Journey Through the Past- Chapter 46

A/N: My sincere apologies for the extremely long delay in posting this final chapter. RL certainly got in the way. After having written most of chapter 46, I realized I hated it and started the whole darn thing over. I hope this version will do. Since you don't have the original version, you'll have to trust me since I totally deleted it off my hard drive. It turned out a lot longer than I expected but I hope that you enjoy it anyway. I tend to get long-winded (sorry about that)..

A big thank you for Moonstarer for the encouragement on this last chapter. And a big thank you to all of you who have patiently hung in there with me. The epilogue is still left, but I can't promise when that will get done.

Brass pulled the Taurus off onto the dirt road and was immediately on the radio to the law enforcement unit behind him. Greg Sanders, in the meantime, was on his cell to Catherine.

"Hey Catherine. How far out of Beatty are you? We're at the turn off to the clinic. Brass is waiting for SWAT to arrive, and then we're headed in."

Jim Brass signaled to Greg that he should get out of the car and follow him back to the trunk. Greg nodded and then signed off from Catherine.

"Catherine and Vartann are north of Beatty and should be here in about 30 minutes."

Handing him a flak jacket from the trunk, the police detective gave the young investigator a stern eye.

"Well, we're not waiting for them to catch up. Greg, get this on. When we get there, you're to stay behind me and do exactly what I say. You are carrying aren't you?"

Greg nodded that he understood on both accounts. He pulled out his department-issued 9mm. Berretta and made sure that it was loaded and then returned the weapon to its holster.

Just then, the SWAT unit pulled up next to the Taurus and four officers emerged from the vehicle. Sheriff Taylor then arrived with two deputies. Brass debriefed both teams on the operation.

"Okay gentlemen. We're going in using night vision goggles and infrared. No lights from this point on- we don't want to tip Mallory off. We're not sure what he's after or why he has decided to return to the clinic. He has a hostage with him. At this point, we know that the victim, Dr. Gil Grissom from the Vegas Crime Lab, is injured, but we're not sure exactly what his current condition is. Gentlemen, we are not, I repeat, not going in with guns blazing. Please use extreme caution."

The men surrounding Brass all nodded, and Brass continued. "Sheriff Taylor and his deputies will secure the front of the clinic. The rest of you will follow me to the rear of the clinic where the garden and cemetery are located. Remember gentlemen, no lights and use extreme caution. We'll be leaving our vehicles about a quarter mile from the facility and going in on foot."

*******************************

"Catherine, we're about a quarter-mile from the clinic, and we're leaving the vehicles to the side of the road. Remember no lights on after you turn onto Dry Canyon Road. Unless you hear otherwise, you and Vartann's team need to come in on foot. If you haven't heard from us, you'll know the situation is still unresolved and fluid. Scott and Jones will need to stay with the vehicles until we know the entire perimeter is secured," said Brass into his cell phone.

Catherine digested all that Brass had said and acknowledged that she understood. Turning around in her seat, she addressed both Scott and Sara.

"We're coming up to Dry Canyon Road in about fifteen minutes. Once we get there, our headlights will be cut so that we can't be observed going in. We're to stay with the law enforcement vehicles until the scene is secured and all is clear. You both understand?" said Catherine authoritatively.

"What if Grissom should need medical attention? He is sure to be experiencing a tremendous amount of pain and he's due for his meds," asked Scott with concern.

"Our main job is to capture Mallory and make sure that no one else gets hurt. Gil will know that. As a member of law enforcement, he knows the risks," said Catherine grimly. Then she added, "Don't worry. Brass won't be taking any unnecessary chances. He will do everything he can to make sure that your father gets the medical care he needs."

Sara reached over and gently touched Scott on the shoulder. "It's going to be okay," she tried to reassure him even though she had her own doubts. Sara was itching to race to the clinic on all cylinders. However, she had been in law enforcement long enough to realize that she needed to let the officers do their jobs. Sara's touch did little to calm the young man down. He was going to the clinic, one way or another.

****************************

Mallory had not seen any way out of their predicament when Manny had ordered both syringes in his pocket be administered to Grissom. Mallory had reluctantly taken one of the syringes out of his shirt pocket. Grissom was trembling violently by then, and was clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to control the shaking of his hands. His futile attempt to stand up failed miserably as he collapsed back onto the bench. Grissom gasped for breath and as he looked up at Mallory, their eyes met for briefly.

"Grissom, seriously, I didn't want it to end this way. I had plans for us, you know, but, then again, this will work too," said Mallory softly.

Grissom barely acknowledged him as he retreated into himself to gain some control over his shaking body. He watched Mallory approach with the syringe in this hand, but it was as if he were watching someone else being injected as he followed the needle being inserted into his arm. The sharp stinging prick of the needle was enough to bring him out of his stupor. Grissom jerked up his casted left arm, causing Mallory's head to snap back from the force of the arm striking the side of this head. Mallory took an involuntary step back and fell on top of Manny as the young man was climbing out of the pit. The gun that Manny held flew from his hand and landed near Grissom's feet.

Grissom stared stupidly at the needle protruding from his right arm before clumsily yanking it out with his left hand. He had only received a partial dose, but he felt the burning sensation of the drug as it raced up his arm. The shaking and trembling of his left hand caused the needle to break off the syringe as Grissom viciously flung the needle away. He felt the trembling start to recede as he spied the gun that had flown from Manny's hand. Falling to his knees, Grissom reached for the gun that had landed near his feet. Though the gun was near him, it seemed to Grissom that he was reaching across a yawning distance for the weapon. Everything had slowed down to half speed, and there was a roaring in his ears. Trying to hang on to reality, Grissom swallowed hard and focused his efforts to reach the gun.

Meanwhile, having quickly recovered from his unexpected fall on top of Manny, Mallory swung his fists and pummeled the young man. Taken completely by surprise, Manny could only hold up his hands in front of him to ward off Mallory's blows. The slight advantage that Mallory had was short-lived as Manny was much younger and stronger. Grabbing one of Mallory's flailing fists, Manny pulled the man forward and over the top of him. Now he was on top and had the advantage. Grabbing the shovel, Manny lifted it over his head and just when he was about to strike Mallory, Grissom, having managed to grab hold of the gun, fired the weapon, striking the young man's upper part of his right shoulder.

