Journey Through the Past- Chapter 35
From her observation post near the helicopter, Catherine watched the three men reach the boulders some 25 yards from the helicopter. Through her binoculars, she watched as Grissom and Scott make it to the boulders first. Catherine had not seen Grissom since she had picked him up from the hospital and they had met with the team in his office over Sara's disappearance. She was shocked at his haggard appearance. Grissom had definitely lost weight, and if Catherine were to hazard a guess, at least a good twenty to twenty- five pounds. She winced when she noticed his left arm hanging awkwardly by his side. The broken wrist was obviously in worse shape than before he disappeared. Gone was the cast, and it looked as though it had grown to twice its normal size and was extremely discolored. There were contusions on his face, including a nasty gash across his forehead. Noticing that the Grissom and Scott were handcuffed together, Catherine watched Scott gingerly unwrap his arm from around his father's waist. Grissom's face was contorted not only in pain but with anger as well.
A flash of light from the cliff above drew her attention and a second later, the sound of a rifle shot echoed through the desert canyon. Catherine quickly focused her attention back to the three men making their way to the helicopter. The rotors to the helicopter had started up and the dust was kicking up. Before she lost sight of the three men in the ensuing duststorm, she saw Mallory fly forward into both Grissom and Scott from the impact of the bullet from the rifle, sending all three men crashing into the boulders.
Catherine was at lost for words. Brass had told her that he was going to allow Mallory to board that helicopter without any shots being fired. What the hell happened? Catherine immediately picked up her radio.
"Jim, what the hell's happening out there?" demanded Catherine.
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Jim Brass watched as Mallory flew into both Scott and Grissom from the impact of the bullet. All three men crashed headlong into the boulders as the dust rising off the desert floor enveloped them. Brass was immediately on his radio.
"Everyone converge. Let's go. Move it," screamed Brass into his radio as he took off running towards the boulders.
His radio chirped and he heard Catherine's angry voice explode over the speaker. "Catherine, I wasn't going to let Mallory on that helicopter, and I sure in the hell didn't want Sara to know what I was planning. You keep her back there. I don't know what we're going to find once the dust settles."
Brass knew he would catch hell from Catherine later, but she wasn't his priority at this point. His only concern was neutralizing Mallory and getting to Grissom.
The dust and dirt continued to rise as the helicopter rose and flew away as per Brass's orders. He stopped for a moment to watch the helicopter take off and was satisfied that at least Mallory wouldn't be using it as a means of escape.
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The tension Grissom was feeling lessened somewhat after Scott had promised not to try anything rash. Adrenalin rushed through him as his anger continued to rise. His anger was starting to consume him, but he wasn't sure whether it was directed at himself, at Mallory, or at their pursuers. All he knew at this point was that this nightmare had to end somehow. As they reached the rocks, Grissom looked up and stared as the rotors of the helicopter started to turn. In a few seconds, the wind caused by the rotation of the rotors would kick up the sand. Glancing backward over his shoulder to see Mallory quickly approaching him and Scott, Grissom, out of the corner of his eye, caught a flash from the cliff above them.
A second later the echo from the rifle shot could be heard dimly over the beating blades of the helicopter. Suddenly, Mallory lurched forward, crashing into both him and Scott. The collision sent the three of them flying into the boulders that Grissom and Scott had just arrived at. Scott, unaware of what was happening, did not have time to try to break their fall but instead crashed headlong into the rock, partially cushioning his father from full impact into the granite surface of the rock. However, the younger Grissom took the brunt of the collision. Scott was rendered unconscious, bleeding from a deep gash to the side of his head.
Grissom lay twisted on top of his son, a bit disoriented. The rising dust was making it harder for him to breathe. Choking and coughing from the debris being swirled into the air, the injured man attempted to roll off his son without causing greater injury to Scott's head. Squinting into the rising dust storm, Grissom could just make out the image of Mallory, face down on top of his legs, making the task of rolling off Scott nearly impossible. Grissom lay on top of Scott with his right arm still draped over Scott's shoulders.
