A/N: Thank you immensely for the wonderful reviews for the last chapter and for reading in general. As I'm sure you know by now, I really appreciated it. Maybe I should have injured Grissom sooner ;-)…not that I'm saying he gets injured…anyway. Enjoy!
"You!" Grissom gasped as he straightened up automatically bringing his hands up in the air.
For an instant the assailant mirrored Grissom's look of extreme shock but quickly regained his composure as he calmly pulled the car door shut after him, his gun still trained on the ex-CSI.
"Ah, Mr Grissom, you're not exactly who I was expecting either," he said coolly, before slowly shaking his head whilst making a 'tutting' sound. "I see I'm going to have to change my plans. You have quite a habit of getting in the way, don't you?"
Grissom's heart was in his mouth as adrenaline surged through him and he suddenly had a flash of understanding as everything slid into place. "It was you! You took Alison. Where is she?" he asked. "What have you done with her, you son of a bitch?"
Smiling, the attacker raised an interested and bemused brow at Grissom. "Wow, I don't remember you so…loose with your vocabulary." His smile widened to an evil grin. "On the contrary, you always struck me as being very collected. I'd even go as far as say, cool." He dropped the smile and narrowed his gaze menacingly at Grissom. "Now, now, you want to watch that tone of yours. I will let this one pass but next time," the man stopped talking and grinned viciously at Grissom as he wiggled his brows, "Next time…well…we wouldn't want you to make a fuss. Do I make myself clear?" He let his words sink and to prove his point he slowly raised the gun in his gloved hand, his index finger on the trigger, until it was almost touching Grissom's forehead. Looking Grissom straight in the eye, he whispered, "Who knows what might happen then?"
Grissom held the man's gaze, trying to remain as expressionless as possible but couldn't help backing off a little as he felt the cold metal of the gun on his skin. He still had his hands up but he could feel them shake a little as he struggled to control the involuntary tremors that were already taking hold.
The assailant slowly lowered the gun from Grissom's forehead down to his chest as he instructed, "First, you're going to put your hands down on the wheel without making any sudden movement or do anything to arouse suspicion. We wouldn't want one of these passing cars to call the cops." He smiled again, seemingly enjoying this slow-paced kidnapping. "When this heavy rain's eased off a little we'll move to my truck."
Grissom continued his silent staring of the man but didn't move an inch not even to glance in the rear-view mirror to check the man's truck. Catherine's words when she had apprised him of the case came back to him. He got away in a black Mitsubishi pick-up truck. So, it was you all along. Interesting, thought Grissom, his mind going into overdrive as he attempted to devise a get-away plan.
"Go on, Mr Grissom, try it," the man taunted with an 'I dare you' tilt of his head, cutting into Grissom's thoughts. "I know what you're thinking. It's only natural after all; your human instinct at self-preservation. I'm going to make it easier for you. The way I see it, you have two choices. Either you comply of your own free will and you have my word things will go smoothly and you will be unharmed, or you try to make a run for it. So which one will it be?"
Grissom remained silent, engrossed in his own thoughts and very happy to waste time letting his attacker do the talking.
"Oh, but…may I point something out to you?" the assailant continued, "You were never very agile or quick on your feet before and you're wondering…" the corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked smile, "…whether you could out-run me with your," his gaze flitted to Grissom's left leg and he smiled, "injury. Take a good look around you, Mr Grissom. There's nothing but desert and more desert for a few miles and in this weather, you wouldn't get very far."
Grissom's expression was blank; trying as he was to patiently bide his time. He seems to like the sound of his own voice and strangely enough isn't in any hurry to move. That could play to my advantage.
"You're wondering how I know?" the man asked, distractedly shaking the wet hair out of his face as he continued with his monologue, "About your leg? I've been watching you."
Taken aback, Grissom frowned at the words.
"You're right," the man conceded in response to Grissom's unspoken question. "That's not strictly the case. I've actually been watching Lady Heather or rather her Dominion…and have been for a while now. I've been waiting for the perfect time to make my move. What happened, Mr Grissom? You had an accident?"
Grissom calmly lifted his brow in a 'wouldn't you like to know' manner but remained staring unblinkingly. He's right, he thought. I can't escape. If I lunge for his gun and he pulls the trigger, at this range I'm a dead man. No, I need to be cleverer than him. He already made a mistake thinking Heather was at the wheel and he thinks he's got it all covered. Let's see about that.
Grissom's poised self-control and non-response were beginning to rattle the man whose hand started to shake a little as he held the gun. The loud unrelenting pelting of the rain on the SUV was the only sound puncturing the sudden uncomfortable silence. Grissom thought it a good time to make his move.
"Give me the gun," he uttered calmly, his voice low. Showing a confidence he wasn't quite feeling, Grissom lowered his right hand and slowly extended it out toward the man. "Whatever this is, it's not you. It's not who you are. I know that you're not a violent man."
