A/N: Hi everyone, thanks for being patient and sorry it has taken me so long to publish this one. You guys have been awesome in your reviews! I find them really encouraging and some of you have even given me some good ideas to add to the story, so don't stop nowJ Please, oh please, oh pleeeease tell me what you think!

Chapter Five

Gil had lost all track of time and location. After riding for what seemed an eternity the van pulled to a stop. He was pulled out of the van by his ankles and brought to stand upright. The lighting behind the blindfold had changed since being brought back into the sunlight but he still could see nothing. The ball gag had made it impossible for him to swallow so his spit turned to drool, which now dribbled down his chin and into his beard. He was led a short distance and into an abandoned warehouse.

It was a small building in comparison to the others in the small, abandoned warehouse district. Each looked as lonely and forgotten as the next, or last depending on how you looked at it. It made the perfect place to hide for few days and in the end dump a body. It was a solo district, away from the city and its only current occupants were rats and bugs. A place where no one could hear you, no matter how loud you screamed.

He was half dragged through the front door of the warehouse, through the larger main area and then down a short hallway until they reached the room of his worst nightmares. Cronk punched him in the stomach, doubling him over, then put Gil's head between his legs effectively holding him in the stooped position. Bonzo unlocked the handcuffs and Cronk pulled off Gil's jacket and shirt in one quick movement. Gil tried to be fast and pulled off the blindfold. He knew he couldn't fight them, but if he could just get a head start out the door then maybe he could get to a phone before they could catch him. He wasn't fast enough. Cronk's large fist caught him in his left eye and he fell backwards, landing hard in the concrete corner. The two cronies pounced like lions coming in for the kill. Gil tried to shield his head and face with his arms as they rained down a torrent of kicks and punches. Their steel toed boots battered his arms and legs as he tried to curl into a tight ball. A steel toe connected with his left knee and he felt a searing pain shoot through his leg as the bone fractured. Three blows to his left side left him gasping for air. After less than a minute that passed like an hour they stopped when the suited man called them off.

"We want him to last a little longer, boys. We're not done with him yet." The well dressed man sneered.

His shoes and socks were pulled off and he was unsteadily hauled to his feet. The two me dragged him over to a heavy, metal chair and dropped him onto it. Bonzo shackled his wrists to the back of the chair then gathered his clothes and shoes. The three men left and locked the door behind them.

Darkness was encroaching on him but he tried to fight it. He tried to push through the fog that was clouding his mind but he knew there was no point in trying. He panted for breath and tried to force himself to calm down. It was getting darker. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. He thought of Sara, his beautiful Sara. He began to worry about what would happen to her if he died. The more he thought about it the more he began to regret his decision. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.

They were there. He thought to himself. They will take of her. Jim will take care of her.

His head dropped as darkness overcame him and he passed out.

As the van made its U turn in the air hanger then drove past Greg. He vaguely registered a clinking sound as something metal hit the concrete in front of him. He watched the van, somehow mesmerized by its appearance, until it disappeared into the distance. When it was no longer visible he snapped out of his dazed state and became aware of his surroundings. He suddenly remembered the sound and looked down at the floor in front of him. There in front of him, in contrast to the dirty cement floor, lay a small, silver key.

He very carefully and slowly turned around, edging all the way and still almost toppling over several times, until finally he was sitting with the key behind him. He picked up the key with his left hand and tried to maneuver it with his fingers. The key dropped to the floor with a clang and Greg cursed out He loud.

"Shit!" He hissed through his clenched teeth.

He groped around on the floor searching for the key. The movement made the pain in his right arm intensify.

"Gotcha!" He said triumphantly as he grasped the key.

This time he pushed through the haze of pain and put his full concentration on his task. After a few more minutes of struggling he heard a click and felt the steel cuff on his right wrist loosen before falling off. He grinned. Pleased with himself he took a minute to rest before pushing himself to his feet. It took all of his concentration and all of his strength but he forced the fingers of his right hand to work the key and unlock the remaining cuff. He knew it wasn't dire to have it removed but he needed to get rid of the feeling of the restraint. The cuffs fell to the floor and he stood still, with his eyes closed, for a few minutes to gather himself.

After he was somewhat recomposed he opened his eyes and looked around. Then he saw something square and black laying on the floor.

A cell phone! He thought excitedly.

His legs ached from kneeling for too long so he took careful, deliberate steps until he loomed over the device.

Please work. He silently begged as he carefully bent down to pick it up. He clutched the phone with his left hand and slowly rose back into his standing position.

He flipped open the phone with his thumb and the screen lit up. He let out the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding and it came out as a loud sigh. He was caught a little off guard by the picture on the screen. A smiling Sara Sidle looked back at him. She looked so happy in the picture that he felt lost in her smile for a moment. He mentally shook himself. He figured it must have been Grissoms phone, but he could ponder that and the picture later. He was surprised to see that the phone was actually picking up a small signal, but his spirits sank a little when he saw that the battery bar was in the red. He quickly searched the directory and immediately found Brass' number and dialed it. It rang twice and was answered.