Taking a moment to check Scott's condition, Grissom let out a sigh of relief to see that his son was still breathing. Turning his head, Grissom looked down at Mallory. He could just see where the bullet entered Mallory's back. However, the flak jacket was enough to prevent any penetration of the bullet. Though the bullet didn't enter his body, Mallory would suffer one hell of a bruise. Mallory was starting to stir, and Grissom quickly realized that he needed to take control of the situation before his nemesis got his bearings. Painfully, Grissom reached down with left hand to try to find the keys to the handcuffs. Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut to control the pain, Grissom desperately searched Mallory's front pants pocket for the keys. He could barely feel his fingers and gave a squeak of success when one of his fingers hooked around the key ring that held the keys. He withdrew the keys and fumbled with them until he found the one he was looking for.
With his eyes stinging from the grit in the air stirred up by the chopper, Grissom clumsily reached over Scott's shoulder and was able to insert the key and unlock the bracelet from his wrist. As quickly as his broken ribs would allow, Grissom pushed Mallory off his legs and reached for the Glock that lay at his feet. Apparently Mallory had lost it when the bullet propelled him forward. Holding his left arm against his side, Grissom staggered to his feet.
Lucas Mallory's head was spinning. Coughing and choking, he suddenly felt like he was suffocating as he breathed in the grit stirred up by the rising helicopter. His back was on fire as he felt himself being pushed and rolled onto the desert sand. When he was suddenly propelled into Grissom and Scott, his head collided with the granite rock, and the impact stunned him momentarily. Now, he was laying facedown in the sand, and as his mind started to clear, Mallory could hear the whump, whump of the helicopter. Mallory heard and recognized the ragged breathing close by. Grissom! Got to get to Grissom and get to that helicopter! Choking, he pushed himself up only to be kicked back down into the sand. Groaning from the kick in the ribs, Mallory opened his eyes a crack against the flying dust and could just make out a ragged figure standing over him, pointing a gun at him.
Mallory looked up to see the ghostly image of the helicopter rising and moving away as the grit continued to swirl about. His mind went into overdrive. Brass and his men would be here soon. Should have known better. It was a trap to flush us out. He never intended to let me get away on that chopper. Brass had attempted to have him taken out by shooting him. Anger at being tricked fueled the rage that suddenly seemed to be burning in his chest. He had been one step ahead of the police captain by putting on the flak jacket. Well, Brass is going to pay for the deception. His precious Grissom will pay the price…
Hoping that Grissom would buy his act and let his guard down, Mallory groaned loudly as he rose to his knees, keeping his arms wrapped around his middle as if his ribs were broken. Peeking up out of half-closed eyes, he watched as Grissom glance back at Scott, who was lying still with his eyes closed. Now that the helicopter was moving away, the dust was settling.
"Grissom," groaned Mallory loudly.
With his attention briefly diverted from his son, Grissom turned towards Mallory. It was then that Mallory took the opportunity to grab a handful of sand and throw it full force into Grissom's face. Caught totally by surprise, Grissom staggered back as the dirt hit his face. He tripped over Scott's sprawled out legs and dropped the gun. His arms instinctively went to his face as he choked on the dirt and tried to get the grit out of his eyes. Mallory was quickly up on his feet. He picked up the Glock and took two steps to where Grissom had fallen, pulled him up by the hair, and swung the gun back, hitting Grissom full force in the face breaking his right cheekbone and deepening the gash he had given him earlier. When Grissom fell back with a heavy thud, Mallory tucked the Glock into his waistband..
"You son of a bitch…what were you thinking?" screamed Mallory at the man sprawled on his back. Mallory angrily kicked the down man again and again with rage. Out of breath, he stared at Grissom with contempt but then his attention was diverted.
Choking and coughing from the sand in his face, Grissom was caught totally by surprise. He felt himself falling on his back as he tripped over Scott's legs. Suddenly, he was pulled up by his hair and felt the stinging impact of the Glock as it hit his face. White stars shot across his vision when he felt his right cheekbone crunch from the force of the hit. He heard Mallory yelling but it seemed as if it were from a great distance. Struggling to clear his head and gain some equilibrium, Grissom tried to roll over and get up, but a thundering blow to his broken ribs sent him facedown in the sand, taking his breath away. The kicks continued and Grissom curled into a ball to protect the broken ribs from any further damage. His whole body felt as though it were on fire. He wrapped his arms around his body so that they would take the brunt of the punishment.
Just as suddenly as the kicking started, it stopped. Mallory's ragged breathing echoed loudly in his ears, and then he heard it, the safety being released off a Glock. Grissom took as deep a breath his damaged ribs would allow and opened his eyes. He slowly raised himself up.
