Flashback- Chapter 28

Captain Jim Brass watched with fascination as tiny points of light erupted below. The lights flashed randomly and were making slow progress up the dark shadow of the cliffs. Occasionally, he saw a flash of light further up and then those flashes stopped all together. Holding up the night vision goggles, he discerned individuals scattered at the base of the cliff and watched those figures spread out. The chopper he was in banked around and headed to the drop zone while their "cover" chopper followed close behind.

Gulping slightly, the police captain shut his eyes and said a silent prayer. A firm hand grabbed him on the shoulder and Bower gave him a thumbs-up and then pointed down, indicating that they were just about to the drop-zone. Brass returned the thumbs-up and faced the open door. The night sky was slowly lightening up and the intent was for Petersen to be able to see the jump, hoping that it would be just light enough for him to realize the "CSAR" had finally arrived. It was a fair bet that Petersen would be keeping a vigilant eye out for his rescuers.

Officer Aguilera turned to face his two companions who would be following him off the static line. Pointing to himself, then to Brass, and then to Bower, he indicated to the two men the order in which he wanted them to jump. Both men nodded solemnly, and the three of them waited for the okay from O'Sullivan for the go ahead.

As they circled the drop zone, the two other choppers hovered high above waiting for the men to jump. Then the signal came from O'Sullivan who waved Aguilera forward and screamed, "Go! Go! Go!"

As Aguilera launched himself out of the open door, O'Sullivan assisted Brass forward and patted him encouragingly on the back. Their eyes met, and the police captain gave him a nod, indicating that he was ready.

Brass took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and leaped forward. His stomach seemed to leap in his chest as his body initially went flying into space, and then, within seconds, he was jerked upward as his chute opened up above him. Letting out a long breath, Jim Brass looked up in time to see Bower make his leap from the open bay of the chopper. He stared at the helicopter as it gained in elevation and moved to join the two other choppers that were providing cover.

The radio attached to his helmet chirped and Aguilera came on. "Captain Brass, you with me, sir?"

"Yes," was Brass's quick reply as he scanned the air below him to find the para-rescueman. Sighting him, the police captain looked up to see the Bower's chute had deployed and was descending about a minute or two behind him. Holding onto the lines, he looked down again and scanned the area below him. The "enemy" seemed to be progressing up the cliff. The men could be seen shooting sporadically and, then he noticed that their ground "cover" was approaching providing cover for the parachutists.

As the ground rushed up to greet him, the police captain tried to relax and lean his body to the right where he had spotted a fairly soft place to land. Brass braced himself for the landing as the chute allowed for a moderately hard landing. With a rough thud, he hit the ground, forgetting everything that he was told about rolling into the landing. Relief flooded through him as realized that he was on the ground when a searing pain erupted in his right ankle.

Sara, Nick, and Warrick turned to watch in the gradually lightening sky the descent of three parachutists. They were too far away to be able to discern which of the three was Brass and assumed that he had landed safely when they heard over the radio that the "recovery" team had encountered a "slight" complication.

"What does that mean- a slight complication?" asked Sara.

"Could mean anything, Sara. Probably some of the medical supplies they were carrying didn't make it in one piece. I'm sure that everything will be cleared up soon," was Warrick quick reply.

"The jump looked like it went off without a hitch. The only thing I can figure is that maybe one of them didn't land well," speculated Nick.

The three CSI's looked at one another and all three spoke at the same time, "Brass."

"Okay, so now what?" Sara asked as she raised her night vision goggles in the direction were they had seen the parachutes.

"Well, there's not a lot we can do. There's gunfire going on around us. Petersen hopefully saw the drop so he's expecting for team to get there soon," was Warrick's reply.

The ricochet of bullets caused them to duck down lower. Ames came trotting up, all the while keeping his head down.

"Apparently, Petersen saw the drop and is "helping" to provide cover for the rescue team, which is according what Captain Bower expected. The "enemy" will try one more "surge" towards the ledge before our "cover" team convinces them to beat a hasty retreat."

"What about the "slight" complication with the drop team?" asked Warrick.

The officer shook his head slightly and gave a wry grin. 'It seems that your Captain Brass didn't remember landings were as hard as they used to be. He sustained a rather nasty sprain."

The explanation brought small smiles to the CSI's.

Ames continued, "Bower was able to wrap up that ankle nice and tight and Aguilera gave him some painkillers. The captain was not going to be left behind come hell or high water. We were afraid that he would hamper the progress of the team up to that ledge, but I just heard that he's leading the charge. In fact, we've had to hold them back because the "cover" team wasn't quite in position. Your captain is one tough bastard. He was madder than hell at the delay."

