Alright, here's the seventh chapter for your enjoyment. Thanks always go to my betas Anne and Ash; feedback is always welcome. Thanks also to everyone who has taken the time out to write a review.

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The entrance to the building looked like a T from up above. From the door, you could go right towards the police or left towards the crime lab.

It was down this corridor that Nick was moving, his gun at the ready.

He was not prepared for what he saw just before the junction. Grissom was down on the floor, and he appeared to be bleeding from some head wounds. Sara was crunched down beside him, half trying to tend to his wounds and half trying to defend herself from the gunfire that still echoed in the lobby.

"What the hell is going on here, Sar?" Nick asked.

Sara pulled out her handkerchief and put it on Grissom's forehead, applying pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "We were on the way to join Brass when these two guys come out from the entrance. All of a sudden they pull out guns, and all hell broke loose." More buckshot hit one of the walls, showering the three with concrete dust.

Wordlessly, Nick moved over to the corner to try and deal with whoever was wrecking havoc.

Two guys – Nick thought they looked like they belonged to a gang – were in the middle of the lobby. They were both firing at anyone in sight, and he had to duck as a blast was fired in his direction.

Several police officers were in the opposite corridor, and they were not having any better luck. One of their own lay messily dead in the middle, hit during the first moments when the attackers had the benefit of surprise. Gunfire – both pistol fire from the cops and shotgun blasts from the thugs – sounded repeatedly, the noise seemingly louder in the relatively confined space.

The two thugs turned their attention to the uniformed cops, unloading shot after shot in their direction, sending dust into the air, blocking everyone's line of sight.

Except for Nick's. He peeked out from the corner, leveled his pistol, and fired two straight shots – known as a double-tap – at the nearest attacker.

What he could not have known was that his targets had been wearing body armor. It wasn't the thickest or most effective armor available, but it was enough to defeat the 9mm rounds that most police units used.

Luck, however, was on Nick's side. While one of the bullets hit the vest, the other round hit one spot the vest didn't cover – the armpit. The bullet went in squarely, entered the chest, and fatally injured the felon. With a shout, he went down, his finger pressing down on the trigger of his weapon, sending buckshot in all directions.

Nick ducked behind the wall again. An officer yelled in pain as pellets hit his leg, while his comrades pulled him to safety. A shard of concrete flying from the walls gashed Sara in the arm, causing her to curse out loud, catching Nick's attention.

"Sar, you all right?"

"I'm fine, just a scratch, but Grissom's not doing so well. Bleeding isn't stopping."

"Dammit," Nick swore. He slid out the empty magazine from his gun, and slapped in another one he took from his belt.

"Here," Sara said, tossing Nick a magazine from her belt. He slipped it into the space where his spare previously had been.

The gunfire seemed to cease for a moment, and Nick took a look around the corner again. He saw that the felon was trying to reload his weapon with one hand while firing at the cops with the other. He was so distracted he didn't even know Nick was there.

He soon found out – the hard way. Nick had moved from his covering place, took aim, and fired another double-tap. He had barely begun turning towards Nick when the two rounds hit him squarely in the face. As he fell backwards, more bullets from the officers' guns completed the job. He crashed through the glass panels and fell onto the hard pavement outside.

As Nick and several officers approached the bodies, Brass came running up from the police station with more cops behind him. The footsteps echoed in the corridors, and Sara turned at the sound.

Brass began surveying the disaster area that was the lobby. One dead cop, two dead assailants. One officer was wounded, but it looked to be a minor flesh wound. It was painful, but not life threatening.

It took him a moment to see Sara in the corridor leading to the crime lab. She was still tending to Grissom, one hand holding his while the other held the bloodied handkerchief on his forehead.

The look in Sara's eyes was one Brass thought he would never see. It was a look of worry and... fear. He had known her for four years and never thought she could be afraid of anything.

When he saw who she was tending to, he instantly understood why she felt that way. Years of police training kicked in; there would be time for emotions later. He grabbed a radio from a nearby officer, and spoke into it. "Dispatch, this is Captain James Brass. We have a shooting at the eastern entrance. Multiple officers down, repeat, multiple officers down. Send rescue ASAP."

---

Catherine and Warrick had been out working a double when the shooting taken place, but they had heard it over the radio. They had turned around and gotten back to the lab in record time, but when they arrived they saw Sara climbing into an ambulance, with the EMTs helping her up. The door slammed shut and the ambulance ran off, sirens blaring.