He was slowly regaining consciousness. The groaning and the sounds of a boot striking flesh reached his ears and penetrated the haziness that was clouding his mind. He shook his head to clear it, and realization struck him that Grissom was no longer attached to his arm. Scott's eyes shot open to see Mallory, in a rage, kicking his father who was curled up on the ground near his feet. Scott reached under his shirt and pulled out the Glock and slipped off the safety. Holding the gun in both hands he aimed the gun at Mallory.
Mallory stood stock still when he heard the cocking of the weapon. Grissom's son had regained consciousness and was now pointing a gun at him. Mallory cocked his head, and eyed the young man critically.
"Step away from him Mallory," Scott said hoarsely, not daring to take his eyes off the man. Scott braced his back against the rock he was sitting against and slowly edged himself to a standing position. He heard running feet behind him in the distance and turned his head, his attention briefly diverted.
Mallory took the opportunity to pull the gun from his waistband and fired it at Scott. The impact of the bullet sent Scott crashing backward in the rock. Scott's eyes widened with shock as he looked down to see the flow of blood spreading down the left part of his chest. He slid down the rock as a trickle of blood slid from the corner of his lips. He slowly closed his eyes as he let the pain take him under.
Grissom watched in horror as the scene played out before him. Everything seemed to be running in slow motion and as Scott turned his head to see what was approaching from behind, Grissom looked up to see Mallory pull out the Glock.
"No!" screamed Grissom as he struggled to his feet. He launched himself awkwardly at Mallory. Grissom was just able to change the trajectory of the bullet but not enough for it to miss his son. He crashed into Mallory, sending them both crashing to the ground. The gun fired again as both men struggled for control of the weapon. The bullet ripped into Grissom, but he didn't feel the bullet enter his abdomen. Despite his injuries, raging anger and fear for his son fueled Grissom. Mallory lost his grip on the gun as Grissom continued to swing away. Grissom felt no pain as he pummeled the man under him with his fists. Mallory could not stop the fury and rage that was now Gil Grissom.
Though Grissom was running on pure rage, the bullet wound quickly took its toll. Grissom felt his energy starting wane and fresh waves of pain was starting anew. The burst of adrenalin that had fueled his outburst had run its course. Panting in deep gulps of air, ignoring the searing pain it took to breathe, Grissom reached for the Glock that Mallory had dropped and staggered to his feet. He swayed dizzily as he pointed the weapon at Mallory's head.
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Brass and company stopped momentarily as they watched the helicopter take off. The police detective waved the law enforcement officers on. Time was of the essence. They did not know if Mallory was truly neutralized and what condition Grissom and his son were in. They would have to assess the situation instantly. The sound of a gun being fired halted Brass in his tracks. Both he and Warrick exchanged looks and took off running towards the sound of the gunfire. A minute later, they heard another shot. The dust was settling and, from the distance they were at, Brass and Warrick could see a lone ghostly figure swaying in the haze. Brass couldn't tell for sure who it was that was standing, but he was sure that the man standing there was holding a gun in his hand, aiming it low.
By the time the law enforcement officers approached the area where Grissom was standing, the blowing sand had pretty much cleared. Brass held up his hand, stopping the officers from approaching nearer to the scene. Holding his weapon in both hands low and pointed downwards, he slowly approached the swaying man. Brass stepped carefully around the boulders and noted the still form of Scott Grissom lying up against the side of a large stone bleeding profusely from a wound high in the left quadrant of his torso. He crouched down to check for a pulse and found that Scott's pulse was weak and rapid.
Glancing up, the homicide detective noted the wild look in Grissom's eyes as he pointed the gun at Mallory who lay on his back on the ground. Mallory had taken a hell of a beating from Grissom, which was something just short of a miracle when one considered the condition Grissom was in. Grissom's denim shirt was ripped in several places and was drenched in blood from a wound in his abdomen. He had obviously taken a beating from Mallory as there were deep bruises covering his face and his right eye was nearly swollen shut. The man was swaying and trembling. Brass had never seen such a faraway glazed look in Grissom's eyes before. Mallory was softly pleading with Grissom but the man wasn't listening as he cocked the weapon.
"Grissom, please, don't…I…was going to let you and Scott go. Brass, it's his fault. He tried to kill me…Grissom, please don't shoot," begged Mallory as he lay on his back with his hands in front of him in surrender. Looking towards Scott, Mallory noticed Brass's arrival to the scene.
