Very few dared enter the layout room where Grissom angrily went through case files of Richard Bathory. Finishing one file and throwing it off to the side, Grissom stabbed his hand into the white cardboard box and snatched up another file. Grissom was certain that there was something in the files that would point him in the direction of the Bathory brothers.
            Richard was random and would be difficult to predict but Markus was his keeper and Markus was anything but random. Markus was preparation, patience and control. He had planned for this moment, prepared for it and waited for the time when the courts would make his brother available to him.
             Sara had tried to talk him into returning to the safehouse and changing from his court clothes, her hope was that he would stay there and unwind. Grissom had refused and now stood at the illuminated table with his necktie loose and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up.
            “Find anything?” Catherine asked entering the room prepared to be ignored or screamed at.
            Grissom looked up from his task, rubbing his jaw before answering her. “Not yet,” he confessed on an exhale.
            Catherine came up along side him. Placing her hand on his shoulder she gave him a sympathetic rub. “Damn Gil! If you were wound any more tight…” she half teased noting the bunched up muscles along his back and shoulder.
            Grissom answered her with an annoyed huff.
            Catherine placed some papers on the table before him. “This is all the information that Vartann got from that Cray kid,” she told him. “According to him and Vega the kid was more concerned with Bathory finding him than anything else.”
            “Hmm,” was Grissom’s only reply as he scanned the transcripts of the interview Vartann and Vega had with Cray.
            Catherine tried to study Grissom out of the corner of her eye as she fingered through the evidenced half-heartedly. Everyone’s nerves were on edge since the courthouse attack. It had taken Greg a good hour before his nerves leveled out enough that he didn’t suffer from the shakes. Both Nick and Warrick had nearly jumped out of their skin when Bobby Dawson had yelled his typical warning before firing off two shots into the ballistics tank and Sara had nearly taken Hodges head off over his usual snarkiness.
            Even Catherine found herself taking deep breaths now and then just to maintain her calm. She prided herself on her ability to roll with whatever came her way. So to say she wasn’t happy about the edginess that had creeped under her skin since the courthouse was a definite understatement: Catherine Willows was pissed about it.
            But Grissom…Grissom seemed unaffected by the chaos and insanity that had erupted around them. In fact the only emotion he had displayed since then was anger and even that had flamed out once he had gotten to the lab. Catherine worried over him greatly. Grissom seemed to have no emotional compass, no way to gauge the appropriate response and he was all over the emotional spectrum.
            “Gil,” Catherine hesitated, waiting to see if she had his attention “do you feel okay?”
            Grissom paused thumbing through the papers his, eyes drifting somewhere to the other side of the table. Catherine could see him open his mouth as if he were about to say something before changing his mind and remaining silent.
            “I know you have Sara,” Catherine went on “but I’m here for you. You know that, right?” There were certain things in Catherine’s life she treasured, her daughter being first and foremost, her family and her friendship with Gil Grissom.  They were an odd pair and she couldn’t count how many times someone had wrongly assumed it was sexual. They counterbalanced each other well, a sort of yin and yang relationship.
            Grissom nodded solemnly never meeting her eyes. Grissom suddenly dropped the paper he held in his hand and dove for another folder in the white box, his hands snapping the files back and forth as he searched. Snatching one out, he licked his thumb and forefinger as he flipped through the papers quickly scanning their contents.
            “What is it?” Catherine asked looking over at the file he had opened.
            Throwing the files back in the box along with transcripts Catherine had brought him Grissom asked “Where’s Greg or Sara?”
            “Umm, Greg was in Trace with Hodges going over the smoke bombs and Sara’s with Archie going over courthouse surveillance. Why?”
            “Get one of them and find me. I think I know how we can find them.” Grissom hustled out of the room, box in hand.
            Blinking momentarily, Catherine went in search for Sara and Greg.
                      
            *****************************************************************

            Brass and Sofia watched as the firefighters cut into the engine compartment of the smoldering Suburban. With the engine exposed two firefighters swooped and sprayed the engine down. The fire retardant foam dripping and oozing out of the grill and wheel wells fell in large, dirty white dollops upon the ground. With the fire out and no chance of the engine reigniting Brass and Sofia were given the all clear.
            “What do you think?” Sofia asked approaching the charred remains of the SUV. The blackened body behind the steering wheel was barely visible as she approached with Brass.
            “I’m thinking we can’t possibly be this lucky,” Brass answered her in all seriousness. Remembering to breathe through his mouth he approached the driver’s side door.
            “You think it’s a dodge?” Sofia asked bringing her hand to her mouth and nose as she got her first real whiff of the smoldering corpse within.
            “That’s where I’m putting my chips,” Brass said as he inspected what was left of the interior of the vehicle.
            It took the daytime coroner’s assistant forty minutes to get to the location and clear the body for transport. It had taken Nick and Warrick less than an hour after that to have the vehicle ready to be hauled into CSI. Most of the evidence had burnt up in the truck but fire was fickle and it didn’t always burn what a perp wanted it to burn. With a bag full of evidence the two CSIs made their way back to the lab.
            “How do you think Grissom will take this?” Nick asked sliding into the passenger seat, rubbing his jaw tiredly as he did so.
            Warrick sighed as he started up the vehicle and checked his mirrors before pulling onto the road. “Gris was a hard cat to peg before all this tragedy. I can’t even guess what’s going to be dancing through his head.”
            Nick sighed. It was strange how they had all come to depend so much on Grissom in so many ways. They had all grown stronger as investigators, as a team. Each of them had proven themselves time and time again but it was always comforting to know that if they needed someone to lean on Grissom had always had their backs. Since Grissom’s abduction Nick felt like that little piece of security had been damaged, because Grissom seemed damaged.
            “Well, I hope it is Bathory,” Nick said vindictively even though every bone in his investigator’s body told him it wasn’t “and I hope it hurt like Hell!”
            “I hear you there,” Warrick agreed enthusiastically.

