man, I'll take a
picture myself.
(Cole Tritt takes out his phone. Warrick walks up to him and grabs the phone
from him. He looks at it.)
WARRICK: That's a nice phone you got there, man. Real nice phone. Wonder how
many drug dealers' numbers you got on this phone here.
(Warrick ducks under the crime scene tape and gets in Cole Tritt’s face.)
WARRICK: Feel like going to jail tonight? Listen, I'm sorry about the little
spill you had earlier, but that's why we got the crime tape up, so you could see
it. Watch where you're going next time. (Warrick pushes him away.) Get you
home safely.
(Warrick ducks back under the tape and heads over to Nick.)
WARRICK: What are you doing? We beating people up now?
NICK: I'm sick of these punks, man. I'm serious, I'm sick of it.
WARRICK: Then you're in the wrong town.
NICK: Maybe.
(Nick pushes past Warrick and heads off screen.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL – GREG’S ROOM -- DAY]
(Grissom walks into the room and stops at the foot of Greg’s bed. Greg’s eyes
are closed.)
GRISSOM: Greg?
(Greg’s one good left eye flutters open.)
GREG: Grissom.
GRISSOM: Just another day at the office, huh?
GREG: Well, at least I can see now. The guy they beat up ... how is he?
GRISSOM: He's gonna be fine.
GREG: What about the other guy? The guy I hit.
GRISSOM: His name is Demitrius James. He's in surgery.
GREG: Is he, like, a gangbanger or something?
GRISSOM: Actually ... he's a student at the university.
GREG: He gonna be okay?
GRISSOM: I don't know.
(Greg turns away and sighs.)
GRISSOM: Has someone called your parents? We should let them know.
GREG: Mmph.
GRISSOM: What's the matter?
GREG: They still think I'm in the lab.
GRISSOM: (confused) Why do they think that?
GREG: When I was in high school ... I never played any sports. No football, no
basketball. Definitely no hockey.
GRISSOM: I never would've guessed.
GREG: Well, it wasn't by choice. My mom wanted four kids. Ended up with only
one. She always made sure I stayed close. If I got a nosebleed, she'd take me
to the ER.
GRISSOM: Well ... now would be the time to come clean.
GREG: (upset) My mom's gonna freak.
GRISSOM: You tell her that you risked your life to save someone else's ... and
I think she'll be very proud of you.
(Greg cries quietly.)
[INT. HOSPITAL – HALLWAY – DAY -- CONTINUOUS]
(Grissom steps out of the room and walks down the hallway. Sara turns the
corner.)
SARA: Hey.
(She heads toward him.)
SARA: Doctor found these on Demitrius James.
(She shows him a container. He takes it and looks at it. There is a pair of
contact lenses inside.)
GRISSOM: Contact lenses?
SARA: Special kind. They're called Halloween lenses. They're wearing
costumes.
GRISSOM: Great. Just a game to them.
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) – DAY]
[INT. CSI -- DAY]
(The fax machine prints out a sheet. Catherine looks at it. It reads:
TEL NEVADA
CELLULAR PHONE RECORD
VASCO RUIZ
702-555-0102
(She looks at the numbers.)
CATHERINE: (v.o.) Is that your number, Cha Cha?
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – INTERVIEW ROOM -- DAY]
(Catherine interviews Cha Cha Romero.)
CHA CHA ROMERO: Yeah, that's my number.
CATHERINE: So tell me ... what does a dead guy sound like?
(Catherine puts the post-mortem photo of Vasco Ruiz on the table. Cha Cha
Romero looks at it and laughs.)
CATHERINE: Oh, is that funny?
CHA CHA ROMERO: Oh, man, I mean, isn't it supposed to be?
CATHERINE: Someone called you from his phone-- who was it?
CHA CHA ROMERO: When'd they call again?
CATHERINE: 12:33 A.M., last night.
CHA CHA ROMERO: Man, you know how many people blow me up at that time? Shoot,
that's like prime time. Finding-the-right-party time. Half my calls go to
voice mail my line's so busy.
CATHERINE: Who's this guy?
(Catherine flips through the photos and shows her a picture of Demetrius James.)
CHA CHA ROMERO: (sighs & shrugs) M-maybe I seen him before, I don't know.
(She reaches down and picks up her bag. She puts it on the table. Catherine
notices the large “F” insignia on the bag flap. She unzips the bag.)
(Catherine looks at the photo of the large “F” shaped bruise taken from Jessica
after her beating.)
INSERT: FLASHBACK
(The gang punches and hits their victim. Cha Cha swings her bag and hits the
victim.)
