At the fifth lash, McCormick threw the whip on the floor as unexpectedly as he had picked it up, stopping his manic lynching, disgusted that Grissom had passed out so soon. He snorted as he thought about the dying man's low pain threshold, feeling smug and satisfied at his little display. However, his audience had gone and his subject was unconscious. What was the point of inflicting pain on his subject if the man wasn't awake to enjoy it?

No point flogging a dead horse, he thought with a smirk.

After a few minutes spent closely observing the man for some reaction as though he were watching a specimen in a jar McCormick grew mildly concerned that Grissom hadn't come to yet. He carelessly pressed his warm sticky fingers to Grissom's throat feeling for his pulse. His heart skipped a beat when he didn't immediately locate one and he had a flitting moment of panic at the thought that maybe Grissom was already dead. However, when he shoved Grissom's head up to gain better access to the pulse point in his throat he soon smirked on discovering a faint heartbeat.

"Still some life in you, old man. Good."

Smiling, he lightly ran his fingers along Grissom's broken jaw, and lingered there feeling immense pleasure as he pressed a little harder at the fractured articulation just below the ear. Just as he was about to remove his hand, Grissom's eyes snapped wide open and McCormick jerked back in shock. He quickly recovered and pursed his lips into a very slow and sadistic smile when he noticed the horrendous pain mixed with outright fear reflected in the bloodshot eyes, emotions Grissom wasn't able to hide.

Yet the mood quickly changed; all of a sudden Grissom's eyes became wider still as he struggled to draw breath, gasping for air, his crooked mouth half-opened as he desperately sucked in precious air into his lungs. His eyes soon glazed over, pleading of their own accord for some mercy.

"Grissom! Don't you dare suffocate on me now!" McCormick exclaimed. "I haven't finished with you yet."

Grissom shut his eyes, still wheezing, gasping for air.

"This is not how I want it to end for you. This is not what I planned. I will choose when it is time for you to die; you do not get to decide. I'm the one in control here, not you."

McCormick watched as Grissom's lips pursed into a dubious smile. Oh the irony! If he'd had the strength – and the time – Grissom would have made a point of explaining a crucial and basic teaching in the S&M relationship McCormick should have learnt a long time ago: that the submissive one always has the power.

"DON'T YOU DARE DIE WITH A FUCKING SMILE ON YOUR FACE!" McCormick shouted. "YOU HEAR ME?"

McCormick quickly loosened the buckles on the restraints freeing Grissom who was too weak to stand and just toppled forward limply. He had just enough time to catch him over his shoulder before dropping him unceremoniously onto the bed. Shaking his head in disbelief at the turn the events were taking, he cast a disgusted look at Grissom for being so…pathetic.

"Shit! I need a new plan. Fuck!" McCormick muttered, pacing along the bed. He moved to the open door. "Valerie? Valerie?" he called loudly before rushing back to the bed, on the way catching sight of Grissom's pictures on the bedside table. He smiled wickedly as he picked them up, an idea forming in his head and studied them for a while as he considered the feasibility of his own Machiavellian machinations.

He looked around the room and when he noticed Valerie hadn't responded to his summon he inhaled deeply and loudly to contain his discontentment and growing frustration, his gaze as dark as a thunderous sky as he stormed out of the bedroom. "Where the fuck is she now?" he muttered to himself, rushing down the stairs. As he reached the bottom step he heard the toilet flush and made his way to the bathroom door, yanking it open expecting to find Valerie cowardly hiding in there.

He did a double take in surprise at discovering Alison, looking a sorry sight, eyes red and puffy from crying.

The little girl started in panic when she noticed McCormick and her expression shifted from scared to terrified in a split second. Yet her crying stopped. She began to shake, partly in fear of McCormick himself but most importantly lest he should find out about Grissom's cell missing from his jacket pocket, the phone she had only just used to call 911, the very phone she had only just managed to conceal from sight and was clutching in her hand behind her back.

"Where's Valerie?" he asked hurriedly.

Rooted to the spot, eyes wide with fear, Alison shrugged her ignorance as her fingers involuntarily curled tighter around the cell.

McCormick was distracted, looking around for Valerie. "Go to your room. Go play with your dolls."

Alison hesitated, afraid to walk past the man and reveal the phone.

McCormick looked down, narrowing his gaze suspiciously before crouching down to Alison's height. "What's this? What have you got in your hand?"

