Title: For Honor and Glory
Chapter: 2/? Author: Brutal Howell E-Mail: brutal_howell@hotmail.com Category: Drama/Romance/Angst/General Pairing: Grissom/Original Character Rating: R Summary: Grissom learns more about his shadow.and the man that wants him dead. Greg takes one for the team. Spoiler: Just Chapter 1 of this very story. Might want to read that one first - or this won't make sense. Feedback: Don't make me beg. Disclaimer: See Ch. 1 Author's notes: Be patient with me folks, this is only the second fanfic I have ever written. And I'm writing all these off the top of my head. No notes, just what I've gathered from watching the show and my own studies as a Paramedic/Criminologist. (Sue, forgive me if I offended. While I understand your point about Tong and Yakuza - 1. While rare, in mob families, marriages are sometimes arranged to create a power base. Being of Italian/Irish heritage [with mob ties on both sides] We have seen it. 2. Michael Lee - while being Chinese, I never specified that he was with the Tong. And 3. It's fiction. I will try to stay true to the facts.but I may, on occasion, take some liberties to help the plot flow a little smoother. Again.If I offend, I apologize. Thank you for specifying that I had the right names with the right nationalities. I wasn't sure because I just made the names up. For csi_sleuth, Marion is who Moira becomes when I go without sleep for 52 straight hours. With finals in analytical chemistry and pharmacology this week alone, I'm surprised Marion didn't pop up more than the 4 times I typed her in. Sorry to those who got confused at the tail end of Chapter 1. Thank you to the nine people who reviewed the first chapter. I never received that many for any single chapter on my other fic. Please, keep them coming.especially you, Sue. I can promise that I will do my best to stay true to the wonderful personalities that the cast of CSI have bestowed on their alter egos. By the way, the sentences that appear between (**) are Grissom and Moira signing to each other. I'm fried.it's Finals week at the end of the semester. Don't know how long it will be before I can post Chapter three. And now.on with the show.
For Honor and Glory
Chapter 2
By
Brutal Howell
The Learning Curve
HOSPITAL - MORNING
Moira knew that Grissom was awake, but she kept her eyes closed in the hope that he would just go back to sleep. When he rolled on to his good side, it was obvious that he was up for the day. Grissom's mind was working over-time. He glanced at his watch and realized he had only been sleeping for five hours.
"How's the head?" she stood and stretched her long frame. He felt his body respond to the action. It took several seconds for it to register that he had been staring. "Gil?" He forced his brain to take over again. "How are you feeling?" she asked. Moira had to smile. 'Hope you enjoyed the look, Mr. Grissom.' She thought.
"The pain has subsided to a dull thud." Moira knew from his medical file that he was prone to debilitating migraines. Thank God Brass had thought to bring his pills with a change of clothes last night. "Nothing I can't handle."
"Well, I have some good news - doctor came by here while you were sleeping. They'll be taking that chest tube out within the hour. They have to sedate you again, but once you wake up.you can go home." He didn't like the idea of being sedated again. Moira recognized the apprehension in his eyes. "I'll never be more than ten steps away at any given time." She reaffirmed. His sheepish smile was enough to confirm her suspicions. "It's alright to be scared, Gil. You're a man who likes simplicity and order to his world. Within a week, everything you know has been turned upside down. It's enough to rattle anyone." She gently placed her hand over his. "No one is going to think any less of you." At her touch, every nerve ending in his body was sparking. Grissom was stunned - this woman he had never met, was reading him like an open book. She was a complete enigma to him. And he was aware that she preferred it that way. Moira got the feeling that he was looking at her like one of his experiments. A puzzle to be solved. She just stood there and let him look. Their little staring contest was broken up by a knock on the wall.
"Jimmy!" she hugged her cousin.
"Am I interrupting something?" Brass had noticed the electricity passing between them last night. Today it was back again. He passed a bag over to Moira, "I brought you two some REAL breakfast. Hospital food should be against the law." He dug a small case out of his pocket. "Before I forget, here's the item you asked me to get." She opened the case and took out the small silver crucifix. She dangled the item from its chain in front of Grissom.
"This is for you," she explained. Grissom had always believed in God. But the day his dad walked out on him and his mom.he stopped having faith. He hadn't practiced any sort of religion since he was six. So he didn't know how he felt about wearing a religious symbol around his neck.
"A crucifix?" he asked. Moira picked up on the mood change - she would appeal to the practical side of the man.
"This isn't just a crucifix. It has a tracking device in it," she pressed a button on her watch and showed him. The traditional face of the watch had been replaced. Instead there was a readout screen indicating the location of the crucifix. "There is also a distress mechanism in here. Compress the sides of the cross toward the center," he reached up and did so. The signal on her watch was brighter and it was now emitting a high pitch beep. As she moved her watch closer to the crucifix, the beeping sped up - and it slowed when she moved it away. "It's just a precaution, in case we get separated." Grissom didn't like the sound of that. He wondered what his life span would be if that happened. Both Moira and Brass noticed the slight shake of his hand when he took the crucifix from her and slid it around his neck.
"Gil, we're just trying to prepare for all possibilities. OK?" he was trying to comfort his friend. He got the feeling that Grissom had no idea what he was in for. Jim was worried about him. But he also knew that the only way Moira would ever leave the man's side was if she was dead. Which is why she had given him the twin to her receiver watch. If Tamatsura managed to get the best of her, she was giving him a way to find the CSI. Grissom understood about covering all your bases.things were less likely to go wrong that way. But his life had never been on the line before. He just nodded at Brass. They were interrupted by the doctor.
"Are you ready to get that chest tube out, Mr. Grissom?" The CSI let it stand as a rhetorical question. "The OR is all ready for you." The doctor said as two orderlies came to prepare him for the trip. One of them looked at the crucifix and Gil shook his head.
"This stays." He said with a great deal of conviction. Moira was pleasantly surprised. She hadn't expected him to take to the idea of wearing it so quickly. What she didn't realize is that while he didn't like what it stood for, he saw it as a lifeline - of sorts. It was a lifeline to the woman who wanted to keep him alive, at all costs. And he was beginning to feel that its presence could be somewhat soothing. When the orderly reached for it, Moira's hand shot out and grabbed his. She pressed her thumb down hard on the pressure point in between his thumb and forefinger. The man winced and jerked his hand away.
"He said it stays. It's not in your way - leave it." She growled. Grissom was again thankful for Moira. This whole contract thing was going to turn his life upside down - and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she would have broken that orderly's arm to get him the small concession he craved. Only Brass saw the humor in it.
"This has got to be a new one for you, Gil. A woman who's willing to maim for you." He teased. Moira blushed when she noticed Jimmy's smirk. The doctor conceded the point and Grissom was allowed to keep the crucifix on. They wheeled him to the OR she had picked out. It had only one entrance, so he would be easier to guard in there. She had had Paddy run a check on the two people that were going to be in there with them - both came up clean. Brass volunteered to wait outside until they were done. Moira stood next to the operating table. She had demanded that all drugs and instruments still be in their packaging when they got there. It would take longer to remove the chest tube.but it was the only way for her to guarantee that he was getting the treatment he was supposed to. The nurse injected the sedative into his IV. As he started to lose consciousness, Moira smiled at him. She was surprised when he reached out and grabbed her hand.
"I'll be here the whole time," she told him as she entwined her fingers with his. It was the last thing Grissom heard before his world went black.
GIL GRISSOM'S HOUSE - EVENING
It had taken an additional three hours for Grissom to wake up after they removed the chest tube. Moira saw the relief on his face as he opened his eyes and saw her there. She reminded him that she didn't make promises she couldn't keep. He was surprised to see that she had everything packed and ready to go when he woke. He was a bit uncomfortable when she helped him change his shirt - until she pointed out that she had seen his chest when she did the pleural decompression on him at the warehouse. Three more days off work - doctor's orders - and he could at least pretend things were somewhat normal. Normal, he almost snorted at that. He would attempt to gather and process evidence to convict criminals - all the while being hunted by the father of a criminal. The irony was not lost on him. The only thing standing between Michael Lee and him, was a woman who didn't know him from Adam . and seemed to be even less of an open book than he was. As Moira parked the SUV in his driveway, Grissom began to notice the subtle changes. There were curtains instead of blinds on his windows. She held up a device and pressed it. He heard the subtle beep of something disengaging. She noticed his puzzled expression.
"Proximity sensors. I'll reset them once we're inside." She explained. She came around the other side and helped him out of the SUV. He could see she held a gun in her left hand. Her stance was close enough to offer cover if they were attacked. She stopped and checked the trap she had placed on his front door. It was still intact - she maneuvered him through the front door. She closed the door behind them and motioned him to stand where he was. He knew she was checking the rest of the house. Five minutes later, he flinched when she turned on the living room light. He hadn't even heard her return. "Sorry," she smiled sheepishly. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lit interior. The curtains that covered his windows were a lot thicker than normal. "Blackout curtains." She told him. "They're on all your windows and they have to stay closed at all times. They don't allow light in or out. Snipers can't shoot what they can't see.it was the only way I could get you at least some freedom in your own house - wish I could do more." Was she serious? Grissom thought. He had a feeling that these weren't the only changes she had made. When she pulled back a corner of the curtains and used the same device to reset the proximity sensors, he vaguely felt like he was living in Fort Knox. "I had Jimmy tell your people if they wanted to stop by, call first. I can't have them setting off my traps. We had your mail re-routed to a post-office box. Jimmy will pick it up for the next 3 days, then you can pick it up yourself." He didn't like that idea.but he couldn't let the mailman set off Moira's traps either. "Catherine stocked the fridge and the cupboards.no more carry-out, for a while." She gave him a wry smile. Jim had briefed her on some of Grissom's habits.
