In a desolated area of the industrial district, Grissom followed the flashing lights of emergency vehicles to the warehouse. An ambulance was parked near the front entrance and a young man sat on a gurney, holding a compress to his temple and looking around, dazed. The squad car Brass had sent had become four.

"I'm here," Grissom told Nick on the cellphone before hanging up. Hurrying to the open entrance, he held up the ID dangling around his neck to avoid any arguments and didn't slow down until he saw Nick around the corner.

"Still nothing," Nick informed him, his face dark. "This place is bare. If she was here, we'd know it."

"Surrounding area?"

"Police are spreading out now."

"The blood?"

"Still warm. I had a uniform take a sample to Greg. We have Sara's file in the computer. If it's hers, we'll know soon."

And that was it. The basics, all he really needed to know at the moment, and it didn't help a damn bit.

A streak of color caught his eye and he walked to the far end of the building, recognizing Sara's kit. It was opened, items carefully spread out. The elevator door was partially dusted. The pot of red dusting powder –his own invention and Sara's personal favorite- lay to one side, knocked over, the splash of red fanning out across the ground.

"What about the evidence?"

"It's not here either. You said there was a ton, right? We haven't found a single taped print."

Control was spreading through his mind. This was work. This is what he did best.

"Alright, we're treating this as a kidnapping, which means our window of opportunity is small. Get your kit from the car. Work smart, work fast."

"You?"

"I wanna talk to the officer that was supposed to protect Sara."

Nick wisely sidestepped as Grissom barreled towards the entrance. Outside, Grissom interrupted the officer reporting to another cop with a curt, "What happened here?"

The young man looked over with spooked eyes. "I-I was just giving my statement to Officer Karmen."

"Forget Officer Karmen," he snapped. "Sara Sidle is still out there and my team is her best shot. Now tell me everything. Why weren't you with her?"

"I tried checking with her, ev-every 20 minutes, but she got testy so I wan-wanted to give her space. It's just me and the perimeter's huge, so I thought I'd walk around, make sure everything was fine." He shrank under Grissom's glare. "I came back to check on her about 10 minutes ago. That's when I was hit from behind."

"How long was she alone?"

"The warehouse is so big, and the grounds go even further and—"

"How long?!"

"...Maybe five hours."

Grissom had never wanted to punch somebody so badly.

Two steadying breaths to prevent getting pulled from the scene, and then, "Did you see anything that might help us?"

The officer shook his head. "Nothing. There's no traffic this far out. Nothing."

"Except the attacker."

"Grissom." He barely looked over to acknowledge Catherine. "Warrick was right behind me. Greg is packing up some tools; just call and he'll go wherever."

His sense of control slipped a little. There was a hint of panic in his voice. "We don't know where she is."

"I know. Brass told us."

The officer adjusted his ice pack. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"You've done plenty," Grissom growled. "Thanks."

"Sir—"

"Don't do it," Catherine warned, pulling Grissom away by his forearm. She found a spot away from the noise of police cruiser radios and asked in a low voice, "Can you handle this?"

"...Yeah."

"Okay. Tell us what to do."

"Have Warrick help Nick inside. I need you scouring the outside of the building. I wanna know how he got in and out, now."

"What are you gonna do?"

For a moment, Grissom looked completely lost, glancing around at all the activity with uncertainty. Realizing that she was losing him, she pulled him by the arm again, gentler this time. "Get your kit," she commanded softly. "We can get the perimeter done in half the time." He nodded and walked towards his vehicle while she pulled the kit from her own.

Grissom fumbled with the kit, quickly checking each compartment to be sure everything was there. Of course, Grissom thought. I haven't touched it since yesterday. Since the interview with Sara.

Sara.

Catherine appeared beside him. "Warrick and Nick are still working, but from what they can tell, there's only the pool of blood. No drops. The wound was covered before the bleeder moved."

He nodded. Evidence. Facts. The control was coming back. "Anything else?"

"Nothing from Greg yet."

"Okay. You go east, I'll take west. Cover the perimeter as quickly as possible. The crime's only half an hour old; the evidence will be fresh."

She nodded. "Shout if you find—" The blare of a siren stopped her. One of the cruisers sped off as an officer ran up to them.

"We may have a lead."

"Where?" Grissom shouted over the sudden cacophony of sirens.

"Ten blocks south. Business owner reported black smoke coming from an empty storage building. Strange car speeding away." Grissom shot around and looked to the horizon. Sure enough, he saw thin dark lines etching the sky. He slammed the back door shut and got in up front. "Get the others," he told Catherine. With a squeal of tires he was gone before she could respond.

He followed the group of cruisers, the smoke growing more visible every second.

Be there, Sara. Be fine. Be safe. Sara....

They pulled up to the building, smoke still billowing up, and officers flooded the front entrance. Grissom was right behind them, understanding the need for them to be first but unwilling to stay behind. There were doors and hallways everywhere, and smoke shifting down to eye level in an already-darkened room.

Dark save a white spot past the smoky flames of burning debris in the middle of the room.

A back entrance, Grissom realized. He spun around and ran outside, circling the building as the ambulance arrived in the parking lot behind him.

The building's lot was surrounded by rough desert growth, waist-high, and for all he knew, Sara's attacker was hiding somewhere in front of him.

Be fine, Sara. Be okay. Please be okay, Sa—

Sara?

"Sara?!" A gap in the growth ahead and a head of brown hair, barely visible.

He ran even harder, made it to her, indistinct yelling and sirens blaring behind them.

Softer this time, but still urgent. "Sara?" He slipped to his knees at her side.

Sara, sprawled on the ground, partial fetal position, pale as snow, face and arms scratched.

He checked her pulse, her breathing. Both slow but steady. He shed his jacket and draped it over her, shouting for the paramedics, darting looks around for whoever had hurt her.

"You're safe. I'm here. We're here. You're safe, honey. It's gonna be okay. You're safe, Sara." Help arrived and paramedics moved him aside as the gurney was lowered beside her.