Journey Through the Past- Chapter 24
Voices were echoing through his mind and he wanted desperately to drop the gun pressed against Jones' head and hold it against his own. His broken left wrist was throbbing and his aching ribs made it almost impossible to breathe. His vision was blurring, the images before him doubled causing him to shut his eyes.
"Grissom,"came the soft voice, "You need to give me the gun. We'll get to Sara, but, first, you have to give me the gun."
Grissom's eyes sprang open and he saw his son standing in front of Jones with his hand reaching out for the gun.
Scott had seen his father lurch around the corner and hold the gun to Jones' head. He was mesmerized by the sight of the father he had just discovered and the man who wanted to be locked together. Shaking himself to do something, he could see that Grissom was losing his battle to keep what little control that he had been able to muster together. Though he didn't trust Jones and was angry for his part in the destruction of his family, Scott did not wish the man dead. He had to do something to save Grissom from himself and to save Jones from certain death if this scenario continued.
"Please…please...Father…you need to give me the gun, I…I'll guard him for you, but we've got to get to Sara. She's waiting for us. C'mon…please," asked Scott, the urgency in his voice evident. The last thing they needed right now would be to have Mallory or his sycophants show up and really complicate matters.
Jones looked up sharply at the young man, hurt obviously showing in his eyes, but he remained silent. Scott had never once acted as though he was a father to him in all the years he had raised the young man. Yet just after knowing this injured man for a short while had referred to him as Father. Resentment started to filter through to Jones.
Grissom, too, was startled by Scott's use of the term. He sucked in his breath. Was it real or was it a hallucination? Grissom couldn't tell, but he wasn't about to give up his one bargaining chip.
"N…no…Scott…can't…ju…just take us to Sara. I need you to take us to Sara," pleaded Grissom softly, his shaking evidently worsening by the second.
Scott backed off and slowly nodded. He didn't have time to argue. Looking across the compound to make sure that they would not be seen by prying eyes, Grissom's son signaled for the men to stay where they were while he checked things out. They would have to stay in the shadows of the buildings in order to avoid detection. Scott swiftly crisscrossed his way to the next building. The young man hung back in the shadows, his heart jumping into his throat. Around the corner, walking quickly, and obviously angry, was Mallory, who making his way to the administration building.
Probably looking for Jones. This could be a problem. Scott waited until the man had entered the building and then quickly signaled for Jones and Grissom to make their way towards him.
Grissom roughly pushed Jones forward and lowered the Beretta so that it was pressed against the doctor's back and out of sight for anyone who was just glancing their way. Grasping Jones' shoulder more for support than to keep the man under control, Grissom staggered forward trying to focus his vision on his son who was waving them frantically to the waiting shadows. Jones moved forward stiffly, well aware of the shaking gun that was pressed up against his back.
"Grissom, you don't have to do this. I can help you….just put the gun down. I…I can hide you from Mallory and give you the medical help that you need. I can do the same for Sara," said Jones in a low voice, while keeping his head forward, staring at Scott.
"Shut up….just shut up," Grissom said in a tight whisper.
Scott watched the two men make their way towards him with increasing distress. The two men were weaving back and forth along the side of the building trying to make it to the dark alleyway between the two buildings where Scott was waiting. Grissom was sweating profusely, and Scott could see the grip that he had on Jones' shoulder was tightening despite the broken wrist. When they reached the darkened area between the two buildings, Grissom shoved Jones against one of the walls before collapsing on his knees, gasping. Dizziness swept over him, and he started to shake uncontrollably.
Jones swiftly crouched down and took Grissom's vitals. Grissom felt his heart thundering in his chest as sweat continued to pour down him.
Pushing Jones away roughly, Grissom pointed the gun at him and cocked the trigger.
"Don't touch me," the man panted.
"Grissom, you need relief. Please, I can help you," pleaded Jones as he eyed the gun. Jones stood and backed a step away, giving the man some space.
"No more drugs," ground out Grissom, "Ju..just get me to Sara."
Scott, knowing that his father needed something to relieve the pain and the effects of the drugs that were in his system, realized that Grissom would not make it to the building in which Sara was being held prisoner. Once they did get him there, his condition would only worsen. The man's condition needed to be stabilized quickly if they were going to even attempt an escape. Around the corner was Mallory's lab. If Grissom could make it there, they would be able to at least lessen the effects of the drugs. They would have to move quickly as there was no telling how long Mallory would be before he would return to the lab.
"Father, Sara is clear across the compound. You won't make it. Jones is right. You need something to stabilize you. Mallory's lab is around the corner. If you can make it there, we can use a room next to the lab and probably get you something so that you will feel more in control. I can bring Sara to you," said Scott in a low voice, hoping that his words would convince Grissom to go with this plan.
As Grissom felt his control continuing to slip, he tightened his grip on the weapon. Scott reached down and helped his father stand up on wobbly legs. Glancing at his son, Grissom straightened his stance and reluctantly nodded.
"Lead the way, Scott," he rasped, as he motioned for Jones to turn around and pressed the Beretta into the man's back, his injured left hand grasping Jones's shoulder once more for support.
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Greg Sanders entered the layout room with a sheaf of papers in his hands. The person he sought was going over the reports sent from Vartann on gang members with recent arrests, releases from prison, and convictions from the 5th Street Knights.