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

            Markus Bathory watched with anticipation as the black Suburban pulled through the hangar sized doors of their new hideout. It had been years since he had seen his brother. Ten years of waiting and watching and planning for the day in which they could be together once more.
            Richard did not wait for the truck to come to a complete stop. Jumping out of the driver’s side rear door, he threw up his hands in glee as he rushed to meet Markus have way across the concrete expanse of the warehouse.
            “BROTHER!” the two bellowed in unison, clasping each other in an energetic bear hugs.
            Aside from the hairstyles and Richard’s tattoos the brother’s looked identical. Markus ran his hand playfully over Richard’s close cropped mohawk and chuckled.
            “Come,” Markus threw an arm over Richard’s shoulders leading him across the empty warehouse.
            “What is this place?” Richard asked his pale silver eyes glittering in the muted glow of the suspended lights above. “I don’t remember it.”
            Markus laughed slapping his brother on the back. His joy at seeing him was beyond euphoric. “You wouldn’t. This my brother was where silica was shipped turned into silica gel and made in to those little packages that come in shoe boxes and the like.”
            Richard eyed his brother curiously as they passed through the metal doors that lead from the shipping warehouse to the small factory. The tall row of windows above the factory floor were stained brown from sand and dust and everything had a gritty gray look about it, even the air.
            The circuit of conveyor belts, catwalks and metal rails lay still and silent like a shipwreck at the bottom of the sea. Its promise long since lost over the years as it lay forgotten, hidden behind the brick and steel walls.
            A sly smile broke out over Richard’s face. “It must be isolated if YOU chose it,” Richard almost hissed in excitement at the possibilities.
            Markus’s smile waned slightly. “Yes, Richie, its secluded enough but don’t get any ideas. This place is a temporary stop,” Markus stated, eyeing his brother firmly. “We lay low as we take care of few odds and ends and then we are off to Eastern Europe for awhile.”
            Richard grinned and slapped his brother playfully on the back. “You worry too much brother.”
            Markus snorted. “I only worry because of you Richard.
            They halted in front of gray metal door spiderwebbed with rust colored scratches. The square window in the door was completely useless, stained a yellow brown and gray. Markus held the handle of the door.
            “Now,” he said in a tone that was all business “let’s get you fed and changed,” his eyes sought out Donny who had quietly and dutifully followed along behind “and then we will work on other things.”
            Donny’s lips curled up on one side of his mouth before he turned on his heel to return to the truck. Donny had enjoyed watching his captive partner sweat it out as he had checked with Jake and set fire to their decoy. He knew her fears, knew that she thought she would be sitting in that truck along side their corpse but Markus had other plans for Laney. Laney had one more job to do and it would soon be time for Laney to fulfill her last duty to them.

