Chapter 18
Thursday 8:30am
Lou walked in and found Grissom already awake, looking out the window.
"Dr. Grissom, Mr. Braun wanted me to remind you of your appointment this morning."
"Thanks Lou. Is he around?" Grissom asked, gathering his belongings.
"No, we had a rough night. He's up in his suite, trying to catch some sleep. He wanted me to give this note to you." Lou said, handing him an envelope.
Grissom slipped it into his jacket pocket and left Sam's office. He took the elevator down and walked through the busy casino floor, retrieved his car from valet, and drove to Steven's office.
8:59am
Grissom walked into Steven's office, checked in with the receptionist, and sat down, trying to relax.
"Dr. Grissom, he's ready for you," a nurse said, from the doorway.
Grissom sighed and got up, following the nurse. He was ushered into an office.
"He'll be right with you."
"Thanks," Grissom said, turning his gaze to the contents of the bookcases.
Five minutes later, his perusal was interrupted.
"Morning, Grissom. Have a seat," Steven Siegel said, sitting behind his desk.
His red hair was smattered with white, but his blue eyes were bright behind the wire rim glasses. His beard was thick and matched the hair on his head. He thumbed through the file that Paul had sent from the hospital. Grissom fidgeted slightly, trying to get comfortable.
"You still taking the medication?"
"I skipped a couple of days," Grissom admitted.
"Okay, let's skip to the easy questions. How do you feel?"
"Fine, tired, but fine," Grissom said evenly.
"How are your migraines?"
"I had a rough time when this all started, between panic attacks and migraines, but I haven't had one in several days."
"When did you eat last?"
"Chinese at around nine last night. I woke up around two-thirty from a dream. I went out and I guess I was agitated. A friend gave me a bourbon and water."
"Did you calm down?"
"Yeah, I fell asleep,"
"Okay, let's see what's what." Steven said, closing the file, before leading him to an exam room.
"Strip and put the gown on opening to the back. Crack the door when you're ready."
Grissom waited for the door to close and did as he was told. He cracked the door and sat on the exam table. Steven walked in and started his basic exam, checking Grissom's eyes, ears, throat, and glands. He pulled out his stethoscope and slipped it down the front of Grissom's gown.
"Deep breath, again, and one more,"
He repositioned the stethoscope on Grissom's back.
"Okay, deep breath, again, again, good, now lie on your back."
Grissom lay back and tried to relax but his breathing started to quicken. Steven placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Easy, Grissom; nothing scary here. Okay? Nice and easy, start reciting the periodic tables," Steven said, familiar with this panic attack as it happened every time Grissom came in.
Grissom shut his eyes and proceeded to recite the periodic tables softly.
"A little louder, please, Grissom. I need to make sure you don't make a mistake." Steven joked as he eased Grissom's gown to his waist.
He checked his ribs, the incision, his hands, feet, and everything in between. Finally he, himself, drew blood.
"Grissom, stand up, face away from me; proctology." Steven said evenly.
Grissom did as he was told, continuing to recite the table.
"Okay, get dressed and come back to the office." Steven said, his voice soft and gentle.
The door closed and Grissom calmed visibly as he dressed quickly. He splashed water on his face before walking into Steven's office.
"Sit down, Grissom," Steven said, closing the door behind him.
"You're fine to go back to work. I called Andy and we're both concerned that you haven't returned to your stress-relieving programs that we set up. So, you are to run, box, or shoot at the range, no less than three times a week. You're still too wound up. Are you and Sara okay?"
"Yeah, we're great," Grissom said, his voice betraying him.
"Grissom, take care of the stress and the other will fade away. Trust me," Steven said, standing.
"Thanks,"
"You're welcome. I'll call you with the test results."
"Okay," Grissom said, glancing at his watch.
Grissom went to his car and drove to the police station for his eleven o'clock appointment. He pulled into the parking lot and reached into his pocket, pulling out his ID and clipping it to his pocket as he walked into the building. He waved at the receptionist and then knocked on Rory's door before walking in.
"I'm meeting with him now. Shouldn't be an issue. I'll call you." Rory said, hanging up.
"My friends checking up on me?" Grissom asked, sardonically.
"Did you pass the physical?"
"Yes,"
"There's been a murder and you have been requested to be the lead CSI."
"Oh?" Grissom asked, his eyebrows arched.
"Yes, if you're ready, we should go,"
"Go where?"
"To the crime scene," Rory said, grimly.
Grissom looked at his watch as he continued to follow Rory out into the desert. He picked up the phone and hit speed dial 81.
