A/N: Okay, huge thanks to my beta TangledPencils who pointed out few glaring mistakes. Thank you, lol. Also to the few readers that found the time to write a review. I appreciate it and I will try to post more often.

Fire and water

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 14

He couldn't believe what hadjust happened. He came so close to being caught that it was almost funny. His imagination even came up with a possible headline – "Cops catch Almighty Master through dumb luck". Yeah, that would be the right title in the newspaper. There was nothing funny about it though, he realised as he scrambled up the rocks, jerking at the last two shots that went wildly his way. He knew the rocks were his shield, just as he knew the men below wouldn't follow him. They weren't stupid enough.

"But how did it get so out of hand?" the man asked himself as he gasped in pain when his injured arm bumped slightly against the rock.

One minute he was the predator, and the next he was the prey. It just didn't add up in his mind and even as he was resting on the top, his eyes looking down and trying to locate the two people below, all he could think about was how he'd screwed up.

The shiver that ran through his body brought him quickly out of his thoughts, especially as he felt something warm making its way down his arm.

"Damn it!" he cursed when he realized his arm was bleeding freely, leaving behind him a great trail that would be easily followed in daylight. But he wasn't planning on staying there for that long. It was too dark to see the damage the bullet did to his arm, but he could feel it and the gentle probe of his healthy hand assured him that the bullet was already out as there were two holes in his upper arm. If he could judge by the pain, the bullet didn't hit the bone. Otherwise he would be probably writhing on the ground and not climbing the rocks. Still, the injury was in the fleshy part and he needed to stop the bleeding.

Ripping off a piece of his shirt, the man quickly bandaged his wounded arm. He then threw a look at his watch and checked the time. It was already forty minutes from the moment he sent Jonah away and he knew without doubt the kid was already half way to Vegas. He sighed, feeling a little sorry for himself. He should've told him to wait longer. Now he had to return to Vegas by himself. It would've been a long walk too, but the man smirked as he remembered the 'shortcut'. Well, it was more of a back up he had for reasons similar to these. After all, he did choose this place for the ambush, planning to use it on the next victim, but it worked out differently. Never mind.

The small wooden cabin that was a leftover of some crazy gold miner from the early 1900's was hidden in the hard terrain, but it was his destination. Only two miles away, he could make it there under a hour and the motor bike with a full tank was waiting on him inside. It wouldn't be a problem to get back to the city and finish the job he was paid for. Two more victims on his list, then he would get rid of the kid, get the rest of his money and bye, bye Vegas. Already in a better mood, he started walking toward his destination, casting one last glance at the useless vehicle below. His arm throbbed and the grin on his face changed into a grimace. Maybe he wouldfind some time and re-pay his debt to the man who shot him. After all, how could he call himself Master if he let this slide?

xXxXx

The light from the explosion was gone by the time Nick threw a second look down across the edge. No flames consuming the insides of the wreck, only one single explosion that took his attention long enough to allow the sniper to flee. Nick once again cursed himself for his reckless actions that could've cost too much. Standing quietly beside him, Grissom sighed then carefully touched Nick's shoulder.

"We should get going, Nick," he said and watched as the younger man looked at him with confusion.

"Go where?"

"Back toward the city. We need to find some place where we can get a signal on our cell phones, then call Brass to send some help."

"You want to leave him here?" Nick barked, and Grissom wasn't sure who he meant: Travis or the sniper? But following the CSI's look, Grissom understood.

"We can't do anything for him, Nick. Travis is most probably already dead. If the fall didn't kill him, then the explosion did. You've seen enough cases like this to know that the chance for survival is minimal."

"But there still is a chance!" Nick shouted and pulled away from Grissom, angrily shaking his head. "He could've fallen out of the car before it even hit the ground! He might be lying there, hurt, waiting for someone to help, and you want me to simply turn my back and walk away? Even you can't be that much of a bastard, Grissom."

"That's enough!" Grissom replied, now equally angry. He understood Nick, hell, he probably wouldn't have acted any differently if the circumstances were reversed, but Nick's words cut deep and his already jagged nerves snapped.

"I am still your supervisor and we're out on a case. I won't let you get yourself killed just because you feel guilty!" The last words hit Nick like a hammer. Not because of the way they were said, but because they were true. And that hurt. Hearing them from a man Nick thought of as a friend and mentor hurt even more. Nick wanted to return the pain.

"You know what, Grissom? I am done listening to you. Go to hell." Seeing the surprise and pain in the older man's eyes made him feel just a little satisfied.

Without anything further, Nick turned and stalked towards their car, opening the back door and brushing off the glass from the broken window. Ignoring the sharp jab of pain in his side, Nick leaned over and started searching.

Grissom was still standing in the same spot he left him when Nick found the rope and other things he planned to use. When he finally decided that the car didn't hold anything else useful, he walked around it and knelt down in front of it, tying the rope to the front bumper of the car. He'd just finished and was about to tie the other end around his waist, when a hand landed on his arm, effectively stopping him.

His first instinct was to back away, his body still in that 'fight or flight' mood, but when he looked up, Nick wasn't facing the sniper but a rather stony faced Gil Grissom.

