Revenge Is A Seven Lettered Phrase: Kill Ari
So go on and scream
Scream at me, I’m so far away
I won’t be broken again
I’ve got to breathe, I can’t keep going under
The tranquil scene in the squadroom had been replaced by chaos in the time it took Jethro Gibbs to run from the elevator back to his desk. He’d called Abby and ordered both her and McGee back upstairs, making them worry because this was Gibbs and he never gave them enough details. Kate took everything in, viewing with an outsiders eye because she was just too numb to understand what exactly was happening to them.
She was aware that Abby was frantically dialling Ducky’s number, while Gibbs stood over her shoulder and McGee typed away at the computer to trace his cell and find out where he was. She could have pointed out to them that he was probably on his way home, but she kept her mouth shut; it was that feeling of emptiness that stopped her doing anything. It was the thought that she could have ended all this long before it started that had her doubting her worth as an agent.
When Abby eventually got through to Ducky, though it was his voicemail, she took the tactful approach, telling him they were worried and that he should call and then Gibbs jumped in, his typical bear with a sore head attitude thrown out the window and yelled down the phone line.
“I said no one was to leave the building! No one includes you, Doctor Mallard!”
“We’re worried including Gibbs…”
Gibbs terminated the call before Abby had a chance to complete her sentence, leaving her to complete it with “or he wouldn’t be yelling.” to a room that wasn’t entirely listening to her. Kate had been battling with herself throughout the entire call, with whether or not she should add her two cents to the conversation. If she did, Gibbs could turn his anger on her, knowing full well she wouldn’t take it and would probably blow up in his face again, but she took the chance anyway.
“Look Gibbs, it’s not Ducky’s fault, okay? He probably finished up in autopsy on auto pilot and then just drove himself home the same way.”
Gibbs was about to say something, most likely laced with anger, when McGee cut in with some new information; twenty three minutes earlier, a call had come into autopsy and that he was in the process of tracing the number. It seemed he typed faster than he ever had in his life to get the number of the person who had called him, and was possibly the reason Ducky had left so abruptly.
When Gibbs started pacing back and forth between the desks, his impatience growing, Kate reached out to him and asked for help getting her sling back on. Doing something instead of waiting would make him focus on what he had to do, get his priorities in order and by the time he’d worked everything out and got Kate back into her sling, he wouldn’t have to wait. At least, that’s what Kate hoped would happen; she may have been married to the man, but she still had a hard time reading him, especially in moments like this.
“Boss, that call came from Gerald Jackson’s cell phone!”
Gerald Jackson had been Ducky’s right hand man for almost three years, having joined the agency a few months prior to Tony. He was one of the few who could tolerate Ducky’s anecdotes and understood Abby’s eccentric ways. He’d been happy with his job, and the people he worked with; even if their methods, techniques and behaviour were occasionally questionable. It all changed one evening in March, one that everyone remembered. Kate and Gibbs because they finally admitted the truth to each other, Tony because Gibbs considered him his right hand man. Abby because if it hadn’t been for her fear, she would’ve been in Kate’s place going through everything she did instead of helping to get them out. Ducky remembered having to do emergency repairs on his assistant.
Since that night, Gerald had to take time out for surgery to fix the nerve damage caused by a nine mil bullet being shot into his shoulder at point blank range. The surgery and several blood transfusions was followed by weeks spent in a hospital bed to recover from being shot, from surgery and a minor infection that added an extra week of time to his stay at Bethesda, getting pumped full of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs. The final step was physiotherapy to get full motility back in his shoulder. His nurse, Collette, was sweet and she pushed him as far as his limits would allow; he’d been seeing her for nearly a year now. He was almost fully healed and had average movement, but when the weather was rough outside, he tended to seize up.
Ducky had been the most regular visitor during his stay in hospital, keeping him updated on the team, bemoaning the loss of such a promising agent Chris Pacci, and further bemoaning the lack of decent assistants that were being sent his way, quickly pointing out none were as competent as Gerald himself. Kate had visited once or twice, accompanied by Abby or Tony and Gibbs had visited a few times along with Ducky to see if he could remember anything about the night he was shot. Once Gerald had finally been released from hospital and back in his own apartment, the visits became less frequent as the cases began rolling in, although Abby kept a weekly diary of everything that happened in his time out and sent it to, but even that stopped. Gerald began to feel that everyone had forgotten about him, but clearly one person kept him in mind.
What they couldn’t understand was why Gerald was calling Ducky in the first place, let alone at this time of night. The phone call was only a few minutes long and Abby was the only person who could cover every piece of vital information in that length of time.
