Hi guys. Thanks for your continued support and reviews. You do inspire me
to keep this up. I swear I'm trying to wrap this story in another chapter
or two. Enjoy. Hope you like this installment.
******************
Catherine and Warrick had ventured closer to the building when they'd heard the LVFD being ordered to stand down. Apparently, the fire had been contained. The three paramedic squads that had arrived a half-hour prior pulled up nearer to the rear door of the apartment complex. The squad vehicles were advanced life support units; the best field technology available. Three paramedics per unit trumped the standard two. The men and women made short work of grabbing drug boxes, monitors, backboards and stretchers, before heading into the building.
Nick and Greg, realizing their friends had moved substantially closer to the staging point, did so themselves.
"They've been in there long enough, don't ya think?" Nick drawled. The fatigue made his normally subdued accent much more pronounced.
Warrick smiled briefly. "You said it, cowboy." His words held no malice and Nick grinned back at him, their argument forgotten.
Two SWAT team members exited the building, stripping themselves of heavy vests and protective headgear as they walked.
Catherine stepped toward the sidewalk. "Hey, what's the situation in there?"
The two men looked at Catherine with questioning expressions.
"CSI Willows," she clarified.
Both men continued walking and peeling off gear, with one of them turning briefly toward her. "It's contained. Can't tell you about your people. One looked bad."
"Yeah, ok," Nick managed.
"Thanks for nothin'," Greg added as the men walked out of earshot.
"Easy, man," Warrick reminded. "Dude's just doin' his job."
Catherine chewed her lip in frustration. "I can't take this waiting crap!" Where the hell is Brass?"
"Hey, hey. C'mon, Cath, don't do this." Warrick moved to put his arm around her, but she dodged him.
"Don't do what? Don't be concerned for my friends?"
Warrick sighed and dropped his head as Catherine tipped a bottle of water to her mouth. She downed most of it then passed a hand across her brow. "I'm sorry, Warrick. I didn't mean that."
Looking up, he nodded and gave her a brief smile. She started to reach out for his hand, but there wasn't much time for apologies as Nick spoke up. "Hey, they're bringing somebody out."
Two paramedics carried Dunn to within a few feet of an ambulance. He was conscious, but groaning loudly, obviously in pain from the 3rd degree burns along one side of his body.
"Sonofabitch!" Catherine almost spat.
The paramedics attending to Dunn set-up multiple IV's and began to irrigate the burns.
"Take good care of him," Warrick cocked his head at the medics. "We want the motherfucker healthy for trial."
The CSI's had been so focused on Dunn, they hadn't seen Greg moving closer to the walkway leading from the building. He stood frozen as the gurney carrying Sara moved toward him.
"Sara?" He reached out a hand as if to touch her, but a paramedic quickly brushed him aside.
"Stand clear."
The commotion caught Catherine, Warrick and Nick's attention. They all wore expressions of disbelief as the medics stopped at the back of the second ambulance and continued working methodically on Sara. Catherine's eyes were glued to the ventilation bag being compressed in a rhythmic manner, forcing air into her lungs.
"She's not breathing," Nick whispered to himself.
Warrick turned away, resting his gaze on anything other than the surreal scene in front of him.
The paramedics quickly started multiple IV's and hooked her up to the portable monitors. "Ok, we've still got a weak pulse. Bradycardia. Keep up the ventilation. No evidence of spontaneous respiration. Fluid in the chest or collapsed lung," one reported.
"Fresh needle marks," his partner noted. "Let's get some Narcan on board and reverse any respiratory depression from the drugs."
**************************
Grissom leaned into the door going to the parking lot, pushing it open with the assistance of Jim Brass. Finding himself in the intense sunlight, he shielded his eyes with one hand while still scanning the abundance of rescue vehicles. He turned toward Brass, as if just remembering that he was with him.
"Where is she?"
"C'mon, Gil, we'll find her," Brass replied and slipped a steadying hand around Grissom's back. They slowly approached the other members of the team.
Warrick's eyes fell on the two men and noted that his supervisor was unnaturally pale. "Grissom?"
The others turned at the name and Catherine began to rush forward to greet the two. She stopped in her tracks as Brass shook his head.
"Gil?" she asked softly.
Grissom's attention turned to her. "Catherine, have you seen Sara? She was just inside with me. She was just in there." His tone was so calm and rational that it stunned Catherine to silence.
Nick fought to find his voice. "She's here, Griss." He motioned for Greg to move so that Grissom could see Sara.
"Thank you, Nick," the wounded CSI replied solemnly. He pulled away from Brass and walked slowly toward Sara and the paramedics. He stopped a few feet from the gurney, his eyes once again locked on her face as the paramedics continued to work, trading assessments back and forth. His mind filled with their words, but he couldn't register the meaning.
"Ok, Narcan working. Pulse stronger and in sinus rhythm. Still no spontaneous respiration."
"I'm going to try to withdraw some air from the chest cavity, see if we can give the right lung some room to expand."