"Gil?" Jim asked excitedly on the other end of the line.

The words were static coated.

"No it's Greg. They took him and left."

"Oh."

Greg noted a touch of disappointment in the single word but brushed it off. He knew how the older man felt as he would be a little disappointed too if he were in Jim's shoes. The line cut out for a second and came back with more static.

"Where are you, Greg?"

It was becoming increasingly difficult to understand him but Greg had heard his last words and instinctively began looking around the open space.

"I don't know." He paused for a moment. "I think I'm in an old air hanger or something."

"What?" Came a crackled reply.

Then he saw the old, weathered sign over the doorway. It was difficult to make out what it said and he had to squint his eyes to read it.

"Garrison Air Field, Moapa Valley." He blurted out.

Then he realized he didn't hear any static, no crackling noise, nothing. He looked down at the phone. There was no picture of Sara. No lights. The phone had died. He hoped beyond hope that Brass had at least heard some of his location. He eased himself back down onto the floor and slowly lay down. He still clutched the phone in his left hand as though it were a prized possession. Hopefully it had saved his life and whether it did or not he wouldn't let it go. He closed his eyes and if he'd had any conscious thought it would have surprised him how fast he had fallen asleep.

At the lab all they could do was wait. It was well past the end of their shift and on any regular day they would either be at Frank's diner enjoying breakfast or on their way to their homes to get some much needed rest. None of them wanted to go home though. They wanted to be here in case some new lead was found or some new witness stepped forward. They had all talked to Ecklie and told him what had happened. Even now they wracked their brains hoping to remember some small detail that they could have missed. They couldn't, they had told him all that there was to tell.

Ecklie had known that there was no use to order them to go home so he never attempted to. They had reluctantly shuffled off to Gil's office to stay close, but out of the way. Jim and Sara sat side by side on the sofa. Catherine sat on her other side and Nick and Warrick sat in the two chairs in front of Gils desk. Nobody had made a move to sit in his office chair. Somehow, it just didn't seem right.

Jim hadn't left Sara's side since she had read the note that Gil had left. The note seemed so final. Like he knew that he would never see them again. Sara read it twice, looked at Jim and grabbed him in a hug. She felt more protected when he was nearby.

Jim looked down at the brown leather of the sofa. He remembered the day that Gil had suckered him into helping him move it into his office. Promises of the biggest steak he had ever seen had made Jim chuckle and concede. It ended with them getting it wedged in the doorway with Jim in the office and Gil out of the office. Nick had just been walking by and Gil asked for his help.

"Just give it a little shove." Gil had suggested.

Nick was a little too enthusiastic and eager to please and put all of his weight and strength into his 'little shove'. The sofa popped through the doorway, throwing Jim back against the desk. He lost his grip on the piece of furniture and it crashed to the floor and onto his toes. The ensuing 'Son-of-a-Bitch!' resounded through the halls of the lab.

He smiled a little when he remembered limping for the next few days. He shook his head, suddenly disgusted with himself. It was like he was remembering the good times he used to share with a loved one who had just passed away. Gil's not dead. He scolded himself.

None of them had eaten anything more than coffee and snacks from the vending machine. Sara hadn't taken any thing more than a cup of coffee.

Suddenly Nick jumped excitedly to his feet and snapped his fingers.

"I'm such an idiot!" He yelled. "The GPS on his new phone!"

The others, except for Sara, caught on excitedly. She sat there and looked more like crying.

"Yeah." Warrick joined as he rose to his feet. "We can track him."

"It hasn't been working." Sara sadly shook her head.

They all looked at her, a little confused.

"He's been meaning to take it to the dealer and have it fixed." She looked down at her lap where she played with her fingers. "He just gets so side tracked sometimes, you know?"

Fresh tears began to form and Jim wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Nick and Warrick sat back down dejectedly. Sara leaned into Jim as she let fresh tears fall.

When his cell phone rang he removed his arm in order to answer it. He pulled it out of his pocket and surged to his feet when he read 'Grissom' on the caller ID. He quickly flipped open the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Gil?" He asked excitedly.

Everyone jumped to their feet and gathered around him.

"Oh."

He looked a little disappointed, making them all more anxious. Each of them silently wished that they could hear both sides of the conversation.

"Where are you, Greg?"

They whispered excitedly to each other and he shushed them. His brow furrowed in concentration to hear the young man through the static.

"What?" Jim raised his voice a little.

The line went dead and he looked down at the phone in his hand, confirming the call had been disconnected. He shut the phone and dropped his arm back down to his side. He was silent as he looked at the others, confusion evident on his face.

"Well, what did he say?" Catherine asked impatiently.

"I couldn't get all of it through the static." He said. "Something about Garrison Field."

He looked at each of them hoping perhaps they could clarify. Nick hurried around the desk and opened Gils lap top computer and the others crowded around him.

"Where are you not going to get a signal in Vegas?" He asked, but already knew the answer.

"The desert." Warrick answered, quickly catching on.