BACK TO SCENE.
CATHERINE: Farami, huh?
CHA CHA ROMERO: Yeah. You like?
CATHERINE: If it was real, I might.
CHA CHA ROMERO: Whatever. (She stands up and walks over to the door.) Can I
go now?
(Catherine shows her a photo of Jessica.)
CATHERINE: When I swab that knockoff Farami buckle and I find this tourist's
DNA on it, you're going down for murder.
CHA CHA ROMERO: (scoffs) She didn't die.
CATHERINE: No, but Mr. Ruiz did. And you were the last person that he called.
That connects you to both crimes.
CHA CHA ROMERO: (sighs) Tara, okay? Tara called me. It's funny, 'cause the
only reason I picked up my phone is 'cause I didn't know the number. (She sits
back down.) Thought it was this hot boy.
CATHERINE: And what did Tara want?
CHA CHA ROMERO: Her boyfriend Pig invited her to a party at a motel. She
invited me, so I rolled.
(Quick flashback to: The group beats up a tourist in the parking lot. Tara and
Cha Cha step into camera frame.)
TARA MILLER: Go get a piece. It's fun.
(Tara puts her hood on and heads for the group. After a beat, Cha Cha puts her
hood on and joins them.)
(End of flashback.)
CATHERINE: Is that your idea of a party?
CHA CHA ROMERO: Man, everyone loves a good fannysmackin' session.
CATHERINE: A what?
CHA CHA ROMERO: Beating up fannypackers. You know, tourists.
CATHERINE: Why would you want to do that?
CHA CHA ROMERO: (shrugs) Nothing else to do.
CATHERINE: And you do this all the time?
CHA CHA ROMERO: Yeah, but this was the first time I ever heard of anyone
dying.
CATHERINE: What is Pig's name?
CHA CHA ROMERO: I just know "Pig."
CATHERINE: So if ... fannysmackin' is all about tourists, why'd you go after a
dishwasher at the Golden Sapphire?
CHA CHA ROMERO: I don't know. Maybe he was just practice.
(Catherine looks absolutely speechless.)
FADE OUT.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – HALLWAY -- DAY]
(Sofia meets up with Brass.)
BRASS: So, you think we’re out of the woods yet?
(She looks at her watch.)
SOFIA: Well, the beatings were occurring every half hour, and it's been three
hours since the last one, so maybe.
(In the background, they hear voices rise from a commotion at reception. They
head over.)
OFFICER: You need to sign in.
DEAN HARDEN: Do I look like I want to sign in? I want to talk to a cop, okay?
(shouts) Somebody get me a cop! I want to talk to a cop now!
(Brass and Sofia turn the corner.)
SOFIA: (points to Brass) He's a cop.
BRASS: (points to Sofia) She's a cop.
(Dean Harden and Anthony Himmer walk over to Sofia and Brass. Anthony points to
Dean’s beaten face.)
ANTHONY HIMMER: Hey, my friend, he got beat up and robbed.
BRASS: I can see that.
SOFIA: Where?
DEAN HARDEN: On the corner of Decatur and Jones. They-they took the ten g's
that I had on me, they took my watch, they took my cell phone.
ANTHONY HIMMER: And look at his face. They beat him up, too.
BRASS: Did you get a good look at 'em?
DEAN HARDEN: Not really -- they were wearing hoodies.
(Brass and Sofia look at each other.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. MILLER RESIDENCE -- DAY]
(The door opens. Tara Miller, escorted by two officers, walks out of the
residence. Her hands are cuffed behind her back. She’s got a large bandage on
her left big toe.)
(They put her in the back of the officer car.)
(Nick exits the residence carrying a couple of bags of evidence. He walks past
a red car and stops to look at the scratch on its side. He turns and looks at
Tara in the back seat of the officer car. She’s watching him.)
(Nick puts the packages down and opens the car door. He crawls inside and opens
the glove compartment. He opens the center armrest compartment and finds a
wallet and cell phone. He takes the wallet and cell phone out of the car and
shuts the door.)
(He opens the wallet and finds VASCO RUIZ’s driver’s license inside. Nick looks
at Tara. She knows she’s busted.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI – HALLWAY / LAYOUT ROOM -- DAY]
(Hodges walks through the hallway and finds Grissom in the layout room, various
items spread out on the table.)
HODGES: Processed the sweater found at the liquor store. Found blood.
(He shows the results to Grissom.)
HODGES: Sent it to DNA. Wendy found two types, matched both to your vics. She
also ran saliva on Greg's jacket. Came back unknown male. Same unknown male
that Greg scratched.
