A/N: Well guys, here it is. The final chapter. It's hard to think I have been writing this story for almost 3 years. I didn't actually begin posting it until almost 2 years after I'd started writing it. I feel a little sad actually.
There are so many people to thank who have helped with this next step in my series. Cropper1818 was the very first and although she no longer writes in the fandom I always keep my fingers crossed she will finish Prisoner of The Dance. She was my first beta on this and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for getting the ball rolling.
SSC has been a massive help and guiding light for me over the past year or so. Thank you for all your help and hopefully one day you may reconsider your writing aspirations.
I would also like to thank PrintDust who helped me out on chapters towards the end and to Leti who has stuck by my stories for I can't count how many years. I love chatting to you babe and you can be my rock most of the times.
I have thought hard and long about the end of this story but I always intended, even way back when, when I wrote Retribution to end part 3 like this. So please don't hate me. I guess I'm allowed at least one of these.
I hope you are all around to join me for part 4 of the Rage series :)
No beta, so be kind. Enjoy.
Chapter 24
Brass ran, quickly being flanked by those around him. Cosgrove did the same when he spotted the fallen man on the sofa.
The lawman skidded to a halt over Grissom. His breathing was heavy, his eyes wide. Nick joined him, a horrified look upon his face.
"We're too late..." Nick mumbled.
The two men looked at each other before Brass shot to his knees and rolled Grissom over.
Catherine and Greg emerged and the female CSI held a hand to her mouth when her eyes fixed on the scene set out before her.
Grissom was a dead weight and as he was flipped, his arm fell limply to his side, his hand falling to the floor with a soft thud.
Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, Brass reached two fingers to the supervisor's neck. Just as he did, Grissom's eyes shot open and a gasp slipped from his lips. It took the captain by surprise and he fell backwards onto his ass.
"Agghhhh!" Grissom screamed, wildly punching out into thin air but his sudden panic didn't last long and his hand shot to his head as confusion and more pain gripped his battered body.
"Jesus, Gil..." Catherine pushed Nick aside and was quickly by her friend's side, slipping a gentle hand under his head to pull him up a bit.
Cosgrove pulled out his radio and just prayed it was going to work. "Officer down, officer down..." he called, "Requesting ambulance STAT."
Luckily he got a response as he checked Danny's pulse.
"He alive?" another officer asked.
"Just barely." Cosgrove sighed. "Now we know where he went. Get some guys upstairs now. We are still missing people as well as his partner and our suspects..."
The young officer didn't argue and they continued to search the house.
Grissom gasped again as Catherine hovered over him and ran a finger over the slice on his forehead. "Looks like a graze from a bullet," she said to those behind her. "Luckily, they only got a bit of him. Must have knocked him out though."
The supervisor suddenly got a grasp on reality and even if dazedly, he shot upright. "Sara!" he shouted on a groan.
"Easy, Gil," Catherine advised, placing her hands on his shoulders.
He blinked at her. "Where is she?" he whimpered.
Catherine shook her head, looking to Brass. "What happened?" Catherine then asked. "When did you last see her?"
Grissom tried to push himself up but he struggled. "Damn it, help me up."
"I think you should stay there, Grissom," Nick advised. "At least until the paramedics have checked you over. You look like hell."
Grissom gave his subordinate a no-nonsense glare. "Fine, don't bother," he spat, again trying to get up.
Both Brass and Nick stepped forwards and helped the CSI to his feet.
The supervisor was very unsteady when he got to his feet and all his colleagues gave him the upmost look of concern but nobody offered an argument.
"Where is she?"
"Gil, we don't know," Catherine answered.
The officers who had checked the upstairs came running back down. "Nothing upstairs," they informed Brass.
Brass looked around just as the guys in basement came back up. "Got two bodies, one is Officer Freeman."
"She's not here," Brass concluded.
Grissom's breathing became very heavy and he pushed his way passed the CSI's stumbling towards the door.
His group were quick to follow.
"Where are going?" Brass demanded, grabbing his arm and stopping him.
Grissom shrugged him off and managed to stagger out the door and onto the driveway. "They've taken her," he cried. "Oh, my god, they've taken her." He pointed up the driveway as the team followed him. "There was a truck, it's gone." He looked up to the sky, for the first time in hours the rain was faltering and the sky was clearing.