"Man, this is not good," Warrick said as they looked at the gaggle of patrol cars and other emergency vehicles that crowded the area. It felt ridiculous, almost surreal, that a building housing law enforcement could become a crime scene.

The two entered the ruined lobby, where they saw Nick, David, and Brass. Brass and David were kneeling over the body of the dead officer.

"Hey, you OK, man?" Warrick asked Nick.

"Yeah, I think. I'm fine, so's Sara. I dunno about Grissom, though," Nick said.

"Wait, wait. No one said anything about Grissom. Where is he? What happened here?" Catherine said, clearly alarmed and agitated.

Brass rose and faced the two. "Grissom and Sara were heading for the PD when two guys came into the lobby and pulled out shotguns. Grissom got hit in the head and an officer was killed with the first shots. Nick and other officers managed to kill them before they got any further into the building."

"Where's Grissom? And Sara? What's their condition?" Catherine asked.

"Grissom is on his way to Desert Palm, condition is serious but not life-threatening. Sara is fine except for a superficial gash on her shoulder," Brass answered, as he saw Sheriff Atwater heading their way. "Excuse me, the sheriff's here," he said as he left to speak to their boss.

When they were alone, it was finally Catherine who first spoke. "I don't like the sound of this at all. And that's even without considering that it's Grissom and Sara who got hurt this time. We're just damn lucky that one – or both – of them isn't dead."

"Could have been any one of us, Cath," Warrick said. "Don't kick yourself too badly, it's not your fault."

"Yeah, but, it's Grissom, man," Nick said. "Let's face it, we all owe him, one way or another, for where we are right now. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"I know, Nick, I know," Warrick said. "It's just seems like it couldn't happen here. In the field, sure, but that's why we all carry. But right in the lab?" He shook his head.

"Anything can happen to anyone, Warrick," Catherine said. "Even Grissom."

"Hey guys?" David said. He had moved over to one of the dead suspects, and was pointing to a tattoo on his arm. "Anyone recognize this?"

Warrick looked at the tattoo closely. "Oh yeah, I know this one," he said. "Coyotes. Relatively small gang, but violent as hell. They're gonna be famous now, going after cops in their own house," he added.

"Not if we have anything to say about it," Brass said. He had rejoined them after talking with the sheriff. "Cops don't like cop killers. Coyotes are going to be out of business soon."

"Sheriff tell you anything important, Jim?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah. Your serial criminal, the one Grissom's after – he called it in to the TV stations, like he did the Rampart job. To prove he's talking the real deal, he gave the weapons used and the gang that carried out the hit – minutes after the shooting stops, and before anyone could have known."

The three looked at Brass, all aghast at the newest bit of information. "Dammit," Catherine said, saying what everyone present was thinking.

He is one sick bastard, going after us, Catherine thought. Gil, I've known him for as long as I've been a CSI and he taught me every trick in the book. Sara, well, we've had our differences, but she's still family, of sorts anyways. And she's still a damn good CSI. Maybe even better than me.

"So, now what?" Nick asked. "We've got to do something. We can't just sit here and do nothing."

"Yeah," Catherine said. "I'll head off to Desert Palm and check in on them. Find Greg and process this whole scene. Find out what in the world exactly happened here."

Both men nodded and began working the scene. Catherine got into her SUV and drove off for Desert Palm, trying to get there as fast as she could to check up on the status of her friends and colleagues.

---

Sara was sitting in the waiting room holding a paper bag. Inside was all of Grissom's clothes and other personal effects; the doctors had removed it all before bringing him in for surgery.

A part of her still wasn't sure what had happened back in the lab. You think you'd be a good witness, but no. Humans are fallible creatures, and just because you're a CSI doesn't mean you're going to remember things under extreme stress better than anyone else.

Her gaze moved to the door the doctors would come from. They say the injuries aren't life-threatening, but... I don't know. I was... scared, to be honest. And not just for myself. I was afraid I'd lose him, too.

His hand was in mine for the entire ride. I couldn't understand what he was saying through the oxygen mask, but I could swear his hand was squeezing mine, as if he was holding on.

Holding on. That's what I've been doing for as long as I can remember. Holding on to the hope that there was something for me here in Las Vegas. Holding on to the hope that something could happen between you and Grissom.

I've wanted to give up before, but not now. Not when things seem to be getting better. Not when it seems my hope hasn't all been for naught. Not when he needs me.

Catherine entered the waiting room just then. While they weren't exactly the best of friends, the blonde could see the emotional turmoil Sara was going through.