Manny stumbled backwards a step as the shovel slipped from his fingers. Shock and surprise flashed across his face as he looked at Grissom and then down to see blood spreading down the front of his shirt. Manny gasped from the pain and fell to his knees. Mallory scrambled quickly out of the way and out of the pit. Panting and aching from his fight with Manny, Mallory rolled to his knees and stared at Grissom.

Grissom slowly lowered the gun and stared at the young man he had just shot. He had fired purely from instinct as his training kicked in. The drug was starting work its way through his system, and Grissom could feel its affects as the urgency and panic that were overwhelming him slowly start to ebb away and a tranquil peace gradually settled in.

"Couldn't you just have waited?" whispered Grissom tonelessly as he continued to stare at Manny with haunted eyes.

Mallory slowly stood up, careful to stay out of Grissom's line of vision.

"Grissom, you didn't have a choice. He was going to kill me," said Mallory in a quiet voice. As he deliberately stepped closer to Grissom, Mallory kept a close eye on the man. He would have to act quickly since he didn't know how soon the authorities would arrive.

Reaching swiftly down, he seized Grissom's right hand that held the gun and tried to wrestle the gun out of his hand. Startled out of his stupor, the senior CSI tightened his grip on the weapon and tried to push Mallory away with his left arm. The 9 mm Berretta discharged as the two men struggled. Both men stopped fighting as the kickback of the gun hit both of them simultaneously. Mallory released Grissom and pushed himself away, holding on tightly to the gun he had managed to wrestle away. A dull roar filled Grissom's head and white stars flashed before his eyes as Grissom fell back, smacking his head on the stone bench with a sickening thud.

********************************************

Captain Jim Brass waved the two officers forward as he adjusted his night vision goggles. They could see the security lights of the clinic shining brightly against the dark Nevada sky. The law enforcement officers quickly spread out and Brass stopped momentarily as he watched Sheriff Taylor and his two deputies head out towards the front of the clinic. Brass and his team headed east around the back end of the clinic. Both teams made a wide arc to surround the complex. All the men stopped short when they heard the report of a gunshot coming from the clinic. Less than a minute later, a second shot filled the night air.

The SWAT team looked at one another, and Brass immediately signaled the men forward, and, with their weapons out, they negotiated the dark desert landscape in a matter of minutes. Sliding along the back side of the last building towards the gardens, Brass held his Glock in front of him as he poked his head around the corner of the building. Noticing the Missions van parked a few feet away, Brass waved two of his officers to check out the vehicle while he, Greg, and the two other officers made their way towards the graveyard.

As they crept forward, Brass took in the scene before him. The gravesite had obviously been disturbed. A shovel lay near the open pit that was the grave of Rachel Grissom. Cautiously Brass walked to the edge of the pit and saw the wire that Manny had worn on the bottom of the grave.

Greg crouched down, took out his maglite and shined his flashlight into the pit. Scanning the area carefully, the young investigator searched for evidence that would give them a clue to which direction Mallory, Grissom, and Manny could have gone.

"We're still looking for Mallory, and it looks like he might have two hostages. Okay guys. Let's spread out. They couldn't have gotten far."

Greg pointed to the ground around the stone bench. "Looks like there was a struggle here. Two spent bullet casings. Blood drops… and there's blood on the edge of this bench. Brass, do you think that all this blood is Grissom's? There are drag marks going this direction," said Greg as he pointed to the north east.

The police captain examined the footprints, and looked in the direction that Greg had indicated.

"I don't know Greg. I think we should assume some of this blood is Grissom's though. Looks like they took off either towards that building over there or off into that canyon area," said Brass as he adjusted his goggles. "Let's make our way towards that building. Extreme caution, gentlemen."

"Hey Brass!' Greg called as he quickly bagged the bullet casings, "I found something." Pulling a latex glove out of his vest pocket, Greg reached underneath the stone bench and carefully picked up the object as to not disturb any prints. Holding up the object so that Brass could see the used partially filled syringe, the CSI grimly slipped it into an evidence bag. "The needle's been broken off. Apparently, whoever received this injection didn't want it or the needle wouldn't have been broken off."

"I think we can assume that Mallory was trying to inject Gil with this stuff, and he fought back," Brass said softly. "I also think we can assume the needle is probably either still stuck in Grissom or it's around here somewhere. We'll look for it later. At least we know that Gil didn't get the entire dose. Right now, we need to find where Mallory's taken Grissom."

********************************************

With his arm draped around Grissom's shoulders, Manny half-dragged, half-carried the semi-conscious man to the building at the northwest edge of the gardens. Constantly looking over his shoulder to check for signs of pursuit, Mallory followed closely behind the two men. As they reached the building, Mallory headed around the corner and to the door that was facing out towards the desert landscape.

The moon had risen high enough that the side of the building cast light along the side towards the door. As they neared the door, Grissom let out a loud "hmmph" when Manny unceremoniously dumped the man in a heap on the ground. Manny grasped his right shoulder to help deaden the pain from the gunshot wound and leaned heavily against the building.

Testing the door, Mallory wasn't surprised to find that it was locked. Stepping away from the door, he reached into the planter next to the door and felt around for the key he knew to be buried there. After rooting around the soil and small stones, Mallory uncovered his sought-after prize. He quickly unlocked the heavy metal door and swung it open. He pointed the gun at Manny and motioned for the young man to drag Grissom into the building. Grabbing Grissom under his armpits, Manny dragged him in. Making sure that a trail of blood did not give away where they had headed, Mallory scanned the area around the building and scuffed the dirt to cover up the blood. He then slipped inside the building, closed the door, and made sure that he locked it.

Relieved that he had remembered where the key to this building had been hidden, Mallory pocketed the key and allowed himself to slowly relax. Now that he was at least safe from immediate pursuit, pain surged to the forefront of his consciousness. He slumped down against the wall across from Grissom and Manny to take a moment to gather his strength and figure out a strategy.