More shots rang out and then a panicked cry could be heard. "I've been hit…I've been hit."

A fraction of a second later, two quick explosions erupted near their position. Sprays of dirt, rock, and vegetation rained down upon them as they all hit the deck as the earth beneath them shook violently from the concussion of the blasts.

Silence settled down over the Ames and the CSI's as they lay temporarily paralyzed by shock and surprise. Nick was the first to move and sit up carefully. He looked over at his companions and gently shook each one to make sure that they were okay. Slowly they all sat up as they shook the dirt and dust off of themselves.

"What the hell was that?" breathed Warrick quietly and then turning to his friends asked quickly, "Everyone okay?"

As the seconds passed, they could hear faint moans further up the hillside. Obviously the blasts had caused havoc with the "insurgent" team and medical attention was needed up there.

Ames was immediately on his radio trying to ascertain who had been hit and how serious. Up until then, there had been no mishaps or injuries, but those things were bound to happen. The officer just hoped that the causalities would be kept to a minimum and that everyone would come out alive.

Ames turned at the sound of Lieutenant Mason from SWAT coming up from the rear and crept over to him. The two men conferred for some minutes, and then Mason, who was dressed in Marine garb instead of the usual SWAT uniform, nodded and then crept back towards a small group of similarly dressed SWAT officers were waiting.

The members of Grissom's team waited impatiently for Ames to return and immediately inundated him with questions. Meanwhile, random shots were being fired from higher up- Petersen obviously making his presence known.

Holding his hand up, Ames silenced the three investigators. "First of all, as far as we can tell, the men who were posing as "insurgents" and were making their way up the hillside are all still alive. However, that's not going to stay that way for long. Two of my guys need medical attention with shrapnel wounds. It's seems our boy up there has a number of booby traps set in and around the rocks up there. We're damn lucky the whole cliff-side didn't collapse on top of us and start a rock slide."

"So what's next?" Sara asked.

Ames turned to the slender brunette and replied, "First thing we have to do is to discover and defuse any more of these traps that Petersen has set and get aid to the injured up there."

"How is finding those traps going to happen with Petersen randomly firing at anything that moves?" asked Warrick.

"It means that we're going to have to find a way to neutralize him without any more of these men getting hurt or even killed. We are considering trying to gas him outta there."

"What…what about our man up there with him? Last we heard, he was in some respiratory distress. What are your thoughts about getting him out of there?" demanded Sara as she folded her arms in a defensive posture.

The officer gave her a steely look and snapped back, "I haven't forgotten about him, but I also have to think about the men under my command. If there is a way to get your Grissom and Petersen out of this in relatively one piece, we'll find it. However, in the meantime, I've got men up there injured because of one whacked out Marine."

Both Nick and Warrick gently put their hands on Sara's shoulder as a show of support as Nick spoke up in his quiet Texas drawl, "Officer Ames, we are at your disposal. Anything we can do to help, we're more than willing. We, believe it or not, have been field trained because of the nature of our work. Just tell us what you want us to do."

Both Warrick and Sara nodded in agreement. Ames appreciated the willingness of the people standing before him, but they were not military trained. Most of the SWAT team members were former military so they understood military protocol.

As shots continued to be randomly shot from above, Ames considered the situation before him. They could not use tear gas to drive Petersen from his perch up above because of unknown condition of Grissom. It was made clear to Ames and O'Sullivan that this Grissom fellow was a vital part of the Las Vegas Police Department, and that it was imperative that they do everything possible to rescue him. A medic would arrive any moment and he would need assistance in treating and evacuating those injured on the hillside.

The mixture of military and SWAT would be needed to clear the area and, frankly, any spare hands to help with the wounded could not be turned down.

"All right then," Ames said reluctantly, "you're in, but you follow my instructions to the letter. One of the medics should be here momentarily. Once the path has been cleared of any "surprises," your job is to get to the injured, and follow the medic's directions. We'll need to evacuate them asap."

The officer then turned to Nick, who was consciously trying to stand erect and ignore his injuries. "I appreciate the fact that you don't want to stay back where it's safe and that you want to take part of the action, but you need to be honest with me. How much is that injured hand of yours and the stab wound to your side going to hamper you and endanger your friends here?"

Nick stiffened at the question and said tightly, "I wouldn't offer to go up there if I thought I'd be putting anyone's life in danger. Yes, you're damn right it hurts, but I've had worse. I'm quite capable of doing anything you want me to do up there."