The ex-criminalist smiled a crooked nervous grimace when he noticed the man's grip on the silver weapon tighten as he motioned with the gun for Grissom to raise his hand again. Unfazed, Grissom slowly complied but continued talking. "Tell me where Alison is and I'll let you go. You can leave the state, leave the country." He shrugged. "Otherwise it's only a matter of time before you get caught. We already know what vehicle you drive and we're getting close, very close to finding you. And I'm fairly sure you don't want to end up in jail, do you? It didn't do Chloe any good."
Grissom's arms were starting to hurt as he struggled to keep them upright and they gradually starting edging their way downwards, his elbows down to his thighs.
On hearing Grissom's mention of Chloe, the assailant's smug expression lost its lustre. "Don't you dare move another inch!" he snapped. "You're beginning to irritate me and test my patience." The two men stared at each other and Grissom relented and slowly brought his hands back up above his shoulders.
Come on, Sara. I need a diversion.
Running out of time, Grissom nodded to the gun trying a different approach. "Not your gun, is it?" he stated. "Smith & Wesson, a Lady Smith, and as the name would suggest, it's more of a woman's gun. Not your weapon of choice I should think. Too messy. Was it a last minute decision, to take the gun?"
"Who cares about all that?" replied the man. "What matters is that I have the upper hand and wouldn't hesitate for an instant to shoot and I can assure you it would do its purpose. Small but deadly," he said pausing for effect. "But just to satisfy your curiosity, Mr Grissom, it was my late wife's. You remember her, don't you?"
Grissom involuntarily made a face as he recalled the case in question.
"I got it her as a gift on our first wedding anniversary." He paused and frowned as a thought came to him. "Oh, Mr Grissom, bravo. I see what you're doing. You're stalling for time. Very good. But I'm in charge here, so we do as I say."
Grissom smiled at the man while bravely holding his gaze. "And you like that, don't you? Being the boss. Having the power. Being in charge." He spoke slowly and deliberately paused between each carefully-enunciated word thus accentuating its meaning for emphasis.
The attacker inhaled deeply. "Shut up," the man spat quietly as he let his breath out, for the first time truly rattled by Grissom's words. His left eye started to twitch nervously. "Now, SHUT UP AND PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS ON THE STEERING WHEEL!" he shouted.
The ex-CSI couldn't help flinch at the sudden unexpected change in the man's mood and found himself complying, turning away so he was now facing the windshield as he began to lower his hands. He caught sight of his cell phone out of the corner of his eye.
Come on honey, call. What are you waiting for? I need you NOW.
"Slowly, please, Mr Grissom," the man said, quickly regaining his restraint. "Spread them." Grissom obeyed and placed his hands in the 'ten to two' position on the wheel. "Good. You're a quick learner. Now listen carefully," the man continued, "Since I've had to rethink my plans, you're coming with me."
Grissom turned his head to the right to look at his attacker. "What are you going to do with me?" he asked before kicking himself inwardly for his lapse in self-control.
The man smirked in satisfaction. "Ah! At long last! A reaction from the ever-so-stoic Supervisor Grissom. Now, what am I going to do with you? Let's see." He paused for a moment as he considered his options. "Well, I could kill you here but that would leave a trace. So far, I've executed my plan cleanly and to the letter. And it shall remain so. Oh, but don't worry," he winked arrogantly, "I will think of a way. I am a patient man and I…we," he amended with a nod toward Grissom, "have all the time in the world. I have waited years for this and I shall relish every single minute." He grinned maliciously. "You're just a glitch, an unfortunate occurrence."
"Why wait all this time?" Grissom enquired, interrupting the man's diatribe. "Why wait all this time to make your move? If it is Heather you want, why not get her at home? She's been there on her own all this time."
The man's expression clouded. "You ask too many questions."
"Why not take her from the house though? You had ample opportunity," Grissom insisted keeping his voice deliberately low as he tried to win more time before the man decided that they needed to make a move.
"I needed neutral grounds, somewhere where Heather wouldn't have a home advantage. We both know she's perfectly capable of putting up a good fight."
"Why? Were you concerned you wouldn't be a match for her?" retorted Grissom very calmly.
The man's lips twitched into a nervous, hesitant smile but he didn't take the bait.
To Grissom, this flitting change of expression meant he had hit a nerve. Come on, push a little more; you're getting to him, he thought so he said,"So you rigged her car. Once out in the desert, caught off-guard…" Grissom shrugged the end of his sentence as the carjacker blinked his acquiescence.
