Title: Stalked - Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I'm to tired to think of anything witty. Bite me. They're not mine.

Author's Note: Thanks to Sol for the Beta! I really appreciate her sticking with me all this way. It can't be easy putting up with all my stupidness. :o) So Thanks Sol. And I'm dedicating this chapter to my little sister Kimmy, because without her sitting here yelling at me to get it done, it would have taken me another week. Please review, I love reviews. I really really do. Convinced? Good. Then leave one!

The interior of the Denali was so quiet Grissom was sure he could hear the quick panicked beating of three hearts, his own beating the fastest and hardest. She was so close - miles... minutes. He couldn't get this machine to move as fast as he needed it to, every moment seemed to last forever. He could be too late, this traffic - this stupid, stupid traffic could be the difference between life and death.

He beat his fist against the horn, more out of anger and frustration then an attempt to get the cars in front of him to move any faster. He could feel Nick watching him - could feel the worry pouring off of the younger man. He could almost predict the words as they were released from his mouth.

"Grissom? She's going to be ok."

Yeah. Right. She's ok, everything's ok. He was ok. He physically shook his head trying to clear out the adrenaline that seemed to have taken control of him. "We need to be there. I need to be there."

Nick didn't respond, but out of the corner of his eye, Grissom saw him shoot Warrick yet another worried look. The next second, Warrick had his hand on his shoulder. Shrugging it off, Grissom kept his eyes on the road. He didn't want them to lend him strength; he didn't want their support. Those were the kinds of things you gave someone who had lost something. He hadn't lost her yet. And if he was honest with himself, he never really had her to lose.

Finally the cars in front of him separated, giving him free reign to gun the engine and fly down the street. He didn't bother checking to see how fast he was going - it didn't matter. The faster the better. His own safety wasn't what he was concerned about. Sara.

"Boss, you need to slow down. We can't help her if we're dead." Warrick spoke softly from the backseat.

At the truth in his words, Grissom eased his foot off the accelerator. Taking a deep breath he gripped the wheel harder. "Ok guys, here's the thing. I'm not even sure she's going to be there. The evidence is saying he has her - and the feds say this address is where he is. But I don't know." He hated the defeat in his voice. "The FBI has been watching this address for a week - they haven't seen Sara." Just saying her name out loud made him inwardly flinch, though he didn't know why.

"That doesn't mean she wasn't inside the house. She'll be there Grissom." Nick tried to sound sure, but the crack in his voice gave him away.

They all fell silent again - they knew what one another was thinking, but it didn't seem like a good idea to put that fear into words. They were fighting the demon of doubt, and the demon was winning.

Grissom took a sharp turn and seconds later screeched to a stop outside of a two story house that appeared to have not been lived in for years.

He barely saw the dust colored sedan as it turned the corner two blocks up. And he sure didn't realize Sara was handcuffed in the backseat.

He opened his car door and walked up the front walk. He heard Nick and Warrick slamming their doors behind him. "Grissom! We need to wait for the PD to clear the scene." Warrick called.

"I'm just looking." He climbed the steps and peered in the window by the door. A lamp lay broken on the floor next to a sturdy looking pole. His stomach flipped. This was the place. Moving away from the window he went back down the steps and followed Nick around back. The basement windows were dark - like someone had drawn the shades. As he moved closer he noticed that it wasn't a shade, it was paint. Another step and he saw that the paint was flaking off in one area - no, it wasn't flaking. He kneeled in front of the window.

It had been scratched off.

Nick was standing over his shoulder in silence as he leaned forward to get a better look. A bed, a chair, a pole, a chain, and was that...? It was blood. He stood up. "We need to get in there."

"What's wrong? Is she there?"

"No. I don't see her." But what he had seen was horror enough, though he didn't say that out loud.

"Guys! The PD's here! Come on!" Warrick's voice floated through the air from the front of the house. It was then that Grissom finally noticed the sirens filling the air. He hadn't moved this fast in years - he raced around the side of the building just behind Nick.

The three of them stood back with weapons drawn as the police broke the door down and stepped inside. The urge to follow them in was strong and Nick actually took a step forward before Grissom put a hand up to stop him. "They do their job. Then we do ours."

Nick shuffled his feet impatiently. This from the man who had looked like he wanted to break in through the basement window. He knew Grissom was right though - they had to wait until it was safe.