This building was mainly used for storage, and Jones had let his cousin use the facility to manufacture the drug that now coursed through Grissom's body. The building was a converted army bunker. Its thick concrete walls acted as an insulator from the extreme desert heat and maintained a constant 65 degrees. It had been an ideal place to manufacture the new street drug though Ken Jones knew little of why his cousin needed the space. The irony of using a rehabilitation clinic to manufacture a new generation of street drugs was not lost on Mallory.

Now that he had a minute to relax, fresh anger surged within him. He had been that close to getting away and that annoying little bastard, Manny, had spoiled his getaway. On top of that, Grissom had not given up the gun easily and the result was that when the gun had discharged, the bullet had entered his side and exited out his back. He was still bleeding from the wound and it hurt like hell. Now, he had to figure out another way to get out of the country. He still had the disk and the vials, but no vehicle, no money, and no identification papers. Hearing a faint moan, Mallory was also reminded that he had both an injured Manny Fierro and a drug-dependent Gil Grissom to contend with, but Grissom was his trump card. If worst came to worst, he would use Grissom as a bargaining chip and just kill Manny. The little sycophant deserved to die anyway for trying to play everyone against one another. For right now, he needed Manny to handle Grissom.

Mallory leaned back against the wall. It would take a little while for the authorities to figure out that they had not escaped through the desert so he was confident that he would be able to figure out another way of escape. The wound in his side was still bleeding, and he decided that he needed to bind the wound in order to slow the flow of blood.

"Manny, stay here with Grissom. The police are probably here by now. You're between a hard place and a stone right now. I'm willing to help you and your girlfriend, but in return you've got to help me get away. Grissom is expendable for right now, but I'm saving him in case we need him. Understand?"

Receiving a reluctant nod from the young man, Mallory continued, "Stay here with Grissom. He ain't going anywhere. Just keep an eye on him."

Slowly standing up, Mallory felt a little light-headed as sharp pain sent chills through his body and stole his breath. The building sported no windows, but Mallory was reluctant to switch on the lights in the narrow hallway should any light escape through the bottom of the door. Holding his right hand over the wound, he crept along the wall, feeling his way until he came to the room where he had manufactured and developed the new drug.

Entering the room, Mallory groped along the side of the room until he found the desk and switched on the small desk lamp. Blinking momentarily from the dim light that illuminated the room, Mallory leaned against the desk as the pain in his side intensified. Finding a sheet on the desk, Mallory tore off a long strip of cloth and bound the wound as tightly as he could. Gritting his teeth at the pain, Mallory considered using some of the drug in the syringe still in his shirt pocket to take the edge off. Shaking his head, he resisted the temptation as the drug had been reserved for Grissom, and he wanted to keep his wits about him. However, he thought for a moment about Manny. The young man was in pain and the drug would ease the pain and certainly make him more pliable. He would have to think about that.

Binding the wound seemed to have helped lessen the pain somewhat and Mallory made his way back out to the dim hallway. Having Manny pull Grissom up against the wall, Mallory slapped his face to wake him up.

"Hey, Grissom. Open your eyes. C'mon, we gotta get you into the other room," whispered Mallory urgently.

The drugged man lolled his head towards the speaker and tried to focus his eyes on the face floating before him.

"Wha..?"Grissom slurred, trying to make his way back to reality.

Letting out a disgusted grunt, Mallory yanked Grissom around, and Manny dragged him the short distance to the dimly-lit room. Depositing the half-conscious Grissom on the chair next to the desk, Manny winced from his own wound and collapsed on the floor.

Watching Mallory carefully take the remaining needle from his shirt pocket and lay it on the desk, Manny asked softly, "Hey man. Do…do you think that you can give me somthin' for this pain?"

Mallory turned to look at Manny in the dim light from the desk lamp. Beads of sweat had formed around his face as he held on to this right shoulder. Mallory had little sympathy for the young thug. It was his fault that they were in this mess in the first place.

Looking slyly at the syringe he laid on the table and the metal box he had placed next to it, Mallory contemplated giving Manny a small dose just to keep the young man in line. Shrugging his shoulders, he picked up the needle and crouched over Manny. He quickly injected the needle into the man's arm and depressed the plunger a fraction. Manny's eyes opened wide as he felt the drug burn up his arm and then a slight warming seemed to flow over his body.

Manny visibly relaxed as he felt the pain in his shoulder melt away. "Thanks man," he whispered softly.

"Yeah, sure. Anytime," said Mallory drily. "You stay where you are and keep an eye on Grissom. I'm going to check out the rest of this building."

Mallory was sure that they would be relatively safe as he had made sure that the door was locked. The police would assume that they would not be in this building.

*****************************************

Catherine lifted the hatch of the Denali and handed everyone a flak jacket. Slipping on her jacket, the senior investigator studied the desert nightscape. They could see the lights of the clinic shining in the distance. She watched as Nick and Warrick both checked that their service weapons were both loaded and she then did the same.

"Catherine, I just heard from Brass on my cell. They're searching the grounds. Apparently, Mallory has Grissom and they've disappeared. The deputies and SWAT have spread out and are searching the surrounding desert," Vartann said in a rush as he approached from his own vehicle.

"What does he want us to do? Does he want us to join in the search? We aren't equipped with Night Vision," inquired Catherine.

"You and your team need to stay here. My team and I will work our way to the clinic to make sure that he hasn't slipped out this way towards the main highway. Brass, at this point, doesn't want the extra bodies up there. The situation is too fluid. I'll let you know when it's clear for you and the rest can make it up there," Vartann reported.

"But, we…" protested Catherine.

"No arguments. I don't have the time," said Vartann and turned to join his men.

Catherine threw up her hands in frustration and looked at Sara and the guys.

"Well, I guess that's that," said the exasperated woman.

"We can't just stand here. Grissom needs our help," exclaimed Nick as he angrily paced back and forth.

Warrick nodded his head in agreement and slammed his fist on the roof of the Denali. "This ain't right, man. We need to be up there," spat Warrick.

Sara stared up at the clinic, feeling frustration build up in her. She had to do something. What did Scott say? That he knew the terrain like the back of his hand. She turned to ask Scott about the surrounding desert to find that Grissom's son had disappeared into the desert night.

*********************************

Cautiously Brass rounded the corner of the building near the northeast entrance to the gardens and signaled for the officers behind him to cover him as he scanned the area around the building. They had followed a trail of blood drops from the gravesite to the entrance to the gardens. The trail had ended at the entrance. From there, Mallory could have taken off into the desert or could be hiding among the various buildings at this end of the compound.