'A rather pissed off Grissom,' Nick thought without much care. It didn't matter anymore.

"What?" he asked in a hostile tone that surprised even him and Grissom twitched.

"What do you think you're doing, Nick?" the question was uttered in a low, but calm tone that made Nick squirm.

"What does it look like?" he answered. He was just thinking how to tie the rope, when it was pulled from his hands. Before he could protest though, the older man shook his head in warning and raised a hand.

"You're staying here. I am not going to argue with you about this, Nick," Grissom said determinedly. "How do you even plan to tie this around you? You were shot! I really don't think you would be able to save anyone if you end up at the bottom, just because you got dizzy from blood loss. Think a little, Nick!"

"So what am I supposed to do?" Nick asked in a tightly frustrated voice.

"You stay here. I am going." With that, Grissom started tying the rope around himself. After watching him for several long seconds with his mouth hanging open, Nick shook himself and helped him secure the rope, never once meeting the older criminalist's eyes.

"Look Nick, I get what you feel, but we must be careful," Grissom said in low voice when they finished and started walking towards the edge, looking for the best place to try and climb down. "That guy mightstill be somewhere near, watching."

Nick felt the shiver run through his body at the thought that the sniper might be still around, waiting for the right moment to strike. Suddenly the thought of just walking away and callingfor help didn't sound so bad to Nick, but he quickly shook off the doubt and turned on his flashlight, pointing it down towards the bottom of the hill. At first he was just trying to ascertain what would be the best place for Grissom to start climbing, but then he realized that the flashlight could show them so much more and suddenly he felt like an idiot.

He pointed the light towards the wreck and his eyes went wide as he tried to spot the form of his friend.

The wreck looked horrible. It was upside down, squashed like a toy car and there was a rather big hole in the trunk that looked charred. Squinting, Nick shook his head in amazement.

"Man that looks weird. That wasn't the tank that exploded."

"I don't think so either," Grissom agreed, and frowned when Nick's flashlight made a wider circle around the car and caught something white.

"Wait! Back up…there…stop!"

"Travis?" Nick mumbled, not trusting his own eyes. There, almost seven yards from the wreck lay the figure of his friend, unmoving. His clothes were filthy and even from this distance, Nick could see the flecks of blood on them, but what made him call out the man's name louder was the small movement of his hand.

"Travis!" Nick shouted excitedly. There was no reply. He shot a desperate look at Grissom, who took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay, I am going down. Any good advice?"

"Just this…don't break your neck, man." Nick grinned and gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

"Thanks, that helps a lot," Grissom replied with a snort, then slowly began his descent.

xXxXx

Catherine slammed the phone back on its cradle, shaking her head in despair. She was sitting at the desk of one Gil Grissom, Entomologist and current supervisor of the team. 'Current', because Catherine was sure he wouldn't stay in his position much longer after this night.

She'd come to work a few minutes before the shift started and engrossed herself in the case she was working on, giving the finishing touches to the documentation. She'd realized that something was wrong only when Warrick and Sara came to her, asking where Grissom was. They'd managed to close another case and needed his signature.

But Catherine didn't know where Grissom was, so they went around the lab, looking for him, only to realize that not only was Grissom missing, but Nick was too. Their first thought was that they'd been called to a new case and had just forgotten to inform them. But several calls later Catherine found out that there were no new cases. When she checked at reception, she learned that both men left the building together half an hour before the shift's start. Frowning, she tried to call first Grissom then Nick on their cell phones, but both men were out of reach. The empty pit in her stomach grew wider and she couldn't stop the image of a horrible car wreck invading her mind.

Thus the next logical person to call was Detective Jim Brass.

"I heard from them about an hour ago, they went to meet Nick's buddy, Travis. Then I was called of to the hospital, a victim from one of my cases just woke up and I had to take his statement. I turned off my cell."

"What about your pager?"

"Ah, the damn thing is broken. Who's making these things, anyway?" Brass rambled.

"You didn't try to call them later?"

"I just left the hospital, first call I got is from you. Why?"

"I can't reach either Gil or Nick. Just where did they have to meet this Travis guy?"

"Nick gave me the address. I already sent a car to check it out, but their car isn't there. Look, let me check at the station, maybe they left me a message there. I'll call you back, okay?"

So Catherine waited five more minutes, silently seething in the Entomologist's office, futilely trying to find some scrap of paper with an address or something else that would tell her more. Before she could lose her patience and call Brass back herself, the phone started ringing.

"About time," she muttered, thinking the detective had some good news, but she didn't anticipate the cursing that met her.

"Damn stubborn mule headed-"

"Jim?" she broke through and the cursing stopped.

"Oh, sorry," Brass mumbled. "I have some news."

"I take it it's not good?" Catherine asked and her hand gripped the phone tightly. "What happened, Jim?"

"Ah, nothing as far as I know," Brass said a little more calmly, realizing that his outburst might've spooked her a little. "They're probably all right, though I doubt they will be once I finish with them. Those stupid goons went on a chase, without a backup."

"Where?"

"Red Rock Canyon."

TBC