1Disclaimer: If I owned anything but my ideas, I wouldn't have to worry about taking out student loans every semester. So, please, no one sue me for borrowing someone else's characters and returning them safely before their curfew.
Special Thanks: To lj user"imaginaryfields" for her beta. She went above and beyond the call of duty on this one. Also to everyone from LJ and who reviewed.
Special Request: Please, please, please leave a comment telling my what you thought, even if you hated it. Also, if there is something that you would like to see happen, write that down, too, as I may make your wish come true. :o)
Author's Note: Yea, the chapter is short. There is only so much you can write about people meeting and gearing up to go to a scene. I promise that chapter 2 will not only be longer, but will contain the crime scene that everyone is anxiously awaiting!
BLOODY HELL
Chapter 1
Gil Grissom hadn't wanted to call his team in so early, but he was left little choice. After a startling call from Sandy Lewis, he had dialed up the paramedics to get their version. Thinking that the dispatcher was just overreacting, Gil wasn't prepared for what Hank Peddigrew had to say. There had been no overreacting; the situation was just that bad.
The stocky man gave himself just enough time to shower and change into his usual garb, black polo shirt and dress slacks, before making a few calls to his team members. He made sure that Catherine and Sara would contact Nick, Warrick, and Greg before heading to the crime lab.
As everyone arrived, Grissom couldn't help but notice that something was not quite right with Greg. Not normally one to put his curiosity before the task at hand, Gil asked, "Greg? Is that blood on the front of your shirt?"
Puzzled, Greg looked down, signing in frustration. "Damn it! This is one of my favorite shirts. Now they've gone and ruined that, too."
Not understanding what he was taking about, Catherine said, "What happened?"
"Some drunk tourists decided it would be fun to see how small of a compact car they could make mine." Greg ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in the front.
"But don't you have a compact car? A VW Jetta?" Sara asked, remembering that she had complimented him on his car choice once before.
"Exactly," he said. "Only now, it's a tuna can."
"But you've, uh...have you been cleared for work?" Grissom asked. "You were examined and it's okay for you to be here, right?" He was upset that Greg had been in an accident, but he mind was still his conversations with Sandy and Hank over and over in his head.
Greg nodded. "Yeah, I'm cool. I just need to get a rental after shift."
"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Grissom replied, smiling briefly at the young man. Greg had annoyed him with his loud music and crazy antics when he had first started working as a DNA technician, but the lovable 29-year-old and grown on him. Gil was now proud to call him a member of his team.
Refocusing on the task at hand, Grissom began. "I'm sorry to have called you in so early, but this needs to be taken care of while the scene is still fresh and the press hasn't gotten hold of it."
"I got a call from Sandy in dispatch around noon. She received a 421 call and dispatched two paramedics to the Rampart Hotel. About twenty minutes later, she got a call back from the EMTs suggesting that this team be contacted and start processing the scene immediately."
"I called the paramedic on the scene, Hank Peddigrew." At this, Sara winced. She was still not quite over how Hank had used her to cheat on his girlfriend. Catherine, noticing her expression, gave the woman a smile, as if to say, "I'm here for you."
Grissom continued. "They were hoping that this would be a routine call. It's appears to be anything but," he sighed. "I don't have any specific details, but I do know that the scene involves multiple victims and a lot of blood. Today, this is the only crime scene in Vegas. I've already talked to Ecklie and asked for him to have a couple CSIs from days and swing to come in and take any cases that may arise tonight."
Hearing this, everyone was able to gauge just how serious this call was. Grissom never talked to Ecklie unless he was forced to, let alone ask the Assistant Director for any help.
"How many?" Sara chimed in.
"The body count is five."
Catherine waved a hand. "You said we need to process the scene while it's still fresh?"
Grissom nodded again. "I was told that blood pools found on the floor had barely begun to coagulate. The 911 call most likely came before the last victim was killed."
"Take about cutting it close," Nick said.
The six criminalists stood and all but Greg and Gil moved toward the exit. Greg walked over to where his supervisor was standing. "Can I ask you something?"
Grissom gave his newest team member a half-smile. "You can always ask me anything, Greg."
Taking a deep breath, the former lab tech asked, "Just how much blood is 'a lot?'"
"Well, you probably won't be wanting to cook raw red meat anytime soon." Greg gulped. "Have you ever considers becoming a vegetarian?" On that note, Grissom exited the break room living Greg alone to muster up any and all of his courage.