Sheriff Taylor and his men were already fanning out in a northeast direction from the clinic. Brass was certain that Mallory could not have gone the opposite direction. Even if he had, he had left Catherine and her team to the southwest corner of the complex. Vartann and his team were making their way towards the clinic from that direction. Brass was confident that their net would close in around him and they would have him in custody soon.

The chirping of his cell had Brass barking into the phone, "Catherine? Is there a reason why you're calling me in the middle of a search and seizure?'

"Uh…yeah, Jim…I just thought that you should know, "Catherine said not sure how to tell Brass.

"Catherine, get on with it. I'm in the middle of something here," Brass said impatiently.

"Okay, um Jim. Sara thinks…I mean…we think that Scott…"

"Out with it, Cath. What about Scott?"

"Scott's disappeared. We think he's headed your way," she blurted out quickly.

Catherine heard Brass mutter an expletive and then asked, acid dripping from his voice, "How long has he been missing?"

"Uh…Jim, we're not sure. I'm sure it has only been a few minutes," said Catherine in a quiet voice.

Brass sighed, "Okay Catherine. We're searching around the buildings. Sheriff Taylor has the northeast perimeter covered. Vartann and his team have just arrived from your direction. Go ahead and bring your team up here since Scott will probably be here soon anyway. I'll chew his ass then."

Catherine turned to her team. "Brass wants us up there to help search for Mallory. Weapons out, everyone. Dr. Jones, you're with me and you need to stick to me like glue. You disappear like Scott, I'll personally hand your head on a plate to Captain Brass," said Catherine giving the good doctor a stern look.

"Understood, Ms. Willows," said a somewhat intimidated Jones. He nervously picked up his medical knowing that he would probably need the medicines it contained.

With a nod of her head, Catherine led her team towards the complex of buildings ahead of them.

*****************************************

Scott stood apart from the team of CSI's, impatient that not more was being done to find Mallory and his father. He couldn't just wait out here in the desert when he knew that he could probably help the law enforcement officers locate all the hiding places that Mallory could be. When he tried earlier to tell them what he knew about the complex, he was brushed off by Vartann and Catherine.

"Wait until we get there," he had been told. Well, now that they were there, they wanted him to wait. He was done being patient.

Slowly backing away from Sara and the others as they listened intently to Catherine's conversation with Vartann, Scott took a few cautious steps backward. With a silent apology to Sara, he slipped quietly into the night and headed towards a shallow wash which would lead him directly to the gardens and out of sight of the searching officers.

It took him only a few minutes to negotiate his way through the wash. Keeping low so that the search teams would not see him even with their night vision goggles, Scott scanned the area east of the gardens. He was pretty sure that Mallory wouldn't have taken Grissom out to the desert. Grissom's son knew that when Brass caught up to him there would be hell to pay. For right now, he wanted to avoid Brass and Vartann as long as he could until he was reasonably sure where Mallory would be hiding.

Emerging from the wash that made a wide arc around the clinic, Scott stealthily made his way to the building where his father was first held in isolation. He crept along the building and peeked around the corner. The building was locked, but Scott, having grown up at the clinic, knew all the tricks to get past the security for each building.

Taking his pocketknife from his jeans pocket, the young man quickly jimmied open the lock and stole inside the deserted building. Making quick work of the rooms, Scott was satisfied that Mallory and/or Grissom were not in this building. The next most likely place had to be the storage building where Mallory had his main lab. Scott walked swiftly through the narrow hallway and carefully cracked open the door. He caught a glimpse of Brass and two officers emerging from behind the next building.

Taking a deep breath, he quietly opened the door and slipped out. He shut the door behind him and turned to face the law enforcement officers making their way towards him. He smiled grimly at the expression on the captain's face. Scott braced himself for the worst as Brass picked up his pace and marched angrily towards the young man.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Grissom's kid or not, this is an official police operation. Scott, you had no business coming up here. The fact that your Grissom's son is the only reason I don't have you cuffed and have your ass hauled off to jail," Brass growled angrily.

Scott straightened up and eyed the veteran police officer defiantly. "No one would listen to me. I'm pretty sure that Mallory didn't go out to the desert. He's here, hiding somewhere."

Brass stiffened and studied the young man standing before him. "Yeah, we've already figured that out. Just how do you know that's he's somewhere around here?"

"Captain Brass, I know this area inside and out. I grew up here remember? Nothing happened here that I didn't know about. Mallory's not a desert rat like I am. He's smart enough to know that he wouldn't survive the desert especially if he has my father with him. I observed him enough to know that he's not the outdoorsy type. He has to be here, hiding until it's safe for him to leave. I wanted to double-check that Mallory wasn't hiding in the isolation cell or temporary lab that my father was held in."

"Yeah, we're just going in to check," said Brass, calming down a little. "So, he's not in there then. Where do you think he is?"

"Since you have all the occupied buildings in lock-down, he wouldn't have gone there. I'm sure that he's in the storage building."

"Scott, we've checked all the buildings and the doors have all been locked down."

"But the storage building isn't on the same system. Since it didn't house any patients; it just has a regular lock on the door, not a deadbolt."

"The door was secure when we checked it, sir. There was no sign that someone jimmied that lock," said the officer standing behind Brass.

"I'm sure that he's in there. I know where Mallory hid a key to that building," said Scott countered quickly.

"Whoa…whoa…wait a minute. Slow down," said Brass just as quickly. He studied the surrounding buildings a moment and returned his gaze to Scott. "How can you be so sure that Mallory is hiding in that building? Why not one of these other buildings?" questioned the detective.

"I didn't always sleep very well at night-so I'd wander the grounds or out in the desert. Mallory did a lot of his stuff at night and in the early morning hours. I was usually awake and nosed around a bit," Scott shrugged. "He and his guards were always doing stuff at night and when my father was brought here, there was a new level of activity. I was curious. The storage building was really the only one he spent a lot of time in."

Brass nodded and then muttered, "A regular chip off the old block, aren't you?'

