Rating: FRT, to be safe, for Grissom's dialogue
Summary: What might have happened in the half hour or so after fade-to-black at the end of ' Pirates of The Third Reich '. Grissom rescues Heather, then makes sure her daughter's killer gets a few things straight.
The woman in his arms finally jerked her head up, looking as if she was able to comprehend what he was telling her. "Good... listen to me, okay? You need to go get in the car."
"Heather, you have to. I can fix this, but I need to make sure you're safe first."
"Fix it?! Nobody can fix it!" she yelled, pulling away from his embrace.
"I don't mean Zoey. I understand that can't be healed... but this... this situation I can handle. I'm begging you to let what happened between us go, just for a little while... long enough for me to help. Please let me do this for you..."
Heather shook her head slightly then half turned to glower at the ravaged man behind her. Gil tensed, prepared to pull her away as many times as it took, but to his relief she merely finished her turn and stumbled backwards until she stood beside him. "Thank you. C'mon, let's get you out of here." He told her, tugging her gently toward his car. When she was securely buckled into the passenger's seat, he moved to the back, opened his kit and retrieved a fresh pair of gloves. As he strode back to where Sneller was still tied to the car, Grissom absently stretched the material over his hands as he'd done a thousand times before; so many times he barely devoted any thought to the process. All his faculties were targeted on the words he was about to say. They had to be right, they had to be harsh and they had to be convincing or someone he loved would be taken from him and he couldn't allow that to happen.
Dropping to one knee in the glare of the headlights, Grissom reached out and tipped up the murderer's chin so that their eyes met.
"Can you hear me?"
"Y-yes... God, help me... u-untie me..."
"I'm not here for you. I'm doing this because a very good woman was committing an act against her morals and against her conscience. I had to stop her... save her before she completely crossed the line. In a few minutes, I am going to untie you and eventually I'll send for help... but first you and I need to come to an understanding. I've seen your house. I found the trapdoor to the cellar. The police know what depravity went on down there... and so do I. I can't begin to understand the reasoning behind the things you did and I don't want to. My point... is that anything that grieving mother did to you out here tonight was more than earned. Therefore, in return for me not letting you die half naked, injured and alone in the desert the way Zoey Kessler did... you will agree never to say anything about this to anyone."
The killer's eyes narrowed and defiance blazed there, indicating his attitude more clearly than words could have. "Really. I don't have to leave you in the desert. You see, in addition to being a criminalist, I'm also an entomologist. That means I study insects. I know where they are... and I know which ones decimate a human body fastest. That's not to say you'll be dead when they start feasting. Wounded, absolutely... but not dead, and without any of the medication you forced on Zoey and the others. Death could take a while. In the meantime, you'll be finding out what it was like to be one of your victims. In pain like you never knew existed, pleading with God to help you get free... and knowing there's no chance it'll happen. So. You'll forget Zoey's mother was ever here. You were blindfolded. You never saw your assailant. Whoever it was never said a word. Nod if we have a deal."
Gradually, the bleeding man displayed his assent. "Good. Oh, and since I also head one of the finest forensic teams in the country, if you decide to betray me... you'd better believe I'll find you wherever you run and the penalties I described automatically go into effect."
Only minutes later, the car the killer was tied to had been wiped down and cleaned thoroughly, the beaten man had been released and the car unceremoniously backed away, removing his physical support and leaving him to sprawl on his back in the dirt. Gil drove the car several hundred yards away, shut it off and walked back to his own headlights, pulling out his cell phone. As he talked, he bound the man's eyes, hands and feet tightly with duct tape.
"Jim... yeah, I found him just off the highway about two miles west of the house. He's been badly beaten. He'll need medical help. No, nobody else was here. I can't. I need to find Heather. No, she's my priority right now. I'm sorry you feel that way. It doesn't change what I have to do. It'll take you about ten or twelve minutes to get here. Trust me, he'll survive until then."
Grissom closed his phone, returned it to his pocket, got back into his car and drove away.