A large needle was inserted into Sara's chest and the plunger on the syringe pulled back. Several seconds passed before the paramedic listening to Sara's chest looked up. "Hey, hey good. I've got some breath sounds here. She's hangin' in there. Let's transport."
"Don't wanna wait for the chopper?" his partner asked. "It's two minutes out."
"Nope, we'll be faster," came the answer.
They began to load Sara into the back of the ambulance and Grissom stepped forward, as if to touch her.
"Sir, you need to stand back, so we can get this woman to the hospital."
Brass and Warrick pulled Grissom away from the ambulance, as Sara was loaded and the doors closed. Within seconds the vehicle was gone, sirens mixing with the noisy activity of the parking lot.
"Gil, listen to me," Brass said evenly. "It looks like Sara's doing better. Trying to breathe on her own. Ok?"
Grissom nodded as Brass continued.
"The paramedics need to take care of you, my friend. You're bleeding and you're in shock."
Catherine motioned toward the third paramedic crew that had been standing somewhat back from the scene.
"I wanna see Dunn first?" Grissom stated.
"Man, let them look at you," Warrick spoke up.
"I have to tell him something."
Grissom caught sight of Dunn, still being treated, a few yards away from them. He approached as Brass followed closely. The man on the stretcher was still semi-conscious and in pain.
"Look at me, Dunn!' Grissom's raised voice startled everyone. When he finally caught the semi-glazed eyes of his former captor, the CSI leaned toward him.
"If Sara dies, I'll kill you."
Brass took a step toward him, but stopped cold when he saw Grissom lift his sweatshirt and pull a .38 revolver from his waistband.
"Gil, don't." The older cop edged forward slightly, not wanting to alarm anyone.
The gun remained at Grissom's side. 'And one other thing, Dunn. Nobody calls me Gilbert."
Grissom turned and handed the .38 to Brass who let out an audible sigh.
"I meant to give this to you earlier, Jim. It belongs to Charles."
"Jesus, SWATS been going crazy inside trying to find the weapon," Brass said, handing the gun over to the nearest officer.
"Sorry," Grissom managed before leaning against the side of the ambulance and sliding slowly to the pavement. He felt so cold and thirsty. Images played in his mind as reality faded to gray. His mind drifted back to Sara's head propped on his knee. The feeling and the words spoken. She loved him. The gray turned to black.
Brass and Catherine waved in the paramedics and stepped back. Grissom's head rolled to the side as he slipped into unconsciousness. His sweatshirt was quickly cut away, revealing his blood streaked chest and shoulder.
Catherine's eyes filled with tears as Brass gently pulled her into his arms. "He's going to be all right, Cath."
TBC
******************
Catherine and Warrick had ventured closer to the building when they'd heard the LVFD being ordered to stand down. Apparently, the fire had been contained. The three paramedic squads that had arrived a half-hour prior pulled up nearer to the rear door of the apartment complex. The squad vehicles were advanced life support units; the best field technology available. Three paramedics per unit trumped the standard two. The men and women made short work of grabbing drug boxes, monitors, backboards and stretchers, before heading into the building.
Nick and Greg, realizing their friends had moved substantially closer to the staging point, did so themselves.
"They've been in there long enough, don't ya think?" Nick drawled. The fatigue made his normally subdued accent much more pronounced.
Warrick smiled briefly. "You said it, cowboy." His words held no malice and Nick grinned back at him, their argument forgotten.
Two SWAT team members exited the building, stripping themselves of heavy vests and protective headgear as they walked.
Catherine stepped toward the sidewalk. "Hey, what's the situation in there?"
The two men looked at Catherine with questioning expressions.
"CSI Willows," she clarified.
Both men continued walking and peeling off gear, with one of them turning briefly toward her. "It's contained. Can't tell you about your people. One looked bad."
"Yeah, ok," Nick managed.
"Thanks for nothin'," Greg added as the men walked out of earshot.
"Easy, man," Warrick reminded. "Dude's just doin' his job."
Catherine chewed her lip in frustration. "I can't take this waiting crap!" Where the hell is Brass?"
"Hey, hey. C'mon, Cath, don't do this." Warrick moved to put his arm around her, but she dodged him.
"Don't do what? Don't be concerned for my friends?"
Warrick sighed and dropped his head as Catherine tipped a bottle of water to her mouth. She downed most of it then passed a hand across her brow. "I'm sorry, Warrick. I didn't mean that."
Looking up, he nodded and gave her a brief smile. She started to reach out for his hand, but there wasn't much time for apologies as Nick spoke up. "Hey, they're bringing somebody out."
Two paramedics carried Dunn to within a few feet of an ambulance. He was conscious, but groaning loudly, obviously in pain from the 3rd degree burns along one side of his body.
"Sonofabitch!" Catherine almost spat.
The paramedics attending to Dunn set-up multiple IV's and began to irrigate the burns.
"Take good care of him," Warrick cocked his head at the medics. "We want the motherfucker healthy for trial."
The CSI's had been so focused on Dunn, they hadn't seen Greg moving closer to the walkway leading from the building. He stood frozen as the gurney carrying Sara moved toward him.