Scott gave Brass a curious look and then went on, "I think it's likely that they're both in the storage building. I was on my way to see if the key was missing. If it is, I'm pretty sure that that's where Mallory is hiding."

"Mallory used this lab almost exclusively until he brought my father here. Then he spent more time in the other building. There were all kinds of chemicals and lab equipment stored in this building. He'd go in there to retrieve some vials and then go visit my father. I went in there a couple of times on the pretense of getting some cleaning supplies. I remember Mallory going ballistic once because I was in the building and that's when the lock was installed. Mallory had the key hidden in the planter and didn't keep one on his person because he was paranoid that it might be taken away from him so he hid it. Jones is the only other person I know who had a key. I guess it was one of Mallory's quirks. I spied on him a lot and he didn't know that I knew that he had the key in there. I would sneak into the building whenever I thought I wouldn't get caught," Scott said with a shrug and continued, "Mallory wouldn't have access to any other building, and since he used these two buildings almost exclusively. He wouldn't know the floor plans of the other buildings as well. It just makes sense to me that he would hide in one of these two buildings."

"Okay, Scott, you've convinced me. We'll go investigate the building, but, damn it, you're staying behind me and the officers. Is that clear?" said Brass sternly.

Scott quickly nodded, trying to hide the smirk that crept across his face. Brass rolled his eyes and waved the two officers to follow him towards the storage building.

As they cautiously approached the door of the building, with his back against the building and the two officers flanking the other side of the door, Brass tried the door, finding that it, indeed, was locked.

Scott checked the planter a few feet away and dug around in the planter. "Captain Brass, the key isn't in there. Unless my step-father knew about it, I'm sure our Mr. Mallory has it. I'm pretty sure that Mallory is in there with my father. He secured the door so he probably thinks that you won't be checking this building. I'm positive he doesn't know that I know about the hidden key."

Brass turned to the two officers, "Okay Scott. Are there any other entrances to this building that we don't know about? There aren't any windows and this is the only door that I can see…nothing underground that would connect this building to the others or anything like that?"

Scott shook his head, "This is the only way in or out. I can draw you a map of the general layout of the building. We mainly used it for storage, although the building has several rooms that could be used for isolation cells. Mallory used one of the rooms for a lab."

"Okay, the safest way I think we have is to wait outside the door. He can't stay in there forever. It's a waiting game. There's no way in or out except through this door. We'll just be here when he decides to leave."

***********************************************

Cracking his eyes a fraction, Grissom fought his way to consciousness. His head felt like it was filled with cotton and the images in front of him were a blur. A low moan escaped from his lips as he struggled to sit up. Manny's sweaty hand clamped tightly over his mouth, forcing him back against Manny's lean tough body. Trying to break free of the arm restraining him, Grissom panicked and swung his arms and legs out, trying to kick his way free, but the arm held his fast.

Manny grunted softly as he forced his arm across Grissom's throat, effectively cutting off the man's air supply. Grissom's eyes opened wide and he arched his back, trying to break free as he felt himself weaken from the lack of oxygen. Frantically shaking his head back and forth trying to dislodge the hand over his mouth and the arm across his throat, Grissom felt his strength waning and his movements gradually slowed. The dimly-lit room grew even darker as Grissom lost consciousness.

Manny slowly relaxed his arm across Grissom's throat when he felt the man go limp. The wound in his shoulder fired up again from the strain of subduing the unconscious man who now lay at his feet. Manny allowed Grissom to slump against the wall. Grunting with pain, the young man sank down beside Grissom.

"Keep still you fool!" hissed Mallory. "Do you want the police to find us?"

Both men froze as they heard the muffled noise of the police outside the door trying the lock. Mallory slowly relaxed as he heard the footsteps start to recede and an uneasy silence settled over the room. Moving closer to where Grissom lay unconscious on the floor, Mallory pressed his fingers to the side of Grissom's neck and felt for a pulse. It was there, very rapid, but strong. Squatting back on his haunches, the escaped convict let out a sigh. They were safe from the hunters for now, but for how long, Mallory couldn't hazard a guess.

*****************************

It took only a few minutes for Catherine, Nick, and Warrick to enter to outskirts of the compound. They met up with Vartann who indicated to them that the buildings to the west had been secured and that there was no sign of Mallory or Grissom. They would make their way towards the eastern side of the complex where Brass and his team were continuing to search.

Spying Brass and the officers round the corner of the east building, Catherine and company picked up their pace and trotted over to Brass. The senior CSI spied Scott standing next to Brass as they conferred with the other two officers.

As Sara approached the gathering with the rest of the CSI's, she took note of the faraway look in Scott's eyes. She was familiar with that look as the young man was trying to recall details from a forgotten memory. How many times had she seen that same look come over Gil Grissom's face when was trying to remember some forgotten detail or obscure fact? Apparently that look was familiar to the rest of the team as they all quiet stood near Scott, letting him think out loud what he could remember.

Sara crossed her arms trying not to let her frustration show. She understood the need to be patient, but only God knew when Mallory would deem it to be safe physical injuries were healing, his emotional and mental states were at the mercy of a madman. She took a step away from the group listening to Brass explain the waiting game that was being played out.

Brass glanced through the crowd and noticed Sara's darkening mood. He gave last minute instructions for the law enforcement personnel and then made his way over to Sara.

Gently laying a hand on her shoulder, Brass made direct eye contact with the young brunette. "Hey, you doing okay, kiddo?"

Sara continued to cross her arms and looked away from Brass with her eyes glistening and a trembling frown on her face. Turning back to the police captain, she gave him a half-smile and shook her head slightly, "Um…yeah, I'm okay. It's just that this…this…whole thing…I'd just like him to catch a break, y'know?"

"Yeah, I understand, Sara. The break's coming. Believe me. We'll do everything to get Gil out of there safely," he said as he tried to reassure her.

The young woman nodded her head and gave Brass a wan smile. She knew that the police captain would do everything in his power to ensure Grissom's safety. She just wasn't sure it was enough.

****************************

Lucas Mallory opened the metal box and picked up one of the vials and quickly filled the partially filled syringe. Manny watched him, licking his lips. The stuff Mallory had given him was smooth and he wanted more of it. The pain in his shoulder was practically nonexistent after Mallory had given him some of that stuff. He hadn't given him very much, but it was enough for Manny to appreciate the potency of the drug. Manny watched Mallory as he squatted next to the unconscious Grissom. He straightened Grissom's right arm and gave him the injection. Grissom arched his back slightly from the sting of the needle and his eyes fluttered open.

