Title: Triple Trouble

Author: lildreamer

Rating: T for violence and disturbing images

Pairings: Various pairings—HC, Grillows, Snickers, SMacked, and others…

Spoilers: There will be several references to certain episodes from all three CSIs. I will let you know at the beginning of each chapter what they are.

Summary: One killer so diabolical, so dangerous, so deadly will attract the attention of CSIs across the nation when he pulls off the greatest crime the CSIs have ever witnessed. Three very different teams of CSIs will be drawn together only to find themselves thrown into the killer's deadly game where the only way to win...is to lose.

It's a race against time and deadly betrayal. They are all about to be tested to the very limit. And they are prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. Because ultimately, one of them will lose this fight...

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CSIs or any of its characters. This story is fictional; any similarities to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

A/N: Hey, yall! It's great to be back. Sorry, it took me a while to update. The holidays took a lot out of me…Anyway, here's the second installment in my "Triple" series. This first section is to help refresh those who've read Triple Threat. For those of you that haven't, this will help you catch up. Enjoy:)

Five days ago in Las Vegas…

"Hey, guys!" Everyone turned to the young CSI. "I think that girl's in trouble."

Greg pointed across the street and they turned around to see what he was talking about.

"Someone, help me, please!" she screamed, running into the street toward them. "Please, help me! He's after me!"

"Miss, what's going on?" Grissom called, stepping forward.

Before she could answer and before any of them could react, tires screeched not too far away and a dark SUV came speeding out of nowhere. They all watched in horror as the vehicle barreled right into the young woman, ran her over, and sped away into the night.

They raced over to the unconscious woman, careful not to disturb the scene. Grissom immediately put his fingers to her neck then shook his head sadly.

"She's dead."

Dave was crouched down beside the body. He was jotting down a few notes when Grissom walked up to him.

"Find anything?" the CSI supervisor asked.

The ME reached over to the girl's left pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. "I found this in her pocket," he explained, handing it over to Grissom.

He unfolded it gingerly, not wanting to rub off any trace or fingerprints, and a small, shiny object slipped out from inside. Dave caught it before it hit the ground and handed it to him.

"It's a key," Grissom said, turning it around in his fingers several times, studying it. Then his eyes went back down to the paper. His eyebrow went up again. In somewhat neat, loopy handwriting it read:

She means nothing.

Grissom put his phone away and looked back down at his desk where he'd laid the report he'd been reading. His gaze suddenly shifted to a piece of paper lying underneath the folder, its corners peeking out from behind it. How could he have not noticed it before?

He picked it up carefully and examined it. It was plain, white paper, no fancy labels, no obvious identifiers, nothing to call attention—

He froze momentarily as his eyes fell on what was written on it:

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU TO INVESTIGATE THIS.

His cell phone chirped loudly from the cup holder. He stared at the screen, recognizing the number. He picked it up, unfolded it, and lifted it to his ear.

"Hello? Catherine?"

There was no answer from the other line. All he could hear was static, then—

"Gil…"

"Catherine!"

The phone went dead.

"Lindsey?"

A fist thumped into the door. "Uncle Gil! Help me!" Lindsey's muffled voice cried.

Grissom dashed toward the closet, threw the chair aside, and opened the door. The moment the girl saw him she fell into his arms, sobbing.

"Lindsey, are you okay?" he asked, taking her in both arms. "What happened?"

"She—she's gone!" she sobbed, pointing at something on the floor. "He took her! He took my mom!"

Warrick was crouched by the small blood pool and was in the process of collecting the bullet. He looked up at his supervisor, clearly upset and confused.

"What did you find?"

"This bullet did not come from this gun." Grissom quirked an eyebrow as the younger CSI showed him both items. "The gun is a .38, but the bullet is a 9mm. I'm no ballistics expert, but I know a .38 can't fire a 9mm. What do you make of it?"

The CSI supervisor stared at the items, a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes. "It's a message…"

"Gris!" It was Nick, hollering from the hallway. "Grissom!"

"Didn't you get Archie's page?" Warrick asked.

"What?" Grissom glanced at his cell phone and only now realized that he had a new message. He had been so preoccupied, he hadn't noticed his phone go off.

"He says he's got something we need to see," Greg explained, insistent and excited. "It's about Catherine!"

"Hello, Grissom." The man on the screen had stopped moving and looked straight at them through what was probably some kind of webcam. "How are you doing, my old friend?"

"Who is this?"

"You know," the man was speaking calmly again. "I thought about killing you, but I've decided this will be much better." He paused and made a soft sound that sounded like a moan. "I think I have something of yours."

The man fidgeted then crossed out of sight and off camera, leaving them a direct view of an old bed. Everyone's eyes widened. Catherine was strapped to the bedposts by her wrists and ankles. Still in the clothes she'd been wearing the previous night. She was shaking with sobs.

The man grinned wickedly, his dark figure filling the screen once again. "You have three days."

"Three days to do what?" Warrick asked, the anger apparent in his voice.

"Three days to give me what I want…or someone else will disappear!"

"Mr. Grissom, what the heck is going on?" Sam demanded, marching into the room. "What are you trying to pull?"

"Excuse me?" Grissom stared at him, taken back.

"I wanna know who he is, now!" Sam growled, angrily. "Who kidnapped my baby girl?"

Nick stood up to follow Sara out of the room when the computer began beeping. They both whirled around. The gun had gotten a hit on IBIS!

Nick jumped back into his seat and studied the screen, Sara standing behind him looking over his shoulder.

"It says here that the gun is a match to one that was used in a robbery a few months ago down in…Miami."

Grissom glanced at his watch. "I'm going to be taking a little trip."

"You are?" Sara's eyebrows shot up. "When?"

"I'll be catching a flight to Miami tomorrow morning."

Before Grissom knew it, they'd landed at Miami International Airport. More determined than ever to find his best friend, he quickly found and retrieved what little belongings he'd brought with him then began making his way out of the terminal.

Near the exit a man in a sharp suit and dark pants, fiddling with a pair of sunglasses in his hands, was there to greet him.

"Dr. Grissom…" The tall redhead looked up at him, a twinkle in his eye.

"Welcome, to Miami."

And now, Part 2…