The little girl froze, her eyes immediately filling with fresh tears as she averted her gaze to the floor.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he instructed harshly before adding in a menacing tone, "I said, What-have-you-got-in-your-hand?" Alison made no move. "PUT YOUR HAND OUT IN FRONT OF YOU!" he commanded leaving her no choice but to comply. "OPEN IT! The man then yelled even louder making her jump.

Alison did and McCormick snatched the phone out of her hand and examined it. He looked up at her in bewilderment and then it dawned on him whose phone it was. His mood becoming thunderous, he tried to switch it on.

"The battery's dead," he muttered frustratingly. "Did you get to use it?"

Alison lifted a shoulder in an almost imperceptible shrug.

"DID YOU MAKE A CALL?" he shouted to her face.

Alison began to frantically shake her head, silent tears still streaming down.

McCormick grabbed her by the hair and pulled. He pulled very hard. "Did you make the call?" he asked very quietly yet in a very threatening and frightening manner as he gave her hair a sharp tug.

Yelping in pain, Alison brought her hands up to her head to stop him from hurting her while giving a small nod of the head.

"Who did you call?"

Frightened to death at the obvious consequences of her actions, the five-year-old girl gasped, "The Police."

McCormick released his hold on her and let out a great frustrated scream as he smashed the phone against the wall. At the same time, in fear of McCormick's enraged outburst Alison brought her arms up to cover her face and curled herself in a tight ball thinking McCormick was going to hit her.

"You stupid, stupid girl…What have you gone and done now? Go. Go to your room. NOW!" McCormick yelled shaking his head in disbelief as Alison scurried for dear life. He followed her, slammed the door shut and then turned the key in the lock, on the look-out for Valerie.

"I've cleaned the recording as much as I can," Archie said as a preamble to the four people crammed into the A/V lab. "We can hear a lot better and a lot more than dispatch could."

Brass cleared his throat. "Heather, from what Archie tells me, Alison's upset and well, to tell you the truth I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here at all but Sara seems to think you might be able to help."

In response, Heather nodded with a quick thankful glance at Sara, choosing to stay. Brass made a face that seemed to say 'So be it' and motioned for Archie to start playing the recording.

"Hello, 911, what is your emergency?"

For the first ten seconds, Alison's distressed sobbing filled the line and Heather sucked in a breath, tears immediately filling her eyes.

"Hello? Hello? You're through to the police. How may I help you?"

"Please come…It's horrible... killing …, he's killing him."

Although she finally had the confirmation that Grissom was well and truly still alive, Sara's pulse quickened on hearing Alison's mention of 'killing him' and she turned her anxious gaze to Nick. Nodding with a small smile, the latter reached out and squeezed her shoulder in comfort.

Wracked with sobs, Alison's voice was weak, as was the connection and it was clear that dispatch had had to crank the volume up to the maximum to be able to hear. "You've got to speak louder, okay? I can't hear you very well."

"I can't or … hear …. Please, you've got…and rescue us."

"How old are you, sweetheart? Is there another adult here that could help you?"

"No… yes but I'm hiding. If Daddy finds me, he'll be very angry and he'll…" They seemed to lose the connection for a moment.

"Hello? Hello? Are you still there?"

More intermittent crying filled the line and everyone in the A/V lab sighed in relief when they heard Alison come back on the line.

"It's going to be all right, okay? We're going to come and get you. But I need help to find you, okay? What's your name, sweetheart?"

"A-Alison K-Kessler," the little girl had said between sobs.

"At that point her name got flagged on the computer and realising who she was talking to, dispatch raised the alarm," Brass explained quickly.

"Okay, Alison. We've been looking for you; I'm glad to be speaking with you. Are you all right? Are you safe talking now?"

"Yes… I'm … but I don't have long and…" There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a pause and then Alison's crying intensified.

Heather brought one hand over her mouth and without thinking reached for Brass's hand with the other. The police captain squeezed it in return as he tried to offer a little comfort before deciding to make his gesture more meaningful. Turning his head he offered Heather what he hoped was a comforting smile.

Dispatch's voice came back on. "It's all right sweetheart. You're being very brave. Can you tell me whether Dr Grissom is with you?"

"Who?"

"Dr Grissom. Gil Grissom? Is he being kept with you?"