When Brass came back out five minutes later and gave them the all clear, it would have taken an army of supersoldiers to stop them from getting in. But Brass managed it with three little words. "She was here."

They all stopped in their tracks and frowned at him. Warrick spoke up first. "Was here?"

"Yeah. She's gone. Again." Brass waved towards the door. "Now go. Do what you do, and tell me where to go get her."

They didn't need to be told twice, and kits in hand they entered the dark house. Three flashlights clicked on simultaneously. The light shined through a filter of dust as they took in their surroundings. Grissom set his kit down and reached for his phone. It was time to call in the back-up.

"Willows."

"Catherine - We know where he was holding Sara. She's not here anymore - we need to get this scene processed ASAP. Call Greg and get over here." He gave her the address. "Hurry."

"Grissom, how'd you..."

He cut her off. "I'll tell you later Catherine, I have to get to work - and I need your help."

He could almost feel her nod through the phone lines and hung up. Turning to Nick and Warrick, he smiled weakly. "Come on. Lets get to work."

He walked away from them and started for the kitchen. Dust covered the counters, cobwebs decorated the corners. The whole place had the feeling of a haunted house. He shivered despite his knowledge that there are no such things as ghosts. This house held more than trapped spirits though - it held memories, memories of Sara's terror.

Lifting fingerprints and hairs from the surfaces distracted him from what he really wanted to do, which was race down to that basement and see - he just needed to know. But the scientist in him took over - he knew there was a way this scene needed to be processed. He knew there was valuable evidence he needed to collect.

He'd been moving slowly over the room for a while when he heard Nick's voice coming from the bathroom. He stood and rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the permanent kink that had taken up residence there.

When he reached the bathroom, he stopped at the sight of Nick dusting the mirror. "What've you got?"

Nick took a step back and pointed to the mirror. "A message. From Sara I'm thinking."

Grissom read the words out loud and his blood froze. "It's a game. A trap. Don't play. He won't hurt me... What does she mean? What's a game?"

"Maybe there's something you haven't found yet." Catherine's voice jarred him from his thoughts.

"The basement." His mind felt muddled. "There was blood in the basement."

"Oh God." Greg came up behind Catherine. He looked pale and he had his hand over his mouth in the universal sign of someone about to be sick.

Grissom sent him a concerned look. "Not a lot Greg. Are you going to be ok?"

The younger man's eyes closed. He decided he must look as sick as he felt for his boss to actually show concern for him. "I'm going to be fine. Have you cleared the basement yet?"

"No. We were working our way down there. But I think we should go do that now." He turned from bathroom. "Greg, you come with me. Catherine - go help Warrick, he's upstairs. Nick, see if you can isolate a print in that message - make sure it was Sara who wrote it."

Catherine turned back towards the stairs and got back to work. Grissom walked past Greg and briefly touched his shoulder. "Come on. I'm going to need your help."

Greg nodded to nobody before turning to follow him. "We do this together."

Grissom noted the locks on the basement door and the lump in his stomach froze into an icy ball. This was where he had her. He reached out a gloved hand and touched the cold metal of the doorknob. Closing his eyes, he turned it and pulled the door open to reveal a set of steep wooden stairs.

He hadn't noticed the wire above the door, or the soft click when the bomb was triggered.

He started down the stairs, shining his flashlight ahead of him. He heard Greg's footfalls start down the stairs behind him and turned to face him. "Are you sure you're ready Greg? I can get Catherine to..."

"No. I'm ok. It's not me we should be worrying about."

Grissom nodded and continued down the stairs, silently bracing himself for what was down there. As he came to the bottom two steps, the light from his flashlight caught the scene. His mind reeled with fear as it flashed to the horrors that could have taken place here.

Greg aimed his flashlight in the same direction and Grissom heard his breath catch for a second before he spoke. "Sara..."

"Greg..." His mind filled with a hundred different words to say, a million ways to say she was ok. But they all felt false, and he was done lying to himself and to his team. He reached out with one hand, searching for a light switch. When he found it and flipped it on, pale yellow light illuminated the room. "I think - I think we need to hurry."

His eyes scanned the room as he took in the sight in front of him. A ragged mattress sat in the middle of the floor, a wicker rocker placed beside it, a pole set up at both ends of the makeshift bed. He swallowed hard as his eyes flickered over the pool of blood on the floor. It was fresh, still wet.