(Finished, Hodges puts the results back in the folder and looks at the map and
various evidence out on the table.)
HODGES: Nice map.
GRISSOM: What do you see?
HODGES: My old neighborhood. What do you see?
GRISSOM: Inconsistency.
HODGES: In what?
GRISSOM: The dishwasher, both tourists and Greg were attacked near the strip.
Dean Harden claims that he was attacked all the way over here in southwest Las
Vegas. Swarms don't backtrack.
HODGES: We're talking about humans here, not bugs.
GRISSOM: Humans have always adapted strategies from insects. Swarming is an
ancient military tactic. You surround your enemies, then attack from all
directions simultaneously. Alexander the Great pioneered the maneuver 2,000
years ago. Although swarms consist of several individuals, they must be treated
as a single entity, which lives, thinks and moves as one, built with an internal
logic to continue forward, gain momentum and never backtrack.
HODGES: So this guy Dean probably was not a victim of this swarm, or he's
lying.
GRISSOM: Take a look at these clothes.
(Grissom shows Hodges Dean Harden’s clothes.)
GRISSOM: In contrast to the other beatings, I found only one type of shoe tread
on Dean's clothing. The print matches a size 12 Nike Air. And this tennis shoe
is ... his own.
HODGES: He swarmed himself?
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – INTERVIEW ROOM -- DAY]
(Sofia talks with Dean Harden and Anthony Himmer.)
DEAN HARDEN: I owe my Uncle Lenny ten g's. And I don't got it, all right?
SOFIA: Am I supposed to know who Uncle Lenny is?
ANTHONY HIMMER: Uncle Lenny? Lenny G. The famous sports handicapper.
SOFIA: (interrupts) Yeah, it's not ringing any bells.
ANTHONY HIMMER: He's black-booked from the casinos.
DEAN HARDEN: But he still likes to bet.
SOFIA: And you bet for him.
DEAN HARDEN: Yeah, he gave me five dimes to bet the Eagles this past Sunday.
You see, me and Ant, we're hurting for cash right now.
ANTHONY HIMMER: We didn't think the Eagles had a chance, so we thought we would
just pocket the cash.
SOFIA: But they won and now you owe Uncle Lenny G. ten gs.
DEAN HARDEN: Yeah. And when we saw these beatings on TV and ... just thought it
was a great idea.
(Quick flashback to: [EXT – NIGHT] )
(Dean and Anthony discuss the beatings.)
DEAN HARDEN: Don't go near the package.
ANTHONY HIMMER: Why am I going to go near your package?
DEAN HARDEN: All right. All right.
ANTHONY HIMMER: It'll be like Pesci did it to De Niro in “Raging Bull.”
Remember that?
DEAN HARDEN: Yeah, all right, just do it, man, come on.
ANTHONY HIMMER: Okay.
DEAN HARDEN: All right, just do it, man!
ANTHONY HIMMER: I'm doing it!
(Anthony punches Dean in the face. Dean yells and groans. He starts crying
from the pain.)
ANTHONY HIMMER: What, are you crying?
DEAN HARDEN: Shut up, man! It's not funny, all right?!
(End of flashback.)
ANTHONY HIMMER: I figured if Dean said we got beat up and robbed, we wouldn't
have to pay up.
SOFIA: Yeah, well, now you're eleven g's in the hole. The ten thousand you owe
Uncle Lenny for the bet, and the thousand you owe us for filing a false police
report.
(Sofia turns and leaves the room. Dean shakes his head and exhales.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI – LAB -- DAY]
(Nick empties out handbag contents on the table. He picks up the cell phone and
checks the messages. There is one new text message.
CALLBACK #: 702-555-0165
MESSAGE: FROM PIGMAN. WHERE DA HELL U @
CALLBACK #: 702-555-0165
MESSAGE: U ROLLIN OUT TONIGHT
SENT ON: SEP 11, 06 8:58 PM
1 NEW TEXT MESSAGE
MESSAGE: PIGMAN: HEY Y’ALL. GOLDEN SAPPHIRE FANNYSMACKIN’ SESSION. 11.
MESSAGE SENT 9:33 PM
(Nick continues to check the messages when Catherine walks in.)
NICK: Hey, Catherine. I think I'm on to something. Check this out.
(Catherine takes a latex glove and uses it to hold the phone as she reads the
text message.)
CATHERINE: Oh ... the king swine.
NICK: Now, "y'all" is plural. Believe me, I used the word a lot, so I have a
feeling he sent that to more than one person.
CATHERINE: It could be a mass text. Lindsey once sent everyone in her
phonebook the same message at the same time. I got stuck with a $300 bill.