Probably why Cosgrove managed to get through on his radio.
Cosgrove joined the group, noting the commotion. "What kind of truck?" he asked.
Grissom eyed him suspiciously, he didn't know this man and at that point he wasn't particularly trusting of anyone. But what choice did he have?
The senior CSI swiped his arm over the slice on his forehead, feeling a trickle of blood. "Yellow pickup..."
Cosgrove's jaw dropped. "We...passed a yellow pickup on the road coming here..."
Grissom's head plunged to his feet, any life left inside him seeping out. The cops had driven right by them...and most likely right by Sara.
He fought back the pain and the tears, sucked in a shallow breath and began backing away.
"Gil..." Brass warned. "You need help."
Grissom ignored his friend, turned and headed down the driveway.
"Stay here," Brass said to the CSI's. "He needs someone to talk him down."
The captain was quick to chase Grissom down. "Gil...please!"
The CSI continued on his course until he reached the last car. He peeked inside the window to see the keys in the ignition. He reached for the door handle but Brass grabbed his arm.
"You're in no fit state to drive," Brass said firmly.
"They can't be that far away, Jim, we know which way they went and they have my wife. If you had any idea what we've been through tonight...Help me..."
Brass was conflicted. He knew Grissom needed medical help but he also knew if they didn't try and track the fugitives they may never find them. Or Sara. He looked back to the house knowing he wasn't really needed here now.
"Get in," he responded, pulling out his radio. "But I'm driving"
Grissom nodded and moved to the passenger side as Brass called in an urgent APB on the truck. The captain then slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
Catherine, Nick and Greg all looked at each other in disbelief as they watched the car reverse, turn and disappear down the driveway.
"Where the hell are they going?" Nick asked.
"Who knows but we're following them," Catherine answered.
Yanking her cell from her pocket, Catherine ran back into the house. She needed a path clearing so they could get their vehicle out.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Grissom held his head in his hands as they sped down the road. "I can't believe they took her," he mumbled.
Biting down hard on his lip Brass sought the right thing to say, he just couldn't seem to find it. His cell rang and he plucked it from his top pocket.
"Yeah?"
"Jim," Catherine shot at him. "Where the hell are you going?"
Brass looked to his friend slumped besides him. "We're heading west on 57, the suspect vehicle went this way..."
"You think you're going to find them?" she questioned. "Gil needs to see a doctor."
"Don't you think I know that?" Brass tried to keep his cool but he didn't succeed very well.
Catherine sighed. "We're going to follow. Keep me updated as to where you are." She hung up.
Brass dropped his phone on the dash just as a call came through on the now working radio.
"APB alert on yellow pickup last seen driving west on 57 has been reported in a 401 five miles north of location. Pick up, Captain Brass...over..."
That got Grissom's attention, 401 was a traffic accident and he glanced at the radio before turning his head to look at his friend. Brass swallowed and picked up the receiver.
"This is Brass..."
Grissom felt like he was floating as he listened to the conversation between Brass and PD. A pickup matching the description of the one they sought had been involved in a bad collision not so far away. Emergency vehicles were already on the scene.
The supervisor had no idea what to think or what they would find when they got there. The way he felt, he struggled to string a single thought together. The only thing he could seem to focus on was Sara and praying he would find her safe.
Brass informed Catherine of the news and location and hit the gas. Now the weather was clearing, driving was much easier and they sped down the highway not even glancing once at the speedometer.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
The rain had completely stopped by the time Brass reached the scene of the accident.
Grissom leaned forward in his seat as soon as he spotted the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles in the distance. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what was happening but they weren't close enough yet.
The road had been totally sealed off and an officer stepped into the road, moving the barricade so the squad car could get through.
Brass let up on the gas and the car crawled towards the scene, stopping just before the chaos.
Grissom jumped from the car and his eyes darted around the scene, his breathing quick and short.
Although it was noisy and hectic around him, his brain didn't seem to compute and he felt like he was under water. It was almost as if his Otosclerosis had returned and everything seemed to be happening in deafened slow motion.