Gil Grissom laid stock still on the earthen floor, staring at the dimness of the room. A face swam in and out of focus in front of him. Lucas Mallory! Another injection…God…I can feel it burning through me. God help me to hold on. Can't move my arms and legs. My body is made of stone. Dead weight. Got to stay awake. Where is this place? What is happening to me? Grissom tried not to panic as he lay still watching helplessly as the two men hovered above him. He decided to close his eyes and concentrated on listening to what was going on around him. Voices! I hear voices, but are they real or am I hallucinating? What are they saying? Can't understand…Grissom tried to decipher the words being said but they were little more than murmurings. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes and hoping that by being able to see around him he might make sense of the voices.

Grissom gasped at what he was seeing. Rachel! You're alive. You're here. Looking past her, he saw Sara standing close behind her. Both women were smiling at him, holding their hands out to him. As he looked closer at Rachel, she was holding an object out to him, a baby, their baby. Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Greg, and Brass were smiling and murmuring his name. The bewildered man smiled back and lifted his hands to touch the people he loved. He remembered them all and welcomed their presence.

Mallory observed Grissom in the shadowed dimness of the room. His eyes were open wide and he was smiling and whispering softly to himself.

"Whatever trip he's on, he's not going to want to come back," observed Manny. "That must be some mighty fine stuff."

Mallory nodded in agreement, "Yeah, this can give some pretty sweet dreams. Grissom will be happy for a while, but he'll crash hard in a little while. The high doesn't last long and as one uses more of the drug, the highs get shorter and the crashes come harder. This one won't last long and he'll be almost suicidal before it's over. Most of the time, the trips are sweet. Grissom has had some pretty rough trips. When I first gave him the stuff, he had one trip in which I thought that he would literally tear his himself apart. He hasn't had one as bad as that. This stuff can be pretty nasty, and there's no way to predict whether the trip will be good or bad."

Grissom's eyes were open wide, but the vision that appeared before him resembled little of reality. Though the room was dimly lit, in Grissom's eyes the room was so bright, it hurt his eyes. He felt warm and safe as the people he loved throughout his life was gathered around him. His arms reached out and he embraced his mother, Rachel, Scott, and Sara. His team was there and they were smiling and laughing at some private joke. Grissom laughed along with them unsure of what he was laughing at but comfortable in the companionship.

Mallory and Manny watched in fascination as Grissom embraced the imaginary people that only he could see, smiling and chuckling to himself. The drugged man continued his hallucinations for a little more than an hour and then his eyes half-closed as the drug started to wear off. His movements slowed and his limbs started to tremble.

"Hey, man, I think he's comin' down. He's not lookin' so good now," said Manny in a low voice.

"Good. Right on schedule. His trips when I had him here before would last for hours but as his body built up tolerance for the drug, his trips got shorter. He's due for a steep fall," Mallory said with a smile. "He'll be begging for me to help him, you'll see."

In Grissom's eyes, the room was growing darker as the people he loved started to fade and dissipate into swirling wisps of mist. His mind told him that everything that he was experiencing had been a hallucination and dark clouds of depression descended rapidly upon him. He lifted up his right hand and tried to grasp Sara and Rachel but they both faded away just out of his reach. A groan of despair escaped from his cracked lips as he was left alone once again in pain and withdrawal.

As Grissom lifted his eyes to scan the darkly lit room, other figures emerged from the shadows. He shook his head as Mallory approached him, and Grissom stared at him with wild eyes. Suddenly the room seemed crowded with people, all pressing in closer to him, making him claustrophobic. Grissom started pulling in great gulps of breath, trying to get a handle of the overwhelming crush of humanity converging upon him, but this time the people appearing before him were not people he loved but those of victims of cases that he had not been able to solve. Mixed in among them were those people whom he had helped convict and sentence to prison.

The victims from unsolved crimes pointed accusing fingers at him and a high-pitched whine echoed out of their sneering lips. Grissom pressed his back hard against the cold concrete wall as if he could melt into the cement to get away from the apparitions pressing in upon him. A remote part of his brain told him that everything he was experiencing was his mind playing tricks on him. However, his senses were on overload and Grissom could not discern what was real and what was not and stared with huge eyes at his arms where the icy claws of men he had helped bring convictions and send to prison scratched and pulled at him. He tried to pull away in vain but the rough hands continued to reach for him. Panic filled the distraught man and he clawed at his arms to remove the sharp talons digging into his skin.

Mallory grinned at the sight of Grissom scratching desperately at his arms, leaving bloody claw marks on his right arm. His right hand and fingers were swollen and raw from clawing and tearing at the cast that enclosed his left wrist. Whatever unseen monsters Grissom was seeing were clearly terrifying him and he was desperately trying to ward them off. Cries of anguish escaped from Grissom's lips as he sought to escape the demons that were tormenting him.

"Manny, we need to cut that cast off Grissom's wrist," Mallory said after watching the tortured man writhe on the floor.

"What for? It's not like he's going anywhere in that condition," commented Manny, clearly disturbed by what he was seeing.

"He'll be easier to control if we can get him into a straitjacket. As it is, we won't be able to get him into one if he has the cast on his arm," explained Mallory patiently.

"Okay, I guess I can see that, but how the hell are we going to hold him down long enough to cut through that cast?"

"Just hold him down and I'll deal with the cast. I have a blade in the desk that I can saw through that cast. It should be fairly easy to cut through."

Manny warily approached Grissom writhing on the floor against the wall. His unfocused eyes had a wild panicked look to them and Manny wasn't sure how to best subdue him since his own injury was sapping his strength. Taking a deep breath, the young gang member, swiftly pounced on the trembling man and attempted to twist Grissom's left arm behind his back while forcing the man facedown on the ground. However, Grissom apparently had other plans.