"Jim has a big mouth," he smiled back. He knew full well whom her source was for that little tid-bit. He shrugged; a little home cooking might do him some good. He noticed the five cases in the corner of his living room. "What are those?" he wondered exactly what kind of security she was implementing here.
"My arsenal," she stated simply.
"Excuse me?"
"That," she pointed to the cases, "is the typical arsenal I take on particularly difficult cases. There are guns, knives, grenades of all kinds.and little gadgets developed by my guy back in Dublin. Necessary things. which reminds me." She went over to one of the cases and pulled out a kevlar vest. "When we go outside, this becomes part of your wardrobe." She handed it to him. He hated wearing Kevlar; it always made him feel like he was wearing a pizza oven. But he wasn't going to argue with her about it though. Not until he knew this whole situation had been dealt with. He just nodded. He felt a sense of relief when she took her jacket off. She was armed to the teeth. A gun under each arm along with one in the small of her back. All three were equipped with silencers, and it looked like almost ten magazines of spare ammo. Strapped to each of her forearms had a small case with throwing knives. There was also a small case on her belt.
"You look like you're prepared for WWIII," he said in shock. "Just how many weapons are you carrying?" he asked. She seemed to do a quick tally in her head.
"I might as well tell you all of them. If I go down for some reason, you may have to defend yourself." He didn't like to think about her getting killed, but he could see the wisdom in her telling him. "There are four guns, these three plus a .38 in the ankle holster," she lifted her pant leg to show him. "Ten mags of armor piercing ammo for the Sig-Sauers, and two speed loaders for the .38. I have fifteen knives - six on each forearm, two tucked behind the Sigs on each shoulder holster, and one in a calf sheath." His eyes went wide when she continued. "The small case on my hip has 6 throwing stars. They probably won't do you any good unless you know how to throw them. The longer case is an extending baton. Also, if you need a spare Kevlar, take mine. At that point, I won't need it." He looked her up and down - trying to figure out how a woman who was roughly 5'10" tall could carry 26 weapons on her body.
"Do you really think it will get that bad?" Grissom asked. She motioned for him to have a seat.
"Gil, Victor Tamatsura is known for holding grudges for years. The man assassinated my husband and two brothers because his son gave me the goods to bring him down. He is a very bad man.and in his mind, he has a reason to hate you." She explained. All of a sudden Grissom thought he was going to be sick.
"There is only one way to end this, isn't there?" She nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"Either he dies.or you do." That was enough to make him throw up. Moira grabbed the garbage can and held it while he doubled over and promptly vomited what little he had eaten for lunch. She rubbed small, comforting circles on his back. "It's OK, Gil. I won't let him get near you." The contents of his stomach emptied, he now had to deal with the dry heaves. Each heave sent a wave of pain across his injured lung. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his shaking form. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when he started to cry. She expected him to have some sort of a breakdown. Why shouldn't he? He was a civilian who was now in the targets of the devil himself - for nothing more than doing his job. Better he gets it over with now - rather than when they were under attack. Moira took the garbage can from him and set it on the floor. She encouraged him to lie down as she sat on the edge of the couch. She pulled his head into her lap. "Shhhhh..get some sleep, Gil." She began to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture. Just like she used to do for her husband. An image of what her mind's eye thought her husband would look like if he had lived to see his 40's superimposed itself over Grissom's image for a moment. She shook her head slightly to clear it. She felt a pang of sadness - but her loss wasn't important, she had done her grieving. Grissom just laid there and cried while the weight of his situation hit him. "I'll watch over you, I promise." She wiped the tears away with her thumb. "Shhhh, It'll be all right. You have a lot of people pulling for you, Gil Grissom." She gave him a gentle smile. "Come on, you know you're a good boss when one of your employees is willing to give me his life savings for you." That brought a smile to Grissom's face. She was right, they weren't just a crew. He had long come to consider the other CSI's on his shift as family. He and Catherine as the parents, Warrick, Nick, Sara and Greg as the children. Moira placed her palm against Grissom's cheek. "I promise you, I'll kill Tamatsura before he gets you." She didn't know what made her promise something like that. Her business was a strange one.and the simplest mistakes could result in death for anyone. She resolved not to make those mistakes. Tamatsura had already shown his hand by not covering his connection to Johnny Lee. But the man had always been arrogant. She gave Grissom a half-smile. Victor's arrogance would be his downfall. The CSI didn't know why he believed her. But he felt safe while she was here. He closed his eyes as she wiped away the last of his tears. She laid one hand in the middle of his chest and continued her gentle touches on his face and hair with the other one. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. Moira just leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes.
Two hours later, Moira's phone rang, waking them both. She gently helped Grissom sit up before she answered it. She recognized the phone number as Paddy's. "What have you got for me, Paddy?" she listened attentively to the information he was relaying. Grissom was about to ask about it when his phone rang.
"Hello?"
Gris, It's Sara.
"Hi, Sara." Moira picked up on the exhaustion in his voice. Unfortunately, so did Sara.
You OK? she asked. You up for a visit? he suspected that she wasn't just talking about herself.
"Can we make it for the morning? I'm kind of tired." He told her. He needed at least the night to build up his defenses again.
Sure. Brass already warned us about your new bulldog, So I'll make sure to call first. he could tell she was teasing, but he really wasn't in the mood. And it was the strangest thing - he actually found himself getting defensive about the nickname Sara had just given Moira.
"She has a name, Sara." He stated completely annoyed. "I would appreciate if you call her by that.not 'the bulldog." He was surprised to hear Moira chuckle at that. When he glanced at her, she mouthed the words 'The Bulldog?' at him. He just nodded.
Jeez, Grissom, little touchy aren't we? she really didn't mean any offense. She cut herself off before she turned it into a debate. See you in the morning? We'll bring breakfast. 'We,' confirmed what he had suspected. Say, 8am?
"OK, see you then." He sighed. When he hung up, he could tell Moira was just rounding up her phone call as well. She closed her cell phone and then flashed him a mega-watt smile. "Good news?" he asked.
"Some. Michael Lee just checked into the Sands hotel. There is also a reservation that showed up on the Mirage guest register about 20 minutes ago." She trailed off allowing him to supply his own answer.
"Victor Tamatsura?" he asked. She nodded. "Your people work fast."
"We don't have take the mountain to Mohammed, he'll be bringing himself to us in four weeks." Grissom didn't know whether to be happy, or scared shitless. Either way, things would be decided within the month. She could see the fear playing across his normally stoic face. She took a knee in front of him and held his hand between both of hers. "I meant what I said, Gil. In four weeks, Victor Tamatsura will die." He tried to force a smile.
"I'm going to get a shower," he desperately needed some time to think. Moira nodded and stood to get out of his way. She watched him go into the bathroom and then decided to start dinner for them. She would get some work done on her laptop while it was cooking. After 40 minutes, she started to head upstairs to check on Grissom. She was beginning to get worried since he hadn't come out from his shower. As she got to the top of the stairs, the bathroom door opened. He was standing in the doorway in his jeans - toweling off his hair. He needed Moira's help to get another shirt on. The sight of him standing there, shirtless, damp - and vulnerable was enough to knock the wind out of her. She vaguely wondered where that feeling came from. No man had been able to even pique a slight interest in the twelve years since her husband was killed. Now here was this scientist friend of Jimmy's was stirring up some very old feelings. "I need your help with the shirt." When he noticed her staring, he was caught like a deer in a headlight himself. He always considered himself a very dull looking guy - was never into appearance, his studies were always more important. And now he had a stunningly beautiful woman looking at him like he was the next course of the buffet. The Twilight Zone his life had become was getting stranger and stranger. He couldn't help blushing under her scrutiny, "Moira?" he said a little louder. That forced her to snap out of whatever haze she was in. She cursed herself when she noticed his knowing smile. 'Whoa! Can't let that happen again.' She thought.
"Yeah?" she tried to cover her earlier behavior.
"Can you help me with this shirt?" He held up a denim shirt that buttoned down the front. "I'm still having some trouble." She was grateful for the distraction. She took the shirt and helped him into it. Dinner was starting to make itself known. The wonderful aromas from downstairs made Grissom's stomach rumble. "That smells amazing!"
"I hope you like Chicken Alfredo," she was happy that he wanted to eat. Even from what she noticed before, he normally didn't have much of an appetite. He sniffed the air again.
"With Garlic Bread?" she smiled and nodded. He started to make his way downstairs.
"Catherine really stocked your fridge with the good stuff. We even have appetizers," She motioned for him to sit at the table where she had set up a place for him to eat.
"You're not eating?" he asked. He almost sounded hurt. Grissom glanced over at the food she was cooking. "There's more than enough for both of us, Moira. Please, join me. You cooked it after all." She didn't think it was a good idea considering her reaction to him at the top of the stairs. She gave in when he started to grab another setting out of his cupboard. He set another place next to the one already there. "I insist."
"OK. Please, sit down. I'll get everything." When he sat down she got the shrimp cocktails she had made and put them on the table in front of him. She went back to finish the rest of the dinner. Grissom noticed her open laptop next to him, with a picture of an Asian man on the screen. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest.
"Is this him?" Moira looked up and cursed her stupidity at leaving the computer within his view. Jimmy had warned her that he had a curiosity that sometimes superceded his own common sense. She nodded.
"That's Victor Tamatsura. I took that picture for your FBI seven months ago." When he looked into the eyes of the man in the picture, he felt a shiver go up his spine. He turned when he felt the hand on his shoulder. "Kind of like the devil itself." She reached over and pointed to another man two steps behind Tamatsura. It was clear that the picture was taken to include the images of both men. "That is Michael Lee." An image clicked in Grissom's photographic memory.
