Journey Through the Past- Chapter 33
Mallory was growing short on patience. He had been standing with a semi-conscious, trembling Grissom for well over five minutes and saw little movement among the law enforcement personnel below. He decided that they needed to know that he meant business.
"Hey Brass! My patience is growing thin. I think you guys need a little incentive to get young Mr. Grissom up here," shouted Mallory to the law enforcement gathered below him.
"Mallory! We're going as fast as we can. The medical bag was stashed under some medical supplies. It took them a minute to find it. Dr. Jones is putting water in the bag as we speak," Brass called out.
"I think your guys need to hurry it up a bit. I don't think Grissom can wait until you get your act together down there."
Hefting Grissom a little higher in his left arm, Mallory swung his right arm back slightly and rocked Grissom across the side of the head with the Glock. Grissom's head flew back and hit Mallory's shoulder with a dull thud. The strike opened a wide gash across right side of Grissom's face. The injured man let out a low moan as his knees buckled and he lost his fight to stay conscious.
Upon seeing Grissom's head fly back from the blow, Brass seethed with anger. Turning his head, he barked into his radio, "What the hell is the hold up? We need Scott up here now!"
Mallory watched with grim satisfaction as he watched an angry Jim Brass order one of his CSI's to hustle Grissom's son along.
Inside the helicopter, Ken Jones quickly switched the labels of the syringes that Mallory had shoved into the bag. Taking an empty needle, he also filled it with medication that would help Grissom gain some equilibrium, hoping that Scott would have a chance to administer it to Grissom while Mallory was occupied with other matters. He didn't label this one, but held on to it while he packed the bag with half a dozen water bottles. Handing the bag to Catherine, he also handed her the syringe. When she gave him a questioning look, he quietly told her to slip the needle into Scott's hands. The young man would know what to do with it.
Taking the bag from Jones, Catherine carefully backed out of the helicopter and turned to Scott who was anxiously waiting for the bag. She handed him the bag and surreptitiously slipped the syringe into his hand. Startled, Scott looked at Catherine and then glanced back at Jones who gave him a nod. For a moment their eyes locked and Scott gave him a grateful smile and slid the syringe securely up his sleeve.
"Be careful," said Jones softly as he watched his would-be son hurry up the steep incline to reach Grissom.
Scott climbed up as quickly as he could, wondering how in the world Mallory was able to drag Grissom up the slippery slope. It didn't take him more than ten minutes to make the climb and as he pulled himself up to the ledge, Mallory backed away from the ledge to allow the young man to pull himself up. Scott shoved the bag up onto the ledge and climbed up onto the ledge.
From the short distance away, Brass watched closely as Grissom's son quickly made his way up to the overhang. He saw Mallory step back, pulling Grissom, who was slumping on his knees, back. Brass took this moment while Mallory's attention was diverted, to position the deputies with long range rifles. Mallory was now pointing the gun at Scott while the young man stood up and picked up the bag to hand it to him. The brush growing close to the overhang obscured the view from below preventing the deputies from getting a clear shot. Brass sighed. They would have to wait to see what Mallory had in mind. For right now, things were at a standstill.
Scott looked with disdain at the man who was holding his father hostage. As far as Scott was concerned, this man was responsible for his mother's death and now, perhaps his father's. Anger surged within him, and Scott clenched and unclenched his fists. His eyes smoldered with hate as he stared at the man holding his father up on his knees.
Scott turned his full attention to his father. Even though Grissom was unconscious, tremors were coursing through his body. Mallory had made no attempt to take the medical bag from Scott, so Scott set the bag down and quickly took out a bottle of water.
Mallory let Grissom fall unceremoniously onto the hard rock surface and crouching low, backed away from the man.
"Well, Junior. Your old man looks like he could use some water. Give him a little and let's see if the water is spiked with anything," said Mallory softly.
"There's nothing in the water. No tricks, remember?" Scott said quietly.
Scott sat down and pulled his unconscious father onto his lap. He carefully dribbled a little water into Grissom's mouth. Reaching into the medical bag, Scott took out some gauze and wet soaked it with water from the bottle. He lightly ran the wet gauze over Grissom's face and then proceeded to wipe the gash across his cheek.
