| bqgreer_7 ( @ 2007-09-18 06:00:00 |
Grissom slowly slid down against the wall. He was holding his Glock, its magazine now empty. The world seemed to float in and out of focus. It seemed like hours since he and Sara had entered the warehouse. The dead man lay some 20 feet from him, and Gil had lost all track of time when in reality, it had only been but a few minutes.
Captain Jim Brass and two uniformed officers cautiously approached the entrance to the warehouse. Everything was strangely quiet and still. Peering into the semi-darkness of the abandoned warehouse, Brass could make out a crumpled figure lying in a pool of blood. He immediately called for an ambulance. Knowing that Grissom’s team of CSI’s would be arriving soon, Brass ordered the uniforms to call for additional backup and to secure the scene quickly. Holding his Glock in front of him, Brass cautiously entered the warehouse. Scanning the scene, his eyes fell upon Grissom sitting against the wall with his gun in his right hand. The two officers with Brass secured the scene as Brass made his way over to Grissom. Gris did not acknowledge the presence of his friend or of the officers but stared with glazed eyes at the man lying in the pool of blood.
“Gil…” Brass crouched down next to Grissom and gently took the gun from his friend’s hand. “Gil…” Grissom was apparently in shock, and Brass quickly examined Grissom for injuries. The injured man turned his head slowly towards Brass and his dark blue eyes seem to slowly come into focus. Swallowing hard, Grissom licked his lips and attempted to get up.
“Brass…Jim…Where's Sara?...She was here. She brought you here, right? Is she ok? She came with you, right?” Ignoring the questions, Captain Jim Brass pushed his friend gently down and said in a low voice, “ Gil…the paramedics will be here soon. You gotta let them help you. You were hit….”
Grissom gazed down his front and watched in wonder at the spread of blood that was oozing down his shirt and pooling on to the floor. “No, I’m ok….I’m fine,” he croaked.
Looking at Brass with intense eyes, “Jim, dammit, I need to know…” he hissed.
“Gil, she's not here. We were already on the way here. I told her to leave the scene. She said that you were in trouble and that she couldn’t leave you…” Jim examined his friend’s battered face and wondered how to tell him that Sara was no where to be found.
“What do you mean you don’t know where she is? She's got to have gotten away. She was with me. I told her to leave …” His voice started to rise and panic started to overcome him. Grissom, again, struggled to stand up, but Brass gently held him down.
“C’mon, Buddy. The EMT’s are here to look at you…Catherine will be here with Greg….they;ll start to process the scene…let’s take care of you…”
“No…Jim…she has to be okay. I sent her away. We were trapped ….”
“Gil, you can’t help her now. Besides, knowing Sara, she’s probably following a lead. She’s tough. You know that…” However, Brass also knew that Sara never would have left Grissom if he were in trouble. Her disappearance had him worried. Jim hurried on, “We’re doing everything possible. The rest of the team is combing the area. Catherine will be here…you know she’ll find anything that is to be found. She can’t do that if she has to worry about you. Let her do her job.”
“Hey, Gil. We got it covered,” came the soft voice behind Jim Brass. Squinting to clear his vision, Grissom caught a blurred vision of Catherine Willows, her worried look breaking into a weak smile as she gently touched his arm to reassure him.
Grissom reluctantly nodded and clenched his teeth as the EMT’s quickly took over. He shut his eyes and shuttered from the white hot pain that was coursing through his body. Hands quickly checked the gunshot wound to his shoulder and for other injuries. Nausea washed over him, and he fought to keep the bile down. He hissed as hands quickly probed his wounds.
“Sorry, Dr. Grissom…but we gotta see where you’re at….” Grissom’s jaw tightened, and he nodded in acknowledgment.
“GSW to the left shoulder…contusions and abrasions upper torso and face…broken left wrist…possible concussion…white male, early fifties- bp 96 /68 ….pulse thready and weak…patient is conscious but nauseous ….We’re loading him on the bus now ….should arrive 5-10 minutes tops. IV started….Roger that.”