"Now listen carefully," the assailant cut in before Grissom could go on, "Although I'm thoroughly enjoying our little cosy chat, we can't stay here all evening. So, let's move." Grissom's gaze flitted to the rear-view mirror and for the first time caught sight of the black Mitsubishi pick-up truck parked directly behind them. "This is how it's going to work," the man continued, "You take the wheel while I direct you. We're not going far. If you try anything stupid, I'll kill you and then the girl."
Grissom didn't move.
The man snapped his fingers impatiently while gesturing with his head for Grissom to comply. "Come on, MOVE! What are you waiting for?"He frowned, seemingly pondering Grissom's lack of movement. "Oh, are you resisting? I like that."
Suddenly, Grissom's cell phone rang. The attacker coolly glanced at the device on the dashboard before lifting the gun and aiming it square on Grissom's temple. He picked up Grissom's phone with his free hand, and without looking at it, quickly ended the call before dropping it in his lap.
With the gun trained where it was, there wasn't much Grissom could do with or without a diversion. However, his best chance was still to stay in the car for as long as possible until his attacker faltered or until Sara raised the alarm – whichever came first. He had to be patient and get him to talk some more.
"How do I know you've not killed Alison already?" Grissom tried. "In fact how do I know you've got her at all and that this is not just a ploy at playing out your sick fantasies?"
"What? You don't trust me? And there I was thinking we were getting on so well." He paused and much to Grissom's surprise answered the question. "I thought I might have needed a little incentive to convince Heather to come with me without kicking up a fuss, so I brought a little something."
Not taking his eyes off Grissom, the man pulled a cell phone out of his coat pocket with his free hand and using that same hand pressed a few keys. He turned the screen toward his victim and played a twenty seconds video recording of a little girl playing in a backyard.
Grissom narrowed his eyes at the screen as he watched the video. He wondered briefly about Alison's location if she was allowed to play outside, in full view, where anyone could recognise her, where she could call for help if she wanted to. His gaze then flitted to the bottom of the screen and he checked the date and time of the recording. He gave a slight nod toward the phone and said, "How do I know this is Alison and not some other child?"
The man smiled. "Now, Heather wouldn't have needed to ask that question."
He let the video recording run and after ten seconds or so, Grissom heard a female voice call 'Alison' and the little girl turned around toward the phone and smiled. The ex-CSI had no doubt that he was looking at Alison and his heart tightened in his chest. He felt some relief at knowing she was alive and looked well but idly wondered why she looked so serene.
And at that particular moment he realised that if he fully complied with the demands of his kidnapper he would most probably be led to Alison's location. And that could possibly be their only break in the case.
He tried stalling for a little more time. He still needed Sara to raise the alarm. "How did you…get her to come with you?" he asked quietly.
"That's more like you; the Mr Grissom of old would have been asking that question from the start. As I recall, you're all about the how. It took a lot of careful planning. Besides, children are trusting – you might even say gullible. A few well-placed lies and a little help from narcotics was all it took."
Grissom's cell rang again. On the second ring, the man fumbled for it on his lap while keeping his eyes pinned on Grissom and tightening his grip on the revolver with his other hand, which he raised once more to Grissom's temple. "Someone's insistent and obviously missing you," he said with a quick glance at the illuminated display as he pressed the key to redirect the call to voicemail. He motioned with the gun, indicating that Grissom should open the car door and get out. "Come on, the rain's eased off and we've wasted enough time. We'd better make a move before this Sara calls the cavalry."
As his left eye began to twitch again, the attacker closed both his eyes to blink away his nervous spasm, for the first time forgetting to raise and aim the gun at Grissom's head allowing him the opportunity to pounce. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the ex-CSI lunged on impulse, his right hand ramming the man backward into the car door, while his left hand grabbed and turned the weapon away towards his attacker who cried out in pain and surprise. The collision sent the revolver flying into the air but not before the trigger was pulled. The first round barrelled out directly into the passenger seat missing them both.
For an instant, both men looked around in a frantic search for the gun and as Grissom caught sight of it resting on the middle console, he launched himself onto it at the same time as the attacker. Grissom got a hold on the gun first but the punch in the ribs he received was forceful enough to make him double over in pain with the gun still in his hand. Momentarily dazed, he tried weakly to protect himself from the punches while fighting off his attacker who was desperately wrestling the gun out of his right hand.
Grissom used the last of his strength to try to yank the gun away as he elbowed his assailant in the face, causing the latter to fly backwards toward the side window. Pointing the gun towards his attacker Grissom licked at the trickle of blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth. Wincing in pain, he muttered "Don't move" as he turned his body to get a better angle. He never saw the kick that struck him square in the jaw causing a second shot to be fired, its echo ringing out into the desert night.
And then, there was just…silence.
Tbc.
A/N: Damn! That was a hard chapter to write and I'm still not sure about it; I feel knackered just posting it. Please leave a comment, good and bad I appreciate it all!