Chapter 7
A/N: All disclaimers apply. This story is slightly AU. Also, this chapter is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine! Could have taken place sometime during season 8.
Silence surrounded him. Then he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, Grissom saw Sara coming towards him. Damnit! What was she doing here? Anger and worry flooded through him.
"Sara, you have to leave! NOW! This has nothing to do with you…I have to take of this," hissed Grissom.
"Gil, I absolutely have to be here. I want to help. Please, Gil. Let me help you."
The sound of a door creaking open caught their attention. He quickly grabbed Sara and shoved her towards some empty crates stacked near the door they had just entered. "Quickly, Sara, get behind those crates and stay put. Look, if you really want to help me, when you get the chance, get out of here and let Brass know. You understand?"
"OK, but I will absolutely kill you if anything happens to you. YOU understand," as she scooted behind the crates.
"Hey Grissom. It is Grissom isn't it? I was sent here by Mallory. He sends his greetings," a young well-built black man called out. Turning slightly, Grissom observed the young man as he emerged from the far shadows of the warehouse with a gun pointed in his direction.
"Where's Lucas? This is just between the two of us. If Lucas isn't here, I'm leaving," said a wary Grissom..
"Lucas wouldn't like that. In fact, Lucas thought you might object so some of by buddies came with me to help persuade you to come along," the young man sneered.
Towards Grissom's right, two more men emerged from the crates that were spread near the far warehouse door. Both men walked slowly towards Grissom, each flexing his hands as if preparing for a fight.
Slowly, Grissom backed away from the men. He knew that he had to keep these guys busy so that Sara had a chance to escape.
"Just who are you and where's Mallory?" he growled, "This is just between Lucas and me…. this wasn't what we had agreed upon."
One of the two men near the far door, a blonde with short-cropped hair, scoffed and simply said, "Change of plans. Lucas was delayed and asked us to escort you to him."
"No deal," Grissom said flatly. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
The two men quickly advanced towards Grissom as he attempted make his way from where Sara was hiding, circling around to the middle of the warehouse, closer to the other occupant with the gun.
"You really don't have much of a choice. Either you come along peacefully or we do a little physical persuasion," Blond Hair smiled as he swung his fist and connected with Grissom's left eye. Grissom staggered back as stars sparkled across his vision. Swinging wildly, he fought the two young men who were both bigger and stronger.. His only thought was that he had to keep them busy to allow Sara to escape out the door.
The rest was a blur. Grissom fought desperately and was vaguely aware of shots being fired and a shearing pain in his left shoulder. Staggering back and slamming against the wall behind him, he pulled his Glock from his back, and fired. It seemed that shots were being fired from two different directions, and Grissom fired towards the young black with the gun and then shot towards the far door where he thought the other shots were being fired. Sinking to the floor, Grissom felt and heard footsteps racing around him and voices yelling. Someone was attempting to force him to stand, but he resisted, swinging his hand that held his gun towards the man who had grabbed him. His gun made a connection with the man's head, and Grissom was instantly let go.
"Forget him for right now. We gotta get that girl before she brings help."
Grissom, trying to shake off dizziness, attempted to stand. He managed to gain his feet and staggered a couple of steps back to gain his balance. He only succeeded in falling against the wall.
Waking with a start, he blinked a couple of times, the light from the terrarium that housed his red-kneed tarantula casting a soft glow in his darkened office. Groaning softly, Grissom pulled himself to a sitting position. The pain from his various injuries had settled down to a dull ache. The injured supervisor carefully stood up and then stumbled slowly to his desk. He settled into his office chair and noticed that his cell phone had been placed next to his pain medication. He was sure that his team had already checked the phone logs and processed the instrument.
Grissom looked at his phone and noted the time. He had been out for almost four hours. His thoughts turned to Sara. Hang in there, babe. The team is working to find you. We'll get to you.
His office door silently swung open and Dr. Al Robbins, the night shift coroner, made his way in.
"Gil, you really should be laying down, preferably, in bed. Nick told me you were out of the hospital and in your office. Thought I'd come down and check you out."
"Thanks Al. I'm okay, really."
"No, Gil, you're not. I just want to make sure you don't end up on a slab in the morgue."