Grissom felt himself being quickly loaded onto a gurney. Dizziness swept through him as he fought to keep the darkness from enveloping him.
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Catherine Willows sighed with relief as the ambulance pulled away. She was tempted to follow it to Desert Palm but knew that the warehouse needed to be quickly processed. Besides, a member of the team was missing, and that had to be her top priority. Turning to Greg, she quietly directed him to start taking photos of the scene.
Greg Sanders nodded. He paused before snapping pictures of the blood-splattered wall before him. Grissom’s blood.
Catherine walked over to the body that lay several feet away from where Brass had found Gil. A young black male in his mid-twenties was shot in the chest, through the heart multiple times. She knew Grissom was an expert marksman, having proven his prowess with a revolver at the shooting range. He usually scored highest for the entire department in marksmanship. Ironically, and much to Brass’s chagrin, he rarely carried his weapon out in the field. Catherine had known Gil to draw his weapon only three times in all the years she had worked with him. In those three times, Grissom had not fired his weapon. It was unusual for Gil to have his weapon with him and to shoot with such deadly accuracy meant that he was in a life or death struggle. Very unGrissomlike…….
Turning back to where Grissom was found against the wall, Catherine glanced back and forth between where Gil was and where the body now lay.
“Greg, what do you see? Run it.”
“I think this guy ambushed Grissom. Looking at the blood splatter and the scuff prints. It looks like Grissom was grabbed from behind. Grissom fights back and falls against the wall. This guy starts to leave. Griss yells for him to stop and draws his weapon. This guy stops where he is now, and shoots at Grissom but Grissom’s shot hit the guy first. So the guy’s aim is off and Grissom is shot in the shoulder. More shots are fired at Grissom by the looks of the ricochet and the bullet holes in the wall. Grissom, on pure adrenaline, empties his Glock.”
Catherine shook her head.
“Where was Sara in all this? Both Grissom and Sara arrived here together. Something happened where they were separated. If there was any hint of danger, Grissom would have waited for back up. True, he has entered crime scenes that were not necessarily secured, but that was when he was alone. He wouldn’t have done that with someone with him unless it was a uniform.”
“I think that initially you’re right, though. Griss was physically assaulted and he ended up against the wall. He sustained his head injury, bruises, and broken wrist then. He was shot in the shoulder. Brass said that Grissom’s Glock was empty. But these shots were too accurate with Grissom being injured. It looks like the shots are through and through. Greg, I think that there was at least another person here.
“Could Gris have killed this guy and someone else shot Grissom?” wondered Greg as he snapped off a few more pictures.
“ I dunno, Greg. Maybe. Process and fingerprint everything. Send everything to Trace. Let’s see if we can figure out what went on here. I’m on my way to Desert Palm. Maybe Grissom will be able to tell us something. He is also evidence. Let’s see what physical evidence he might have on him.”
Hearing footsteps entering the warehouse, Catherine turned to see Nick Stokes with his kit. He headed right over to where Greg and Catherine were standing.
“Hey. Have you found anything around the perimeter?” inquired Catherine as she slowly straightened up.
“Some shoeprints, which we took pictures of. Tire tracks….looks like someone took off in a hurry. There was a bit of struggle. Vegetation was disturbed and Warrick is measuring the tire tracks and shoeprints. An SUV or truck by the looks of the tracks. Once we run those, we should be narrow down the field. There were at least four different sets of shoeprints.”
“What about Griss’s
“On my way to do that next.
Catherine sighed. Not a good sign. “I’m headed over to Desert Palm. I’ll let you guys know what’s going on with Grissom. He took some nasty blows to the head, possible broken wrist along with a gunshot wound to his shoulder. We can take shifts at the hospital.” Catherine noticed Nick’s worried look and reassured him. “Griss is going to be ok, but he’ll be a handful as long as Sara’s missing. One of us is going to have to be with him for a while to make him behave,” she said. With that Catherine walked quickly to her
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