"I remember him from the trial. He doesn't concern me as much as this one." He pointed at Tamatsura. Smart man, she thought. Good instincts.
"Michael Lee is nothing but a two-bit hood. He married into the Yakuza, but the Japanese won't accept him for obvious reasons." She could see him absorbing all this new info. She suddenly realized that she would need to include his input into this plan. If he was going down, he needed to go down fighting. Plus, he knew the town a lot better than she did. Maybe together, they could work out a feasible plan.or they could both be killed.
"He's Chinese."
"Right. But if the Tong ever captured him, he would be killed on the spot as the traitor he is. So he has to settle for being Victor's little lap dog." She pointed at Tamatsura in the picture, "Cut off the head of the dragon, and the body dies." Grissom sighed.he just hoped it was a dragon they were dealing with, and not a hydra. She closed the picture and pulled up a pair of files. "Read, while I finish dinner." She ordered. Grissom didn't want to know how Moira had compiled such a thorough file on each of these men. There looked like there were some CIA, FBI, and MI5 documents in each one. He read the summaries first.
MICHAEL LEE, AGED 52 YEARS. RIGHT-HAND MAN OF VICTOR TAMATSURA IN IMAGE ONLY. MARRIED TO HOSHI TAMATSURA IN DEC, 1974. ONE SON, JOHNNY - CURRENTLY AGED 23 YEARS. MICHEAL HAS NO REAL POWER OF HIS OWN, SO HE EXHAUSTS HIS ENERGIES INTO HIS FAMILY TO KEEP HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW HAPPY. TAMATSURA GIVES HIM ENOUGH WORK TO KEEP HIM BUSY, BUT SEEMS TO NOT TRUST HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST. ASSIGNS JOHNNY LO TO KEEP WATCH OVER HIM. LO RARELY LETS MICHEAL LEE OUT OF HIS SIGHT.
Grissom smirked at that. This Johnny Lo seemed to be Moira's counterpart. He pointed at another figure in the picture. "Is this Johnny Lo?" he asked. She looked where he was pointing. She nodded.
"Johnny is a very dangerous man. Makes a school of sharks look jovial." She still had to come up with a way to get Johnny out of the picture. "Now that Michael knows that I'm here, he'll probably send Johnny after you before Tamatsura shows up. Hell, he'll probably be chomping at the bit to get a piece of me." She smiled at him.
"Do I want to know why?" She laughed and shook her head.
"The scar and the eye-patch is my handiwork. If you look close at the picture, you'll also see that he's not using his left arm. Could have something to do with the fact that I gutted it last time we met." She shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm glad you're on my side," he smiled at her.
"Don't let what he's lacking physically fool you. Johnny Lo is smart. Probably even smarter than Victor. That makes him extremely dangerous." Why didn't that make Grissom feel any better?
BOTH MICHAEL LEE AND JOHNNY LO HAVE BEEN IN LAS VEGAS SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE TRIAL OF MICHEAL LEE'S SON, JOHNNY. THE BOY WAS CONVICTED OF 2 COUNTS OF PRE-MEDITATED MURDER. BUT HIS UNCLE'S WEALTH AND POWER BOUGHT HIM A PAIR OF LIFE SENTENCES, RATHER THAN DEATH. LEE'S ENTOURAGE HAS THE PENTHOUSE SUITE AT THE SANDS HOTEL AS OF TODAY. THE VACATED PENTHOUSE OF THE MIRAGE WAS RESERVED IN THE NAME OF ONE VICTOR TAMATSURA.
She had been right. After sorting through ten more pages of data, he considered Michael Lee an insignificant man. He searched through the sub- section of Johnny Lo, and hoped she had a plan on how to handle the man. There was enough in the file to convince Grissom that he should be afraid of Johnny Lo. He closed Lee's file and opened the one for Victor Tamatsura.
VICTOR TAMATSURA, AGED 62. TAMATSURA IS HEAD OF THE NORTH AMERICAN SECTION OF THE YAKUZA. THE MAN HAS A REPUTATION AS THE MOST BLOODTHIRSTY MEMBER OF THE ASIAN GANG LORDS. IN 1956, HE CUT THE THROAT OF HIS YOUNGEST SISTER FOR THE DISHONOR SHE HAD BROUGHT TO THE YAKUZA. IN 1964, HE BEHEADED HIS WIFE FOR LOOKING AT ANOTHER MAN. REMARRIED IN 1970. ONE SON FROM SECOND MARRIAGE, DAVID TAMATSURA. IN 1990, VICTOR MURDERED HIS SON FOR GIVING UNITED STATES ATTORNEY GENERAL ENOUGH INFORMATION TO INDITE FOR 38 COUNTS OF MURDER. (SEE ATTACHED FILE OF CIA INDEPENDENT CONTRACTOR MOIRA KELLY) TAMATSURA LEFT THE BODIES OF HIS SON, ALONG WITH KELLY'S TWO BROTHERS AND HUSBAND ON HER FRONT LAWN IN IRELAND. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL ALSO MET AN UNTIMELY DEATH (FOUL PLAY IS SUSPECTED - BUT NOTHING WAS OFFICIALLY PROVEN)
Grissom began to visibly tremble. This man was the devil himself. Moira reached over his shoulder and closed the laptop. He was finding it hard to breathe. He shot out of his chair and she grabbed his arm. "How can we stop him? How can we beat a monster like that? Jesus, he killed his own family - and yours!" He tried to pace but Moira held onto his arm. He felt like a caged animal. She held his face in her hands.
"Gil!" she called loudly to get his attention. His eyes snapped to her face. "Do you trust me?" he nodded at her. "Then trust that I will get you through this - very much alive. I've dealt with these animals before, you'll get out of this." A thought suddenly occurred to him.
"What about you?"
"I'd like to think I'll get through this alive, but I'm not making any promises in that department. My life may be the price of ending this once and for all." That wasn't an answer Grissom was willing to accept.
"No! You can't mean that."
"Why not? Victor has killed the rest of my family, I'm not afraid to die if it means ridding the world of someone like him." She stated plainly.
"What about Jim? He's your family." Grissom asked.
"He is. And Jimmy knows my position on this. And he respects it. There are bigger issues here than just my life. Gil, don't misunderstand me, I don't want to die. But if it becomes necessary - I'm ready to go." She sat him down at the table. Moira felt she had to make him understand this. "I was born and raised in Belfast, Ireland. It was a war zone, and most of us that survived the neighborhoods - grew to be soldiers. We were forced to survive in a different realm than everyone else. You truly have no comprehension of what an animal is until you see a man smile at you, as he's throwing a grenade into the car that is carrying your parents and two younger siblings. I was ten years old when that happened. My parents were killed outright - as well as my younger sister Kathleen. Danny wasn't so lucky. The explosion ignited the petrol in the car." She rolled up her sleeves and showed him the burns on her arms. "I pulled him out of the car myself and rolled him on the ground until he was out. The man just laughed as my brother laid on the ground writhing in pain." Grissom wondered what could have possibly been going on in the mind of this innocent ten year old. He could clearly see that that was the moment that her innocence died. "That man was my first kill. I stabbed him in the throat with his own knife. I carried Danny 4 miles to a hospital then walked another 12 to turn myself into the police. After 3 months of torture and confinement, Jimmy's dad applied pressure on the U.S. government to get me released. My own mum was a U.S. Citizen. Four days after Uncle Frank called, the British government 'found' the evidence to prove I acted under extenuating circumstances. Let's just say I was a different person after that."
"You didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting your family." Grissom trailed his finger along her jaw. She gave him a sad smile.
"That's what Jimmy said when me and my two brothers came to live with them. But that man may have killed my family - but once I pulled Danny out of the car, he made no motion towards us. He was no threat. My killing him was revenge.plain and simple. The revenge was never mine to take." Grissom understood what she was referring to.
"Revenge is mine, thus sayeth the lord?" he supplied. "Don't you ever think he might have been using you to exact his revenge?" It was an honest question.
"It's a nice thought. I tried to make amends for the life I took. That's why I do what I do. I try and protect innocent people from the many monsters that walk this Earth. My soul will have a lot to answer for when my time comes, I can face that. But you need to know that I'm going to have to do some things that you might find detestable. Things that you yourself have put people in jail for. Don't mourn for me, Gil. I don't deserve it. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not a good person." Grissom didn't believe that for a second. And he wondered if Jim knew she felt like this. While he didn't believe she was a bad person, he was in a bit of a quandary regarding what she was going to have to do. Wasn't it his job to arrest people that did what she might have to do? Was it fair to her to need her help to stay alive, then turn around and use her actions to send her to prison? He decided that they would cross that bridge when they came to it. 'Avoidance, Gil. That always worked.' He thought to himself, sarcastically.
"How much penance do you think you have to do? You've lost your family, your brothers, and your husband. I'm not going to judge you.because quite frankly, I'm not qualified. You've lost everything, yet, you still persevere." He encouraged her to sit in the chair next to him. She gave him one of those all knowing smiles.
"Not quite everything. Jimmy protects my most prized possession."
"Come on, let's eat." He wanted to desperately change the subject. "We're in for company in the morning." In the two days Grissom had known her, he believed her to be a godsend. She was an absolute angel as far as he was concerned. He just wished he knew how to tell her that. She served the meal. And as she started to pick up her fork, Grissom grabbed her hand. Which, on second thought, he considered a bit foolish. Don't grab a woman who can kill people with her bare hands. But he smiled when she didn't even flinch, or tense up. "Thank you.for all this. For before, on the couch." She squeezed his hand gently. Grissom was a bit embarrassed that he lost it in front of her. But he could see that clearly, she understood. He owed it to her to extend her the same courtesy. They spoke about their pasts over dinner. Grissom gave a wry smile.