He walked into the room, noting the small drops of blood leading toward the stairs. "Greg, watch your step. There's a blood trail."

"I'll follow it." Greg turned and aimed his flashlight at the floor, slowly climbing back up the stairs, leaving Grissom alone in Sara's dungeon.

Grissom flicked his eyes back over the bed as he crouched down to get a swab of the blood. A sheet of notebook paper caught his attention and he frowned as he capped the swab. He snapped a picture of the paper as it lay, before picking it up.

It felt like his heart came to a screeching halt when he read his name across the top. This was the game. "Sorry Sara, honey, I have to play." He spoke softly to no one.

Unfolding the paper he read the sloppily scrawled note.

Dr. Grissom:

Do you know how lucky you are? Do you even notice her when she works beside you? I noticed her. I would have given her anything, I would have been her everything. But the girl doesn't want me. You know why? Because I'm not you. I'm not the one she's in love with. You are.

But why am I wasting time telling you something you care nothing about? Because - it's this love she thinks she feels that's keeping her alive right now. And it will do so for the next two hours. You and your team are running out of time Dr. Grissom. I'm long gone by now, but Sara - she is waiting on you. She knows you're here right now - I made sure she would know. And she knows how much time she has left. Can you imagine her fear? I can, I've seen it. Does it make your heart pound? Good. Does it make you wish you had been able to love her back? That you had been able to keep her safe? It's a little too late for regrets now.

It would be a lie for me to tell you she's safe, because she's not. Her life is out of my hands Dr. Grissom. It's in yours. Please - go get her. Take her home, and love her like she deserves to be loved. I don't want her to die any more than you do. I love her. She has been my world for years, and it's killing me to write this letter, knowing what I am about to do.

Two hours from the time you opened that basement door. Two hours and her life is gone in a single explosion. I hope you didn't waste too much time picking up evidence...

Tick Tock - You better run.

Grissom's hands were shaking as he refolded the letter along the crease. He estimated he'd been in the basement for 10 minutes. Time wasted watching his step. His blood was pounding in his temples. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare. He started up the stairs in search of help.

The first person he saw was Nick, still standing in the bathroom, shaking his head at something under the sink. "Nicky."

When Nick turned around he was startled by Grissom's appearance. Grissom's face was pale and his hands were holding a sheet of paper that was trembling softly. "Boss? What's wrong?"

"He's moved her to a different location. He...a bomb. We have two hours to find her." He glanced down at his watch. "Or, one hour and forty-five minutes." He turned away. "Where's Catherine?"

"She uh, she and Warrick went outside - Greg followed the blood trail out the door. She's trying to get tire impressions. A bomb? How'd you..." Grissom walked quickly toward the front door, and Nick followed him outside.

As they stepped from the front door, they caught sight of Catherine walking back into the garage. "Catherine!" Grissom bellowed. He took off toward her. "Cath!" He ran into the garage behind her.

"Grissom... Greg lost the trail in the yard, but I picked it up again in the garage. If it's her blood, I'm thinking he moved her. I got tracks from the road. I sent Warrick back to the lab to get started analyzing them."

Without a word, Grissom handed her the note. As she read it, her eyes grew wide. "Grissom..."

"We have to find her. I'm going to take the blood and prints - and whatever other evidence we've collected, back to the lab. Maybe something will lead us to her." He didn't know what else to do.

Catherine just nodded. "Make sure you get someone to check out his purchases on his credit card. If he's running - maybe he's flying. Brass's already got his name and picture going out to all airports - he's on the no fly list. But... people can be bribed. And check for other properties he may have owned before his...'death'." She handed the sheet of paper back to him and turned away. She couldn't bear the fear in his eyes.

She watched as he ambled away toward to Denali, looking like a man that had been knocked out after only two rounds in the ring and her heart ached for him. She was scared, she was worried, she was in a state of shock - but she knew that her emotions didn't even come close to being as strong or as painful as his.

Grissom walked into the lab and found Warrick standing beside the computer swearing at the screen. He didn't say anything as he walked up and stood beside him. When Warrick finally looked over at him, Grissom gave him a weary smile. "Anything?"

"Nitilian Bergsten was the owner of a 1994 Mazda 626 - tan in color. Matches the tire impression Cath found. I think he's still driving it."