"It's horrible… I can't hear him anymore." Obviously panic-stricken, Alison was crying so much, she was almost hyperventilating and she hiccupped for air, muffling her answer.

"Alison? I need you to calm down for me, okay? You need to stay calm." After a moment in silence, with only Alison's abating crying in the background, dispatch came back on the line. "Take a deep breath for me now, sweetie. That's right. Good girl. I need to know where you are. Can you tell me where you are? Do you have an address?"

"No. We moved," Alison cried into the phone, her crying turning into a hiccup-filled whisper. "You've…got…help us, please."

Concerned she was going to be cut off at any moment, dispatch's tone became more urgent. "Alison? You're breaking up, sweetie; please you need to speak up. We're coming to help you, okay? But first you need to help us. Are you in a house? In the city? In the desert?"

Alison's crying seemed to calm as she carefully thought about the answer to the question. "We're in a house, not far from the lake."

"The lake? Do you know which lake that is?"

"Lake…Grandpa's …is moored."

"Lake Mead? Alison? Is it Lake Mead? I can't hear you. You need to speak up. Did you say Lake Mead?"

Heather was frantically nodding her head in response. "Jerome's boat," she whispered to Brass.

"… I recognise the … in the sky and…"

"Alison? You're breaking up again. Can you repeat what you just said?"

"…the men in the sky…Come quick…"

"Alison? Alison? Damn! If you can, keep the line open, okay? Keep the phone on! We're coming to get you. Stay with me."

"That's it," said Archie. "Then she got cut off completely."

Looking tired, Brass sighed as he rubbed his face. "Dispatch tried calling her back but she couldn't get connected. Either Alison switched the phone off or it's out of charge."

The remaining four people stood there, stunned into their own introspective silence, busy mentally replaying and dissecting the message.

Nick was the first one to speak. "Archie? I think there was something after "I don't have long". Could you isolate and intensify that part?"

"Hum…let me see." Archie pressed a few keys to cue the recording to the right place before playing it back.

Alison's voice came on first. "Yes… I'm … but I don't have long and…" And then just before her tears intensified, they heard an unidentified muffled sound in the background.

"There!" Nick said. "Did you hear that?"

"It's not a noise," Sara said. "It's…another voice…a male voice maybe?"

Archie tapped on his keyboard, attempting to isolate the different tones of voice. Then he replayed that section again.

"What was that?" Sara asked. "Na-tha-lie?"

Nick shook his head. "No. It sounded more like Verity or-"

"Valerie," Heather whispered loudly. "And the male voice is McCormick's," she added, her words laced with a mixture of dread and undisguised loathing and anger. "I'm going to kill him, Jim. If I lay my hands on that sorry son of a bitch, he's going to wish he'd never set foot in my Dominion. I'm going to thrash him till he begs me for mercy and I can assure you he won't be getting any pleasure out-"

"Well, this only confirms McCormick's our man," Brass interrupted with a sigh. "Archie, can you compare his voice to that of the phone message Heather received?"

"Sure."

"What about a location?" Sara asked the A/V tech. "Could you trace Grissom's phone to a specific area?"

Archie nodded, clearing his throat a little uncomfortably while tapping on the keyboard. A map of the area north-east of Boulder city and west of the lower side of Lake Mead toward Hemenway Harbor appeared. "The best I've been able to do is narrow the call down to that zone," he said pointing to a circled area on the map. "It sort of tallies with what Alison says-"

"It's still too wide a search area though," said Sara, with a shake of the head. "We're talking several square miles here." She sighed. "What do you think she meant by men in the sky?" She turned enquiringly toward Nick and recognised the deep-etched frown on his face as he studied the map on the screen. "Nick? What are you thinking?"

"Huh?" The CSI refocused his attention before turning to address Brass specifically. "Remember the case of the paraglider that fell out of the sky?"

Brass shook his head, silently asking 'should I?' "Refresh me."

"La lluvia de pesces? Man falls out of the sky, lands on the sidewalk, found by a couple of skater boys? Altimeter tampered with?"

Brass nodded with a sceptical frown.

"Well," Nick shrugged a little self-consciously, "right after that case, I took up paragliding, you know? in my free time, a way to wind down…Anyway. Me and my buddies, on a clear day, with just the right climatic conditions we like to fly just there," he said pointing meaningfully to a spot just north of the circled area on the map. "We get the best views of Lake Mead from there. Go too far and you lose the thermals. It's a long shot but-"

"No, it's something," Sara said. "I say we concentrate our search there."

