A/N: Here we go with some more! Thank you SO much to those who have reviewed the first two chapters of this fic. I really appreciate your interest and your kind comments. I hope you like what's coming next! Because this one is so short, I also posted chapter four at the same time. Thanks again to my great beta, Grissom! Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Cut Off

Shifting her attention back to Grissom, Sara noticed that she had left smudges of blood on his face where she had touched him. Without thinking, she reached out again, trying to wipe to blood off, but only succeeded in spreading more around.

It was then that she realized just how much blood was all around. She glanced down, almost in surprise, at herself. Blood was everywhere—an explosion of red on her hands, arms, clothes, on Grissom and his clothes, and in a growing puddle under his injured leg.

The smell hit her at that moment—the sharp odor of sheared copper. It was a familiar smell, one that she had grown accustomed to at many crime scenes; but now, staring at the sticky redness of the blood, Sara suddenly felt horribly nauseated. Not just blood, she thought with a shiver. His blood… She swallowed hard to keep down whatever was in her stomach, closing her eyes briefly to regain control. Then she looked back at Grissom's leg. Blood was slowly starting to seep through the double-layer of bandages, and that propelled Sara back into action.

She lunged for his leg, grabbing the wound with so much pressure that she knew Grissom would cry out in pain. When she heard his answering yelp of agony, she apologized to him yet again, "I'm sorry, Grissom. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I have to do this. Just stay with me." Then she raised her voice, frustration and panic ruling her tone, "Jim, where's that damn ambulance! He's bleeding again! I can't stop this bleeding on my own!"

"It should be here!" Jim shouted back. "They had turned the sirens off to avoid spooking our 'friend' up on the rooftop. ETA is right now!" As he said the words, he looked around, remembering to stay low. When he saw the ambulance pull silently into the lot, he sagged in relief. "Thank God," he mumbled before calling in a loud, clear voice, "Sara! The ambulance is here!"

"Thank God," she said to herself, unknowingly echoing Jim's sentiment. Although she felt weak with relief, she didn't allow her grip on Grissom's wound to lessen.

The ambulance rolled to a stop alongside the other cars; two paramedics hopped out. Taking a cue from the officers, they kept low and made their way to Brass's side.

"What's the situation, sir?" one of them asked quickly. "Any change since your original call?"

"No change. One man down—CSI Gil Grissom. He took a bullet in the leg, and he's bleeding badly. There haven't been any shots in about five minutes, but our guy is still out there somewhere—probably on a nearby rooftop."

"Okay, sir. We'll take care of Mr. Grissom."

"Thanks," Brass replied, meeting the other man's eyes. "And be careful."

"We're trained for this, sir. Don't worry." He turned and ran back to the ambulance. Having been in the military, paramedic Tom McAllister was confident they could extract CSI Grissom safely, but he was worried about his partner. Mary was new and unsure of herself. She'd been nervous on their other calls together, and Tom could only imagine how she was feeling with a crazed sniper on the loose. But he had promised the police captain that they would get his man out in one piece, and that's what he intended to do.

Stepping inside the back of the ambulance, Tom quickly got together what they would need. He opened a panel and pulled out two flak jackets. He secured his and passed the other one to his partner. She slipped it on as she looked around anxiously, sagging under the weight of the protective garment. It was heavier than she had thought, and she hoped she would be able to keep up with her partner and do what needed to be done.

"Ready, Mary?" Tom asked, grabbing one side of the gurney.

Although she looked extremely unsure, she nodded and Tom took that as a sign to move out. "Let's keep the gurney low," he suggested, speaking rapidly. "We can get the victim out quicker. His name is Grissom—Gil Grissom. Let's go!"

On his last word, the two medics ran out into the open toward Grissom and Sara. As soon as they got close, shots rang out. The salvo was faster and much more furious than the others had been. The paramedics covered their heads, but still tried to move toward the CSIs.

Sara again attempted to shield Grissom, but the bullets were coming much nearer this time. The speed and heat of the deadly projectiles whizzing by filled her with mind-numbing panic and she couldn't think.

The paramedics kept trying to advance, but were finally forced to turn back and take cover behind their vehicle. There was a slight pause, and then the shooting started again, the bullets hitting disturbingly close to Sara and Grissom's prone forms.

Reloading, Brass thought, as he watched helplessly. The police captain's gun was instinctively in his hand, even though he realized it was useless. His anger and fear warred with each other; the more heated emotion ultimately won out, Brass's fury growing at the unseen man targeting his two friends. "Move, Sara!" he shouted, trying to do what little he could to help. "Get to cover!"

To be continued…