Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.

I'm not feeling too well. Maybe it's because school is a mere three weeks away.Has anyone noticed that GSR, which stands for Grissom/Sara Romance, is also the abbreviation for Gun shot residue? Coincidence? I think not. Oh and again I am not going to kill off Sofia and/or Ecklie. I'm sorry.

They heard the explosion before they saw it. Then a dark cloud of ash and debris rose into the sky, a sign of the apocalypse if there ever was one. Sara's heart sunk to her toes and she would have screamed had there not been a lump the size of Texas lodged in her throat. Her knuckles turned white where she dug them into the door and center console.

Greg stopped the car a block from the motel and for a moment they could only stare as flames poured out of a massive hole in the side of the motel. Even in the early morning hours there were still people coming out of surrounding businesses and homes, but none from the building in question.

In the distant sirens blared and soon fire engines and police were in place in front of the motel. Police backed the crowd to a safe distance. Most had a look of panic, confusion, or curiosity, but one man stood apart from the rest. His hair was buzzed and from his stance he looked ready to receive orders from a drill sergeant.

Sara would have overlooked had it not been for one small detail; a tattoo on the back of his neck. When the man turned she glanced away but her awareness of him had the hair standing on the back of her neck.

Greg tried to speak but words escaped him. And as firefighters started to bring people out of the wreckage they slowly got out of the car. Some of the people were fine, with barely a scratch, but then there were others who had to be carried out. Both were hoping for the best, but feared the worst.

Suddenly someone grabbed her shoulder and Sara's mind automatically went back to the man with the tattoo. She spun to face her would be attacker, only it wasn't him.

Ignoring any form of professionalism she launched herself into his arms, grateful when his arms cocooned her in his warmth. Her voice was muffled, but could be easily deciphered. "I thought he killed you. You weren't answering your cell."

"I forgot to charge it. It's ok now." He turned to Sofia and a relieved Greg who were standing awkwardly a few feet away. "Sofia, could you drive back to the lab with Greg?"

She nodded.

Grissom started to lead Sara to his SUV when she stopped. "Wait. Look at that crowd of people over there. Do you see a man standing near a squad car with a buzz cut and a tattoo on the back of his neck?"

"Yeah. That's Kevin Guzman. He used to be the head of the Tactical Unit."

"He's also the man that kidnapped me."

After Grissom and Sara were both inside his SUV he took her hand. "Are you sure it's Guzman?"

"Yes. Remember that list I gave you? On it I wrote down 'an eagle on top of the world.' It matches the tattoo on the back of his neck."

"Ok. If it is him the evidence will show us."

"Griss, we don't have time for the evidence. He's following us. And if he continues in this pattern he will become more and more reckless. And he won't stop until we're dead."

A little while later they were all in the conference room. Grissom was pacing, Sofia looking over the evidence, Greg leaning back in his chair with his feet on the table, and Sara was rubbing her temples.

Grissom stopped near the whiteboard, "Ok, let's go over this; Starting with the murder of Melissa Davis. There isn't any evidence that places Guzman at the scene. The hairs we found are too long to be his."

"They could belong to his wife or even his son, if they were on his clothes at the time." Sofia said.

"True, but I doubt we could get a warrant based on that."

Greg spoke next, "What about the yellow paint chips?"

"Hodges was supposed to be looking that up." Grissom walked over to the intercom on the wall. "Hodges, get over to the conference room, now. And bring the results from the Davis fence." As an after thought he added, "Please."

A few moments later Hodges came in with an exasperated look on his face. "You know, I'm just right down the hall. You didn't have to yell at me over the intercom. But since you said please…" He handed a sheet of paper to Grissom and then explained to everyone, "The paint on the fence matches that of which Chevy used on their 2003 Tahoe. To save you time I ran the info through the DMV and came up with three names."

Grissom quickly scanned the paper. "Guess who's on the top of the list. Greg, run this over to Brass."

"You got it." Greg hopped up and hurried out of the room.

"Ok while he's doing that let's move on. We know that Sara was taken around one in the morning and found two days later near I-95." He marked the spot on a map centered on the table. "The officer that found her said she was heading south and in her condition was probably walking two miles an hour. Doctor Ericsson estimated she'd been outside about three hours."

Sofia took the marker and drew a large circle. "Which gives us this area. That's 28 square miles, Gil."

"That's a lot of land."

"Yes, but with a whole lot of nothing. It looks like the only area with any houses is here…"

Sara shook her head. "No, that's not it. I remember screaming. If I was held in a residential area someone would have phoned the cops."

"But there's nothing else out there."

The silence that followed was one of deep concentration.

Sofia suddenly had an idea. "What about that old house that gangsters used back in the forties? It's supposed to be sealed off, but anyone that watches the Travel channel would know about it."

Grissom drummed his fingers. "Well, it's worth a look. I'll get Brass to clear it. Sara—"

"Forget it. I'm coming with you."

I'm trying to end this before I have to help my mom with the 1-27 sale. The world's longest garage sale. Say it with me, yay.