The way the cave/mine scene in the Season 3 ep "Lucky Strike" would have gone...if we'd written it.
P.S. -- We don't own CSI. Imagine that...
"Air's gettin' thick," Nick coughed, lifting a hand and waving away particles of dust.
"Smells like trinitrotoluene," Grissom murmured as he and Nick advanced into the cave. Grissom coughed a bit as well in the haze of dust, but he appeared undeterred. Since they'd found those bugs headed deeper into the cave, Grissom had only been more determined to further investigate. Nick knew that any potential crime scene involving insects would immediately set the entomologist into his element.
The next time Grissom leaned over, however, wasn't to examine more insects. The criminalist plucked a splintered piece of wood from a pile of similarly fractured pieces. Nick crouched down next to his boss, angling his flashlight onto the sharp spike of wood.
"Look familiar?" Grissom asked the younger CSI.
Nick nodded. "Yeah," he agreed, standing back up again. "But how did it get in the back of the guy's head?"
Both men looked around the cave for clues. Finally, their roving eyes stopped on a rubbery black cable, half-buried in the dirt and cave debris.
Grissom pressed his lips together - he wasn't surprised. "Fuse line-dynamite."
This discovery helped a scenario form in his head regarding their victim, but also raised another, more immediate concern. If any type of dynamite had been used in this cave, especially by untrained parties, the wall stability could be compromised. Grissom sighed. There was no telling what kind of constancy the cave walls held.
The two CSIs walked further into the cave, following the grime-covered fuse line. As Nick took in their surroundings, Grissom noticed the uneasy expression on his younger colleague's face. The entomologist remained characteristically impassive, unconsciously running his hand along the rough stone wall as they progressed. He could feel slight grooves scraped into the cool stone - scratches that betrayed a history of explosion.
Several meters later, they reached a large pile of dirt and debris. Grissom slowly climbed over the pile first, with Nick following his supervisor's cautious steps. "Hey, Nicky, do you think-" Grissom drew in a sharp breath and stopped dead in his tracks.
Nick, concentrating on keeping his balance through the mass of rubble, barely avoided slamming into Grissom's back. "Griss, what the…" He peered ahead, trying to see what caused the halt. As his eyes lowered, he saw the dusty abdomen his boss had narrowly avoided stepping on.
Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Ahh. 'If Cave be Grave and Grave be Cave, Then render judge I crave.'"
Nick let out an exasperated laugh. Only his boss could pull out the cave puns during a time like this. "Let me see… Poe? Frost? Or maybe some speleologist poet of the 14th century?"
Grissom moved carefully around the body, allowing Nick room to step over the pile and move to the opposite side. "Actually," he paused, inspecting the debris hiding part of the corpse. "It's from a memorial in the Holy Trinity Church of Barrow upon Soar, England. It indicates a spirit of levity which assorts strangely with the sacred atmosphere."
Nick coughed as he helped his boss begin to uncover the vic. "Right."
The two CSIs proceeded carefully. The body remained partially buried under splintered pieces of wood, rocks, and dirt, similar to the rubble they had passed earlier in their trek. They carefully brushed away the wreckage covering their potential murder victim.
Grissom's eyes narrowed when he leaned closer to inspect the chest.
"Chest wound. Possibly from our .38. Just about two days old."
"Alright. Let's see if we can ID this guy." Nick began feeling around the body for a wallet. Careful not to disturb the scene, he reached under the corpse and into a worn, denim pocket. His eyes lit up as his fingers hit leather, and he pulled the battered wallet to freedom. Opening the flap, he was greeted by more than just an ID.
"Agh," he grumbled in disgust. A long centipede had apparently taken up residence on top of the Nevada driver's license. He shook the wallet, trying to rid the evidence of one of Grissom's little friends, but his dusty fingers slipped and sent the leather flying several feet further into the cave. The entomologist's only response was a trademark eyebrow-raise. Nick shrugged, and with a sheepish grin, got up to retrieve the wallet.
The Texan walked carefully into the darkness. He swept his flashlight slowly over the ground, trying not to disrupt too much of a potential crime scene. Finally, the beam of light revealed the wallet, which lay haphazardly on a pile of rocks. Smiling, Nick walked over to the dark corner, crouching to retrieve the evidence.
His smile turned grim as his flashlight uncovered something else near the wallet.
"Hey Griss…check this out."
Grissom stood up, stretching out kinks that seemed to form all too quickly these days. The older CSI walked over to where his colleague was standing and followed Nick's gaze down to a dilapidated wooden box. It contents were empty except for another coil of fuse, identical to the line they had already spotted.
"This is turning into quite the treasure hunt," Grissom murmured, placing a hand on the wall for support as he leaned down to inspect the fuse.
Before the supervisor could get a clear look, his hand jerked and caused his body to stumble forward. If he hadn't thought the wall would be pliable, then he certainly didn't expect it to snap under his weight. Grissom whipped his head around to see what the problem was and discovered he hadn't leaned on stone, but instead an old, wooden support beam.
"Griss? You alright?" Nick asked, concerned.
"I'm fine, Nicky," Grissom turned back to the new evidence. "And as it appears, so is this fuse. From the looks of it, this wire can't have been here too…" Grissom trailed off as he noticed his younger colleague seemed to be ignoring him. Nick's head was tilted to the side, and he looked nervous.
"Do you hear that?" Nick was eyeing the cave walls warily.
The older man shook his head, but stopped as he realized he could hear something - a faint rumbling in the dark. "Nick, I think…" Grissom stopped as the rumbling grew louder.
Both CSIs looked up as dust trickled down and steadily grew heavier. Nick heard his boss shout his name but anything after that was drowned out by torrents of rocks careening from every direction.
Grissom felt himself paralyzed by a moment of very un-CSI-like panic as cave debris pelted his shoulders. Suddenly, something hard slammed against the side of his body, causing him to stagger over several feet. Though disoriented, quickly realized it had been Nick pushing him toward the direction of the cave's entrance.
"Grissom!" Nick's muffled voice shouted, "we gotta get outta here!"
"Yeah!" Grissom managed to yell back, though he doubted Nick could hear him through the deluge of debris.
The older CSI began to move towards the entrance, but had only gone several feet before he realized Nick wasn't behind him.
"Nick! Nick!" Grissom looked desperately for the other man but could hardly see his own hand in front of him. The wreckage seemed to be falling faster now, so he dove to the ground and covered his head. He winced as stones and the occasional piece of wood hit his back, but from what he could hear, the fall of wreckage was worse towards the back of the cave - the direction he'd last seen Nick.
After what Grissom believed to be the longest 30 seconds of his life, the rain of earth slowed and finally ebbed to a mere trickle. The entomologist raised his head slowly, shaking off the grimy layer of dirt and stones covering his body. After silently assuring himself he was uninjured, he turned quickly towards the area Nick had been during the cave-in.
His heart plummeted at the sight: a mountain of rocks, wood, and rubble - and no Nick.
TBC...