Grissom was in a fog. He was slowly regaining consciousness, though he would have preferred the blackness that had briefly enveloped him. He felt the impact of being dropped on the rock ledge which sent new shudders through him. When his head hit the flat surface of the rock, fresh pain exploded and joined the thunderous pounding that was already present. He groaned softly, but then felt strong hands carefully lifting him and had him resting on something firm. Cool water was dribbled between his parched lips, and he eagerly swallowed. Grissom felt the relief of a cool moist cloth gliding across his forehead and over his face. More water was brought to his lips and he swallowed eagerly.
"Easy…easy… just a little or you'll throw it up," said a soft, but familiar voice. Grissom tried to remember where he had heard that voice., but then he heard another voice, harsh and angry.
"Give me that water bottle," demanded the voice.
Grissom's mind cleared a little, but he was confused. "Scott," came the hoarse whisper, 'how…why?" He couldn't articulate what he wanted to ask, but cracked open his eyes. Grissom winced at the bright sunlight filtering into the alcove. He could only see clearly out of his right eye as his left eye was swollen shut from the blow to his head that Mallory had given him earlier. His vision cleared a little and he looked up to see the concerned face of his son.
"Sh…sh.. just rest easy. Have a little more water," Scott said gently in a low voice as he reached for another bottle of water. "Just sip it, okay?"
Keeping his eyes on Grissom and his son, Mallory edged closer to the edge of the overhang, making sure he kept behind the brush that rose slightly above the lip of the ledge. He glanced quickly over the brush and took note that Brass and the rest of the law enforcement officers were still below. No one was trying to make their way up the incline.
Satisfied that for now the police were being kept at bay, Mallory turned his attention to his captives. Mallory opened the bag and quickly checked his contents. The syringes he had placed in there back at the clinic seemed to be all there. He grinned, and took out a syringe with Grissom's name labeled on it. Holding it out to Scott, Mallory said icily, "Give this to your old man. It will push the withdrawal symptoms back."
Scott looked at the syringe and just as icily said, "No, it'll send him deeper into another trip. He won't be able to take it. He'll overdose."
Thrusting the syringe out to the young man, Mallory said forcefully, "Give it to him now, or I put a bullet in him to put him out of his misery."
At that moment, Brass's voice called out to Mallory. "Mallory! You've got water and Grissom's son. What's it going to be now, heh? What's the next step?"
Mallory dropped the needle at Scott's feet. "I'm keeping an eye on you. When I get done with Brass, I'd better see a needle mark in his arm and that syringe empty. You understand me?" ordered Mallory.
The escaped convict turned his attention to Brass while at the same time pointing the gun at the two men behind him. "Captain, I have my gun pointed at your precious Grissom and his kid. You keep your men away. Believe it or not, Brass, I'm trying to help Grissom right now. He's going through some major withdrawal which will likely send him into convulsions and he'll die."
Jim Brass clenched his fists, angry at feeling so helpless. From what he had seen of his friend, Grissom was in terrible shape and likely Mallory was telling the truth in that regard.
"Okay, no one down here will approach the outcropping. What else do you want? You know that we aren't just going to walk away from here. Maybe we can somehow resolve this without anyone else getting hurt. What do you say?" Brass called out, trying to think of a way to save both Grissoms without anyone else getting injured, let alone getting killed. With Scott up there, they probably bought Grissom some time, but Brass was sure the man's condition was deteriorating rapidly in this heat.
"Okay Brass, this is what I want. In about five minutes after Grissom's boy here has given his old man an injection, he's going to help me walk his old man down this incline. You're going to evacuate that helicopter except for the pilot. Grissom and I will get on that chopper and then I'll release his kid."
Brass was dumbfounded. Mallory had to be kidding. He really thought that he was going to be allowed to escape in one the department's own helicopters? This guy certainly had guts.
"Mallory, you know that I'm not going to let you do that."
" Then Grissom's as good as dead. As soon as I'm safe from the law, I'll release him. Unless you want two dead bodies up here, you'll meet my demands. I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose. Make the choice. You have five minutes, no longer."
Scott glared at Mallory and reluctantly picked up the needle. He rolled Grissom's sleeve up and glanced back at Mallory. Seeing that Mallory was half turned away, he quickly slipped the needle up his sleeve and pulled the alternate needle out, making sure he fastened the label from Mallory's needle to the one he was about to insert into his father's arm.
Grissom looked at his son with a slightly unfocused look. Trying to remember what had all transpired, flashes of memory flitted through his mind. This is Scott…my son. He's here. Shouldn't he be with… Rachel? The memory falling on his knees in front of Rachel's gravestone appeared. No, not Rachel…Sara…Sara's dead too? Told him to stay with Sara…take care of Sara…should be with Sara
"Scott...Sara," Grissom whispered hoarsely. "Where's Sata?"