Within minutes they had found the only 'Garrison Field' on the map and were running out the door. Jim was immediately on his phone to dispatch, requesting two patrol cars and an ambulance. As they headed out the door they met Ecklie.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Jim just got a call from Greg." Catherine replied.

She didn't stop to talk and he had to jog to keep up with her.

"We think he's at Garrison Air Field in Moapa Valley." She explained.

"And Grissom?"

"We don't know. The call was disconnected."

They hurried past Judy at the reception desk and out the front door.

"Keep me informed." He yelled as she ran off towards Jim's vehicle.

She waved her response and jumped into the back seat. Jim was driving and Sara sat in the seat next to him. She was glad that Ecklie hadn't wanted to tag along, but it pissed her off that he hadn't at least mentioned it.

They tore out of the parking lot. Nick and Warrick on their tail and two squad cars behind them. They met the ambulance a short time later and they all formed their train East.

Greg woke from his deep sleep when he heard a familiar voice.

"Las Vegas police!" Jim yelled as he and the uniformed officers made their way through the door.

The hanger was obviously empty and he waved for the others to join them. Then he noticed Greg lying on the floor on the other side of the hanger. He ran over to him and knelt down next to him.

"Greg?" He spoke softly.

Greg's eyelids fluttered open and then quickly shut to block out the bright, afternoon sunlight.

"Greg, it's okay. We're here." He reassured the young man and put a hand on his shoulder.

All of the others rushed over to them but stood back to let the paramedics care for their charge. They watched as they paramedics checked his vitals and administered an IV. When they wrapped the brace around his arm he screamed and eventually passed out. Minutes later they loaded him onto the stretcher and rolled him out to the ambulance. Nick and Warrick volunteered to stay and work the scene and Jim would take Sara and Catherine with him to the hospital.

They followed the ambulance to the Desert Palms general hospital and Jim pulled the car into an empty parking space. They went through the automatic doors and over to the reception desk.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jim Brass of LVPD and this is Sara Sidle and Catherine Willows, they're CSI's." He said to the young blond nurse behind the counter. "We came in with Greg Sanders."

She looked down at the computer in front of her and after typing in his name she looked back up at him.

"Yes, they just brought him in."

Jim forced himself not to roll his eyes.

"We know," He forced his small smile. "We need to be kept informed of his condition." "And we'll need to collect evidence." Catherine interjected.

"Alright." The nurse replied. "I'll be sure to tell the doctor and nurses working on his case."

They nodded their thanks and walked into the waiting room. There were a few people sitting on the other side of the room and they looked up to see who was entering. Catherine excused herself to go call Ecklie as she had promised and Jim and Sara sat down on the sofa in the corner.

She leaned against him and he looked over at her tired face.

"You need to get some rest, kiddo." He quietly said to her.

She looked at him and gave a half smile. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she gratefully leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

When Catherine returned from making her call she stopped in the doorway. She smiled as she looked at her two friends. Sara sleeping in Jim's embrace and Jim with his head resting on the back of the sofa, softly snoring. She knew how they felt. She sat down next to Sara and picked up a magazine.

Almost two hours later a man in a long white coat stepped into the waiting room.

"Captain Brass?"

Jim immediately woke on hearing his name as did Catherine who had dozed off while trying be interested by the out of date magazine in her lap. Sara woke when Jim started to stand.

"I'm Brass." Jim said as he got to his feet. "How is he?'

"Mister Sanders is going to be fine. They've moved him into a room and you can go see him when we're done here."

"What are his injuries?" Sara asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"He suffered from a posterior dislocation of his right elbow, but the X ray didn't show any fractures. He will need to keep it immobilized for at least two weeks and then if looks well enough he can start the necessary physical therapy." He pause for a breath and to let the information sink in. "Other than that we treated him for a couple of minor abrasions on his face and we have him on intravenous fluids for his dehydration."

He stopped and waited for any questions they might have.

"Can we see him?" Sara asked.

"Sure, we put him on Diazepam for sedation and Fentanyl for pain so he won't wake up for a while and when he does it may be a little while before he's coherent."

They all said their thanks and he left the room to attend to his next patient.

They made their way to Greg's room and he was dead to the world as the doctor had said he would be. His right arm was wrapped in a sling and an IV tube protruded from the back of his left hand. Catherine stepped back out to the hallway and called Warrick and then Ecklie.

A nurse followed her back into the room to register Greg's vitals.

"We need the clothes that he was wearing when he was brought in." She said to the older woman.

"Yes. They're on the shelf in the closet."

After checking Greg's fingernails for evidence of trace and finding nothing she went to the closet and took down the bag containing his things.

"I should get these back to the lab so they can be processed."

Jim nodded and took his keys out of his pocket. She agreed to drop the bag off with days and return with his vehicle. The nurse finished and Catherine followed her out.

Jim took Sara's hand, who sat in the chair next his, and they silently waited for Greg to wake.

A/N: The letter for today kiddies is the letter R. R for Review! Can you review children?