"What?" she wondered.
"I was just thinking what the crew wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall, right now. Even though I don't have any complaints..something tells me you're not exactly known for your people skills either." She shook her head and laughed. They finished dinner and went into the living room to finish their conversation. Moira took a seat on the couch while Grissom went to the radio. "What will it be?" he asked, holding up three CD's "Brahms, Puccini or Miles Davis?" 'Interesting choices,' she thought.
"The Brahms, please." Grissom put the CD on continual play and joined her on the couch. In the next two hours, the distance between them had closed to a minimum - both emotionally and physically. She shared her memories growing up in Belfast - the good ones AND the bad ones. And he told her about hid father leaving and growing up the only child of a deaf woman. **Do you sign?** She signed to him.
**Yes. I don't get much chance to practice any more. Where did you learn?** he signed back.
**My brother, Danny. The explosion in the car ruptured his eardrums. 100% hearing loss. We all learned to sign after that. Though Jimmy really never got the hang of it.**
Grissom could see the sadness in her eyes when she talked about Danny. "You loved him very much," he stated. She nodded.
"I was responsible for him. He was younger than me and he overcame so much in his life. He was so kind.and so good." she trailed off hoping Gil didn't notice how close her voice was to breaking. He did. Family was the chink in this woman's armor. By all outward appearances, she was a warrior. Someone hard as steel - someone to be feared. Seeing her like this was a revelation. She was kind, and gentle.and very vulnerable. It was a side of herself he was sure she rarely showed anyone. Maybe it was his connection with Jim that made her feel comfortable enough to share it with him. Whatever it was, he felt blessed to be included. The more he heard, the more Grissom wanted to know about her. It wasn't fair that she blamed herself for the deaths of her family. The circumstances were beyond her control. He reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Tell me about him," he said. She took a shaky breath and proceeded. She told him about her brothers. After that, he got her to tell him about her husband. He was surprised to hear that the man would have been the same age Grissom was now - if he had lived. He had never been blessed enough to love someone like that.so he could only imagine the horror of finding their bodies. As she talked about them, he came to realize what an amazing woman Moira Kelly was. She had seen more violence and death than he had in his almost 25 years on the job. While that would harden most people - Moira still managed to hang on to the passion and goodness inside. You just had to chip through the anger and grief to get to it.
CSI LAB - 3 DAYS LATER
Grissom was carrying the stack of files Catherine had brought him to work on two days ago. It felt good to actually have something to occupy his mind. Moira spent most of the time on her phone or her laptop. He got the feeling that the workings of a feasible plan were starting to fall into place. The receptionist welcomed him back. He thanked her and proceeded to head toward his office. Moira noticed she pushed a button on her headset.
"He's on his way," the receptionist whispered. She shook her head. 'Good thing Jimmy briefed me on the welcome back party, or that little covert action might have gotten the receptionist hurt,' she thought. They were almost to the door when Brass called out from the break room.
"Grissom, we're down here." She followed as he walked down to the break room. When they came in, the whole crew began clapping. There was a cake on the table along with a couple of presents. Moira just stood in the background while his friends welcomed him back. Catherine cut the cake - which Nick and Warrick had wanted her to do for two hours.
"Just what those two need, a sugar high," Brass mused. "Just restrict Sanders to one piece?" he begged Catherine. Moira noticed a man at the end of the hall. He was about 50 yards away and heading straight for them. She had had Paddy do a run of all the Lab employees, including cops. This guy was wearing a $2000 suit; he obviously didn't work for the police department. She drew her weapon and ducked further into the break room. He clearly hadn't seen her yet. Almost if by telepathy, Brass drew his weapon.
"Where is the lab rat, anyways?" Nick asked, oblivious as to what was about to happen. Both Catherine and Grissom saw Moira curled inside the doorframe ready to pounce. She maneuvered him to the farthest point from the door and pushed him down behind a table for some cover. Warrick and Sara had already drawn their guns as well. Nick and Catherine drew theirs and stayed close to Grissom to protect him.
Greg had to process one last piece of evidence for day shift. He quickly placed his samples in the spectrometer and hurried down to the break room for Grissom's party. Catherine had been teasing him all day about the cake, and work completed - he wanted a piece. He was a few steps from the door when a hand reached out a pulled him into the room.
"Down!" Moira yelled. She had hoped she would be able to grab him before the suit fired his gun. Greg hit the floor with a thud. He wasn't sure what hurt more, the impact of the fall - or the burning in his shoulder. Moira fired four shots into the man's torso before she realized he had body armor on. "Jimmy!" she called out.
"We got him! Go!" Brass replied. She took one step out the door and the frame was sprayed with bullets from the other end of the hall. She stepped back into the room and drew her other weapon. She dropped both clips and replaced them with the armor-piercing rounds. Jim watched her take three big breaths, steeling her resolve. She stood at an angle with her back to the open door. She held the guns tight to her chest. Brass counted silently .one, two, three. When he hit three, Moira pushed of with her legs so that she slid out into the hall on her back. She extended both weapons - one toward each gunman - and fired. The outside of the break room window was coated with blood and grey matter when two bullets pierced the suit's skull. She managed to put two shots into the man with the automatic weapon, but he kept firing. She never gave him a chance to compensate. She rolled the other gun and squeezed off two to the head and two to the chest. Moira sprang to her feet and hugged the wall for cover in case there were anymore.
"Jimmy!" Brass stepped out into the hall. She motioned for him to take one end while she took the other. Grissom's heart was beating so hard that he could hear his pulse in his ears. When Jim stepped out into the hallway, he stood up. Greg was lying on the floor, just inside the door. Blood colored the left shoulder of his lab coat. He grabbed the towel and went to the young man's side.
"Hold still, Greg." He pressed the towel to his shoulder to staunch the flow of blood. Sanders winced with the pressure.
"He shot me!" he couldn't believe it. "Grissom, he shot me!" The kid was in shock.
"I know, hold still." He said again. He opened the towel and formed a bandage. He tied it tight around his shoulder. Nick and Warrick had taken up positions on each side of the door. They checked out in the hall and saw the bodies at each end.
"Damn!" Warrick said. His voice carrying some admiration for Moira's handiwork. They stepped outside into the hall and followed Moira and Brass' paths down the hall. Warrick ended up at the front of the building. He heard three shots and thought the worst since he knew her guns had silencers. There was squealing of tires and three more shots. He ran out to the front door and saw Brass and his cousin firing at a car speeding off.
"Did you get it?" she asked Jim. He nodded and withdrew a pen to scribble the license number on his hand. "Let's get back in there." She looked at Warrick. "Sanders OK?" she asked him.
"Yeah, shoulder shot. Grissom's got pressure on the wound." He explained. "What the hell was that?" he asked. His head was still somewhat spinning at how fast everything went down.
"That, Mr. Brown, is what happens when someone pays fifteen million dollars to see you dead." He suddenly felt scared for Grissom. They walked back into the station. "There's another body behind the desk," she told him sadly. The receptionist that they had passed not twenty minutes ago was laying in a pool of her own blood. It was flowing from the gaping hole in her chest. Warrick pulled a glove from his pocket and reached down to close her eyes. They could hear sirens in the distance and knew it was the ambulance. "Warrick, can you stay here and show them where to go?" Moira asked. He nodded. They headed back to the break room. Grissom was standing in the middle of the room pacing. He was furious. Catherine and Sara were pleading with him to calm down. 'How dare they? How dare they come in here?' he was thinking. He looked up from his brooding when Moira stood in the doorway. He had actually been more worried for her than for himself.
**You OK?** he signed to her. She nodded.
**Are You?** he shook his head.
**This has to stop. This has to stop!** The sharpness and intensity of his signing was broadcasting his anger.
**I know. I'll take care of it.** She signed to him. Brass smiled at the shocked looks on the faces of the other CSI's.
**I've had enough of this. I want to be there when you take them down.** She was about to say no, but he continued. **I have to be there, Moira. Especially now.** he looked at Greg. She knew he felt responsible for the kid's injuries. And once he found out about the dead receptionist, she wouldn't be able to keep him away.
"All right. But when it comes time, you follow my orders to the letter," She sighed. He agreed.
"Nick, I want you and Sara to stand by those bodies. I don't want people contaminating my scene. Catherine, you, Nick and I will process him," he pointed at the blood spray on the window of the break room. "Sara, you and Warrick will process the other one." The CSI's smiled. This sounded like their boss. Grissom was back, and he looked mad. The Paramedics came in and set up their stretcher to load Greg. He didn't want to look like a sissy in front of three beautiful women, so he pushed them away.
"I can do it!" he growled. He struggled for a moment before a hand appeared in front of his face. He looked up to see Grissom offering to help him up. He took the man's hand and felt himself being pulled to his feet. "Thanks," he mumbled. Sander's walked to the stretcher and sat down. Brass gave the license number he had written down to Nick.
"I'll go with Sanders." He offered. Greg would have preferred one of the women go with him, but he knew they now had a sizable crime scene to process. Brass got on the phone to make sure his favorite CSI crew would be looked after while he was gone. He figured beefing up the police presence at the lab would hinder anyone who decided to try an encore performance of this evening.
"Thanks, Jim," Grissom replied. The Paramedics had Sanders belted to the stretcher and were ready to go.
"Keep an eye on them until I can get you help here?" Brass asked his cousin. She nodded. He hugged her tight - these close calls were murder on his nerves. He had to keep reminding himself that she was good at her job. But that didn't mean it would hurt any less if she were killed. "I'm glad you're all right," he whispered to her. She had told Grissom that they were close - and it wasn't until that moment that he understood just how close.
"I'm fine, Jimmy. Go on. I got things here," there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she did.
"All right, folks. Let's get to work."