As far as Grissom was concerned, there was the crush of a screaming manic mob on top of him, all intent on tearing him to pieces. He fought desperately against the hands that were attempting to take him down. Manny was fighting a losing battle. He was fighting a man who thought he was fighting all the demons of his past. Grissom, despite his injuries, had Manny down on his back within a matter of seconds. He clawed at Manny's eyes, letting out cries of desperation. Grissom felt no pain from his injuries, just the overwhelming panic and hysteria. The adrenaline coursing through his veins gave him such super-human strength so that the young thug did not stand a chance.

Mallory had turned his back to Manny was busy preparing Grissom's last and final dose. He turned around and was temporarily frozen at watching the frenzied action before him. Manny's pain-filled cries snapped Mallory out of his stupor and he jumped in, trying to pull Grissom off the hapless Manny. Grissom turned his frenzied attention to Mallory, swinging his arms wildly. Crawling after Mallory, grabbing at the man's legs, Grissom was growling with anger. Frightened by the mad look in Grissom's eyes, Mallory took two quick steps back away from him.

As far as Mallory could see, nothing was going to slow Grissom down as the man was totally out of control. They had to get him into a straitjacket if they were to have any chance of getting past the law enforcement officers he was sure was waiting outside for them. Right now, though, he had to find a way to slow the crazed man down. Taking out one of the guns he had in his waistband, he swung the gun up and pointed it at Grissom.

Hoping to slow him down, Mallory waved the gun in front of Grissom and demanded, "Grissom, not another step or I'll shoot!"

Grissom staggered to his feet and took a few shambling steps forward. His unfocused eyes darted wildly around Mallory, still seeing maddening forms reaching for him. Grissom dimly heard Mallory's voice telling him to stop but his unseeing eyes never saw the gun pointed at him. Instead he saw Sara and Scott held captive by the apparitions surrounding Mallory. Roaring with rage, Grissom charged Mallory with all the pent up fury within him.

An enraged, totally out of control Grissom was the last thing that Mallory expected. Always before, he had been able to subdue the man, but this raging madman was not the Grissom he had come to expect. Mallory realized too late that he had pushed the man way over the edge and the man charging him was beyond comprehension. Grissom was on top of him before he could react, and the gun discharged as Grissom crashed into him.

******************************************

It had been approximately two hours since the police had invaded the clinic and thoroughly searched the surrounding desert and clinic buildings save the windowless concrete bunker-storage building. Brass had his men stationed at and near the only entrance to the building. The men had their weapons out and were ready for a violent confrontation with at least one hostage involved. They were briefed on what to expect and were under orders that in no way would Mallory be allowed to escape.

Sara paced the outskirts of the west side of the compound. Brass had insisted that she and Scott be detained in away from the building in case things got out of hand. Both of them had protested loudly and angrily, but Brass had prevailed. He had threatened them with having them being escorted back to Goldfield if they didn't comply with his orders.

Catherine, Nick, and Greg had been ordered to stay with both Scott and Sara, not to stay out of the way, but to make sure that the slim impatient brunette and the younger Grissom stayed put. Scott stood defiantly, staring in the direction of the storage building. The night sky was starting to fade to the early light of a new day. The cool of the morning would soon give way to the vast heat of the desert. It would make sense for Mallory to wait for nightfall to come again before making his escape, but, as the law enforcement officers were finding out, the man did not always make the logical or practical decisions. He was hard to predict, but Scott figured that Mallory would want to try an escape before the desert heat became a blazing inferno.

Catherine gently laid a hand on Sara's arm and tried to her.

"Sara, it'll be over soon. Grissom is Mallory's ticket out of here. He'll…." Catherine's words were interrupted by the muffled sound of a gun being shot. A moment later, two more muffled shots were heard. Blood drained from Sara's face as she turned to make her way to the building. Warrick reached out and grabbed her arm.

"No, Sara, not until Brass gives the okay," said Warrick calmly. "Let them do their jobs. There's nothing we can do right now."

Sara gave Warrick a resentful look but nodded her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. Scott stood stock-still; his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Catherine rested a reassuring arm on his shoulder. She could not find the words that would calm the young man down.

The early morning light was gradually chasing the dark night from the sky and cast eerie shadows from the buildings and sparse vegetation in and around the complex. After the reports of the gunshots, dead silence covered the complex like a shroud. The officers had taken cover and had their weapons trained on the only opening to the building.

The silence surrounding the building was finally broken by the sounds of crashing and low moans emanating from behind the closed door. The officers raised their weapons in anticipation of what might come crashing through the doorway.

As the doorknob to the door started to turn, the moans coming from the other side increased and then changed to panicked sobs. The door burst open and a single man staggered through the opening. He held a 9mm Beretta in his hands and pointed it wildly in front of him. His face was bloodied and blood covered his shirt and pants. His eyes bore a wild unfocused look about them.

The dimness of the early morning light made it difficult for Jim Brass to discern whether the disoriented man staggering out of the door was Gil Grissom or Lucas Mallory. The captain felt the tension rise as the officers near him as they waited for the gun-waving man to fire upon them.

Hoping that it was Grissom who was staggering just out the door, Brass called out loudly, "Drop your weapon and no one will get hurt. We just want to help you."

The wild-eyed man waved his gun generally in Brass's direction and cried in a voice Brass didn't recognize as quite human, "Get them off of me. They're eating me alive. Please help me…"

He started to claw at the bloody mess that appeared to be his arms as he sank to his knees. The deputies and officers held their breath as they continued to hold the man in their sights. However, Brass didn't want any mistakes.

"Gentlemen, stay where you are. Let's see if we can disarm him before he hurts anyone. No one is to take any unnecessary risks," ordered Brass in a low voice.

Brass flinched at the gun went off, but apparently the man did not seem to notice that the gun he was holding had just gone off. He continued to rant and wave the gun about. Brass edged closer to get a better a view of the shambling figure just outside the door when a shadow emerged from the recesses of the building. The captain held up his hand high to signal for the officers behind him to hold still. He crept forward closer to see who was emerging from the building right behind the deranged man.

This swaying figure whose hands were clutching the door jamb for balance and support slowly appeared. Brass gave a slight sigh of relief. Though he was covered with blood and was beaten to within an inch of his life, the police detective recognized bloodied figure leaning in the doorway as none other than Gil Grissom.