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

            Sara looked at the charred hull of the Suburban as it sat in the CSI garage. The smell of burnt gas, polyethylene and human flesh still very prominent, even after the twenty mile trip. The wind shield had remained mostly intact, shattered by the intense heat of the fire but not blown out like the driver’s side windows had been and any indication has to the truck’s paint color had been obliterated. Every instinct Sara had as an investigator told her this was a distraction but one they had to investigate none the less.
             Doc Robbins was with Warrick and the body down in the morgue. It had been suspect that the driver had lost all his teeth in the accident, since most of the time it was merely the front teeth that were damaged or lost in motor vehicle accidents. Since the fingertips of the body had been burnt away along with the face, teeth would have been the next logical step in identifying the victim of the crash. Still, they hadn’t become the number two lab in the nation for no reason.
            Richard Bathory had been studied and documented six ways from Sunday when he had initially been arrested. He had also suffered a concussion in prison. There were enough medical documents at their disposal for them to at least confirm or eliminate the well-cooked remains as Richard Bathory. Once that was done, we’ll try and find out who he really is, Sara thought angrily.
            Nick shoved open the double doors of the garage. “So you ready to pick through this mess?” he asked slipping on his utility gloves as Sara pulled her hair up into a quick ponytail.
            “The sooner the better,” Sara answered determinedly as she turned her flashlight on. The driver’s side door was sticky and Sara had to yank harshly on it to get it to open. The warped metal protested with a groan and pop has she finally forced the door all the way open.
            “The VIN on the dash is obliterated,” Sara informed Nick as she shined her light across the dash.
            Nick looked up from his position on the passenger side floor board. Shining his light in the direction of Sara’s he said, “Well I can probably get it off the engine block.”
            Most criminals were not as clever as they thought they were. The fire had gutted the front half of the interior of the truck but car manufacturers placed their vehicle identification numbers in various locations, making Sara and Nick’s job easier than most would think.
            “Look at this,” Sara pointed her flashlight in the direction of the steering wheel “the air bag didn’t deploy because there was no airbag.”
            “Removed?” Nick asked.
            Sara gave him a knowing look. “Air bags are expensive…if you’re trying to save on your deductible…”
            “Don’t replace the airbag,” Nick concluded.
            Sara answered with a raised eyebrow and pointed index finger. “This truck’s been in an accident before…something that set the front airbag off.”
            ‘If the VIN doesn’t pan out that could help us out,” Nick added as he looked under the passenger seat.
            Sara could sense there was something on Nick’s mind, she could almost hear the motors running as he tried to busy himself with swabbing the back seat for blood trace.
            “What is it?” she asked mildly amused.
            Nick looked up from what he was doing, a slight look of shock passing over his features as if he thought he had been very clever at hiding his thoughts. He should have known better then to think Sara wouldn’t pick up on his questing mind. She doesn’t have the second highest solve record for no reason, he thought amusedly.
            “Aww, you know how it is. Mind’s been a wanderin’ lately, with everything that’s been going on,” he explained in his most charming Texas drawl. “I just…do you…what’s up with you and Grissom?”
            Sara was thankful her head was down below the seat. She doubted seriously that she would have been able to hide her stunned and telling reaction had she been facing Nick. “Me and Grissom?”
            Sara could sense Nick trying to steal a look at her over the seat but chose to remain hidden for the moment. Her momentary retreat giving her the opportunity to catch a glimpse of what looked to be melted plastic between the seat and the seatbelt. Grabbing up her tweezers, Sara attempted to remove the piece of evidence without damaging it.
            “Yea, you two seem…closer… lately,’ Nick muttered turning his attention to the rear of the vehicle.
            “Well…he’s a friend, he needs help right now,” Sara tried to explain vaguely, hoping it would appease Nick. She and Grissom had both agreed to keep their relationship a secret from the lab. It was a kind of have your cake and eat it too sort of deal but what was easy to agree to months and months ago was steadily becoming more difficult.
            “Yea, I…do you think Grissom is going to be okay?” Nick asked as he dusted the handle to rear doors. The fire had consumed the front half of the truck but had been a little less effective towards the rear. Although the likelihood of lifting a useful print was almost zero, Nick prided himself on being thorough.
            Sara stood up and placed the blackened piece of plastic in an evidence bag, her eyes held a far away look as she pondered Nick’s question. His physical wounds were healing. The stitches had been removed and aside from the puncture wounds, the physical scars would be barely visible. It was the invisible scars that were raw and exposed that Sara worried about.
            Sara still couldn’t get Grissom to sleep on a regular basis and even when she did get him to sleep; it was only a few hours at a time. His nightmares were becoming more and more pronounced to the point where they seemed to be invading his waking hours. He had confessed to Sara that he could hear a girl crying or screaming all the time, in the back of his mind like some forgotten sidebar replaying over and over again.
            Sara had wondered if it was Kimmi’s screams that Grissom heard echoing in his subconscious. She had wanted to ask him about her, talk to him and console him about the young girl. Sara had wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault and that there had been nothing he could have done to safe her but she couldn’t. She was ashamed to admit it but Sara Sidle had gone coward.
            “I think Gris is going to need all our help, especially when this is all over,” Sara said gravely.
            Nick agreed with a solemn nod as he opened the rear door and shone his light into the back. “Hey Sara, check this out.”
            Sara placed her evidence on the work table nearby and rounded the back of the truck. Looking into the back of the truck, Sara’s eyes grew wide. The beam of light emanating from Nick’s flashlight sparkled back at them like a disco ball.
            “Silica?” Sara asked uncertain.
            “Maybe,” Nick answered a grin growing on his face at the prospects this clue may hold for them. “Didn’t you and Catherine have a case that involved an abandon silica mine?”
            Nick’s grin was infectious as it spread across Sara’s face. “Yes-we-did,” Sara answered as she grabbed a scalpel and collection vial and scraped some of the shiny substance into the clear plastic tube. Snapping the lid shut, Sara glanced at Nick. “Let’s see what Hodges says about it.”