Chapter: 2/? Author: Brutal Howell E-Mail: brutal_howell@hotmail.com Category: Drama/Romance/Angst/General Pairing: Grissom/Original Character Rating: R Summary: Grissom learns more about his shadow.and the man that wants him dead. Greg takes one for the team. Spoiler: Just Chapter 1 of this very story. Might want to read that one first - or this won't make sense. Feedback: Don't make me beg. Disclaimer: See Ch. 1 Author's notes: Be patient with me folks, this is only the second fanfic I have ever written. And I'm writing all these off the top of my head. No notes, just what I've gathered from watching the show and my own studies as a Paramedic/Criminologist. (Sue, forgive me if I offended. While I understand your point about Tong and Yakuza - 1. While rare, in mob families, marriages are sometimes arranged to create a power base. Being of Italian/Irish heritage [with mob ties on both sides] We have seen it. 2. Michael Lee - while being Chinese, I never specified that he was with the Tong. And 3. It's fiction. I will try to stay true to the facts.but I may, on occasion, take some liberties to help the plot flow a little smoother. Again.If I offend, I apologize. Thank you for specifying that I had the right names with the right nationalities. I wasn't sure because I just made the names up. For csi_sleuth, Marion is who Moira becomes when I go without sleep for 52 straight hours. With finals in analytical chemistry and pharmacology this week alone, I'm surprised Marion didn't pop up more than the 4 times I typed her in. Sorry to those who got confused at the tail end of Chapter 1. Thank you to the nine people who reviewed the first chapter. I never received that many for any single chapter on my other fic. Please, keep them coming.especially you, Sue. I can promise that I will do my best to stay true to the wonderful personalities that the cast of CSI have bestowed on their alter egos. By the way, the sentences that appear between (**) are Grissom and Moira signing to each other. I'm fried.it's Finals week at the end of the semester. Don't know how long it will be before I can post Chapter three. And now.on with the show.
For Honor and Glory
Chapter 2
By
Brutal Howell
The Learning Curve
HOSPITAL - MORNING
Moira knew that Grissom was awake, but she kept her eyes closed in the hope that he would just go back to sleep. When he rolled on to his good side, it was obvious that he was up for the day. Grissom's mind was working over-time. He glanced at his watch and realized he had only been sleeping for five hours.
"How's the head?" she stood and stretched her long frame. He felt his body respond to the action. It took several seconds for it to register that he had been staring. "Gil?" He forced his brain to take over again. "How are you feeling?" she asked. Moira had to smile. 'Hope you enjoyed the look, Mr. Grissom.' She thought.
"The pain has subsided to a dull thud." Moira knew from his medical file that he was prone to debilitating migraines. Thank God Brass had thought to bring his pills with a change of clothes last night. "Nothing I can't handle."
"Well, I have some good news - doctor came by here while you were sleeping. They'll be taking that chest tube out within the hour. They have to sedate you again, but once you wake up.you can go home." He didn't like the idea of being sedated again. Moira recognized the apprehension in his eyes. "I'll never be more than ten steps away at any given time." She reaffirmed. His sheepish smile was enough to confirm her suspicions. "It's alright to be scared, Gil. You're a man who likes simplicity and order to his world. Within a week, everything you know has been turned upside down. It's enough to rattle anyone." She gently placed her hand over his. "No one is going to think any less of you." At her touch, every nerve ending in his body was sparking. Grissom was stunned - this woman he had never met, was reading him like an open book. She was a complete enigma to him. And he was aware that she preferred it that way. Moira got the feeling that he was looking at her like one of his experiments. A puzzle to be solved. She just stood there and let him look. Their little staring contest was broken up by a knock on the wall.
"Jimmy!" she hugged her cousin.
"Am I interrupting something?" Brass had noticed the electricity passing between them last night. Today it was back again. He passed a bag over to Moira, "I brought you two some REAL breakfast. Hospital food should be against the law." He dug a small case out of his pocket. "Before I forget, here's the item you asked me to get." She opened the case and took out the small silver crucifix. She dangled the item from its chain in front of Grissom.
"This is for you," she explained. Grissom had always believed in God. But the day his dad walked out on him and his mom.he stopped having faith. He hadn't practiced any sort of religion since he was six. So he didn't know how he felt about wearing a religious symbol around his neck.
"A crucifix?" he asked. Moira picked up on the mood change - she would appeal to the practical side of the man.
"This isn't just a crucifix. It has a tracking device in it," she pressed a button on her watch and showed him. The traditional face of the watch had been replaced. Instead there was a readout screen indicating the location of the crucifix. "There is also a distress mechanism in here. Compress the sides of the cross toward the center," he reached up and did so. The signal on her watch was brighter and it was now emitting a high pitch beep. As she moved her watch closer to the crucifix, the beeping sped up - and it slowed when she moved it away. "It's just a precaution, in case we get separated." Grissom didn't like the sound of that. He wondered what his life span would be if that happened. Both Moira and Brass noticed the slight shake of his hand when he took the crucifix from her and slid it around his neck.
"Gil, we're just trying to prepare for all possibilities. OK?" he was trying to comfort his friend. He got the feeling that Grissom had no idea what he was in for. Jim was worried about him. But he also knew that the only way Moira would ever leave the man's side was if she was dead. Which is why she had given him the twin to her receiver watch. If Tamatsura managed to get the best of her, she was giving him a way to find the CSI. Grissom understood about covering all your bases.things were less likely to go wrong that way. But his life had never been on the line before. He just nodded at Brass. They were interrupted by the doctor.
"Are you ready to get that chest tube out, Mr. Grissom?" The CSI let it stand as a rhetorical question. "The OR is all ready for you." The doctor said as two orderlies came to prepare him for the trip. One of them looked at the crucifix and Gil shook his head.
"This stays." He said with a great deal of conviction. Moira was pleasantly surprised. She hadn't expected him to take to the idea of wearing it so quickly. What she didn't realize is that while he didn't like what it stood for, he saw it as a lifeline - of sorts. It was a lifeline to the woman who wanted to keep him alive, at all costs. And he was beginning to feel that its presence could be somewhat soothing. When the orderly reached for it, Moira's hand shot out and grabbed his. She pressed her thumb down hard on the pressure point in between his thumb and forefinger. The man winced and jerked his hand away.
"He said it stays. It's not in your way - leave it." She growled. Grissom was again thankful for Moira. This whole contract thing was going to turn his life upside down - and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she would have broken that orderly's arm to get him the small concession he craved. Only Brass saw the humor in it.
"This has got to be a new one for you, Gil. A woman who's willing to maim for you." He teased. Moira blushed when she noticed Jimmy's smirk. The doctor conceded the point and Grissom was allowed to keep the crucifix on. They wheeled him to the OR she had picked out. It had only one entrance, so he would be easier to guard in there. She had had Paddy run a check on the two people that were going to be in there with them - both came up clean. Brass volunteered to wait outside until they were done. Moira stood next to the operating table. She had demanded that all drugs and instruments still be in their packaging when they got there. It would take longer to remove the chest tube.but it was the only way for her to guarantee that he was getting the treatment he was supposed to. The nurse injected the sedative into his IV. As he started to lose consciousness, Moira smiled at him. She was surprised when he reached out and grabbed her hand.
"I'll be here the whole time," she told him as she entwined her fingers with his. It was the last thing Grissom heard before his world went black.
GIL GRISSOM'S HOUSE - EVENING
It had taken an additional three hours for Grissom to wake up after they removed the chest tube. Moira saw the relief on his face as he opened his eyes and saw her there. She reminded him that she didn't make promises she couldn't keep. He was surprised to see that she had everything packed and ready to go when he woke. He was a bit uncomfortable when she helped him change his shirt - until she pointed out that she had seen his chest when she did the pleural decompression on him at the warehouse. Three more days off work - doctor's orders - and he could at least pretend things were somewhat normal. Normal, he almost snorted at that. He would attempt to gather and process evidence to convict criminals - all the while being hunted by the father of a criminal. The irony was not lost on him. The only thing standing between Michael Lee and him, was a woman who didn't know him from Adam . and seemed to be even less of an open book than he was. As Moira parked the SUV in his driveway, Grissom began to notice the subtle changes. There were curtains instead of blinds on his windows. She held up a device and pressed it. He heard the subtle beep of something disengaging. She noticed his puzzled expression.
"Proximity sensors. I'll reset them once we're inside." She explained. She came around the other side and helped him out of the SUV. He could see she held a gun in her left hand. Her stance was close enough to offer cover if they were attacked. She stopped and checked the trap she had placed on his front door. It was still intact - she maneuvered him through the front door. She closed the door behind them and motioned him to stand where he was. He knew she was checking the rest of the house. Five minutes later, he flinched when she turned on the living room light. He hadn't even heard her return. "Sorry," she smiled sheepishly. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lit interior. The curtains that covered his windows were a lot thicker than normal. "Blackout curtains." She told him. "They're on all your windows and they have to stay closed at all times. They don't allow light in or out. Snipers can't shoot what they can't see.it was the only way I could get you at least some freedom in your own house - wish I could do more." Was she serious? Grissom thought. He had a feeling that these weren't the only changes she had made. When she pulled back a corner of the curtains and used the same device to reset the proximity sensors, he vaguely felt like he was living in Fort Knox. "I had Jimmy tell your people if they wanted to stop by, call first. I can't have them setting off my traps. We had your mail re-routed to a post-office box. Jimmy will pick it up for the next 3 days, then you can pick it up yourself." He didn't like that idea.but he couldn't let the mailman set off Moira's traps either. "Catherine stocked the fridge and the cupboards.no more carry-out, for a while." She gave him a wry smile. Jim had briefed her on some of Grissom's habits.