Grissom looked at his friend and gave him a small smile. "I won't. I promise. Can you tell me anything about the body that was brought in from the warehouse? Anything more on Marissa Baxter?
With a look of understanding, Robbins sighed. "The young man who was brought in died of gunshot wounds to the heart. He pretty much died instantly. When you shoot, you don't mess around. Ballistics has the bullet fragments, but it's a foregone conclusion that the bullets came from your weapon. There was GSR present on his right hand that was holding a Berretta. Also a foregone conclusion that you shot in self-defense, but, then again, I haven't been interviewed by IA yet. The young man looks to be in his mid twenties and has a number of tattoos, one of which, looks to be the gang symbol of the 5th Street Knights. I don't have the tox panels back, but he doesn't have any track marks, and he doesn't show any of the usual signs of cocaine use."
Grissom arched his eyebrows. "5th Street Knights and no signs of drug use? That really doesn't make much sense. The Knights are heavily into drug use and one of the biggest distributors in the area. Any idea who this guy is?"
"I can answer that," piped in Brass as he slid through the half open door. Closing the door behind him, the homicide detective proceeded to take a chair next to the coroner.
"According to AFIS, our young gang banger is Jamal Kneeland. He was just released from the Southern Nevada Correctional Facility in Indian Springs a week ago. He served two years for aggravated assault and possession."
"Mallory must have connections either with the 5th Street Knights and/or at the prison," guessed Grissom. "There were at least two other guys in that warehouse. Do we know anything about them?"
"Still waiting for CODIS and AFIS to kick out what the team has processed," reported Brass. "By the way, Gil, Conrad is on the hunt for you, along with the undersheriff. Mckeen wasn't too happy about how this whole thing is unfolding. Your team is lying low about your whereabouts, but, you know, Catherine can't protect you for much longer."
Al Robbins stood up. "Gil, you need anything, you know where I'll be. Don't over do it, all right?"
Grissom just waved his friend off and nodded his head. "Thanks, Al. I'll be careful," he replied. Turning to the homicide captain, Grissom asked, "Anything else I should know about?"
"No. I need to head over to PD. Just wanted to give you an update and see how you were faring," said Jim. "Gil, Sara's going to be fine. She's got a good head on her shoulders. Mallory doesn't know what he's got himself into."
"Thanks Jim. I'll be all right when I know that Sara's safe and Mallory is back where he belongs," he sighed.
Catherine checked her cell phone. Ecklie again. Taking a deep breath, the senior CSI answered with a gruff, "Willows."
"Catherine. I want to know where Gil is. He's not answering at the townhouse. He left the hospital with you, so where is he?"
"Conrad, I don't suppose you would believe me if I told you that I took him to my house and left him with my mother," she said drily.
"No, I know better. I'm heading over to his office right now, and heaven help him if he is anywhere near the lab. He should be home. Mckeen is beside himself with this thing. A member of Las Vegas Law Enforcement was gunned down, and the media is demanding answers."
"Conrad, if he is in his office, it was without my permission, like he would follow it anyway. I'm not his keeper," Catherine said tightly.
Rounding the corner, Catherine made a beeline for Grissom's office. She opened his office door, intending to make him leave. The nightshift supervisor was no where to be found.
Having been alerted about Ecklie, Grissom decided that it would be better just to talk to Conrad, and get it over with. He made his way slowly through the hallway towards the Assistant Director's office. Upon reaching his office, Grissom caught the tail end of Conrad's conversation with Catherine. He knocked on the door and entered the lion's den.
"Gil, where the hell have you been? As Assistant Director, there isn't much that goes on at this lab that I don't know about. Undersheriff Mckeen wants to talk to you. You have a lot of explaining to do."
"Well, Conrad, that's why I'm here- to get you up to speed," replied Grissom as he settled into a chair across from Ecklie.
"Before you get started, Gil, I think that Jeff Mckeen needs to be here too. He's getting a lot of heat," said Ecklie, as he punched the undersheriff's number.