That was close. Too damn close. When was the last time we had a CSI injured? One or two years ago... when I was attacked at a crime scene. When was the last time someone was shot? Holly Gribbs, more than four years ago. I don't know if Brass and Grissom have ever forgiven themselves for that.

We simply lucked out this time. If there's one thing you learn in Vegas, it's you can't count on luck.

She took a seat beside the brunette, who turned and acknowledged her presence with a nod and an upward twitch of her lips that was the closest thing to a smile Sara could put together at the moment. The two waited for the doctor to come out and bring them news.

It seemed like an eternity, but finally the door leading to the operating room opened and the doctor walked out, still wearing surgical greens.

The two women stood up quickly. "I suppose you're both here about Mr. Grissom," the surgeon said. "Are you family or friends, or...?"

"Catherine Willows and Sara Sidle, Las Vegas Crime Lab. We both work with him."

"Ah, yes. You'll both be pleased to know that he's fine. We fixed the damage the buckshot caused-"

"Wait a minute. We were never told what the extent of his injuries were. What damage?" Sara asked, a tinge of anger in her voice.

"Mr. Grissom was hit with several shotgun pellets. Some passed through his forehead, one grazed his nose, and two more his chin. In any case, none of them were life-threatening, although the forehead wounds did cause a fair amount of bleeding," the doctor said. "Head wounds that aren't deadly tend to be bleeders. He's now out of surgery and recuperating."

"Can we see him?" Catherine asked.

"Just one problem. He is extremely sensitive to anesthesia – he'll be out of it for a few hours, I'm afraid. Aside from that, you can see him now. We'll be moving him to a private room soon, however, so I would suggest you wait until then."

"I won't," Sara announced firmly. "Where is he?"

The doctor gave in and told Sara where Grissom could be found. Armed with that information, Sara stormed off.

"Did you remove any pellets from him?" Catherine asked.

The doctor shook his head. "No. None of the pellets remained in his body."

"Alright. Here's my calling card, keep me informed of any developments."

"Will do. Excuse me, I have to go back inside." With that, the doctor made his way to the operating room.

Catherine got her cell phone from her purse and flipped it open. She had many phone calls to make.

---

Warrick hung up the phone in the A/V lab. "That was Catherine," he said to Archie. "Grissom's out of surgery and they're moving him into a private room now."

"What about Sara? Isn't she at Desert Palm too?"

"Yeah. She's okay, she's probably staying with Grissom until this whole thing gets fixed," Warrick said. "Back to the video. How many cameras do we have?"

"Four. The entire system is digital, so I don't have to deal with tapes. Two in the lobby and one looking down each corridor. I've synchronized them all and set them to just before the shooting."

"Alright, let's see it."

For several minutes the only sound in the room was the light whirring of fans as the entire series of events played out on the screen. Archie stopped the tape at the moment that Brass had called for help.

Warrick shook this head before speaking. "Back it up to just before the shooting begins. Slow-motion, Archie."

The tech complied. "Stop," Warrick said, just as Grissom, Sara, and one of the officers were all lying on the floor. "Did you see that?"

"I think I did," Archie said. He replayed the video in slow motion again. "There's our bad guys coming into the lobby. Grissom and Sara enter the lobby on the way to the PD. Now, they pull out shotguns and Grissom... freezes?"

"Just because he's our boss doesn't make him any less human," Warrick said, "even if it sometimes doesn't seem that way. Natural reaction."

Archie nodded. "Sara spots the two gangbangers. She turns, and..." The tech's voice faded as both he and Warrick silently watched the video.

On the screen before them, in slow motion, Sara turned as she saw the two attackers in the lobby – with their guns up and pointed at the people in the room. She also saw that Grissom wasn't moving, seemingly transfixed at the sight before him but unable to take action.

It was Sara who took action. She spun around and used every muscle in her body to throw Grissom and herself down to the floor. She did so in time – as Grissom's body began to fall down towards the floor, the shotgun blast that had been aimed squarely at his head missed him, but only just. As it was, some pellets had still hit his face.

He had fared much better than the officer who was out in the lobby at the same time. He had seen the attackers at the same time Sara had, but his first instinct had been to reach for his gun. The officer paid for it with his life; the full force of the shotgun blast killed him on the spot.

Archie stopped the tape soon after. They didn't need to see any more. The tech turned to Warrick, who had an even more thoughtful look on him than usual.

"If Sara hadn't reacted the way she did – or if she had been just one moment too late – Grissom would have suffered the same fate of that officer who died. She literally saved Grissom's life."

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To be continued...