"Jim has a big mouth," he smiled back. He knew full well whom her source was for that little tid-bit. He shrugged; a little home cooking might do him some good. He noticed the five cases in the corner of his living room. "What are those?" he wondered exactly what kind of security she was implementing here.
"My arsenal," she stated simply.
"Excuse me?"
"That," she pointed to the cases, "is the typical arsenal I take on particularly difficult cases. There are guns, knives, grenades of all kinds.and little gadgets developed by my guy back in Dublin. Necessary things. which reminds me." She went over to one of the cases and pulled out a kevlar vest. "When we go outside, this becomes part of your wardrobe." She handed it to him. He hated wearing Kevlar; it always made him feel like he was wearing a pizza oven. But he wasn't going to argue with her about it though. Not until he knew this whole situation had been dealt with. He just nodded. He felt a sense of relief when she took her jacket off. She was armed to the teeth. A gun under each arm along with one in the small of her back. All three were equipped with silencers, and it looked like almost ten magazines of spare ammo. Strapped to each of her forearms had a small case with throwing knives. There was also a small case on her belt.
"You look like you're prepared for WWIII," he said in shock. "Just how many weapons are you carrying?" he asked. She seemed to do a quick tally in her head.
"I might as well tell you all of them. If I go down for some reason, you may have to defend yourself." He didn't like to think about her getting killed, but he could see the wisdom in her telling him. "There are four guns, these three plus a .38 in the ankle holster," she lifted her pant leg to show him. "Ten mags of armor piercing ammo for the Sig-Sauers, and two speed loaders for the .38. I have fifteen knives - six on each forearm, two tucked behind the Sigs on each shoulder holster, and one in a calf sheath." His eyes went wide when she continued. "The small case on my hip has 6 throwing stars. They probably won't do you any good unless you know how to throw them. The longer case is an extending baton. Also, if you need a spare Kevlar, take mine. At that point, I won't need it." He looked her up and down - trying to figure out how a woman who was roughly 5'10" tall could carry 26 weapons on her body.
"Do you really think it will get that bad?" Grissom asked. She motioned for him to have a seat.
"Gil, Victor Tamatsura is known for holding grudges for years. The man assassinated my husband and two brothers because his son gave me the goods to bring him down. He is a very bad man.and in his mind, he has a reason to hate you." She explained. All of a sudden Grissom thought he was going to be sick.
"There is only one way to end this, isn't there?" She nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"Either he dies.or you do." That was enough to make him throw up. Moira grabbed the garbage can and held it while he doubled over and promptly vomited what little he had eaten for lunch. She rubbed small, comforting circles on his back. "It's OK, Gil. I won't let him get near you." The contents of his stomach emptied, he now had to deal with the dry heaves. Each heave sent a wave of pain across his injured lung. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his shaking form. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when he started to cry. She expected him to have some sort of a breakdown. Why shouldn't he? He was a civilian who was now in the targets of the devil himself - for nothing more than doing his job. Better he gets it over with now - rather than when they were under attack. Moira took the garbage can from him and set it on the floor. She encouraged him to lie down as she sat on the edge of the couch. She pulled his head into her lap. "Shhhhh..get some sleep, Gil." She began to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture. Just like she used to do for her husband. An image of what her mind's eye thought her husband would look like if he had lived to see his 40's superimposed itself over Grissom's image for a moment. She shook her head slightly to clear it. She felt a pang of sadness - but her loss wasn't important, she had done her grieving. Grissom just laid there and cried while the weight of his situation hit him. "I'll watch over you, I promise." She wiped the tears away with her thumb. "Shhhh, It'll be all right. You have a lot of people pulling for you, Gil Grissom." She gave him a gentle smile. "Come on, you know you're a good boss when one of your employees is willing to give me his life savings for you." That brought a smile to Grissom's face. She was right, they weren't just a crew. He had long come to consider the other CSI's on his shift as family. He and Catherine as the parents, Warrick, Nick, Sara and Greg as the children. Moira placed her palm against Grissom's cheek. "I promise you, I'll kill Tamatsura before he gets you." She didn't know what made her promise something like that. Her business was a strange one.and the simplest mistakes could result in death for anyone. She resolved not to make those mistakes. Tamatsura had already shown his hand by not covering his connection to Johnny Lee. But the man had always been arrogant. She gave Grissom a half-smile. Victor's arrogance would be his downfall. The CSI didn't know why he believed her. But he felt safe while she was here. He closed his eyes as she wiped away the last of his tears. She laid one hand in the middle of his chest and continued her gentle touches on his face and hair with the other one. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. Moira just leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes.
Two hours later, Moira's phone rang, waking them both. She gently helped Grissom sit up before she answered it. She recognized the phone number as Paddy's. "What have you got for me, Paddy?" she listened attentively to the information he was relaying. Grissom was about to ask about it when his phone rang.
"Hello?"
Gris, It's Sara.
"Hi, Sara." Moira picked up on the exhaustion in his voice. Unfortunately, so did Sara.
You OK? she asked. You up for a visit? he suspected that she wasn't just talking about herself.
"Can we make it for the morning? I'm kind of tired." He told her. He needed at least the night to build up his defenses again.
Sure. Brass already warned us about your new bulldog, So I'll make sure to call first. he could tell she was teasing, but he really wasn't in the mood. And it was the strangest thing - he actually found himself getting defensive about the nickname Sara had just given Moira.
"She has a name, Sara." He stated completely annoyed. "I would appreciate if you call her by that.not 'the bulldog." He was surprised to hear Moira chuckle at that. When he glanced at her, she mouthed the words 'The Bulldog?' at him. He just nodded.
Jeez, Grissom, little touchy aren't we? she really didn't mean any offense. She cut herself off before she turned it into a debate. See you in the morning? We'll bring breakfast. 'We,' confirmed what he had suspected. Say, 8am?
"OK, see you then." He sighed. When he hung up, he could tell Moira was just rounding up her phone call as well. She closed her cell phone and then flashed him a mega-watt smile. "Good news?" he asked.
"Some. Michael Lee just checked into the Sands hotel. There is also a reservation that showed up on the Mirage guest register about 20 minutes ago." She trailed off allowing him to supply his own answer.
"Victor Tamatsura?" he asked. She nodded. "Your people work fast."
"We don't have take the mountain to Mohammed, he'll be bringing himself to us in four weeks." Grissom didn't know whether to be happy, or scared shitless. Either way, things would be decided within the month. She could see the fear playing across his normally stoic face. She took a knee in front of him and held his hand between both of hers. "I meant what I said, Gil. In four weeks, Victor Tamatsura will die." He tried to force a smile.
"I'm going to get a shower," he desperately needed some time to think. Moira nodded and stood to get out of his way. She watched him go into the bathroom and then decided to start dinner for them. She would get some work done on her laptop while it was cooking. After 40 minutes, she started to head upstairs to check on Grissom. She was beginning to get worried since he hadn't come out from his shower. As she got to the top of the stairs, the bathroom door opened. He was standing in the doorway in his jeans - toweling off his hair. He needed Moira's help to get another shirt on. The sight of him standing there, shirtless, damp - and vulnerable was enough to knock the wind out of her. She vaguely wondered where that feeling came from. No man had been able to even pique a slight interest in the twelve years since her husband was killed. Now here was this scientist friend of Jimmy's was stirring up some very old feelings. "I need your help with the shirt." When he noticed her staring, he was caught like a deer in a headlight himself. He always considered himself a very dull looking guy - was never into appearance, his studies were always more important. And now he had a stunningly beautiful woman looking at him like he was the next course of the buffet. The Twilight Zone his life had become was getting stranger and stranger. He couldn't help blushing under her scrutiny, "Moira?" he said a little louder. That forced her to snap out of whatever haze she was in. She cursed herself when she noticed his knowing smile. 'Whoa! Can't let that happen again.' She thought.
"Yeah?" she tried to cover her earlier behavior.
"Can you help me with this shirt?" He held up a denim shirt that buttoned down the front. "I'm still having some trouble." She was grateful for the distraction. She took the shirt and helped him into it. Dinner was starting to make itself known. The wonderful aromas from downstairs made Grissom's stomach rumble. "That smells amazing!"
"I hope you like Chicken Alfredo," she was happy that he wanted to eat. Even from what she noticed before, he normally didn't have much of an appetite. He sniffed the air again.
"With Garlic Bread?" she smiled and nodded. He started to make his way downstairs.
"Catherine really stocked your fridge with the good stuff. We even have appetizers," She motioned for him to sit at the table where she had set up a place for him to eat.
"You're not eating?" he asked. He almost sounded hurt. Grissom glanced over at the food she was cooking. "There's more than enough for both of us, Moira. Please, join me. You cooked it after all." She didn't think it was a good idea considering her reaction to him at the top of the stairs. She gave in when he started to grab another setting out of his cupboard. He set another place next to the one already there. "I insist."
"OK. Please, sit down. I'll get everything." When he sat down she got the shrimp cocktails she had made and put them on the table in front of him. She went back to finish the rest of the dinner. Grissom noticed her open laptop next to him, with a picture of an Asian man on the screen. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest.
"Is this him?" Moira looked up and cursed her stupidity at leaving the computer within his view. Jimmy had warned her that he had a curiosity that sometimes superceded his own common sense. She nodded.
"That's Victor Tamatsura. I took that picture for your FBI seven months ago." When he looked into the eyes of the man in the picture, he felt a shiver go up his spine. He turned when he felt the hand on his shoulder. "Kind of like the devil itself." She reached over and pointed to another man two steps behind Tamatsura. It was clear that the picture was taken to include the images of both men. "That is Michael Lee." An image clicked in Grissom's photographic memory.