"Robbins,"
"Seb, it's Grissom. I have to cancel. I'm on my way out to a scene."
"I know. I'll see you there."
"Oh, okay," Grissom said, hanging up.
He quickly dialed another number.
"Hello?"
"Sweetheart, it's me,"
"Hi, how did your physical go?"
"I passed but I need to start running and boxing more often. Steven says I'm still too wound up. Listen, Sara, something's up. I'm on my way to a scene with Rory. We're heading out into the desert. Seb is coming. too." Grissom said.
"Do you need me?"
"Yes, but I want to know what we're getting into first. Look, we're here. I'll be in touch." Grissom said.
"Be careful,"
"Always," Grissom said, closing his phone.
12:00pm
Grissom reached into the island of the Denali and pulled out his Cubs cap. He got out of the car, pulling the brim low, and walked to the rear of the vehicle. He opened the door and took off his blazer, carefully folding it. Slipping on his vest, he picked up his kit, shut the door, and headed to the scene.
The first thing that struck him was the large crime scene. It seemed to be almost seventy feet in diameter. The second thing that was out of place, was the absence of LVPD. All the jackets said FBI. Grissom lifted the crime tape and observed the scene again. He didn't see the body, yet. Very slowly, he walked forward. He would take one step and stop. He put his kit down and pulled out his markers, methodically labeling, photographing and indexing as he stared at his theoretical grid pattern. He was in his zone, focused, working the case, by himself, and after forty-five minutes at the scene in the sun, without food or water, his phone rang. He finished processing a footprint and then answered the call.
"Grissom,"
"Find anything?" Rory asked.
"Lots of things. Let me work. Speaking of which, why am I the only CSI here?"
"Because the FBI requested you."
"Oh, okay, gotta get back to work," Grissom said, hanging up his phone.
He scanned the men looking at him from beyond the tape and a chill crossed his body. He didn't see Seb, but he was comforted somewhat by the fact that he was there. Grissom turned his gaze back to his grid and focused his mojo. He started his pattern again, nearing the center of the circle, when he saw something that caused him to stop. From his kit, he pulled an American flag that Nick had given him for the 4th of July. For some reason, Grissom kept it in his kit. Carefully, Grissom held the flag upside down and slowly turned in a circle so all could see him.
"What the hell does that mean?" Rory Atwater asked, about to call Grissom on the cell phone.
"It's old school cavalry code. The fort is under siege." Seb replied, running to get a bullhorn.
"Attention: this is Superintendent Robbins. Turn off all electronics. I mean all cell phones, BlackBerries, pagers, two-way radios, everything, off. Something's up. Sgt. J.D. Schmidt, get your butt up here. Grissom, we're gonna talk like your Mom. Get out your monocular." Seb instructed.
Grissom replaced the flag and fished around for his monocular, wondering when he mentioned to Seb that it was in his kit.
"Okay, Schmidt, you're on. I want you to sign exactly what I am saying."
"Yes, sir,"
"What have you found? We have a missing agent. The cell phone was traced here. Wait until you see Schmidt with his field glasses up before responding."
Schmidt picked up his field glasses as Grissom shoved his monocular into his vest pocket.
"I found DET cord, foot prints, and I smell a body. I'm downwind; I can't see it. I'd say dead twenty hours." Schmidt translated.
"Can you go forward, straight to the body? Ask him that." Seb instructed.
Schmidt hung his field glasses against his chest and complied.
Grissom crouched for a moment, fighting a dizzy spell.
Hey, I'm J.D., what's your name? You sign pretty well. You okay?
Sorry, long story, no breakfast. My name is Grissom. I want my entire team here, now. I want Jim Brass from LVPD here as soon as he can, and I want to speak to Seb privately.
"Sir, he wants his team, a Jim Brass, and he wants to speak to you privately."
Seb sighed and gave Grissom the time-out sign, turning his back to him for a moment.
"Sheriff!" Seb yelled.
"Yes, sir,"
"Drive three miles back to Vegas and call in Grissom's CSI team. Explain the no electronics rule. Secondly, get a chopper to pick up Jim Brass, Sara Sidle will know how to get in touch with him. Thirdly, I want my brother here."
"What? Doc Robbins in the field? David is on his way."
"No, I want A.J. here, now," Seb yelled, catching Grissom's attention again for a moment.
"Yes, sir,"
"J.D.?"
"Yes, sir,"
"Is Grissom watching?"
"Not right now, sir,"
"Get his attention,"
J.D. stuck two fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Grissom looked at them and took up the monocular.
"Put your hands in your pockets."
