ACID RAIN

CHAPTER 3

"Jim," Gil started, eyes flashing fire and fists clenched to his side. Jim's tear-stained face rose to meet his. Gil breathed in a sigh to calm down. "She on her way?" Jim nodded. Gil turned on his heels. "I'll drive."

They jumped in to the truck and headed for the hospital, lights flashing. After a long silence, Gil glanced at Brass. "What happened?" he queried.

Brass shrugged and sighed, head hanging, "I don't know. It looks like some type of acid attack."

"Where was she?"

"In the shower. Catherine and Sara are checking it out as we speak."

Gil nodded, his mind racing. "Acid burns are horrendous," he thought. "She could die from them."

"I'm sorry, Gil." Brass sighed. "I didn't expect an attack in there."

Gil patted his friend on the shoulder. "I wouldn't have either, Jim. Don't beat yourself up. There wasn't a thing you could have done."

He screeched into the emergency room lot, slammed on his brakes and jammed open the door. "I just hope I'm not too late." Rushing to his trunk, he pulled out his kit. The two men pressed their way into the busy ER, flashing badges at reception and requesting the room number. Soon they stood outside the room watching through the closed glass doors.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

He sat at a stop light in the hot, late afternoon sun, silently glad the day was over and he could return to the solitude of his home. It had been a busy day and he was looking forward to some rest. As the light turned green, his cell phone sounded. "Hello?" he answered. "Well, hello there. Long time…What?" He frowned. "Yes, of course. I'll take the first flight out…No, I'll get a rental…Okay, meet you there."

He flipped the phone closed as he re-oriented himself to his location. "Rats," he thought as he made a U-turn at the next light. "No time to get packed. I'll have to take my emergency suitcase."

He flipped open the phone and hit speed dial. "Need to book a seat on your first available flight to Las Vegas," he stated. After making the arrangements, he rung off. Good thing he kept a bag packed in his car for situations like this. "Better call the office to tell them I'll be out of town, though." He thought. "Well, I'll just do that in flight." He pulled onto the Interstate and headed for the airport.

mmmmmmmmm

"Come on folks," the ER doctor ordered, "let's get her on the monitor and get me some saline to flush her wounds." He continued barking orders to nurses and residents as the monitor started blipping. Gil watched the heart pacing with bated breath, praying Bree would be all right.

Brass stood to the side, not moving a muscle. He knew if Bree didn't survive this, Gil would be in pieces. They had grown up together and were very close. Now, this vibrant, athletic beauty lay like a fried heap on the gurney. It was nearly too much for Brass to bear, much less Grissom.

"Oh, God," Gil whispered a fearful prayer, his eyes glued to the monitor as her heart rate continued to slow down.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Catherine put her phone back in her pocket as she headed for the bathroom. Sara was already on her knees swabbing the drain and a standing puddle of water on the floor. "What ya got?" Catherine asked.

"Blood in the tub and on the floor, but I expect that will be the judge's. Lots of broken glass on the floor, apparently from the shower door." She turned on the ALS. "Hit the lights, will ya?"

Catherine turned off the bathroom lights. Sara waved the ALS along the sides of the shower, then on the tub itself. "Here's something," she smiled.

Catherine moved forward for closer inspection. Tiny shards of what appeared to be glass or very hard clear plastic lined the bottom of the tub. "Better get a sample of that." Catherine flicked on her flashlight and started choreographing the scene in her mind as she flicked on the bathroom light. "Let's see," she finally stated. "She comes in, turns on the water so it can warm up, probably checks herself in the mirror,"

"Pulls off her robe, tossing it to the floor," Sara added, gesturing to the corner near the tub, "and slips into what she expects to be a comfortable shower." Sara stepped into the tub with sanitary slip-covered feet, using her flashlight to inspect pulsating jets down the back of the wall. She carefully removed their covers and swabbed them inside and out. "These were turned on full blast. She must have been working out some major stress."

"Well," Catherine agreed, "knowing someone is out to get you can be a pain…" Sara gave a half-grin.

"…in more places than one." She finished Catherine's statement, turning to inspect the showerhead. Swabbing the outside, she twisted off the head and turned it over in her hand. "Hand me the magnifying glass," she requested.

"Whatcha see?" Catherine asked as she obliged.

"Don't know. Could be a hair, but…looks more wiry than hers."

"Maybe the perp's?" The ladies glanced at each other knowingly.

ooooooooooooooo

Gil took in a rush of shocked air. "Asystole," he whispered. He felt his knees melt from under him and grasped the handrail in front of him.

Brass's legs were frozen in place. He watched as the paddles were placed carefully on Bree's fried skin, watched her body convulse when the electricity was applied. Nothing changed.

Brass turned to Gil. Gil white-knuckled the railing to keep his stance. His pallor betrayed his emotions. A nurse put a hand gently on his shoulder. "Go get some coffee," she recommended. "We'll come get you when there is something to report." She nudged them toward the waiting room. "There's nothing you can do from here, anyway."

Gil looked into her soft brown eyes, allowing her motherly smile to calm some of his fears. With a nod, he looked once more to the room filled with professionals working on Bree.

The doctor nodded, then glanced over at Brass and Gil. A nurse inside the room slowly closed the curtains between them.

ppppppppppppp

He sat in the filth of his apartment, wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, holding a half-drunk beer in his hand. His eyes were flicking from one TV screen to another, flicking through channels on each. He couldn't believe the news hadn't already picked up on this and run with it. What was taking them so long? Dumb policeman probably ordered them to keep it under wraps, hoping he would contact them and show his hand. "Sorry, Brass," he thought. "Ain't gonna happen."

A sneer cracked his face. "Maybe you need a little incentive to put this out to the media, eh?" He thought. "We shall see about that."

He moved to the kitchen table, shooing a scraggly looking alley cat out of the way. He picked up a vial of clear-golden fluid and shook it slightly. "Ah, this will be great. Soon, I'll be all over the news."

qqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

"Let me see the panel," the doctor roared. Checking a clipboard with blood values on it, he barked, "Get the bicarb ready." He rushed to her side, looking for a burn-free area on which to place the paddles if necessary. "…potassium," he called over the din in the room, automatically ordering 29 milequivalents IV push as he noted the low index on the electrolyte report.

He looked up at the monitor. "Get the crash cart in here stat! She's bradying down!"

"Rate 35, BP 70/50 palp," the nurse informed. The monitor squealed an alarm.

"Asystole," the doctor roared. "Paddles!"

TBC