“Maybe he heard about what happened on the roof and he called Ducky.”
“They’re in a pub somewhere, reliving the old days.”
“Yes!”
Gibbs didn’t like it, but he didn’t like a lot of things where his agents were concerned, especially when there was a madman hell bent on destroying their lives. McGee and Abby’s theory, while it was certainly plausible, it wasn’t very likely. Not a lot of people knew of what had happened in the past few days other than agents and Kate’s family. It was possible there were rumours floating around, but in the time Gibbs had known Gerald, he didn’t seem to be the type to listen to scuttlebutt.
“Call Gerald.”
McGee picked up his handset and dialled the number that was on the screen. He heard it ring for a few times before it went to voicemail. He hung up and redialled and the same happened again. Abby was pacing back and forth, stating that they probably couldn’t hear their phones because they were in a pub.
“I’m getting voicemail. Do you want to leave a message?”
“No. Get a GPS fix.”
McGee hung up and got back to typing, faster than he had been so Gibbs didn’t get anymore angry than he was. Kate shared a look with Abby as Gibbs hovered over McGee, making sure he was doing things fast enough for him. Both women knew when to back off and leave Gibbs to it, but even this was new to them. They could understand why he was angry Ducky had just gone while there was a mad terrorist on the loose, but Ari was going after the women in Gibbs’ life, there was no real reason that they understood for him go after Ducky.
In between the sidetracking and the reasoning, McGee managed to locate the location of Gerald’s cell phone, placing him on a residential street in Georgetown and quickly followed it up by finding Ducky’s cell in the same location. Abby was ready to say that they were in a pub together, but Gibbs cut her off before she got started. Heading to his desk, Gibbs noticed the look that Kate gave and he tried his best to keep his face as calm as possible, but she seen right through it. Holstering his weapon, he gave her a reassuring look before beginning to head for the elevators.
“Want me to go with you, Boss?”
“No. Tony’s out. Stay here with Kate and Abby, don’t let them out of your sight.”
Kate turned as much as she could so she could track his movement, much like she had done last year after their impromptu coffee meeting and tried to read him. She couldn’t get it out her head, that for someone who was so set about his rules being followed to the letter, he sure was one for breaking them.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Roughly fifteen minutes after pulling out of the parking lot at the NCIS building, Gibbs found himself screeching down the dark deserted street of Olive and twenty-ninth, looking for Ducky’s Morgan. The rain, which had stopped, had come back on late in the afternoon and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. The second he stepped out the car, Gibbs was drenched; looking up and down the street, there were no lights, no cars and no people. If Ari had still been on the street, he would’ve made his presence known by now, or at least have tried to kill him already.
He’d been on the phone with McGee the entire journey, being told exactly where Ducky and Gerald were on the street, but now that he was there the call seemed rather redundant. He thought they might have moved on, gone back to their respective homes but McGee told him they were still on the street. When McGee got a fix on his phone, Gibbs was standing right there with them but there was still no one in sight. McGee was beginning to sound almost desperate, it was in his voice when he told Gibbs they had to be there and then Abby came on the line asking about pubs. Really, he was two seconds away from throwing his phone to the ground, but chose instead to vent his frustration by yelling at his favourite forensic scientist and listen as she walked away from the handset on McGee’s desk. He felt bad for getting angry at her, it wasn’t Abby’s fault Ducky had decided to go AWOL and get them all worried.
“How accurate is this fix, McGee?”
“Within twenty-five meters.”
Gibbs hung up and grabbed the flashlight from the car, hoping it would catch something his fading eyesight couldn’t. From where he parked, he headed in a straight line across the road to where the bushes lined the street between the road and the park. He scanned the ground meticulously for any sign that Ducky or Ari had been there, and it came in the form of a bullet hole in a discarded can of beer.
Then his conscience raised her head again.
“It’s going to happen again, isn’t it? Ducky’s going to take a bullet for you.”
He’d thought he’d gotten rid of her after he’d sought Kate out in autopsy. He thought that Nightmare Kate had gone once he’d comforted Kate. Clearly he was wrong. What he didn’t understand about his conscience, was that it came in the form of his wife, if anything he thought it would be a rather more talkative version of Ducky, or even his father. But Kate, and a dead Kate at that? Even though he couldn’t see her this time, he knew she was there, nipping at his head and making him feel more guilty than he was. He also knew that it would be the same image as before which made him all the more determined not to seek her out.
“He won’t kill Ducky.”