"Yes, sir,"
"Face him. J.D. I am trusting you and Grissom with information no one else has. Please repeat the sentences verbally as I am saying them to you. The missing agent is my son. Please help me. I can't trust anyone else."
Grissom stood and tried to collect himself. He looked at his watch and suddenly had a flashback to Nick's kidnapping. He took a breath and replaced the monocular, continuing forward, forgoing his grid search. Twenty minutes later and over fifteen tags with multiple photos, Grissom reached the victim. To his surprise, the human was alive but there was a pig next to him, very dead.
3:00pm
"Hi, I'm Grissom, don't move. There are explosives present. Are you Agent Robbins?"
The man blinked.
Man alive. Smell from dead pig. Where is my team? He signed to J.D.
A fire was lit and they are coming.
What about bomb squad?
Supervisor Robbins says you can handle it.
Grissom looked to the sidelines for some direction. He looked back to the man, buried to his chin..
"Without vocalizing, mouth your first name."
The young man blushed and mouthed Efrem,
"You're kidding? Like the actor Efrem Zimbalist Jr who was in The FBI?"
The young man blinked.
"You must have nickname."
He mouthed, Zack .
"Good, okay, Zack. I'm Grissom. I'm a CSI and I'm a friend of your father and uncle. I read lips. Please tell me what happened."
I was deep undercover and was caught. I came to as they were wiring the C4. I've been here two days.
Grissom sat back on his heels, pivoting until he faced J.D. He slowly fell to his knees.
Zack basically okay. Says he's been here two days. Evidence does not support that. Cover blown. C4 present.
Grissom picked up the monocular and read the response.
Team is here awaiting instruction.
Get Sara to binoculars.
Roger,
J.D. handed Sara the binoculars and she read Grissom's description of the scene. She handed the binoculars back to him and replied using sign.
"You're good," J. D. commented.
"He taught me," Sara said, before gathering the troops privately.
"Okay, the vic is a pig. But there is a human, quite alive, booby trapped with C4 who is buried head up and is Seb's son."
In the distance, a helicopter landed and a Denali drove to meet it. Its passenger got into the Denali and drove fast to Sara's position. Jim Brass climbed out of the Denali, looking a bit bewildered.
"What's up?" he asked, his four day growth of beard and flannel shirt betraying where he came from.
"What do you know about C4?" Catherine asked.
"I was a demolition expert in Vietnam. I know more than I could forget."
"You're too young," Nick countered.
"Thanks, Nicky. I came out of the orphanage. No one cared that I was fifteen. What's up?" he asked again, stripping out of his flannel shirt, and into a vest.
Sara finished the prep and Jim hurried to Seb.
"Hey man, we'll get him out. Can Gil see me?"
"Yeah, he's looking right at you." J.D. confirmed.
Following your footsteps. Need anything? Jim mouthed.
Water, baseball cap, and food. J.D. replied.
Grissom saw Jim's thumbs up as he trotted to the team. Two minutes later, Jim was leading the CSI team out to help Grissom.
A.J. Robbins pulled up and walked to his brother.
"You summoned me?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I thought Zack was dead. Grissom says it's a pig next to him. He's booby trapped, A.J."
"Who's out there with Grissom?"
"His CSI team and Jim Brass."
"You couldn't have a better group of people trying to save Zack," Doc said, putting an arm around his brother.
"Howdy," Jim deadpanned, crouching near his friend.
The rest of the CSI team crouched behind him in a line.
"This is Zack. Zack, this is Jim, and behind him, is my team. We're gonna get you out. Nicky, I want you and Warrick to search a straight path out of here. Clean it, but do it CSI style; photos, evidence the works. Four feet wide, gentlemen; we're gonna have to carry Zack out of here."
"Got it," Warrick replied.
Sara and Catherine moved forward, handing the hat, food and water to Grissom. Carefully, he placed the CSI cap on the young man's head. Then he reached into his kit and removed a sponge. Soaking it with water he gently put it in between Zack's lips.
"Spit it out when you're done sucking the water out." Grissom instructed.
He sat back on his heels and ate a granola bar. Jim carefully searched around the body and the pig.
"Is the pig wired?" Jim asked Zack.
He raised his eyebrows several times to indicate he didn't know.
"Let's assume it is. Catherine, no offense, but I want you at Seb's side. I need a CSI out there." Jim commanded.
Catherine nodded and took her kit back to safety, knowing full well it was because of Lindsey that Jim was sending her down.
"Where's Greg?" Grissom asked out of the blue.
"Vacation for the weekend, Seattle, I think," Sara replied.
"Oh,"
"Sara, you and Grissom gently take another look at the pig. We need to remove it first." Jim said.