NICK: Hmm, we got this punk's phone number. All we have to do is subpoena his
phone records. We'll get every one he sent the message to. We'll text him,
we'll tell him to meet us somewhere.
CATHERINE: From Tara's phone? They'll know it's us.
NICK: No, from Pig's phone.
CATHERINE: We don't have Pig's phone.
NICK: Don't need it. When you text from a computer, you put in the number that
you're calling from. We'll just use Mister Piggy's.
CATHERINE: Okay, but how do we get the pig?
(Nick turns and looks at Catherine.)
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – INTERVIEW ROOM -- DAY]
(Brass talks with Tara Miller.
BRASS: Look, I'm not going to play you, Tara. So let's not waste each other's
time. I have enough evidence to try you for first-degree murder. But I'm
greedy. I want the rest of the Mickey Mouse Club. So you have a choice. You
can either spend a very, very long time in jail or you can help me out.
(Tara holds her wrists out for him to handcuff. She bobs her head from side to
side. Brass looks at her and bobs his head from side to side in the same
manner.)
TARA MILLER: I'm not saying nothing.
BRASS: You don't have to say anything.
(Brass slides a pad and pen toward her.)
BRASS: Write a text message. Something Pig would send to his buddies to gather
them all up for another fannysmackin' party. Look, Tara, I don't think that
beating these people up was your idea, so why should you and Cha Cha take the
fall? These guys don't care about you. I mean, let's face it. You're just a
piece of tail to them. Right? So what's it going to be? Are you going to let
a guy with the colorful but unfortunate name of "Pig" run free while you go to
jail? You know, it's funky in there. No Posh Spice. No parties, no purses or
pedicures or pasta primavera. So you decide. (firmly) Decide.
(She grabs the pen and starts writing.)
CUT TO:
[CU: MONITOR]
(The text messages are sent out. It reads:
From: 702-555-0165
Pigman: yo.
Fannysmakin’ championship .Round two. Meet @ 5 @ da spot.
PM
[INT. DA SPOT – NIGHT]
(A couple of guys wearing masks sit in their car. A second car pulls up along
side theirs.)
HOODED KID #1: Pig text you?
HOODED KID #2: (nods) Yeah.
(Several more cars pull into the warehouse and park.)
HOODED KID #3: Hey, Pig, thanks for that text. I'm ready for some smackin'.
“PIG”: I didn't text you.
HOODED KID #3: You didn't?
“PIG”: Nah. Did you text me.
HOODED KID #3: I didn't text you.
(Suddenly several officer cars pull into the warehouse, their sirens pulse on
and off, lights flashing.)
(Brass parks his car.)
(Sofia parks and gets out of her car, a shotgun in her hands. Nick parks and
gets out of his car, his gun out and leveled at the kids. More cars pull in,
surrounding the kids.)
BRASS: (over bullhorn) Everybody out of the car, now. Get out of the car.
(One-by-one, the kids get out of their cars.)
BRASS: (over bullhorn) Let's see those hands. Put them on the top of the car.
(The officers move forward.)
OFFICER: Put ‘em where I can see ‘em.
(Nick takes special notice of a kid who hasn’t moved from his car. Sofia heads
forward toward the car. She cocks her shotgun on her way to the car.)
SOFIA: Turn off the truck. Get out. And put your hands above your head.
(The kid doesn’t move.)
BRASS: (over bull horn) Get out of the car!
(“Pig” gets out of the car. The officer steps forward and slams him face-down
onto the hood of the car.)
SOFIA: You're going to jail.
(He looks at her.)
“PIG”: Free shower, free food, free sleep.
(“Pig” chuckles. Nick pushes his way toward “Pig.” He tucks his gun away.)
NICK: Let me in there.
(Nick pulls the mask off and finds it’s the guy from the alleyway crime scene.)
COLE TRITT (PIG): This little piggy went, "wee, wee, wee," all the way home.
(Nick knocks the cap off Cole’s head. Cole looks at Nick and snorts like a pig
as the officers pull him away.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL – GREG’S ROOM -- NIGHT]
(Greg is feeding himself. He lifts his head and through the glass window
between the two rooms, he sees Demetrius’ mother and brother standing over
Demetrius’ bed.)
(He hears voices and turns to find Nurse Lizzy pushing Stanley Tanner in a
wheelchair. They enter his room.)
NURSE LIZZY: I think this is the room, sir.
STANLEY TANNER: There he is. Mr. Sanders?
GREG: Hey. How you doing?
STANLEY TANNER: Better than dead. Get me over here, Lizzy, where I can shake
this man's hand.