"It's okay. She's okay. She's in good hands and being taken care of. Dad, look at me. I'm giving you something that will help you, okay?"
Before he could respond, Scott plunged the needle into Grissom's shaking arm. His father's dark blue eyes widened a little with a look of surprise. Dropping the needle, Scott held onto his father tightly as the tremors continued. Grissom clenched his teeth as the medication coursed through his body. The swirling haziness that was hovering over him, along with the pounding in his head was gradually dissipating. It still hurt to breathe, but the panic that had taken over his body was lessening. Scott felt his father's body start to relax as his breathing became somewhat easier though he was still wheezing and coughing up blood.
"I…I want to check you over, okay," said Scott softly. "It looks like you took a bit a beating when the jeep rolled."
"Jeep? What jeep?" asked a confused Grissom.
Scott stopped and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I just want to check you out."
Scott quickly ran his hands over his father's arms and legs. Except for the left wrist that had been mending but was now clearly broken, all his other limbs seemed to be okay. His arms were cut and scratched from being dragged through the brush. Checking out the rest of his body, Scott guessed that his sore ribs were also now broken and from the coughing of blood and distressed breathing, he also surmised that Grissom may have punctured a lung. Internal injuries were a distinct possibility, but Scott didn't quite have the medical expertise to diagnose that problem. Grissom needed immediate medical attention, of that he was sure.
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Sara watched with growing concern as she observed Scott climb the incline to the overhang. Grissom was up there, obviously in worse shape than she had last seen him, and there was little she could do. The morphine that Jones had given her had taken affect, making the pain in her side a dull ache. Jones had been able to stop the bleeding, but the blood loss had left her pale and weak. She gingerly emerged from the helicopter into the bright Nevada sunlight so that she might have a better view of what was going on. Dizziness swept through her as she swayed slightly when she took a step away from the helicopter.
"Sara, you should be lying down on that gurney, not out here in the heat," said Ken Jones when he noticed that she was standing near him.
Sara shook her head. "I can't lay there when I know that Grissom's in trouble. What's going on? Why isn't Brass doing something?" she demanded in a low voice.
Catherine and Warrick came trotting back to the helicopter. "Doc, we're going to need to evacuate the chopper. Both EMT's need to clear the helicopter now. Leave all the medical supplies. Sara, Jim wants you over towards those boulders that way," Catherine ordered as she pointed to a group of rocks some distance away from the chopper.
"Catherine? What's going on? Why are we evacuating the chopper?" asked Sara, her anxiety rising.
"Sara, it's going to be okay," said Warrick in a soothing voice, "Jones, please help her to those rocks. We need a clear path to the chopper."
Sara glanced up at the overhang, and realization hit her. Looking at Warrick, she exclaimed in a low voice, "Mallory wants the chopper. He's going to use it to try to get away, isn't he? Is he taking Grissom or Scott with him?" Sara's voice was rising as her emotions started to go into overdrive.
Catherine attempted to calm the young brunette down. "Mallory's not going to get that far, but we have to make it look like we're clearing the way for him to take it. Gil's not doing well, and all this is to buy him a little time."
"Sara, girl, the best thing you can do for Grissom now is to stay safe. He'd want that. Sara," said Warrick, taking a deep breath, "Brass's got it under control. Let him run with it."
Sara slowly nodded, knowing that Warrick was right. She let herself be quickly led to the rocks, but made sure that she had a clear view of the helicopter.
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Mallory took a moment to observe Grissom and his son. Grissom's tremors had lessened considerably. Scott was talking in a low voice to his father, and Grissom was nodding slowly. The communication between father and son made Mallory uneasy. Taking a couple of steps back towards them, Mallory nudged Scott with the Glock.
"Hey, move away from him now," growled Mallory.
Scott stood up and moved slowly away from Grissom, who was still trying to get his bearings. The thunderous pounding in his head was still present but was slowly easing off. He weakly pushed himself to a sitting position as pain through his midsection seemed to take his breath away. Wrapping his arms around his abdomen seemed to help control the sudden surge of pain. Grissom shook his head trying to shake loose the cobwebs that seemed to cover all his thoughts. He thought he heard Brass's voice through the haze. Wasn't he trying to get away from Brass? The world was still spinning and he couldn't wrap his head around the current situation. The roller coaster regimen of drugs that had been given to him plus the physical injuries that had been inflicted upon him was wreaking havoc with his mind and body.