Grissom and Sara spent half an hour and found no sign of explosives.
"Nicky, did you clear that path?"
"Yeah, Jim, it's good to go,"
"Okay, bring a Stokes litter back to the scene."
Nick gave him an extra look before he and Warrick went beyond the perimeter to get the litter. They brought it back quickly.
"Okay, this is where it gets hinkey." Jim said as they put the litter parallel to the pig carcass.
Very gently they rolled the pig onto the litter. Jim, Warrick, Grissom and Nick carried the pig to the perimeter, leaving Sara with Zack. The guys returned and Zack spit out the sponge.
"Good sign, the pig was there to lure predators." Jim remarked.
Grissom sat to one side, studying the scene.
"Stop, wait, Sara, Nick, Warrick, let's start sifting the sand for evidence of explosives." Grissom said, starting his task.
For two hours, they tested the sand and found nothing. Grissom turned to Brass and said directly into his ear.
"This is bullshit. There's just enough evidence to drag my team and you down here. The boy isn't the target plus he lied about how long he's been buried."
Grissom felt Jim's grip tighten on his arm.
"Well, I always wanted to know what it would be like to be the bait," Jim quipped.
"Break out the shovels," Grissom instructed.
Zack's face paled to white as he saw them prepare to dig him out.
"No, you can't do that. There are pressure switches. I'll die. We'll all die." Zack said loudly.
"You didn't mention that before, Zack." Grissom remarked.
"It's true, please God stop!" he shouted.
The team ignored his pleas and continued to dig him out. When his hands were free, he reached into the sand. Grissom jumped on him, wrestling to get his hands from their target. Grissom reached back with one hand and hit Zack, leaving him unconscious. Jim searched gently for the remote and found it. He slipped it into his vest pocket while they continued to dig out Zack. An hour later, he was freed and in handcuffs. They carried him to the sidelines and prepared to detonate the explosive which were twenty feet away but near enough to take out the entire team.. Grissom set his kit down and sat on it, looking at his watch. Sara sat next to him while Warrick and Nick took the evidence directly to Seb.
"Fire in the hole," a voice yelled over the bullhorn.
Grissom put his hands over his ears, but it didn't help as the ground moved beneath him in addition to the percussive blast. Finally Jim walked up to them, handing Grissom a candy bar.
"His name is Simon Schultz not Efrem Robbins. Efrem was found safe in Henderson ten minutes ago. This has nothing to do with you. Gil, you're not looking really good."
"He's fine. Just tired, right?" Sara said, standing, looking at him more closely.
"Yeah," Grissom said, munching on the Milky Way bar. "Give me five minutes and I'll follow you home."
"Okay," Sara said, walking back to her car with her kit.
"I'm not sure what happened here, today, but I know it's not solved, Gil." Jim said, softly.
"Yeah, I agree. But for today, I think I can go home and sleep. Thanks Jim."
Grissom stood slowly and picked up his kit. He walked to his car, opened the back window, and set his kit inside. He took off his vest and put on his blazer. He put the vest in the car and reached into his coat pocket, remembering Sam's envelope. He opened it and in the glow of the setting sun, he read it.
Grissom,
Please work for Catherine this weekend. She is scheduled to come out to the
ranch with Lindsey. I'd really appreciate it.
A Friend of your Old Man.
Grissom stood slowly, closed the window and shoved the letter into his pocket. He fussed with his watch and then looked for Catherine, who was on her phone. He walked up to her and smiled.
"Hang on, Sam,"
"The answer is yes and we have to go to the lab."
"Oh, no you don't." Rory's voice came from behind them. "After you log-in the evidence, night shift is off duty. Conrad is having swing cover."
"Thanks, Rory,"
"No, thank you, Grissom. See you tomorrow."
"Right," Grissom said, walking slowly back to his car.
"Grissom? Wait up," Seb called, trotting after him.
Grissom turned and waited for him to catch up. Seb stopped about ten feet away and then slowly walked to him. He noticed the dirt on his clothes, the perspiration through his shirt, visible when the wind blew his jacket open, and the fatigue on his face.
"Thanks for coming," Seb said softly.
"You're welcome,"
"I'm staying up here, now, to finish this. Can we get together, you, Sara, A.J., Sally and myself?"
"Sure, I'm back to work tomorrow night. Regular shift is ten to eight. So maybe an early dinner will work, or lunch, okay?" Grissom asked.
"Whatever you can manage will be fine. Thanks again, Grissom, for everything," Seb said, reaching out his hand.
Grissom shook it before heading to his car.