Ames took a deep breath and against his better judgment, nodded his head and trotted back to Mason.

Nick let out a sigh, leaned against the rock they were using for cover, and relaxed a little now that Ames was not close by.

The reverberation of the ground from the two blasts penetrated through the haziness that seemed to cover him. Grissom listened to the sudden quiet and then heard shots being fired. Opening his eyes he tried to put all the pieces together, but they were just beyond his grasp. The moonlight's eerie illumination made everything surreal. Glancing around him, the senior investigator took stock of his situation. Feeling extremely weak and dizzy, Grissom pushed himself up and against the cool stone wall of the ledge. Blood seeped from the corner of his lips and dripped down onto his shirt. Coughing weakly, he struggled to his knees. He had to know what was going on.

As he pulled himself up using the stone to lean against, he was able to stand weakly using the rock heavily for support. Holding his side, Grissom staggered one or two steps when he was suddenly grabbed by the strong firm arms of Petersen.

"Whoa… whoa…there Murph," whispered Petersen fiercely, "where do you think your headed?"

Grissom shook his head weakly, tired of this charade. "Not…not Murph," he rasped, "we're…you're…not…in…Afghanistan anymore."

Whether Petersen understood what he said or not, Grissom couldn't tell. The Marine continued to hold him up and led him further back into the recesses of the narrow crevice, glancing over his shoulder occasionally.

It was eerily quiet, though Grissom thought he could hear faint groans emanating through the canyon. Dizzily, he couldn't tell whether those groans were coming from the desert or from himself.

Petersen half-dragged, half carried Grissom to the cooler recesses of the crevice. After a few more steps, he gently lowered a weakly protesting Grissom to the ground.

"Murph, don't know what you're mumblin' about, but it's dangerous out there. I…I bought us some time. A number of them are wounded and I think they've stopped. I need to fire some more shots out there just to let them know we haven't given up."

Petersen chuckled softly to himself, "That ragtag gang out there can't hit the broadside of a barn. All their shots have been off the mark…not like the training we had, right Murph?"

"P…Petersen, this is…this isn't what you think," whispered Grissom.

"Listen, Murph. You can hang on. I saw them. I saw them. They're on their way. Help is on the way," Petersen panted, not seeming to hear what Grissom was saying, "I just need to keep us safe for just a little while longer. I saw PJ's parachute in."

Confusion flooded Grissom's mind. Parachutes? Wait…wait… Grissom closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. I radioed Sara. Brass was with SAR…recreate a military rescue? He opened his eyes, understanding coming over him on what was coming off.

"Murph, you'll be safe here…until CSAR comes. I saw them. I'm going back out there to provide some cover and lead them in. Insurgents are still out there. They'll try to get to us before CSAR gets here. I've got to hold them off."

Grissom turned weary eyes to Petersen. "Wait…wait. Pete wait, okay?"

The injured supervisor clenched the Marine's sleeve and held on. "What…what were those explosions? Te…tell me what you did, damn it."

Petersen looked back down at Grissom with genuine puzzlement across his face. "I just slowed the advance up the hill a little. I bought us a little time is all. I made some homemade landmines- kinda fitting don't you think?"

Grissom swallowed the bile that was building up behind his throat and fought for some patience. He was sure that the moans that he heard were victims of Petersen's landmines and he had to think of a way for Petersen to stay with him.

"Stay…stay here with me. If…if you go out there and get killed, how…how will CSAR know where to find me? You've got to guide them in. You…you did a good job. I don't hear anything do you? CSAR will get here before they regroup. I…I think that they'll need to take care of their wounded, besides we might need you to save your ammunition. You've got to be running low on rounds and you don't want to expend it too soon."

Grissom paused after so many words, trying to get his energy and breath back. "How…how many more surprises do you have planted out there for them?"

Petersen looked uncertain and glanced towards the narrow passage where he and Grissom were hidden. What the lieutenant said made sense. The Marine crouched down closer to his injured companion and nodded his head in agreement.

"I planted four more, but you're right. I don't have much ammo left. I guess that's why you're a lieutenant and I'm a lowly sergeant. I will check on the progress of the rescue team in a minute," said Petersen with a small grin.

Petersen sat down beside Grissom who had closed his eyes, relieved that the Marine would not be causing any more injuries or deaths for the next few minutes. Brass, however this is supposed to run, hopefully I bought you some time. Just hurry.

TBC