Okay, so this is the fourth to last chapter... three to go. I'm actually going to have time to write this other fic I wanted to write tonight! Yay! that is... after I finish my homework... and tomorows homework so that I can watch CSI tomorow night... and my costume... I'll get started on it eventually. So everyone... enjoy, and Reviewers: You're all still my heros! ( I think that makes sense...)

Chapter 16

It was a stupid thing to do; he knew that. However, it dawned on him that if Nick and Catherine were still alive they didn't have much longer if the kidnappers heard them pull up, so ignoring Greg's protests, he went in. He felt mildly guilty for pulling Greg in with him; he hadn't meant to endanger more people, but Nick and Catherine's lives hung by a thread and he wasn't going to let that thread break if it hadn't already.

He took a deep breath as he pressed himself against the wall outside the warehouse. He couldn't hear anything from inside, but that didn't mean anything. What he didn't want was two kidnappers shoving a gun in their face the moment they walked in.

There was nothing for it; it was now or never. Holding his breath, he swung into the room, aiming his gun at anything that moved. The first thing that he saw was Nick and Catherine on the ground. "Nick!" He said. He could feel Greg close behind him as he surveyed the room for other occupants. There were none, so he hurried to Nick's side.

The two captive CSI's were saying something, but Warrick didn't hear it. Catherine looked shaken and there was a cut on her head, but Nick was a different case. He didn't look good at all and Warrick didn't like the fact that he was laying in a pool of what looked like his own blood. Anger flared inside him, and he glanced up once more, looking for hidden shooters and not finding any. Greg had knelt down beside him, looking almost as shaken as Catherine. "Rick…" Nick said.

"Warrick! Get out of here!" Catherine's voice was stronger, and it permeated the blanket of silence that seemed to surround Warrick. He wasn't about to leave them there.

"I'm not leaving you," He said, examining Nick's hands which were secured with zip ties.

"Rick…" It was Greg this time, but Warrick ignored him and dug in his pocket for his pocket knife.

Catherine was almost yelling in desperation. "Warrick, get out of here now! They're hiding!"

The words barely registered as he cut his two friends free. It was then that he heard the first shot. A moment later, the place was raining with bullets. "Shit!" He yelled, yanking Catherine to her feet and propelling her towards the door. Nick was somehow managing to get up on his own, and Warrick felt his flak jacket stop two bullets. Greg wasn't so lucky though, and they heard him yell a moment later.

Adrenaline was keeping him alive. He felt a sudden surge of strength as soon as he was cut free, and pushed himself up, ignoring the stinging pain. The moment he was upright, he glanced around, despite the bullets singing through the air around them.

It seemed that Nick and Catherine weren't the kidnappers' targets, for few bullets were coming his way, and Catherine had gotten out already. Nick saw two bullets hit Warrick and stop when they met his jacket, but one went straight into Greg's shoulder.

Nick yelled almost at the same time as Greg's cry of pain. "Run!" His voice was amazingly strong, and although he'd lost too much blood already, he could move himself. Warrick heeded Nick's cry and ran, shooting back in the general direction the bullets were coming from, but Greg looked as if he were in shock.

He ran at Greg and caught him around the shoulders, somehow pulling him towards the door. After a moment, not half a second, he felt Greg start to move of his own accord and he let go. Thankfully, the door was straight ahead and almost the moment he was outside, his strength gave way and he collapsed.

He was frozen to one spot; the pain in his arm somehow cut off the connection to his brain that sent the message that he was in a warehouse that was raining bullets. He vaguely remembered Nick and Warrick telling him about some case in a warehouse that involved some stupid teenagers pulling stunts with an automatic. Something told him this was different though; there was no sign of a bamboo pole anywhere. His arm was starting to go mercifully numb, but it was short lived, for a moment later, he felt something hit him on the shoulders and felt himself being dragged towards the door.

The pain returned in an intense moment, and he was suddenly aware of the bullets flying again. He started to run by himself, not taking a moment to marvel at how Nick got the strength to do such a thing. Panic was close at hand; the door seemed so far away event though it wasn't. It seemed to take ages to get there, though.

Nick barely made it through before him, and Greg got there just in time to catch him as he collapsed. Greg gasped as the added weight jarred his shoulder and almost dropped Nick, but Warrick was suddenly hurrying them out of the doorway as Brass and his team rushed inside.

Everything after that happened in a blur. He saw Nick being hurried to an ambulance, Warrick running alongside the stretcher. Somebody threw their arms around him, but he couldn't see their face, and Grissom was examining his arm and calling for something. Catherine was standing nearby looking dazed and Greg wondered if he looked similar. A strange sort of apathy had come over him. It was over, that was all that mattered. He didn't care if his arm was looked after or not, he didn't care that he was being hurried to the same ambulance as Nick. Faces passed and he couldn't recognize them and voices sounded but he didn't hear them. He barely felt someone help him into a chair, and he barely noticed the car start. The black when he closed his eyes was bliss.

TBC...