Chapter 8
The ramshackle log cabin had a large front porch, and was surrounded by tall pines, so the law enforcement officials had sufficient cover to stealthily approach the building. The CSIs remained down the road, hidden by trees, anxiously waiting.
Catherine bit her lip then nervously asked Brass, "Do you think he's…alive?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. God I hope so. My impression is that Isaac wanted to taunt Grissom, to make him suffer needlessly the way he felt that he suffered in prison. So keeping him alive would suit those purposes. However, this guy isn't exactly known for his self control."
After listening to the reports from the officers, Brass explained to the CSIs, "They've confirmed that Isaac is in there. They can also see Grissom through a window, but they can't tell if he's alive or not." He put on a bulletproof vest and grabbed a bullhorn. "Wish me luck."
Brass approached the cabin, and stood near an abandoned rusty vehicle which was most likely used for spare parts; he was in plain sight of the porch. Using the bullhorn, he announced, "Isaac Hayes, we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up."
There was no response. The sharp shooters began to angle for a vantage point to take out Isaac, if necessary.
Brass attempted to reason with him, if such a thing was possible. "If your hostage is still alive, your sentence will be lighter." He briefly considered discussing the consequences if Grissom was already dead, but he didn't want to add any fuel to that fire, or actively acknowledge that possibility.
Marcus, handcuffed to a uniformed officer, approached Brass. "Let me try."
"Any funny stuff and you go away for a very long time," Brass sternly reminded him in a tone that would brook no nonsense.
Using the bullhorn, Marcus said, "Isaac, it's over man. Get out before you make it worse."
Apparently Isaac was rational enough to listen to his cousin's advice. The door to the cabin opened and he stepped out, unarmed, with his hands above his head. Uniformed officers swarmed on him, roughly hand cuffing him and reading his rights while others, along with the paramedics raced into the cabin. Catherine and the others were not far behind.
The sight that greeted them wasn't pretty. The air reeked of stale beer, cigarettes, sweat, and other bodily fluids. Beer bottles, cigarette butts and empty junk food wrappers littered the floor. Greg nearly tripped over a sleeping bag on the floor, which Isaac must've crashed on.
Yet all that paled in comparison to the condition of their supervisor. He'd been bound to a chair with rope and terribly abused. As Brass suspected, Isaac wanted Grissom to fully experience suffering, rather than simply kill him out of anger. His clothing was torn, angry rope abrasions and huge bruises covered his body. His hands had been badly burned. His right arm hung in a fashion that clearly revealed it was broken. His breathing was uneven, indicating that he was in a lot of pain. Most disconcerting were his eyes. Catherine shoved her way past the paramedics, trying to speak to him.
"Gil, are you alright? We're here. You're going to be ok. Talk to me."
He didn't react to their presence, seemingly withdrawn deep within himself. His eyes stared wildly ahead, not focusing on anything.
The paramedics conveyed him to the helicopter to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible.
XXXXXXXXXX
Grissom was lying in a hospital bed, his right arm in a cast and his damaged ribs bound tightly. An IV drip was hooked up to his left arm. His hands had sustained severe burns so they were covered with patches of gauze. His face was swollen with multiple cuts and bruises. He was asleep.
Exhausted, Catherine finally allowed herself to collapse into a chair beside the bed. She covered her face with her hands, fighting the emotions that threatened to erupt.
It's my fault. If I had the guts to say something earlier, if I hadn't been so worried about offending Gil, we would've found him earlier. That bastard wouldn't have broken him. I'll never forgive myself if he's permanently damaged.
Warrick silently slid beside her. Putting his hand on Catherine's shoulder, he softly reassured her, "Hey, he's alive. He's strong. He'll make it."
"You didn't see his eyes. It was like there was nobody inside of him," Catherine began to shake slightly as his grip on her shoulder became tighter.
"The doctors told us that withdrawing like that is a normal coping mechanism under such duress. He said that many people have been able to bounce back after these types of experiences," Warrick assured her. "It just takes time."
"God, I hope so," Catherine sniffed, a tear trickling down her cheek.