He looked up at Mallory and tried to focus on the man standing before him. They were both trying to escape from whoever was chasing them, but there was something else he couldn't quite grasp. It had something to do with Brass. Flashes of memories from his life in Vegas merged with his thoughts. They were all jumbled together with his experiences of his time at the clinic.
"Grissom, I had your kid give you something to lessen the shaking. Are you feeling a little better?" asked Mallory as he crouched down close to the wheezing man.
Grissom stared at Mallory for a moment and slowly nodded his head. Mallory stared back at the man sitting before him somewhat puzzled. Grissom should be immersed in one hell of a trip. Instead, the man's eyes were starting the clear. It wasn't true when he told Grissom that his shaking would lessen, but seeing the man's condition actually improving, Mallory felt that he had to say something. The man should be experiencing severe convulsions on his way to an overdose that would kill him. Turning to Scott, he eyed the young man, his suspicions aroused.
"What did you give him? Where's that syringe? Heaven help you if it isn't empty," growled Mallory.
"It's right there by your feet. I gave him the whole thing," said Scott softly. "Maybe you screwed up the dosage or what was in it."
"Shut up. I didn't screw anything up," sneered Mallory.
Looking down at Grissom who was starting the remember bits and pieces of the last few days, Mallory shook his head. He obviously had underestimated Grissom's will to become fully addicted to the combination drugs he had been giving him. He reached for another syringe in the bag.
"No. You're not giving any more of that poison," said Grissom in a low voice, as he slowly scooted back away from Mallory.
"Grissom, you're not in a position to make demands. I have the gun, remember? Besides, the last dose helped you, didn't it?" Mallory said as he pointed the gun at Scott.
Grissom looked at his son and then back at Mallory. His mind went into overdrive trying to find a way out of this dilemma. He was confused as to why Scott was here in the first place. Wasn't he supposed to be safe with Catherine? How did he get here? Grissom shook his head. It didn't matter now. His top priority would be to ensure his son's safety.
Scott had backed up against the wall of the alcove and felt the Glock pressed up against his back. He had never used a gun in hi life, but he would use it if he had to. The younger Grissom watched his father scoot himself backwards away from Mallory.
"Mallory, I'll…I'll do anything you want- just leave Scott out of this. You're wanting to escape by helicopter, right? I'll go with you willingly and you can do anything you want with me- just let him go," pleaded Grissom softly.
Mallory regarded both men carefully. He knew either man would sacrifice himself for the other. He wanted Grissom to suffer more than he had already. Mallory grinned as a new plan formed in his mind.
"Okay, Grissom. It's a deal. Your boy will accompany us to the chopper. Once we are aboard the chopper, I'll let him go. You will stay with me, and I'll give your next dose on the chopper, and you'll take it willingly."
Grissom swallowed hard. He didn't trust Mallory as far as he could throw him, but at this point, he had little choice. He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head in agreement.
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Nick radioed the deputies who were on the cliff above the alcove. The four deputies above positioned themselves so that each had a clear view of the helicopter. Each was equipped with a rifle, but the range was a problem. They were at the very edge of the range of the rifles.
Standing a few yards from Brass, Nick gave the police detective a slight nod to let him know that the sharpshooters above were in position. Brass turned his attention back to the alcove.
"Mallory," shouted the police captain. "We've evacuated the helicopter. Only the pilot is on board. We've cleared the way."
Lucas Mallory peered over the edge of the precipice. The deputies seemed to have disappeared. Only Brass and the team of CSI's were present.
"Hey, Captain Brass- You and your men are to back off. I mean way off. I don't want to even be able to see you and your men anywhere near. As soon as you and your team are out of sight, we'll start our descent. If you don't back off right now, I start shooting both men."
Jim Brass looked up at the outcropping and could see Grissom and Scott standing in front of Mallory who had the gun pointing at both men. Grissom's right arm was draped around his son's shoulder, but it appeared that Grissom was at least conscious. Brass sighed, but turned and waved the members of the team behind him to back off and head back up the canyon about 100 yards.
Taking one last look over his shoulder as he backed off, Brass watched briefly as Mallory and the Grissoms prepared to descend down the incline.
A/N: Another chapter in. I had a little trouble with this one as I wasn't really satisfied with the direction it was going. I rewrote this chapter a couple of times, and I think I like it better now. Tell me what you think…..Thanks for sticking with me.