Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters.


Gil Grissom sat in a small diner in the downtown area. Things had been quiet for Gil and his team, no major investigations, no criminal masterminds to deal with, and the break was greatly appreciated. In fact, Gil felt like a new man! He sat in the diner, savoring his tuna on rye as if it was the first meal he had eaten in weeks. In a small way, it was. Normally, Gil was so on the go that he had no time to really enjoy meals; it was all eat and get back to it, no chance to thoroughly enjoy. But this time was different, and Gil was simply delighted. He sat in a booth next to a window, munching on the second half of his sandwich, peering out at the overcast sky and the light rain that was falling.

Suddenly, his cell phone began to ring. Gil reached into the front pocket of his jacket and took it out. He flipped it open and looked at the number. It was Catherine.

"Hey Catherine!" He answered. "You'll never guess where I am right now …"

"Gil …"

"I'm sitting in a small diner downtown. I have no idea what it's called, but they know how to make a good sandwich here."

"Gil …"

"How'd you like to help me set up lunch here with the rest of the crew, it'll be my treat."

"Gil, listen! Do you remember Ryan Sullivan, the police chief we met earlier this summer?"

Gil felt his heart sink immediately. Just by the tone in Catherine's voice he could tell that something was wrong.

"Please Cath; don't tell me he's dead."

"No, but his fifteen year old son never made it home from school today."

Gil's heart sank lower. Though all cases of kidnappings and murders were sad, the ones which involved children were simply heartbreaking. As the news sunk in, Gil took a deep breath, but said nothing.

"I know you're enjoying a late lunch, but I really need you down here."

"Where are you? I'm on my way."

Less than an hour later, Gil was walking beside a busy main road. He had been asked to park a block away from what was believed to be the crime scene for secrecies sake, but people nearby were getting a little suspicious on account of the increased amount of police vehicles driving around the block. The police were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but that was more than difficult given the task at hand.

Gil turned a corner and spotted Catherine walking towards him. Before she said anything, she handed over a photograph and gave him a chance to look at it. It was a school portrait. The boy had chestnut brown hair, hazel eyes, and a friendly smile. Upon viewing the picture, Gil had to wonder why anyone would want to harm the boy.

"His name is Ryan Calder Sullivan Junior," Catherine began "more commonly known as RJ. He's in tenth grade – a good B average student, and according to his mother he walks home from school, taking the same route every day."

"What route?" Gil asked.

"We're walking it right now." She replied. "We're about at the halfway point between the school and the Sullivan's home."


For fifteen year old RJ Sullivan the school day had been decent – having its ups and downs as always, but he was feeling good. He walked quickly down a puddle laden alleyway, looking down aimlessly at his black Chuck Taylor sneakers. He wore them every day.

He was nearing the end of the alleyway. Even though his eyes were fixed downward, things started to look a little brighter. Just as he was about to step out of the alleyway and out into the open, he heard a loud engine approaching, and approaching quickly. He looked up and saw a white van as it came to a screeching halt in front of him. The side door was already beginning to slide open. RJ quickly turned around and started to run back into the alleyway. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, but when he was halfway through the alleyway, he felt a pair of hands come down on his shoulders. He was thrown backwards, and before he could react felt a cold piece of metal crash into the back of his head, stunning him and dizzying him instantly.

There was a man in front of him, and a man behind him, both wearing black. The man behind him had his arms wrapped around RJ's upper chest, and a cloth forcefully pressed against the boy's face. RJ struggled as he felt himself being pulled backwards, but was no match for the two men who had so easily subdued him. Within seconds he was hoisted up into the van. The door was closed, and all was dark.


Catherine and Gil had been walking for five minutes. She suddenly turned to the right, ducked under a strip of bright yellow police tape, and Gil followed. They were now in a dark alleyway where there were several police officers and a canine examining the area. Without a word, Catherine pointed forward. There, sitting in a puddle of water near the end of the alleyway was a lone shoe – a black Chuck Taylor.