He didn't hear the spray of the fire hoses; he didn't hear the shouts of command or voices of calm trying to reassure the injured.
His attention first settled upon a tanker truck about twenty meters down the road. A fire truck parked besides it and numerous firemen were spraying the vehicle with foam. More than likely to ensure it wasn't about to ignite the hundreds of gallons of fuel which it held.
Off on the side of the road he noticed a man on a stretcher being treated and a paramedic was wrapping a bandage around his bloody head. Grissom concluded that must have been the driver of the tanker.
He looked back to the large carrier, taking a few wobbly steps forwards. The entire front of the cab was crushed. It almost looked like it had imploded. The windshield was smashed, spatters of blood mingling within the cracks. The CSI determined a head on collision but with the damage done to the tanker he knew the fleeing truck would have come off much worse being the smaller of the two vehicles.
Then, not too far away, he spotted a Chrysler, the car looked undamaged and a man and a woman were stood talking to two police officers. They looked unhurt but shaken.
His head snapped to the left. His eyes trying to focus upon the second scene some thirty meters away. He didn't hear Brass talking to him as he staggered towards it.
Three fire trucks and three ambulances sat off on the side-lines while their occupants scrambled frantically around what Grissom could make out as the yellow truck which had taken his wife. He couldn't quite see the damage though or what was happening because of the amount of activity surrounding it.
He was within ten meters of the chaos when he felt a tug on his arm and Brass, as softly as he could, pulled him to a stop.
Grissom looked to his friend who looked pretty pale.
"It's bad, Gil," Brass said to him after gaining a little info from an officer while Grissom had been staring at the tanker. "You should keep back."
It's bad. The words hit Grissom like the yellow truck hit the tanker. He pictured Sara lying dead on the highway, ejected from the vehicle. He had processed enough MVAs to know that if there was no hope that she would simply be covered by a tarp on the rain slickened road.
Pulling his arm away, Grissom ignored the captain's advice and followed on course.
"Gil..." Brass warned, quickly following.
Grissom was within a few meters of the crowd surrounding the truck when an officer looked over his shoulder and recognized the approaching CSI. He was quick to move and held up his hands.
"Grissom..." the officer began, placing his hands upon the CSI's shoulders and halting him, "...you should keep away..."
His heart sunk. Two warnings to keep back could only be the worst news.
After a second of glaring at the younger man, Grissom took a step to his right and managed to see through a path which had formed amongst the emergency workers. He sucked in a ragged breath as he stared dead on at the front of the truck. It was just what he'd feared. The front end of the vehicle was totally crumpled, beyond recognition. The windshield was no more after imploding completely under the impact.
"Oh my God," he sobbed as his eyes fell upon his unconscious wife, on oxygen mask on her face, numerous hands working around her, a paramedic by her side inside the vehicle while another on the outside held her head through the shattered passenger window.
Grissom moved faster than he even thought he could given his condition and he was around the officer before the cop could do anything about it.
"Gil" Brass shouted now, giving chase along with his fellow badge holder.
The crowd surrounding the vehicle heard the captain yell and turned to see Grissom rushing their way. Two firemen who were getting ready to fire up their cutting equipment jumped forwards and grabbed the CSI.
"Let me go!" Grissom cried, attempting to fight them but his strength was boarding on zero. "Sara!" he shouted. "My wife is in there!"
The two firemen exchanged a worried glance as they held them. "Calm down," one said. "We are trying to help her."
Brass and the officer joined the trio as Grissom still fought, his eyes fixed upon his wife and the blood trickling down her face.
"Gil, please," Brass begged, looking to his friend. "You are not helping."
Tears filled Grissom's eyes now but his body slumped, he just had no more fight left in him.
A paramedic stepped up, watching the commotion.
"Let him go," Shelly said to the two firemen and they both blew out a breath, releasing the CSI. They stepped away and back to their task at hand.
Grissom looked to her and she offered him a sympathetic smile holding out her hand. "Step over here with me," she requested.
He hesitated, looking back at his wife.
"Please, Gil. You look like hell and in need of some treatment." She waggled her fingers, urging him to take her hand. "Let me take a look at you."