"Sara?" He reached out a hand as if to touch her, but a paramedic quickly brushed him aside.
"Stand clear."
The commotion caught Catherine, Warrick and Nick's attention. They all wore expressions of disbelief as the medics stopped at the back of the second ambulance and continued working methodically on Sara. Catherine's eyes were glued to the ventilation bag being compressed in a rhythmic manner, forcing air into her lungs.
"She's not breathing," Nick whispered to himself.
Warrick turned away, resting his gaze on anything other than the surreal scene in front of him.
The paramedics quickly started multiple IV's and hooked her up to the portable monitors. "Ok, we've still got a weak pulse. Bradycardia. Keep up the ventilation. No evidence of spontaneous respiration. Fluid in the chest or collapsed lung," one reported.
"Fresh needle marks," his partner noted. "Let's get some Narcan on board and reverse any respiratory depression from the drugs."
**************************
Grissom leaned into the door going to the parking lot, pushing it open with the assistance of Jim Brass. Finding himself in the intense sunlight, he shielded his eyes with one hand while still scanning the abundance of rescue vehicles. He turned toward Brass, as if just remembering that he was with him.
"Where is she?"
"C'mon, Gil, we'll find her," Brass replied and slipped a steadying hand around Grissom's back. They slowly approached the other members of the team.
Warrick's eyes fell on the two men and noted that his supervisor was unnaturally pale. "Grissom?"
The others turned at the name and Catherine began to rush forward to greet the two. She stopped in her tracks as Brass shook his head.
"Gil?" she asked softly.
Grissom's attention turned to her. "Catherine, have you seen Sara? She was just inside with me. She was just in there." His tone was so calm and rational that it stunned Catherine to silence.
Nick fought to find his voice. "She's here, Griss." He motioned for Greg to move so that Grissom could see Sara.
"Thank you, Nick," the wounded CSI replied solemnly. He pulled away from Brass and walked slowly toward Sara and the paramedics. He stopped a few feet from the gurney, his eyes once again locked on her face as the paramedics continued to work, trading assessments back and forth. His mind filled with their words, but he couldn't register the meaning.
"Ok, Narcan working. Pulse stronger and in sinus rhythm. Still no spontaneous respiration."
"I'm going to try to withdraw some air from the chest cavity, see if we can give the right lung some room to expand."
A large needle was inserted into Sara's chest and the plunger on the syringe pulled back. Several seconds passed before the paramedic listening to Sara's chest looked up. "Hey, hey good. I've got some breath sounds here. She's hangin' in there. Let's transport."
"Don't wanna wait for the chopper?" his partner asked. "It's two minutes out."
"Nope, we'll be faster," came the answer.
They began to load Sara into the back of the ambulance and Grissom stepped forward, as if to touch her.
"Sir, you need to stand back, so we can get this woman to the hospital."
Brass and Warrick pulled Grissom away from the ambulance, as Sara was loaded and the doors closed. Within seconds the vehicle was gone, sirens mixing with the noisy activity of the parking lot.
"Gil, listen to me," Brass said evenly. "It looks like Sara's doing better. Trying to breathe on her own. Ok?"
Grissom nodded as Brass continued.
"The paramedics need to take care of you, my friend. You're bleeding and you're in shock."
Catherine motioned toward the third paramedic crew that had been standing somewhat back from the scene.
"I wanna see Dunn first?" Grissom stated.
"Man, let them look at you," Warrick spoke up.
"I have to tell him something."
Grissom caught sight of Dunn, still being treated, a few yards away from them. He approached as Brass followed closely. The man on the stretcher was still semi-conscious and in pain.
"Look at me, Dunn!' Grissom's raised voice startled everyone. When he finally caught the semi-glazed eyes of his former captor, the CSI leaned toward him.
"If Sara dies, I'll kill you."
Brass took a step toward him, but stopped cold when he saw Grissom lift his sweatshirt and pull a .38 revolver from his waistband.
"Gil, don't." The older cop edged forward slightly, not wanting to alarm anyone.
The gun remained at Grissom's side. 'And one other thing, Dunn. Nobody calls me Gilbert."
Grissom turned and handed the .38 to Brass who let out an audible sigh.
"I meant to give this to you earlier, Jim. It belongs to Charles."
"Jesus, SWATS been going crazy inside trying to find the weapon," Brass said, handing the gun over to the nearest officer.
"Sorry," Grissom managed before leaning against the side of the ambulance and sliding slowly to the pavement. He felt so cold and thirsty. Images played in his mind as reality faded to gray. His mind drifted back to Sara's head propped on his knee. The feeling and the words spoken. She loved him. The gray turned to black.
Brass and Catherine waved in the paramedics and stepped back. Grissom's head rolled to the side as he slipped into unconsciousness. His sweatshirt was quickly cut away, revealing his blood streaked chest and shoulder.
Catherine's eyes filled with tears as Brass gently pulled her into his arms. "He's going to be all right, Cath."
TBC