Grissom staggered through the doorway and lurched toward Mallory who was swaying on his knees. Tackling him from behind, Grissom grappled the man for the gun. The weapon discharged again, and Mallory slowed his motions and loosened his grip on the gun. Grissom rolled off of him and managed to rest on his knees next to him.

Grissom was gasping for breath with both his hands resting on his knees. With the gun in his right hand, Grissom pointed the gun point-blank at his victim.

Brass, relieved to see Grissom alive, called out urgently, "Hey, Gil. It's Jim…Gil, can you hear me? I need you to put the gun down. Gil, you need to put the gun down."

The voices in his head were growing louder, and all Grissom wanted was for the voices to stop and for all the people around him to disappear. With the gun shaking, groans of misery escaped from Grissom's lips. Pain was starting to re-assert itself and waves of nausea were making him dizzy. He lifted his head and blinked to focus his eyes. He heard Brass's voice, but it was as if it was from a distance. Grissom swung his head around to track the voice that intermingled with the ones in his head.

Brass held his breath as Grissom lifted his head upon hearing his voice. The gun was still pointing at who Brass now recognized as Mallory now that the light was better. The police detective did not like the unfocused wildness in his friend's eyes and sought to find the words to bring Grissom back to reality.

"Gil, over here. Yeah, it's me…It's okay now. We're here. Sara and Scott…"

"Sara and Scott…th…they're here? Safe…they're safe?" gasped Grissom as another wave of pain washed over him. "I don't believe you…He…Mallory is trying to trying to trick me. You're not real…just another trick."

Before the officers or Brass could react, Grissom turned his attention to the Mallory lying on the ground and pumped another round into the body. Before he could take another breath, two officers had sprung from their hiding places and had Grissom face down on the ground. Brass rushed over and kicked away the gun that had fallen on the ground.

"Gently boys. Be gentle with him," ordered Brass softly. "Let him rest against the wall over there and check out his injuries. Don't cuff him. Just take care of him, okay?"

The police captain paused as he watched the officers gently move a compliant Grissom to sit against the wall. Brass was immediately on his cell.

"Catherine, get Sara and Scott down here, pronto. Gil's alive, but he's not doing well. Order that ambulance."

Brass took a couple of steps and crouched down next to Mallory.

"He's dead, sir," said the deputy who was checking out the body. "I not the coroner, but he had more than the bullet wound Grissom pumped into him at the end. He sustained one during the struggle and it looks like he had a wound in his side. I noticed a needle mark in his shoulder," continued the deputy as he pointed to the spot.

Brass nodded and stood up. Sheriff Taylor and one of his deputies emerged from the building. "There's another body in there. Looks like all hell broke through in there."

Brass nodded and walked back over to where Grissom was being attended to by two of the SWAT officers. The police captain looked up in time to see Sara burst around the corner with Scott not far behind. She stood for a moment, surveying the area until she saw Grissom with the officers attending to him.

Relief and panic flooded over her as she rushed over to the injured man. Brass was speaking gently to the bewildered man as he was still clearly agitated. It took two of the officers to hold the man down. Despite the pain and his injuries, Grissom was still fighting the demons that only he could see.

Brass moved aside to let Sara in closer to Grissom. She reached forward and gently took his head in both her hands and forced him to face her. She spoke gently to him and the crazed look in his eyes started to fade as her voice penetrated through the voices in his head. His writhing slowed, but he continued to gasp for breath. Gulping great mouthfuls of air, Grissom kept his eyes on Sara as she continued to gently stroke his face, calming the man down.

Sara looked up at the officers holding Grissom down and nodded to them, saying, "It's okay. He'll be okay."

The officers nodded although doubt was still in their eyes. They slowly released their grip on Grissom as they felt the man gradually relax. They took their time standing up and taking a step back.

Sara released Grissom's face and quickly ran her hands over his body, checking for additional injuries. It appeared that he had suffered another gunshot wound and was given at least three shots from the three injection sites she found. He was bleeding from the gunshot wound which was located in his lower right chest area. Numerous contusions and bruises covered his face, arms, and hands.

"Hey, Brass, where are those paramedics? Grissom's fading fast," Sara yelled.

"They're here Sara," Brass said as he pulled her away to allow the paramedics in to do their jobs.

Scott watched intently as the EMT's worked on his father. They quickly assessed his condition and had applied a pressure bandage to the new chest wound. Dr. Ken Jones was brought to Grissom by Detective Vartann.

"What do you say, Doc?" asked Mike Soto, one of the paramedics. "He's in bad shape. I don't think he'll make by ambulance and it'll take too long to get a medivac helicopter here."

Ken Jones sat back on his haunches. "There's an infirmary in the next building. I can get him stabilized until we can get a chopper up here."

"Let's do it then. We don't have time to waste," said Mike.

Grissom was moved quickly onto a stretcher and taken to the clinic's infirmary. Jones and the paramedics worked on stabilizing the man's condition. They were able to slow the bleeding, but Jones was worried about the amount of blood he was losing. Inserting an IV, Jones started a saline solution to replace some of the fluid that Grissom had lost. Checking the man's vitals, Jones was satisfied that Grissom would hold his own until they could airlift him to Desert Palm Hospital.

Meeting Sara and Scott outside the infirmary doors, Jones informed them of Grissom's condition.

"He's stabilized for now. He should be okay to transport as soon as the chopper is here. Sara, Scott, physically, he should recover just fine. He'll have a long road ahead of him as far as the drug dependency goes and the psychological damage my cousin inflicted upon him," said Jones to both of them.

"Well, with Mallory taken care of and the disk that Nick and Warrick found in the storage building, hopefully, you will be able to more effectively treat Gil's addiction. I believe the other problems he'll face will be easier to deal with once he can have some control."

Jones nodded in agreement. Scott glanced at his step-father gratefully and asked quietly, "Can we go in and see him?"

"He won't know that you're there, but sure go ahead," Jones said with a smile.

Sara smiled wanly, the long day finally taking a toll on her. She took Scott's hand and pulled him into the infirmary.

"C'mon Scott. It has been an extraordinarily long day, and both of us need to see that your dad is going to be okay."

Ken Jones watched the two of them disappear into the infirmary and smiled. With the support of his family and friends, Jones was confident that Grissom would recover just fine.