Trials and Tribulations
My entry into the CSI Forever Online June 2015 Fan Fiction Challenge: "How It All Should End." Sponsored on csiforeveronline wikifoundry dot com and hosted by Calim1. The challenge is to write your own ending to the CSI: Crime Scene Investigation series, the 2 hour series finale TV movie, "Immortality," set to air on September 27 2015.
CSI. GSR. Gil Grissom, Sara Sidle, and all the characters returning for the CSI movie. Rated T. Drama.
Trials and Tribulations
Chapter One
(Interior, Courtroom)
"All rise."
There was a general rustling of clothing and scraping of chairs as the interested parties in the courtroom stood, and then when the judge instructed, sat down again. Sara Sidle sat at the front table to the left and faced the judge. She had files in front of her and her lawyer to her right. On the other side of the aisle sat Ronald Basderic. He leaned over to his left and whispered something in his lawyer's ear, then straightened and shot Sara a smug look. She studiously avoided making any eye contact or engaging him in any way, instead nervously sifting through the papers and making neat piles of them.
The judge looked around the courtroom and observed that everyone was silent and looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat.
"As you know, this is a preliminary hearing to determine the charges and counter-charges in the case of Sidle vs Basderic and Basderic vs Sidle. This is an informal hearing without a jury or grand jury present. Remember, the outcome could be two separate trials of the named individuals; a dismissal of some or all of the charges for one or the other person; a finding of sufficient evidence to proceed to trial on one or more offenses; or a dismissal of all charges to both individuals. We will be hearing evidence to support or refute all the alleged crimes. I hope you all have your testimony and corroborating evidence ready."
"We have, Your Honor," both lawyers responded in quick succession.
"Identify yourselves," the judge said, first looking at Sara's lawyer, a young 30-something-year-old man, of below average height, dark haired and nattily dressed in a well cut dark grey suit.
The lawyer stood quickly.
"My name is Charles Bancroft of the firm Olbermann & Chase."
"Are you a court appointed lawyer, a police union representative, or were you hired by Ms. Sidle?"
"I'm an attorney in private practice hired by Ms. Sidle, Your Honor."
"Very well. And you are?" The judge looked at Basderic's lawyer.
"Bob Richards, Your Honor, defense lawyer to my client Ronald Basderic." Richards had a booming voice and was possibly the biggest man in the room, 6' 4" with a big waistline and broad chest with a thatch of choppily cut dark blond hair. His suit seemed a little tight and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone with his tie loosely knotted. He smiled at the judge with big teeth in what he clearly thought was a winning smile. The judge ignored it.
"Mr. Richards, how long have you known your client, Ronald Basderic?"
"Over six years now."
"So you have defended him before?"
"Er, yes," Richards responded, looking uneasy for the first time. "On three separate occasions…but he was acquitted…"
The judge interrupted. "We'll get to that. All the criminal charges over the years against your client will be examined." The judge turned to the other lawyer.
"Mr. Bancroft, how long have you known your client?"
"Approximately two years. Since criminal charges were first brought against my client, Crime Scene Investigator Sara Sidle."
"I know Ms Sidle, she has testified before this court on numerous occasions," Judge Saunders replied in a warmer tone. "She has always been professional, articulate, and well informed." Sara brightened for the first time and smiled at him. Basderic glowered and poked Bob Richards, hissing something. His lawyer stood and spoke sharply.
"With all due respect Your Honor…Since you know the defendant, and apparently think highly of her, shouldn't you recuse yourself?"
The judge sniffed and fixed him with a hard stare. "I am sworn to be impartial, Mister Richards. The fact that I know Ms Sidle as a member of the law enforcement community is relevant to her as a person but irrelevant to the charges against her. I doubt there are any judges in Clark County who do not know CSI Sidle. Sit down."
He sat down.
(Cut To: Interior, McCarran Airport, Las Vegas. There's the normal confusion of people arriving and departing at a busy airport; long lines of people in front of the check-in counters and a stream of families and passengers laden with luggage emerging from the gates.)
Greg Sanders looked eager as he craned his neck and scanned over the people moving toward him. He glimpsed a head of strawberry-blonde hair and moved closer, looking intently until his face lit up with a broad smile.
"Catherine! Over here! Hey Cat!"
The two old friends and colleagues quickly met and hugged. Catherine Willows drew back and swatted Greg's arm playfully. "Didn't I tell you never to call me Cat?"
"Yeah, about 12 years ago!" They laughed and Greg grabbed her carry-on bag and she his arm and they strode toward the baggage claim, talking animatedly.
(Cut To: Interior of a city taxi. The driver is a swarthy man of Middle Eastern descent. There is a miniature flag of Syria glued to the dashboard and various exotic looking doodads personalizing his cab.)
The cab driver turned his head around to look at the passenger climbing in. It's D.B. Russell, looking uncharacteristically somber in a black suit and with a full white beard making him look old. He had to stoop to get his tall frame inside and he sat back with a sigh before speaking.
"Airport, please."
"Where to, bud?" Russell glared at him tiredly as if to say 'I just told you…' so he quickly added, "Which airline?"
"Oh. Southwest Airlines please."
"Got it. I'll get you there in no time, mister. I'm a very fast very good driver." They pulled out and the cabbie looked over his passenger in the rearview mirror.
"If you don't mind me saying, you look like you lost big at the casinos," said the friendly driver.
"No. No, I don't gamble. I lost… but not something. I lost someone. Someone I cared about."
The cabbie looked uncomfortable but pressed on tentatively. "Oh, I'm sorry. Family?"
"Not exactly. A friend. I was her boss. Her name was Julie Finlay and we worked together. She was…she was…one of my best friends and a helluva investigator." Russell's voice softened. "Smart, stubborn, beautiful. A fighter. But she lost her last fight."
"Cancer? Was she sick?"
"No, no," Russell shook his head. "She was beaten to a pulp by a serial killer, lingered in a coma for 6 months, and died this morning in Seattle."
The cab became very quiet.
(End of Teaser Scene. Roll Credits.)