Looking at Brass, Mallory turned his plea to the police captain, "Brass, you can't let him kill me. I'm unarmed…It'd be murder….you can't let him. Brass, he'll listen to you, please…"
Jim Brass looked at the man on the ground with distaste, but as much as he would have liked to blow a hole through Mallory's head himself, he couldn't let Grissom pull that trigger.
"Mallory, there isn't anything I would rather see than to see Gil Grissom kill your sorry ass, but as his friend, I can't let him do it because, unlike you, he would feel remorse later on for shooting an unarmed man," said Brass in a quiet voice.
"Gil…hey, Gil…it's me, Jim," Brass said a little louder, trying to break the trance that Grissom was in.
Brass slid his weapon into his holster, and waved for Warrick to come forward. Keeping an eye on his friend, the police captain whispered softly to the senior CSI, "Get both those S and R helicopters back here, asap. Have them land near where Sara and Catherine are. Also, I want Sara here."
"But, Brass, she…" Warrick started to say.
"Rick, if she has to be carried, then bring here. No arguments. She'll be the only one Gil will listen to right now. Now go…and get Jones here too," said Brass urgently. Warrick nodded and backed away. He hurried off to get in contact with Catherine.
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From her position, Catherine could see that Grissom was standing and holding someone at bay with a gun. Through her binoculars, Catherine observed that Grissom had been beaten further and from the condition of the shirt he was wearing, he bleeding from a wound around his abdomen. She debated whether to tell Sara about Grissom's condition but opted to tell her that he was at least standing up right. They had heard the shots and were waiting for one of the guys to report back to them. Catherine was nervously pacing back and forth, wanting to venture to where Grissom was standing.
As the dust cleared, Catherine noticed Brass and the rest of the team approaching the area. Seeing Brass signal for the rest of the men to halt as he ventured forth, she watched as Brass waved Warrick forward and spoke briefly to him. Grissom was still standing transfixed with the loaded weapon. Warrick retreated from the immediate area, and it was then that her cell chirped.
"Rick, what's…" asked Catherine anxiously, ignoring protocol.
"Cath, Brass wants Sara up here right away. Have Greg and Jones carry her if necessary. I know that she is in no condition to walk up here, but Brass thinks that she'll be the only one who will be able to reach Griss. Besides, I don't think you'll be able to keep her away. He's pretty messed up. Scott is down. Gunshot wound to the left chest. Get Jones up here, too," Warrick said quickly.
"Right. From what I can see, it's a miracle that he's standing," Catherine replied softly. Briskly, she continued, "We're on it. We'll get her up there."
Catherine looked over her shoulder to see Sara staring intently at her. "Catherine? What's going on? Is it Grissom?" asked Sara anxiously. She was resting in the shade and was under strict orders from Catherine that she was to remain in the shade resting until the situation was resolved. Sara had only acquiesced if, and only if, Catherine kept her informed of what was going on in detail.
Catherine walked over quickly to Sara and crouched down to talk to her. "Sara, according to Rick, Gil is in bad shape. Jim thinks…, Catherine licked her lips and continued, "Jim thinks that you are the only one who'll be able to reach him. Scott's been shot."
Sara's eyes widened at the news, and she immediately started to get up quickly, only to be gently held down by Catherine.
"Sara, you're in condition to be running out there. I'm going to have Greg and Jones carry you out there on a backboard. We've got to do this quickly."
Catherine swiftly signaled to both Greg and Jones and told them what was going down. With the help of Paul, the EMT, they placed Sara on the backboard, along with Paul's medical kit from the helicopter. Once Sara and the medical kit were secured on the backboard, Greg and Jones took off to where Brass was standing vigil over Grissom.
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"Gil…hey, Gil…It's me, Jim. Hey buddy," Brass spoke softly to Grissom.
Grissom muttered softly to himself as he slowly paced back and forth in front of Mallory, all the while pointing the gun at the man. He was waging a battle within himself on what to do. He berated himself for failing to protect the ones he loved. Scott…my son…Rachel…dead because of me. Couldn't protect Sara…all gone. I have nothing left…I couldn't protect any of them. I let them down. His world was swirling around him images from the past and present appearing before him.