"I remember him from the trial. He doesn't concern me as much as this one." He pointed at Tamatsura. Smart man, she thought. Good instincts.
"Michael Lee is nothing but a two-bit hood. He married into the Yakuza, but the Japanese won't accept him for obvious reasons." She could see him absorbing all this new info. She suddenly realized that she would need to include his input into this plan. If he was going down, he needed to go down fighting. Plus, he knew the town a lot better than she did. Maybe together, they could work out a feasible plan.or they could both be killed.
"He's Chinese."
"Right. But if the Tong ever captured him, he would be killed on the spot as the traitor he is. So he has to settle for being Victor's little lap dog." She pointed at Tamatsura in the picture, "Cut off the head of the dragon, and the body dies." Grissom sighed.he just hoped it was a dragon they were dealing with, and not a hydra. She closed the picture and pulled up a pair of files. "Read, while I finish dinner." She ordered. Grissom didn't want to know how Moira had compiled such a thorough file on each of these men. There looked like there were some CIA, FBI, and MI5 documents in each one. He read the summaries first.
MICHAEL LEE, AGED 52 YEARS. RIGHT-HAND MAN OF VICTOR TAMATSURA IN IMAGE ONLY. MARRIED TO HOSHI TAMATSURA IN DEC, 1974. ONE SON, JOHNNY - CURRENTLY AGED 23 YEARS. MICHEAL HAS NO REAL POWER OF HIS OWN, SO HE EXHAUSTS HIS ENERGIES INTO HIS FAMILY TO KEEP HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW HAPPY. TAMATSURA GIVES HIM ENOUGH WORK TO KEEP HIM BUSY, BUT SEEMS TO NOT TRUST HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST. ASSIGNS JOHNNY LO TO KEEP WATCH OVER HIM. LO RARELY LETS MICHEAL LEE OUT OF HIS SIGHT.
Grissom smirked at that. This Johnny Lo seemed to be Moira's counterpart. He pointed at another figure in the picture. "Is this Johnny Lo?" he asked. She looked where he was pointing. She nodded.
"Johnny is a very dangerous man. Makes a school of sharks look jovial." She still had to come up with a way to get Johnny out of the picture. "Now that Michael knows that I'm here, he'll probably send Johnny after you before Tamatsura shows up. Hell, he'll probably be chomping at the bit to get a piece of me." She smiled at him.
"Do I want to know why?" She laughed and shook her head.
"The scar and the eye-patch is my handiwork. If you look close at the picture, you'll also see that he's not using his left arm. Could have something to do with the fact that I gutted it last time we met." She shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm glad you're on my side," he smiled at her.
"Don't let what he's lacking physically fool you. Johnny Lo is smart. Probably even smarter than Victor. That makes him extremely dangerous." Why didn't that make Grissom feel any better?
BOTH MICHAEL LEE AND JOHNNY LO HAVE BEEN IN LAS VEGAS SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE TRIAL OF MICHEAL LEE'S SON, JOHNNY. THE BOY WAS CONVICTED OF 2 COUNTS OF PRE-MEDITATED MURDER. BUT HIS UNCLE'S WEALTH AND POWER BOUGHT HIM A PAIR OF LIFE SENTENCES, RATHER THAN DEATH. LEE'S ENTOURAGE HAS THE PENTHOUSE SUITE AT THE SANDS HOTEL AS OF TODAY. THE VACATED PENTHOUSE OF THE MIRAGE WAS RESERVED IN THE NAME OF ONE VICTOR TAMATSURA.
She had been right. After sorting through ten more pages of data, he considered Michael Lee an insignificant man. He searched through the sub- section of Johnny Lo, and hoped she had a plan on how to handle the man. There was enough in the file to convince Grissom that he should be afraid of Johnny Lo. He closed Lee's file and opened the one for Victor Tamatsura.
VICTOR TAMATSURA, AGED 62. TAMATSURA IS HEAD OF THE NORTH AMERICAN SECTION OF THE YAKUZA. THE MAN HAS A REPUTATION AS THE MOST BLOODTHIRSTY MEMBER OF THE ASIAN GANG LORDS. IN 1956, HE CUT THE THROAT OF HIS YOUNGEST SISTER FOR THE DISHONOR SHE HAD BROUGHT TO THE YAKUZA. IN 1964, HE BEHEADED HIS WIFE FOR LOOKING AT ANOTHER MAN. REMARRIED IN 1970. ONE SON FROM SECOND MARRIAGE, DAVID TAMATSURA. IN 1990, VICTOR MURDERED HIS SON FOR GIVING UNITED STATES ATTORNEY GENERAL ENOUGH INFORMATION TO INDITE FOR 38 COUNTS OF MURDER. (SEE ATTACHED FILE OF CIA INDEPENDENT CONTRACTOR MOIRA KELLY) TAMATSURA LEFT THE BODIES OF HIS SON, ALONG WITH KELLY'S TWO BROTHERS AND HUSBAND ON HER FRONT LAWN IN IRELAND. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL ALSO MET AN UNTIMELY DEATH (FOUL PLAY IS SUSPECTED - BUT NOTHING WAS OFFICIALLY PROVEN)
Grissom began to visibly tremble. This man was the devil himself. Moira reached over his shoulder and closed the laptop. He was finding it hard to breathe. He shot out of his chair and she grabbed his arm. "How can we stop him? How can we beat a monster like that? Jesus, he killed his own family - and yours!" He tried to pace but Moira held onto his arm. He felt like a caged animal. She held his face in her hands.
"Gil!" she called loudly to get his attention. His eyes snapped to her face. "Do you trust me?" he nodded at her. "Then trust that I will get you through this - very much alive. I've dealt with these animals before, you'll get out of this." A thought suddenly occurred to him.
"What about you?"
"I'd like to think I'll get through this alive, but I'm not making any promises in that department. My life may be the price of ending this once and for all." That wasn't an answer Grissom was willing to accept.
"No! You can't mean that."
"Why not? Victor has killed the rest of my family, I'm not afraid to die if it means ridding the world of someone like him." She stated plainly.
"What about Jim? He's your family." Grissom asked.
"He is. And Jimmy knows my position on this. And he respects it. There are bigger issues here than just my life. Gil, don't misunderstand me, I don't want to die. But if it becomes necessary - I'm ready to go." She sat him down at the table. Moira felt she had to make him understand this. "I was born and raised in Belfast, Ireland. It was a war zone, and most of us that survived the neighborhoods - grew to be soldiers. We were forced to survive in a different realm than everyone else. You truly have no comprehension of what an animal is until you see a man smile at you, as he's throwing a grenade into the car that is carrying your parents and two younger siblings. I was ten years old when that happened. My parents were killed outright - as well as my younger sister Kathleen. Danny wasn't so lucky. The explosion ignited the petrol in the car." She rolled up her sleeves and showed him the burns on her arms. "I pulled him out of the car myself and rolled him on the ground until he was out. The man just laughed as my brother laid on the ground writhing in pain." Grissom wondered what could have possibly been going on in the mind of this innocent ten year old. He could clearly see that that was the moment that her innocence died. "That man was my first kill. I stabbed him in the throat with his own knife. I carried Danny 4 miles to a hospital then walked another 12 to turn myself into the police. After 3 months of torture and confinement, Jimmy's dad applied pressure on the U.S. government to get me released. My own mum was a U.S. Citizen. Four days after Uncle Frank called, the British government 'found' the evidence to prove I acted under extenuating circumstances. Let's just say I was a different person after that."
"You didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting your family." Grissom trailed his finger along her jaw. She gave him a sad smile.
"That's what Jimmy said when me and my two brothers came to live with them. But that man may have killed my family - but once I pulled Danny out of the car, he made no motion towards us. He was no threat. My killing him was revenge.plain and simple. The revenge was never mine to take." Grissom understood what she was referring to.
"Revenge is mine, thus sayeth the lord?" he supplied. "Don't you ever think he might have been using you to exact his revenge?" It was an honest question.
"It's a nice thought. I tried to make amends for the life I took. That's why I do what I do. I try and protect innocent people from the many monsters that walk this Earth. My soul will have a lot to answer for when my time comes, I can face that. But you need to know that I'm going to have to do some things that you might find detestable. Things that you yourself have put people in jail for. Don't mourn for me, Gil. I don't deserve it. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not a good person." Grissom didn't believe that for a second. And he wondered if Jim knew she felt like this. While he didn't believe she was a bad person, he was in a bit of a quandary regarding what she was going to have to do. Wasn't it his job to arrest people that did what she might have to do? Was it fair to her to need her help to stay alive, then turn around and use her actions to send her to prison? He decided that they would cross that bridge when they came to it. 'Avoidance, Gil. That always worked.' He thought to himself, sarcastically.
"How much penance do you think you have to do? You've lost your family, your brothers, and your husband. I'm not going to judge you.because quite frankly, I'm not qualified. You've lost everything, yet, you still persevere." He encouraged her to sit in the chair next to him. She gave him one of those all knowing smiles.
"Not quite everything. Jimmy protects my most prized possession."
"Come on, let's eat." He wanted to desperately change the subject. "We're in for company in the morning." In the two days Grissom had known her, he believed her to be a godsend. She was an absolute angel as far as he was concerned. He just wished he knew how to tell her that. She served the meal. And as she started to pick up her fork, Grissom grabbed her hand. Which, on second thought, he considered a bit foolish. Don't grab a woman who can kill people with her bare hands. But he smiled when she didn't even flinch, or tense up. "Thank you.for all this. For before, on the couch." She squeezed his hand gently. Grissom was a bit embarrassed that he lost it in front of her. But he could see that clearly, she understood. He owed it to her to extend her the same courtesy. They spoke about their pasts over dinner. Grissom gave a wry smile.