"She's pregnant," he whispered, unable to say much more.
Shelly nodded. "We know. But right now, Sara is our main priority. Until we get her out of the car, stabilized and to the hospital we can't determine her exact condition or the condition of the babies. We need to get her stable, Gil. For now, we must concentrate on that."
His heart lurched through his chest. Would his children survive this? Would his wife?
Shelly lowered her hand, realizing her wasn't going to budge. She nodded sadly. "I've heard you've been through a lot tonight, Gil, but I'm going to be straight with you. But you do not interfere, do you understand?"
He felt like he was floating again, but he nodded. "Just tell me what's happening. How did this..." He held his hand out to the scene unable to finish.
"So far, from the few witnesses we have in the tanker and the other car, they say that the truck your wife is in tried to overtake the Chrysler and went head on into the tanker." Her explanation was vague but all details hadn't been communicated yet. "The impact was lethal; the driver from the pickup is over there on the road somewhere. He is like paste. Shot right out of the windscreen. Luckily your wife was wearing a safety belt and it no doubt saved her life."
Grissom blinked and found a tiny inch of relief. At least his kidnappers had paid attention to at least one thing he'd said. But his relief was short lived.
"But that's as far as the good news goes," she said honestly. "The impact from the crash thrust the front of the car inwards, the bonnet, the dash, everything. Sara is trapped, Gil." She took a breath, trying to find the most painless way to say what she was about to but there wasn't really an easy approach to the news. "Her legs are crushed; we are going to have to cut her out."
The supervisor's chin trembled. "But..."
Shelly cut him off. "We need to get her out as soon as possible; her blood pressure is off the chart and we are against the clock, especially with the pregnancy." She stepped forwards and placed her hand on his arm. "We are doing everything we can and you have to keep back and let us do our jobs."
He could do nothing but nod as no words would come to him. She gave him another sad smile and moved back towards the car. He stepped a little closer but didn't interfere. Brass and the officer stuck closely by him just in case. The supervisor listened and watched as Sara's rescue continued.
Brass looked around and although his thoughts were very much with Grissom and Sara at that point, he realized they were missing something.
"Where's the other guy?" he mumbled.
Slowly, Grissom looked to him and then both looked to the officer.
"Other guy?" the cop asked.
"There were two men in the car with Sara," Brass continued. "We know one is mince meat, where's the other?"
The cop looked a little surprised and shook his head. "We haven't found anyone else."
Brass bit down on his bottom lip and Grissom just sighed, looking back to the car. Right now he couldn't care less about anyone but his wife.
Pulling his radio from his pocket, Brass informed PD of the missing fugitive, not that Grissom heard much of the radio call. He was concentrating too much on the paramedics and what they were saying but that was soon drowned out as the cutting equipment started.
Grissom felt himself swaying, his head felt light and muddled but his eyes remained transfixed on the fire-fighters as they began cutting the car away piece by piece. The paramedic stayed with Sara inside the car through ever crunching slice, holding her perfectly still. Grissom knew Sara's legs were crushed but did she have spinal injuries as well?
He still couldn't quite believe this was happening.
Suddenly, something else caught his ears and he looked over his shoulder and up into the darkness. He spotted a light coming their way.
"Medi-vac," the officer informed him. "Weather was good enough for clearance."
That gave the CSI a little boost, at least once Sara was free of her crushed prison she would be swiftly away to hospital.
Grissom sniffed hard. What about the babies? What damage had been done during the crash? It was a horrific thought. The babies weren't only in jeopardy but Sara was too. Was the whole world just against them?
What made him feel so totally helpless was he couldn't do anything but watch.
The chopper reached them quickly and flew overhead to land a little way down the road.
Grissom shivered as the roof to the car was removed, six firemen surrounding the car helping in the objective. He sucked in a shallow breath as his wife was totally revealed to him. She looked so battered, so fragile, so pale...
He flexed his fingers over and over as the emergency workers shouted out more guidance to each other but then his view became blocked again as they completely surrounded the vehicle.
"Gil?" he heard coming from behind him and he spun around to see his team rushing in his direction, led by Catherine.
He swallowed the lump in his throat as they reached him.
"What's happening?" his second in command asked.