Grissom stopped his pacing and looked up. His muttering slowed, and he stared at Brass as if he were a ghost. "Why are you here?" Grissom whispered softly. "Are you here to blame me for all this?" He waved his arm around and then fired the weapon in the air. Brass flinched at the firing of the weapon, and edged closer to Grissom.
"Gil…no, we're just here to help you. I just need you to put that gun down, okay? We need to help Scott," said Brass softly as he took a step closer to Scott and crouched down to check his pulse again. The young man was still breathing, but it was becoming labored.
Grissom's attention turned to Scott's still form, and he tried to focus on his son. "Get away from him. Don't touch him," growled Grissom suddenly, his demeanor totally changing. Stepping away from Mallory, Grissom moved closer to his son. Brass stood up slowly and backed away from Scott as Grissom came nearer, wanting to give the confused man all the space he needed.
As he stared down at his unconscious son, Grissom felt dizziness and nausea sweep over him. Suddenly his legs no longer had the strength to hold him up and Grissom sank to his knees. His right hand trembled as it held the Glock. Grissom shifted his eyes between Mallory and Scott.
"Gil…we need to get Scott some help…you gotta put the gun down," pleaded Brass softly.
"No, stay away from him. He's my son. I have to take care of him," Grissom whispered hoarsely, a strange glint in his eyes. "He's all I have left."
"No, Gilbert. He's not. I'm here now, and I'm not leaving," said Sara, her voice cracking with emotion. His haggard appearance tugged at her heart, and it was all she could do to not rush to him.
Sara's voice entered his consciousness. His eyes widened and he turned his head to see Sara taking a tentative step towards him. Behind her, a few yards away Greg and Jones stood silently with the backboard still in their hands.
"Sara," croaked Grissom, then he shook his head. "This is a trick. You're trying to trick me again," Grissom said to Mallory as he pointed the gun at the man still lying on the ground.
A frightened Mallory held his hands up and tried to scoot farther away from the distraught man with the gun. Grissom cocked the trigger and with a shaky hand took aim at Mallory.
"Gil...it's not a trick. Look at me. Gil, look at me. I'm not a ghost. I'm real."
Sara continued, "Jim's here. He's here to take of Mallory. He's not going to hurt you or Scott any more."
Sara took a deep breath. The wound in her side pulled with each breath that she took but she pushed the pain away as she focused on the bewildered man before her.
"Grissom, please, put the gun down. Jones is here. He can take care of Scott. You know he will. He helped me. He'll help Scott. Grissom, I promise, it's okay," Sara pleaded as the words tumbled out of her mouth, trying everything she could think of to reach Grissom's confused mind.
Grissom looked past Mallory and stared up at Sara. His eyes focused slightly and he tilted his head back slightly. Her quiet determined voice seeped through the haze, and he looked at her long and hard as if seeing her there for the first time. Nodding his head slowly, Grissom scanned the area around him and returned his gaze back to Sara. Letting out a deep sigh, he raised the gun so that it was at eye level and then watched it fall to ground.
As soon as the gun dropped to the ground, Brass immediately signaled for Jones and the EMT's to administer to Scott. Brass moved swiftly past the kneeling Grissom and picked up the dropped gun and then turned to Mallory. Two of the deputies moved past Brass and quickly had Mallory on his feet and took the man away in cuffs.
Sara rushed forward as quickly as her wound would allow her and dropped to her knees in front of Grissom. The injured man never took his eyes off of her and he tentatively reached out with his right hand to touch her, afraid that when he made contact, she would disappear. His bruised right hand caressed her face as she reached up to grasp his hand.
Grissom could finally let his guard down. His lips curled into a slight smile, and he let out a soft sigh. "Sara," he whispered.
Gentle hands were laid on his shoulders and Grissom allowed himself to be eased down onto the ground. He continued to keep his eyes on Sara, but she seemed to be growing hazy. Grissom fought to stay focused on her but his vision was fading. The pain he was somehow able to keep at bay now broke through full force. He arched his back and clenched his teeth as the tremors started creeping back. Grissom heard faraway voices urgently calling out directions. He was losing his battle to stay conscious and finally gave in to the blackness that was calling him.
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A/N: Not exactly a cliffhanger but there are still things to be resolved. Thanks for waiting so patiently as work has piled up this week plus a hubby who had surgery for cancer (but the prognosis is good). I think one or two more chapters to wrap up and an epilogue. Please let me know how this chapter flowed as I hoped that it wasn't too anti-climatic.