Grissom frowned before his eyes grew wide with anger. "God... I think he was pulling away as we were pulling in."

"What?"

"Three or so blocks ahead of us as we were pulling up outside the house. A car - light brown. It was turning. Dammit! We let him get away!" He hit the table with his fist.

"There's no way we could have known it was him. Maybe it wasn't."

"No, it was. I know it was. It had to be." He looked down at his watch for the hundredth time. "We're running out of time. I need you to get the traffic tapes. See if you can pick him up, and then follow him as long as you can. Get us a search area." His phone rang then and he turned away from Warrick.

"Grissom."

"Hey Gil, Catherine told me about the note."

Grissom sighed. "Jim... we don't have anything to go on. Not one damn thing."

"I might. This guy - he owned quite a bit of property. He inherited it from his grandfather. A house, some land, a hunting shack, and a cabin."

"There's a good chance he has her there at one of them - Jim, I need you to send a unit to each. Which one is the most isolated?"

"Uh..." Papers rustled in the background. "Looks like the cabin. It's about fifteen miles from the house. Surrounded by desert."

Grissom's heart fluttered. "What's the address?" Brass rattled it off. "Meet me there..."

"- and bring bomb squad. I know. I'll send units to the other places. Just to be sure we cover all of our bases." This time Brass disconnected the call before Grissom could.

Dialing another number he started down the hall. "Greg. I need you at another scene with me. Yes, it's Sara. No, we don't know if she's there. I'll pick you up, be ready."

"Yes sir. Should I get Catherine and Nick?"

"No, we need them to stay there and finish that scene. There might still be evidence there that will take us to her."

"Ok. I'll be waiting."

Grissom pulled up at the house and Catherine was standing there waiting. "Gil - you're taking the rookie? What are you thinking?" She was leaning in the passenger side window, glaring at him.

"I'm thinking, Catherine, that I need you and Nick here. I need your experience here. And I think Greg needs out."

"Grissom, I know everyone's emotions are running a little high right now, but since when do you care when a CSI needs out of a scene?" Her tone was sarcastic, but Grissom knew she was just hurt that he hadn't asked her to ride along.

"Since I realized sometimes I have to be your boss and your friend. And that sometimes, the latter is more important. We don't have time to discuss this right now." He waved Greg over and dismissed Catherine with a look. She walked away running her fingers through her hair.

Greg climbed into the car and was still pulling his seatbelt across his shoulder as Grissom pulled away from the curb. "Where are we going?"

"On a little trip to the desert. Nitalian's grandfather had a cabin, it's isolated, it's empty... it's a good place to set off a bomb."

Greg swallowed hard. "How far?"

"Fifteen miles."

"How long to we have?"

"Not long enough." Grissom gritted his teeth and pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor.

Sara's eyes snapped off the clock as she heard sirens. The tears threatened to fall again as the clock flipped from 0:10 to 0:09. They weren't going to make it. God, she didn't want anyone else to die.

Grissom's knuckles were white with the pressure he was gripping the wheel with. Greg had been silent throughout the entire drive; save for a few muttered prayers that Grissom couldn't quite hear. They had under ten minutes to get to her, get her free, and get her to safety.

His heart was racing and his head hadn't stopped pounding all day. For the second time that day, Mr. Logical tried to wake up from this nightmare. But it didn't work, he wasn't dreaming.

A car was coming up the driveway. Sara's eyes flickered to the door before landing again on the clock. 00:08. This time a tear did fall. "Hurry." It came out in a whisper.

Almost in response she heard her own name being yelled as a car screeched to a stop and a door slammed. "Sara!" It was Grissom. Oh God.

He had his door open before he even had the car in park. "Sara!" He ran towards the door and heard Greg's door slam as he too hurriedly got out of the car. "Sara! Honey, are you here?" He pushed open the door and stopped. "Sara. Oh God." Reacting before he could stop himself he was directly in front of her. "Sara... we're going to get you out of here. She still hadn't spoken and he followed her line of sight to a clock on the table. 00:07. "Timer?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Grissom - get out of here!"

"I can't." He shook his head. "Tell me what you know about this bomb."

"I don't... it's wrapped around me - but I don't think it's set on a trigger if it's moved. He told me that if I dropped it, it would go off. But he just strapped it around me and left - I think we should be able to get it off me." She couldn't seem to stop talking. "But I'm cuffed - handcuffs. And rope. And oh God Grissom, just get out!"