"Catherine, I found a link that has real possibilities. I don't know why we didn't catch this before, but look at this. I think I might know where Grissom and Sara might have ended up. Hopefully, they'll still be there, and this whole mess can be cleared up," said the eager young CSI.
Catherine looked up at her colleague and gave him a skeptical look. "Okay, Greg. What did you uncover?"
"It seems that this Lucas Mallory had a cousin, one Kenneth Jones, MD. He's a doctor specializing in psychiatry. He deals with patients who have addiction problems."
"Okay, Greg. So what's this got to do with Grissom? Just because he's related to an escaped convict doesn't necessarily mean that he is mixed up with his cousin's criminal activity," countered Catherine.
"Catherine, there's more. He heads up a clinic entitled The Nevada Treatment Center for Addictions. It's located a few miles north of Goldfield. The property was owned by LH Holding and its title was transferred to MG Enterprises a few months ago," explained an excited Greg Sanders.
The lead CSI took the papers from Greg and studied his findings. Giving him a wide grin, she handed them back to him. Consulting the map of Nevada, Catherine pinpointed the approximate location of the clinic.
"Okay, I'll call Brass. He and the guys are with McKeen serving warrants for two properties in Beatty. This clinic is in Esmeralda County, about an hour and half from where they are. I believe that the clinic is in Judge Steven Andersen's jurisdiction in Esmeralda County. Brass will need to get the warrant from him," said Catherine as she picked up her cell phone.
"Hey, Jim…."
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Mallory radioed Lopez, anxious to see what progress his men had made. He nervously paced the room that served as his lab as he held the radio before him.
"Lopez, what's your status? Any sign of Grissom."
There came a few seconds of static as Lopez's voice crackled through the speaker.
"Ummm…N…no sir…we're still looking. We're…we're checking under every rock. We found some boot prints that were headed through the desert, but it couldn't have been Grissom. He didn't have any shoes. It's probably Grissom's kid when he was traipsing around out here."
"Well, keep looking. It'll be dark again soon, and this is taking too long. I want him found. You hear me!" Mallory shouted angrily into the radio.
"Yes…yes, we're on it."
Lopez turned to Baker who had been listening to the brief conversation. Baker shrugged his shoulders and lifted the binoculars hanging around his neck to continue scanning the desert landscape. The shadows of late afternoon were starting to grow long. Mallory had made it clear that they would keep searching until they found their escapee. Grimly, they continued their search. Grissom was going to buy it if and when they found his sorry ass for getting them on the wrong side of Mallory.
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Leaving the sheriff's station in Beatty, Brass handed the warrant to do a search and seizure at the Nevada Clinic for Addictions to Under sheriff Jeff McKeen. Catherine had relayed the information Greg Sanders had researched and Brass had been able to get the warrant processed quickly.
"Do we know exactly where is clinic is, Captain?" asked McKeen as he leafed through the paperwork.
"According to Sheriff Bond, it's a few miles north of Goldfield, off a dirt road called Dry Canyon Road. Pretty fitting for the middle of the desert," said Brass wryly. "Incidentally, the clinic is out of his jurisdiction so he called Sheriff Taylor in Esmeralda County in Goldfield to request back up. Taylor and a deputy will meet us in Goldfield and lead us in."
McKeen looked out north through the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon.
Thinking out loud, McKeen mused,"It's late afternoon now. By the time we get to Goldfield and meet up with Taylor, it will be dark. Then we'll have to find the place. If Grissom and Mallory are there, would it be better to wait until dawn? Too easy to disappear into the desert with night approaching. There are all kinds of caves, abandoned mining shafts, and canyons out there a couple of men could hide in."
Turning to the captain, McKeen informed Brass of his decision.
"Jim, let's get to Goldfield and meet up with Taylor. Once we get there, we can map out a strategy. An early morning sweep might work out the best. They're in remote location. We go in there at night, they'll see us miles out and might escape. Grissom and Mallory, if they're there, aren't going anywhere."
"Jeff, I just soon get this over with. I know the evidence against Grissom is overwhelming, but the sooner we get our hands on these guys, the sooner we'll be able to figure out what's what. We can go in using night vision goggles and lights out."
McKeen shook his head.
"I want this done right. I don't want any chance for there to be a screw up. I want this planned out. No slip ups. We'll wait until just before dawn," said McKeen with finality. "Let's load up and head on up to Goldfield. Taylor's waiting."
McKeen turned from Brass and got into the waiting patrol car. Pritchard was behind the wheel.
"Pritchard, we're headed to Goldfield. Are you clear on what you're supposed to do when we get the clinic? I want Mallory and Grissom taken care of."
Officer Pritchard cast a sideways glance at the under sheriff and said in an impatient tone, "Yeah, I'm clear on what I'm supposed to do. You've been over it enough over the last day or so. Don't worry. Grissom and this Mallory won't be a problem."
"Yeah, well, Grissom was supposed to be taken care of at the safe house. Look how that turned out," grumbled McKeen
A/N: This chapter is somewhat short. It was either that or go miles long. Things are starting to come together though. Please review and tell me what you think. They really keep me going. Thanks! becky