(Lizzy pushes his wheelchair closer. Greg holds up his bandaged hand. Stanley
holds up his arm in a cast. It’s a little awkward, but Stanley grabs Greg’s
left hand with his right in a firm grip.)
STANLEY TANNER: You're a brave man. Thank you.
GREG: You're welcome.
STANLEY TANNER: (to the nurse) Home, Elizabeth.
NURSE LIZZY: Okay.
(Nurse Lizzy backs Stanley toward the door.)
STANLEY TANNER: I cook some mean barbeque, if you ever get yourself to Union
City, Tennessee.
GREG: I'll look you up.
STANLEY TANNER: You do that.
(In the next room, Marla James cries hysterically over her dead son’s body.
Greg turns and steps closer to the window. She drapes herself over her son and
sobs loudly.)
(Her other son Aaron stands helplessly on the side. He looks up and sees Greg
watching them. He glares at Greg. Greg looks down and steps away from the
window.)
(He continues to glare at Greg.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) – MORNING]
[INT. CSI – LOCKER ROOM -- MORNING]
(Sara removes the lock from her locker and opens it. She turns and addresses
Warrick, who is sitting on the locker bench, and Nick, who removes the cartridge
from his gun before tucking it back into his locker.)
SARA: I am going to pick up some Roberto's, take it over to Greg. I'm sure
he's sick of that hospital food -- anybody want to come?
WARRICK: I'll take a ride with you, but I'm going to pass on the Mexican food
at 10:00 in the morning.
NICK: (chuckles) No, I'd like to see Greg. I'm definitely in, yeah.
(Catherine walks in.)
CATHERINE: Pig and the piglets are in the pigpen.
WARRICK: It's about time. Finally, some good news.
CATHERINE: Did you know that Pig, aka Cole Tritt, was the only adult. The rest
of them were under 18. One was 14.
WARRICK: Are you kidding? Who raises these kids?
CATHERINE: I mean, they weren't all delinquents. Demitrius James was a college
student.
NICK: Hanging out with the wrong crowd in the wrong town. I'm telling you...
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – BOOKING – DAY]
(The kids are being processed. One is outside the holding cell while the others
wait inside, sitting on benches.)
NICK: (v.o.) ... a fake ID in Las Vegas is like having a free ticket on the
hell train. Sex, drugs, gambling, no adult supervision, 24/7.
(The officer grabs the next kid and lead him to the holding cell door.)
NICK: (v.o.) By the time they're 21, they've done and seen it all.
BACK TO SCENE.
(Catherine looks shocked by their assessment of today’s young people.)
CATHERINE: Make me slit my wrists, why don't you? I'm raising a teenager here.
WARRICK: Oh, you're doing a great job. Lindsey's gonna turn out to be a
beautiful young woman. Besides, I grew up in Vegas. I didn't turn out so bad,
did I?
NICK: Yeah, that was pre-Mirage, back when you were a little squirt going to
the casino playing the arcade games.
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – BOOKING – DAY]
(Camera moves down the line of bored kids sitting on the benches inside holding
cells as they wait to be processed. There’s no fear on their faces. No
remorse. Nothing.)
NICK: (v.o.) No, Vegas is a different animal now.
WARRICK: (v.o.) Yeah, these kids need to beat people on the street to be
entertained. They just need some good discipline.
BACK TO SCENE
(Sara finishes and turns to listen. Warrick tucks his things in his pockets as
he smiles at Nick.)
WARRICK: They need their grandmother whupping their ass like, like I had.
NICK: (nods) Yeah, a good slap.
SARA: You know, it kind of sounds like you guys are blaming everybody but these
kids. I mean, you don't get a bye just 'cause you grew up here or your parents
are on drugs. Those kids are perfectly capable of telling the difference
between a wild night out and ... beating somebody to death.
GRISSOM: (o.s.) The truth is ...
(Grissom, who has been unnoticed in the room all this time, shuts his locker
closed. He has everyone’s attention.)
GRISSOM: ... a moral compass can only point you in the right direction, can't
make you go there. Our culture preaches that, uh, you shouldn't be ashamed of
anything you do anymore.
INSERT: VARIOUS FLASHES OF THE KIDS HAVING THEIR MUG SHOTS TAKEN.
GRISSOM: (v.o.) And unfortunately, this city was built on the principle that
there's no such thing as guilt. "Do whatever you want; we won't tell." So
without a conscience, there's nothing to stop you from killing someone. And
evidently, ...
BACK TO SCENE.
GRISSOM: ... you don't even have to feel bad about it.
FLASH TO BLACK.
THE END
