She could hear footsteps approaching and a door opening, immediately followed by steps on a flight of stairs. From this, she surmised that she was in a basement and as such she would be nearly impossible to hear if she were to shout out. She'd explored as best she could given her confinement. She was bound but not anchored. Her back to the wall, she hopped along and felt whatever she could. It was a good sized room and though she could not see it, she gave a whistle and waited for the echo, which came very soon after. There were exposed pipes on the ceiling and two hatch hinged windows on opposite ends of the room, these she could see from the gap in her blindfold. Early on she felt the floor for texture and found it to be concrete and cold. She'd felt around and had picked up what felt like a paper clip or some sort of thin nail or brad. She'd tucked it into her front jeans pocket because she knew it was only a matter of time before her attacker would come and check on her. So, she'd wait until after that to get a better feeling for what she'd found.

The footsteps stopped short and she listened as he spoke.

"No one is ever truly safe. Your boyfriend thought he could offer you safe harbour, but NO! That was a mistake to send him after me. So, get used to this place, cause' you're gonna die here. Maybe I'll cut you like you did me and let you slowly bleed to death or maybe I'll just let you starve to death. Either way, you'll never see him again."

Sara said nothing in response, but just listened to his voice and memorized his speech patterns. He had a slight lisp and his voice was rather high pitched for a full grown man. She could hear him turn round' and walk back up the stairs. She could hear the door close and lock and then the tellie went on. Her hands behind her back, she rolled to her side and tucked her knees to her chin, bringing her hands down and past them. Now she was in a better position as she could feel in front of her. First, she worked on the bonds around her ankles and when she'd got those undone, she removed her blindfold so she could see properly. Yup, she was in a basement, and looking around, she could see all sorts of things she could use to unbind her hands. On a workbench of sorts, she found a single blade from a coping saw. Setting it on the floor and bending it upwards, she began to cut through her bonds. It took some time, as she was tied with climbing rope, but when she'd freed herself, she made for the window closest to her.

Hopping up on the workbench, she opened it, but only as far as it would go, which was an awkward six inches at the top. She'd have to break the glass and thank God it wasn't reinforced. It was just one pane of glass.

The tellie got louder and she could here that it was a basketball game, so she waited for a score to bust the glass with her bare elbow. Surprisingly, there wasn't much noise, so as she removed the pieces still in the frame, she slid out and stood up to get her bearings. She looked fine, which is to say that she was fully clothed; boots and all, so she wouldn't draw too much attention to herself if she were to be seen. She was on a dirt road but she could hear a highway of some sort; large trucks, high engine RPMs and other signs of civilization. She followed the sounds and after about half an hour she found herself on the shoulder of I-15 and even though hitch hiking was illegal, hopefully she'd get picked up by some cop or state trooper and that would be gold.

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Sitting at his desk, Jim went over the papers on Randall Emerich, looking for some clue, something that might clue him in to his whereabouts. He had moved around quite a bit and there were at least half a dozen addresses for him; places he'd been picked up. Jim was growing increasingly furious at the state of things and to relax, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Trying to clear his mind, he was bombarded by images of Sara in the custody of this animal.

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At the lab, Grissom was spearheading the processing of the evidence that he'd been given while Greg, Nick and Warrick continued to process the house. Gil put his feelings for Sara aside so he could focus on the task at hand. Sara had been very thorough when she'd processed herself. There were several swabs that had been labeled, her clothing, all of it, was neatly folded and bagged as were the scrapings from under her nails. He was so proud of her ability to keep her head given what had just happened to her that day. He was still upset that she had held onto the evidence for as long as she did, but that was in the past, now. Now was the time to keep his head and do his job, which was to build and make a case against this nut and lock him up for good.

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Heading back into town, Sara was getting increasingly tired from walking so far. She had just passed a sign that read "Las Vegas 15mi"

"Shit, 15 miles." She said aloud

But she kept walking until a kindly passerby stopped and picked her up. Sliding into the passenger seat, Sara took a long sigh of relief.

"Where to?" asked the driver

"Vegas. Anywhere on Trop." She replied

She wanted to say the lab, but thought it wise not to. She wasn't quite sure why, but she kept that bit of info to herself. Within the half hour she was back in Vegas and walked to the nearest pay phone.

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Sitting at his desk, pouring over the file of Randall Emerich, Jim jumped when his cell went off. It was an unfamiliar number but he answered it anyway. Much to his surprise and glee, it was Sara. She gave her location and the location of where she'd been held so a warrant could be issued. He jumped up and flew out of his office, calling Gil in the process, who grabbed Catherine and went to follow Jim after he picked up Sara.

Seeing her standing on the corner, Jim pulled over and picked Sara up. He was so glad to see her that he virtually jumped her and hugged her tightly to him. After a semi-awkward, long embrace, Jim radioed that they were headed out to the house off of 15. Gil came back that he and Catherine were right behind them with a warrant that had been faxed, followed by several police cars.

Lights and sirens going, the caravan of cars flew down I-15 and when Sara pointed to the dirt road, Jim hit the breaks, hooked a left and turned off his lights and went silent as did everyone else. The road was well worn with deep ruts and bits and pieces of trash and whatnot all over. Jim and Sara made it through ok, but as Gil and Catherine made their turn and wound up with a flat tire, in effect stopping everyone but Jim and Sara.

Seeing the house in the distance, Jim pulled off about fifty yards from the property and directed Sara to stay in the car, which she did, reluctantly. Stealthily, Jim made a wide entrance and came up to the house from behind and circling round' to the front. He stepped up on the porch and, looking through one of the front windows, saw the guy in a lounger with the tellie on. He wasn't moving, it didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Maybe dude is asleep." Jim thought to himself

He crept around the porch to get a general layout of the place before entering the house. After a full external sweep, Jim saw no one, no cars behind him, so he kicked in the front door and that sure as hell woke the bastard up, as he fell from his chair and scrambled to get away. Jim did not run, he didn't even pick up his pace. He just followed Randall slowly, all the while baiting him.

"Run all you like. I may be old, but I'm fast……..you come into my home, attack and kidnap one of my friends, break my shit and wreck the place. So, as I said, run all you like. You're mine."

Randall was cornered in the kitchen by a deadbolt that required a key to be opened and as Jim stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, looking at the man, he could see the wounds that Sara had inflicted upon him. Inside he was smiling as wide as he ever had, but on the outside his face was red, his knuckles white and his vision tunneled, focused on the guy. Looking around, Randall saw a knife on the kitchen counter and went to reach for it. Grasping the handle tightly, he took a stab at Jim who quickly drew his weapon and fired at Randall, hitting him in the shoulder and sending him flying back into the wall. He got up and tried again, but Jim blocked him and pistol whipped him, watching as he hit the floor, out like a light. He grabbed his cuffs and secured him and dragged him out front to the front porch.

Moments later Grissom and Catherine arrived along with the patrol cars and officers. Seeing the state of the perp, Grissom just sort of looked at Jim and raised a brow. Looking down at Randall, Jim smiled.

"Sara carved him up and I just served him."

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The End?