"Jeff? Yeah, I found him. In fact, he's in my office. Okay. See you in a few." Conrad dropped the phone back into its cradle and regarded the man sitting before him. Grissom had been a thorn in Conrad's side from the very first day Grissom had started at the lab. Conrad could never quite get around the fierce loyalty his team had towards this scientist. Even though Grissom had only been with the lab a few short years, he had been promoted to Night Shift Supervisor after the Holly Gribbs case. Grissom's tenacity in solving cases had raised the Las Vegas lab from fourteenth in the nation to second, right behind the FBI lab in Quantico. Grissom was well-liked by all who worked with him and had the grudging respect of both prosecuting and defense attorneys. Everything about this man rubbed him the wrong way.
"Gil, Jeff will be here in just a minute and then we can get to the bottom of this," Conrad said in his best no nonsense voice.
A few minutes later, Undersheriff Jeff Mckeen entered the Assistant Director's Office. "Grissom, I've seen you looking better. How are you mending?" asked the undersheriff as he took Grissom's hand and shook it.
"I've felt better, but I doing okay," said Grissom warily.
"Grissom, look…I understand there were some unusual circumstances in what went down. I want to hear about everything."
After hearing Grissom's explanation of the case and the relationship between the criminalist and Mallory, the undersheriff sat back and pursed his lips. Grissom brought Mckeen up to speed on what little they had discovered from the evidence that had been collected.
"So, you think that this Mallory fellow has his sights on you? What about Sidle? What are the chances that we'll get her back?" queried the undersheriff.
Grissom paused before making his reply. "I...I don't think that she is in any real danger. She'll probably be roughed up some, but it's me that Mallory wants. I don't have anything concrete that tells me this. This situation has an entirely different feel to it than what happened in LA County. Mallory operated pretty much as a lone wolf back then; he didn't have any accomplices that we were aware of. Mallory has more than just payback in mind. I'm just not sure what it is. The fact that a member of the 5th Street Knights is involved means that he is into elements beyond than just satisfying his own sadistic needs."
Thoughtfully, Mckeen put his fingertips together and came to a decision. "I think you know that you shouldn't be on this case. Obviously, your involvement could compromise the case should we arrest and bring Mallory to trial, and before you object too strenuously, your team will remain on the case. Grissom, you're hands off, but your insights and perspective will be invaluable. To that end, the department needs to keep you safe. I understand that Brass has your townhouse under surveillance. Even with that, I feel that, for the time being, it would be better that you go no where near your home. I will arrange for you to be ensconced in a safe house. You will be escorted there and the house will be under guard 24/7. I will make sure that you are kept in the loop as the evidence is processed and more information comes in. We'll need you to help with this case, but it has to be under the radar."
Grissom arched his eyebrows in confusion. This was not what he was expecting. He realized that the undersheriff would want him to be hands off, but a safe house?
"Okay," said Grissom slowly. "Undersheriff, I think that if I can just stay in my office instead of this safe house, it would expedite matters. I need to be here, close to my team."
"No, Grissom. Not a good idea. Looking down the road, I want to make sure nothing compromises this case. I also want to protect you, not only because you are a witness but because of your importance to this lab. I will have two uniforms here in the next hour or so to take you to your new residence. You stay put until they get here."
Mckeen turned to Ecklie. "Conrad, I want as few people as possible knowing Grissom's whereabouts. I will inform Grissom's team and have a networking system set up for him to communicate with his team." With a nod to both men, the undersheriff stood up and left the office.
Grissom sank back into the chair and sighed. His feelings of guilt and worry were spilling over into his overtaxed mind. He knew that he should be keeping a low profile, but his concern for Sara's welfare and the memories of his past would force him into taking action against the orders of the undersheriff.
Catherine proceeded down the halls of the crime lab unable to find the wayward Night Shift Supervisor. She approached Grissom's office, hoping to find that he had somehow slipped back into his office without anyone noticing. Inside, she found the undersheriff examining Miss Piggy, Grissom's radiated fetal pig.
"Undersheriff? Can I help you?" asked Catherine, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Catherine. I thought you might show up in Grissom's office sometime. I'd like you to call the rest of the team together. I've talked to Grissom, and I've basically put your supervisor on ice for the time being. The team will continue investigating the case on the condition that he stays hands off."
"Wow, sheriff. That must have taken some talking on your part. I'd like some pointers on your techniques of persuasion," said Catherine drily. "Okay, I'll get the guys together, and we'll meet you in the layout room in five minutes."
TBC
Reviews really encourage me to continue this story and let's me know what y'all think. Please review! Thanks!
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