Warrick caught on to her inner dilemma. "Don't blame yourself Cath, even if you suspected Grissom was in trouble, we wouldn't have been able to locate him any sooner. Don't do this. He's gonna be alright." He continued to knead her shoulder with his fingers. To attempt to distract her, he mentioned, "Hey, there's good news. Sara is awake and alert. It'll take some time for her to recover but she's going to be okay. She's trying to convince her doctors to let Nick and Greg bring her over here to see Grissom."
"Is that a good idea?" Grissom's appearance troubled her, what would it do to Sara?
"I think she'll be relieved to see him alive," Warrick carefully suggested.
Grissom stirred and the two stepped closer to his bed.
"Gil, are you okay?" Catherine pleaded.
He opened his eyes and cautiously examined his surroundings.
Catherine's breath caught in her throat. While he was obviously groggy, his eyes were more focused than before.
"C'mon Gil, speak to me," she urged.
Grissom 's gaze lingered on Catherine and Warrick's faces. He smiled briefly, appearing to recognize them. All too soon, his smile faded and he sadly murmured, almost to himself, " No, it's not real, not real."
Catherine turned to Warrick, who answered, "He may've been having delusions, seeing people that weren't really there. It's all part of the syndrome the doctor said."
"We are real Gil." Catherine insisted as she tried to grab his forearm to prove it, but Grissom yanked it back, trembling with fear.
She was upset by his response. "It's me Gil. I don't want to hurt you. You're in the hospital. Isaac is going to jail for a very long time. You're safe now."
A nurse rushed into the room to attempt to check Grissom's vital signs but any human contact was greatly upsetting him. He was panicking, starting to thrash around, almost pulling out his IV in the process. He screamed, "No, leave me alone!"
They were afraid that he was going to harm himself. With great difficulty and the help of two other people, the nurse gave him a sedative and then she advised them, "He needs to rest. Why don't you get something to eat and come back later?"
Several hours later, Catherine and Warrick returned. They'd dropped by their respective homes to shower and freshen up, putting on clean clothes, and then they stopped at a diner for some sandwiches. When they first arrived at the hospital, they dropped by Sara's room and visited with her for a while. Although they didn't want to discuss it, Sara relentlessly grilled them about Grissom's condition. She was anxious to see him. They promised her they would check up on him and personally bring her over whenever he was able to handle visitors.
Grissom was asleep when they entered his room. Catherine and Warrick worried about his recovery time. They weren't going to be able to put Sara off much longer, she was ready to steal a wheelchair and find his room by herself.
Fortunately, he stirred within several minutes of their arrival. His eyes came open and he appeared to recognize them.
"Gil," Catherine pushed her chair closer to the bed. "You're in the hospital. It's over. You're going to be okay now."
He seemed confused, but he wasn't denying their existence, which was a good sign. It was taking him time to process things.
As he became more alert he asked, with great concern. "Sara? Where's Sara?"
"She's okay Gil. She sustained several injuries but she's going to be alright," Catherine explained.
"She's not dead? They told me that they killed her," his anguished voice relayed.
"No, she's coming to see you real soon." Catherine gestured to Warrick to contact Nick and Greg to have them bring Sara over as soon as possible.
Grissom wanted to be sure that he understood what was going on. "You sure?"
"Absolutely," Catherine grinned.
Seemingly satisfied, Grissom wearily closed his eyes again.
An hour later, Nick and Greg entered the room, pushing Sara in a wheelchair. Her face was heavily bandaged and what little pieces of flesh poked through were purple and blue. Catherine and Warrick stepped back to allow the guys to push her chair next to Grissom's bed. Then Catherine immediately insisted that they all leave the room before Sara woke Grissom, suspecting that this would be both a very private and emotional moment for the two of them.
Of course, being who she was, Catherine wasn't content to wait in the hallway for long. After a decent interval, she managed to creep into the doorway of his room. Somehow, Sara had managed to pull herself out of her wheelchair and now she was perched on the edge of Grissom's bed. He was sitting up, holding her, with her head leaning against his chest. They weren't saying anything, just holding each other, clinging tightly.
Catherine smiled then left them alone.
THE END