Again, he found himself a little lost for words and he turned back to the scene.
Catherine, Nick and Greg all glanced over to the rescue operation, all lining up beside their leader and Brass.
No one pushed for answers when Grissom remained silent. They could see his distress unfolding right in front of them.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
It took almost twenty minutes to free Sara from the car. The difficulty came due to the impalement of her legs in the destroyed dash but eventually she was pulled out of the wreckage.
Half a dozen emergency workers helped lower her lifeless body onto the stretcher and one of the Medi-Vac EMT's immediately induced an IV into her left arm.
"We've got to move quickly," his partner said with urgency, checking Sara's vitals as another paramedic began cutting away what was left of her pant legs.
Grissom slowly began walking towards them. Catherine and Brass exchanged a glance and followed.
"Is she strapped down?" Grissom heard as he got closer.
"Ready to go," came the response.
Before Grissom got to them, they were already away, stretcher in hand and rushing towards the waiting helicopter.
He blinked hard, his mouth working in very nervous circles and he willed his legs to move. Within a few seconds, he was hurrying after the group and his team gave chase.
When he reached the chopper, Sara was being lifted inside.
"I'm going with her!" he shouted, attempting to be heard over the rotor blades. He took a breath then as his vision became a little obscured. He felt incredibly dizzy all of a sudden.
Shelly heard his plea and after handing the IV to the Medi-Vac technician she approached him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don't look too great, Gil," she hollered over the noise.
He shook his head, trying to shake away the disorientated feeling. "I'm fine and I need to go with her."
Now Shelly shook her head. "Not a good idea, there is too much going on, Gil."
Watching as Sara was secured into the chopper he felt his knees struggling to hold him. He tried to shrug it off. "I don't care," he argued fiercely. "She's my wife!"
"There isn't enough room, Gil. She needs all the attention she can get right now and we need extra help on board."
He was about to continue his argument when the world suddenly spun around him. His knees finally gave way and he fell towards the female paramedic.
Her eyes widened but she acted quickly, attempting to grab him. But, he was much too heavy for her and all she could do was fall to the ground with him.
"Shit!" Brass muttered and rushed to help, along with the rest of the CSI team.
"Gil?" Shelly managed to gather herself and turned Grissom onto his back. She cupped his face in her hands. "Can you hear me? Gil?"
Grissom thought someone was talking to him but he wasn't quite sure. All he could hear was a muffled mumbling. It seemed his body had finally had enough.
"Has he been hit in the head?" Shelly asked urgently, looking up to his team then quickly pulling a pen light from her pocket and shinning it into his glazed eyes. She suspected his nose had been broken; the state of his face was a dead giveaway so that could have led to his disorientation but the slice on his forehead gave her other ideas.
Catherine wrapped her arms around her body. "More than likely," she replied. "I think...that graze on his head may have been from a bullet."
Shelly frowned as Grissom remained pretty unresponsive. "Not having a good night, are you?" she said to him, grabbing his right wrist and checking his pulse.
"Shelly! We have to go!" An EMT hung out of the chopper door, looking down to the scene below him.
She thought for a moment." Go!" she replied. "I'll stay with him." She looked back to Grissom's team. "Give me a hand to move him so the helicopter can take off," she requested.
Brass, Nick and Greg all stepped forwards, grabbing an arm or a leg and carefully helped move the supervisor to a safe distance.
Nick removed his jacket and placed it under Grissom's head as Shelly radioed in for one of the ambulances to come over to them. "Hang on, Griss," Nick urged his boss. "Just hang on..."
Grissom blinked hard managing to decipher the sound of the helicopter taking off but that was soon cut short. As he watched the beam of light fly over him his eyes drifted closed.
Everything went silent and then there was nothing.
Nothing, at all.
The End.
To be Continued….
A/N: So there we go. Part 4 will be coming up soon. I thank you all for reading and for your reviews. Evil hat thanks you also and he is off to finish up on the next chapter of It's All for You. I will be working hard on The Calling in the next upcoming months to try and get that baby finished also.
Please let me know what your thoughts are on this story and make sure you catch what's happening and keep your eyes open for part 4 of my series.
Have a great day!