"What?" she wondered.
"I was just thinking what the crew wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall, right now. Even though I don't have any complaints..something tells me you're not exactly known for your people skills either." She shook her head and laughed. They finished dinner and went into the living room to finish their conversation. Moira took a seat on the couch while Grissom went to the radio. "What will it be?" he asked, holding up three CD's "Brahms, Puccini or Miles Davis?" 'Interesting choices,' she thought.
"The Brahms, please." Grissom put the CD on continual play and joined her on the couch. In the next two hours, the distance between them had closed to a minimum - both emotionally and physically. She shared her memories growing up in Belfast - the good ones AND the bad ones. And he told her about hid father leaving and growing up the only child of a deaf woman. **Do you sign?** She signed to him.
**Yes. I don't get much chance to practice any more. Where did you learn?** he signed back.
**My brother, Danny. The explosion in the car ruptured his eardrums. 100% hearing loss. We all learned to sign after that. Though Jimmy really never got the hang of it.**
Grissom could see the sadness in her eyes when she talked about Danny. "You loved him very much," he stated. She nodded.
"I was responsible for him. He was younger than me and he overcame so much in his life. He was so kind.and so good." she trailed off hoping Gil didn't notice how close her voice was to breaking. He did. Family was the chink in this woman's armor. By all outward appearances, she was a warrior. Someone hard as steel - someone to be feared. Seeing her like this was a revelation. She was kind, and gentle.and very vulnerable. It was a side of herself he was sure she rarely showed anyone. Maybe it was his connection with Jim that made her feel comfortable enough to share it with him. Whatever it was, he felt blessed to be included. The more he heard, the more Grissom wanted to know about her. It wasn't fair that she blamed herself for the deaths of her family. The circumstances were beyond her control. He reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Tell me about him," he said. She took a shaky breath and proceeded. She told him about her brothers. After that, he got her to tell him about her husband. He was surprised to hear that the man would have been the same age Grissom was now - if he had lived. He had never been blessed enough to love someone like that.so he could only imagine the horror of finding their bodies. As she talked about them, he came to realize what an amazing woman Moira Kelly was. She had seen more violence and death than he had in his almost 25 years on the job. While that would harden most people - Moira still managed to hang on to the passion and goodness inside. You just had to chip through the anger and grief to get to it.
CSI LAB - 3 DAYS LATER
Grissom was carrying the stack of files Catherine had brought him to work on two days ago. It felt good to actually have something to occupy his mind. Moira spent most of the time on her phone or her laptop. He got the feeling that the workings of a feasible plan were starting to fall into place. The receptionist welcomed him back. He thanked her and proceeded to head toward his office. Moira noticed she pushed a button on her headset.
"He's on his way," the receptionist whispered. She shook her head. 'Good thing Jimmy briefed me on the welcome back party, or that little covert action might have gotten the receptionist hurt,' she thought. They were almost to the door when Brass called out from the break room.
"Grissom, we're down here." She followed as he walked down to the break room. When they came in, the whole crew began clapping. There was a cake on the table along with a couple of presents. Moira just stood in the background while his friends welcomed him back. Catherine cut the cake - which Nick and Warrick had wanted her to do for two hours.
"Just what those two need, a sugar high," Brass mused. "Just restrict Sanders to one piece?" he begged Catherine. Moira noticed a man at the end of the hall. He was about 50 yards away and heading straight for them. She had had Paddy do a run of all the Lab employees, including cops. This guy was wearing a $2000 suit; he obviously didn't work for the police department. She drew her weapon and ducked further into the break room. He clearly hadn't seen her yet. Almost if by telepathy, Brass drew his weapon.
"Where is the lab rat, anyways?" Nick asked, oblivious as to what was about to happen. Both Catherine and Grissom saw Moira curled inside the doorframe ready to pounce. She maneuvered him to the farthest point from the door and pushed him down behind a table for some cover. Warrick and Sara had already drawn their guns as well. Nick and Catherine drew theirs and stayed close to Grissom to protect him.
Greg had to process one last piece of evidence for day shift. He quickly placed his samples in the spectrometer and hurried down to the break room for Grissom's party. Catherine had been teasing him all day about the cake, and work completed - he wanted a piece. He was a few steps from the door when a hand reached out a pulled him into the room.
"Down!" Moira yelled. She had hoped she would be able to grab him before the suit fired his gun. Greg hit the floor with a thud. He wasn't sure what hurt more, the impact of the fall - or the burning in his shoulder. Moira fired four shots into the man's torso before she realized he had body armor on. "Jimmy!" she called out.
"We got him! Go!" Brass replied. She took one step out the door and the frame was sprayed with bullets from the other end of the hall. She stepped back into the room and drew her other weapon. She dropped both clips and replaced them with the armor-piercing rounds. Jim watched her take three big breaths, steeling her resolve. She stood at an angle with her back to the open door. She held the guns tight to her chest. Brass counted silently .one, two, three. When he hit three, Moira pushed of with her legs so that she slid out into the hall on her back. She extended both weapons - one toward each gunman - and fired. The outside of the break room window was coated with blood and grey matter when two bullets pierced the suit's skull. She managed to put two shots into the man with the automatic weapon, but he kept firing. She never gave him a chance to compensate. She rolled the other gun and squeezed off two to the head and two to the chest. Moira sprang to her feet and hugged the wall for cover in case there were anymore.
"Jimmy!" Brass stepped out into the hall. She motioned for him to take one end while she took the other. Grissom's heart was beating so hard that he could hear his pulse in his ears. When Jim stepped out into the hallway, he stood up. Greg was lying on the floor, just inside the door. Blood colored the left shoulder of his lab coat. He grabbed the towel and went to the young man's side.
"Hold still, Greg." He pressed the towel to his shoulder to staunch the flow of blood. Sanders winced with the pressure.
"He shot me!" he couldn't believe it. "Grissom, he shot me!" The kid was in shock.
"I know, hold still." He said again. He opened the towel and formed a bandage. He tied it tight around his shoulder. Nick and Warrick had taken up positions on each side of the door. They checked out in the hall and saw the bodies at each end.
"Damn!" Warrick said. His voice carrying some admiration for Moira's handiwork. They stepped outside into the hall and followed Moira and Brass' paths down the hall. Warrick ended up at the front of the building. He heard three shots and thought the worst since he knew her guns had silencers. There was squealing of tires and three more shots. He ran out to the front door and saw Brass and his cousin firing at a car speeding off.
"Did you get it?" she asked Jim. He nodded and withdrew a pen to scribble the license number on his hand. "Let's get back in there." She looked at Warrick. "Sanders OK?" she asked him.
"Yeah, shoulder shot. Grissom's got pressure on the wound." He explained. "What the hell was that?" he asked. His head was still somewhat spinning at how fast everything went down.
"That, Mr. Brown, is what happens when someone pays fifteen million dollars to see you dead." He suddenly felt scared for Grissom. They walked back into the station. "There's another body behind the desk," she told him sadly. The receptionist that they had passed not twenty minutes ago was laying in a pool of her own blood. It was flowing from the gaping hole in her chest. Warrick pulled a glove from his pocket and reached down to close her eyes. They could hear sirens in the distance and knew it was the ambulance. "Warrick, can you stay here and show them where to go?" Moira asked. He nodded. They headed back to the break room. Grissom was standing in the middle of the room pacing. He was furious. Catherine and Sara were pleading with him to calm down. 'How dare they? How dare they come in here?' he was thinking. He looked up from his brooding when Moira stood in the doorway. He had actually been more worried for her than for himself.
**You OK?** he signed to her. She nodded.
**Are You?** he shook his head.
**This has to stop. This has to stop!** The sharpness and intensity of his signing was broadcasting his anger.
**I know. I'll take care of it.** She signed to him. Brass smiled at the shocked looks on the faces of the other CSI's.
**I've had enough of this. I want to be there when you take them down.** She was about to say no, but he continued. **I have to be there, Moira. Especially now.** he looked at Greg. She knew he felt responsible for the kid's injuries. And once he found out about the dead receptionist, she wouldn't be able to keep him away.
"All right. But when it comes time, you follow my orders to the letter," She sighed. He agreed.
"Nick, I want you and Sara to stand by those bodies. I don't want people contaminating my scene. Catherine, you, Nick and I will process him," he pointed at the blood spray on the window of the break room. "Sara, you and Warrick will process the other one." The CSI's smiled. This sounded like their boss. Grissom was back, and he looked mad. The Paramedics came in and set up their stretcher to load Greg. He didn't want to look like a sissy in front of three beautiful women, so he pushed them away.
"I can do it!" he growled. He struggled for a moment before a hand appeared in front of his face. He looked up to see Grissom offering to help him up. He took the man's hand and felt himself being pulled to his feet. "Thanks," he mumbled. Sander's walked to the stretcher and sat down. Brass gave the license number he had written down to Nick.
"I'll go with Sanders." He offered. Greg would have preferred one of the women go with him, but he knew they now had a sizable crime scene to process. Brass got on the phone to make sure his favorite CSI crew would be looked after while he was gone. He figured beefing up the police presence at the lab would hinder anyone who decided to try an encore performance of this evening.
"Thanks, Jim," Grissom replied. The Paramedics had Sanders belted to the stretcher and were ready to go.
"Keep an eye on them until I can get you help here?" Brass asked his cousin. She nodded. He hugged her tight - these close calls were murder on his nerves. He had to keep reminding himself that she was good at her job. But that didn't mean it would hurt any less if she were killed. "I'm glad you're all right," he whispered to her. She had told Grissom that they were close - and it wasn't until that moment that he understood just how close.
"I'm fine, Jimmy. Go on. I got things here," there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she did.
"All right, folks. Let's get to work."