"The area's still too wide for me to get a search warrant though," intoned Brass.

"We can do door to door until we find McCormick and the house he's keeping them in," Sara retorted.

"But if McCormick doesn't answer the door we're none the wiser; we have no idea who is accomplice is or looks like, well apart from the fact that she might be called Valerie," Brass said. "I can't just go pounding on every door and search every house in that neighbourhood, Sara. It's just not possible."

"Maybe Catherine's had some luck as regards IDing the accomplice," Nick added. "Mandy's running the prints she collected from McCormick's house. Maybe this Valerie's in the system."

"I'll go," Heather said. "I'll go door to door. I'll ask to speak to Stephen. I'll go to him."

"I can't let you do that," Brass replied. "I can't let you walk into the wolf's mouth. It's too dangerous. Besides, you're a civilian, it just wouldn't work."

"Jim, there's no other way," Heather said with confidence. "You've done all you can here. You can fit me with a wire or a video link or whatever it is you guys use," she said, looking at Archie while she talked. The latter shrugged, nodding his head in response. "But I'm doing this."

"I think it could work," Sara said after some consideration. "McCormick will find it hard to resist the lure."

"It's out of the question," Brass said. "This isn't the Cagney and Lacey show!"

"I'd do it," Sara continued with her train of thoughts as though Brass hadn't spoken, "but I don't think he'd fall for the bait."

"I agree," Heather concurred. "McCormick's a narcissist predator who relishes the prospect of a good chase preferably involving pain. And he's been after me all this time. I know exactly which buttons to push to get him to crawl out of his hole."

"No, no, no. We'll find another way," Brass said curtly as he shook his head, expecting it to be the final word on the matter.

"Not in time," Sara sighed. She narrowed her eyes and abruptly turned round to look at the captain in the eye. "Okay then, let's hear it! What better plan can you come up with, huh?"

"This is madness," the police captain muttered trying to curb his rising temper. "We don't even know we're in the right area and if we are, all it'll do is play right into his hands. It'll never work!"

"We can't just sit back and wait while they…" Sara was shaking her head when suddenly she stopped as she realised the reason behind Brass's hesitation. She stared at him for a moment too long before throwing him a small disappointed smile. "Oh, I get it. I know what this is about. I've never known you to be action-shy like this before, Jim. Are you sure your reluctance isn't a front for something else?" she asked looking pointedly from Brass to Heather, leaving no doubt as to the significance of her words. "Because I can't think of a single valid reason why you wouldn't be willing to in there guns blazing-"

"That's not fair, Sara and it's uncalled for," Brass retorted gruffly. "Of course I want nothing more than find and rescue them, but not at the cost of lives. Not if it means putting Heather's life at risk or yours for that matter."

However angry she was, Sara could see that she was breaking the older man's resolve and delivered her coup de grâce. "You heard Alison yourself. He's killing him, Jim. How much longer do you think he can last? He's been in the hands of that maniac for two days. We know he's injured. Isn't his life costly enough?" she paused in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm even having to do this, Jim."

Brass glanced at Nick in a silent bid for back-up but Nick pulled a dubitative face, shrugging. "I think we're only going to have one shot at this."

Seeing Brass hesitate, Heather told him, "I don't know why we're even having this discussion. I'm not one of you. I'm not in law enforcement; I don't have to abide by your rules and follow your orders or protocols. Besides I wouldn't even be breaking the law. Time's running out, Jim; time we don't have. I'm not changing my mind. Either I do this with police back up-"

"Or?" asked Brass, disgruntled by Heather's ultimatum.

"Or I'll do it on my own," Heather finished with determination. "My life won't be worth living if Ali dies – or Grissom for that matter – especially if I could have done something to prevent it."

Tbc.

A/N: I feel bad for Brass here and the way I've portrayed him in this chapter but in the end, he'll come good, I hope. I'm amazed at all the positive and wonderful and encouraging reviews for the last few chapters and I thank you all for it. Your support means a lot. Thank you. :-)

Now, I know I said I'd post on Friday but it's almost Friday here in the UK and it's already friday in Australia so...I hope you enjoyed chapter 36!