"Sara, you're going to be ok. Ok? Look at me." He touched her jaw before he turned around. "Greg! Get your handcuff keys." He was just standing there staring. "Greg! Now!" At that he whirled around and ran back outside the door.

"Ok Sara - I'm going to get this off of you. Hold still." He walked around behind her and undid the wires holding the bomb to her waist. Carefully he collected it into his hands and pulled it away from her.

As soon as it was gone, she gave into her natural urge to shake. She couldn't seem to stop. "God Grissom - please, just leave." Her voice was coming out in sobs. "Please."

He stepped away from her, not knowing whether to try and get it farther away from her, or to free her and get her away from it. 00:05

He placed the explosives down on the table and turned back to her. "I'm not leaving you here. I can't do that." He went around her again, working at the tight knots. "Come on come on." One, Two, Three. The rope fell in a pile around her ankles. Handcuffs. "GREG!"

He appeared at the door. "I can't - I can't find them." Panting and out of breath. Grissom noticed the tear streaks running down his cheeks.

"Greg, calm down. In the ashtray - I have an extra set. Go. Hurry."

Circling back around he looked Sara in the eye. She closed lashes wet with tears and hung her head. "I'm sorry Grissom. I didn't mean for you to be here. I didn't mean to tell him that I..." She stopped. "I love you." Another sob. "God I'm sorry - Leave now Gris, while you still can."

Grissom cupped her face and smiled softly at her. "I can't leave. My heart is handcuffed to a pole. I can't live without it." He wiped her tears away as he turned. "Greg!"

"Here. Here. Hurry Grissom." Greg came up behind him, thrusting a key into his hands. He glanced over his shoulder. 00:03.

Grissom's hands were shaking so hard he almost couldn't get the key into the slot. Finally it slid home and he shook as the clasp released with an anti-climatic click.

He pulled Sara into his arms, already running. She was limping against him and he silently cursed the man who had hurt her. Out the door, into the Denali. He slammed the door behind her and got into the driver's seat. The car was still running, and he thanked the heavens that he'd had the sense to leave the engine on.

Greg was already in his seat and reaching for his seatbelt. Grissom slammed the car into reverse, flying backwards down the driveway. He could hear Sara's sobs as she realized she was safe. His own vision was blurred with tears of relief. He hit the main road and felt the ground shake with the force of the explosion as the bomb went off.

He kept driving; somehow he felt like if he stopped, he would wake up. This time, he didn't want to. She was ok. She was safe, and she was here. Finally three miles down the road he pulled over.

With shaky hands he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Dialing Brass, he tried to get control over his voice.

"Gil - we're about 8 miles away... we saw the explosion - please tell me you got her out."

"We got her." He turned in his seat to watch her. She had stopped crying and had her head leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed. He flipped his phone shut and opened his car door.

She jumped as he opened her door. "Grissom..." She was climbing through the door and into his arms before he could respond. "Thank you. God, thank you."

Her whole body was shaking and he did the only thing he could think of to do. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close to him as he could. "It's ok now, you're safe. I'm not going to let you go again." He was murmuring in her ear, letting his hand travel up and down her spine. "God Sara. I thought I'd lost you." She stood there, wrapped in his embrace until Greg's door opened and his footsteps crunched over the gravel. Only then did she pull away.

"Greggo." The smallest smile flitted across her face.

His face was tear streaked and his hair was standing up in tufts that looked wild, even on him. "Ah, Sara. Hell." He sobbed as he gathered her into his arms. "We thought..."

"Hey Greg, I'm ok. I'm fine." She was comforting him, her hands smoothing down his hair. When finally he pulled back, his eyes were red and dust was sticking to the tear streaks on his cheeks.

"We need to get you to a hospital Sara." Grissom spoke up from behind her.

She nodded in agreement and smiled at Greg as she turned around to get back in the car. Grissom took her hand to help her inside and she squeezed it hard before letting him go.

Just so you know - this isn't the end. Please stay tuned for my so called wrap up chapters. Don't worry, Nity isn't getting away. I'm gonna have some fun with him yet. :o) Please review, I'm asking nicely, and I'm not begging... but I'd really appreciate it. You guys all rock, and I want to thank each and every one of you for the reviews you've left thus far.