He certainly seemed sure of this, but could he be sure if he ventured farther into the park he wouldn’t come across the bullet ridden corpses of Ducky and his former assistant? His conscience picked up on this, and he couldn’t help but listen to what was being said because for all the uncertainties he was facing, it seemed like the only answer.
“Why not? Because you couldn’t live with the guilt? Maybe Ari knows that. Maybe that’s his plan. Maybe the only way to save Ducky, Abby, and McGee…is to kill yourself.”
His mind flashbacked several years to the day he got word of Shannon and Kelly; to visiting their graves, and then later to sitting with his gun in his hands and the contemplation he had of putting the barrel in his mouth and pulling the trigger. Only he knew of this minor incident, not even Ducky or Kate. He flashed forward to standing in his bathroom with Kate and listening to her explain why they should both just end their lives then and there, instead of waiting for Ari to do it for them. Once more he remembered, this time it was to meeting Ari at the coffee shop. Ari telling him that in order for his job to be done, Gibbs had to die and then asking what Gibbs would do if he had the same problem. He’d responded without a second thought, that he’d kill himself.
He certainly had the option to do it, he had the weapon and he had the perfect scapegoat. Gibbs had investigated enough suicides to know how to make it look like murder, and even if it was discovered to have been self inflicted, Ducky would put murder in the cause of death section on his death certificate. His team would be struck with guilt and they would grieve, but only once they’d tracked down his killer. Only after they’d got Ari for inflicting more pain on them. Ari would defend himself, swear he had nothing to do with it; if he had, why use Gibbs’ own weapon? Why not use a sniper rifle like he had done at the warehouse?
It was a stupid idea, and if Kate ever found out he’d considered it more than once she’d shoot him herself. Ignoring the guilt and his Kate shaped conscience, who had vanished again, Gibbs pulled his phone from his pocket and called Ducky’s number. He heard it ring twice on his end before he heard the tinny, polyphonic tune of “Scotland the Brave” from somewhere down the tree line. He followed the sound until he found the phone, which by now had stopped ringing since he’d hung up, and presumed the phone next to it belonged to Gerald. It came of little relief to find their phones and not their bodies like he’d thought, but it still meant that Ari was somewhere with Ducky and Gerald.
Giving the park one last look, Gibbs pocketed the phones he found before pulling out his own and calling the office to give them an update. Hopefully, Abby would have gotten over the idea that they were together in a pub somewhere and that her Caf-Pow high had plummeted.
“Special Agent McGee.”
“I found Ducky and Gerald’s cell phone in the park.”
“Why would they leave their cell phones in the park?”
If it weren’t for the fact Gibbs was no where near him at the moment, McGee would have received a very hard head slap for asking such a stupid question. It wasn’t the first time he regretted adding Tim to his team, but he brought something that no one else had and pushed the thought aside.
“Do you want me to come down there?”
“If I wanted you to come down here, I would have told you so. Put a BOLO out on Ducky’s Morgan. Get his license plate from his file.”
The only sound was McGee typing away on the keyboard, before Abby came on the line stating the facts that they already knew, but said it in a certain way because she knew the damage Ari was capable of. He could picture her, ringing her hands or fidgeting with her pigtails. Kate would be rubbing her back and telling her they’d be fine and that Ari wouldn’t harm Ducky if he knew what was good for him. If he was there with them, he’d pull his girls into his arms and promise them both, again, that he’d fix it.
“They’re not dead, Abs.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Ari dumped their cell phones in the park, not their bodies.”
There was silence again and Gibbs figured it was because they were letting his statement sink in until he heard a collective intake of breath and then McGee, sounding unsure of what he was seeing in front of him, telling Gibbs that Gerald was standing in the office.
“Ari’s got Doctor Mallard.”
“How’d you get away?!”
“I didn’t. Ari let me go.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
McGee and Abby were sat on the edge of their seats, listening to Gerald as he told them what had happened when he left the chemist and everything that followed Ducky arriving. Kate had given up halfway through the story, one of the many lots of medication kicking in, and had fallen asleep in Gibbs chair. Abby would look over periodically, just to make sure Kate was as asleep as she seemed; she’d hate for her friend to be listening to what was being said, all the while knowing that there was nothing she could do to get Ducky back. She also wondered why Kate wasn’t in as much pain as she had been, and how she was able to sleep so easily with everything that was going on. If it was her, she’d not close her eyes for fear of nightmares, but Kate had no trouble.
When Gibbs came off the elevator, phone to his ear and arguing with whomever was on the other end, probably Fornell or Tony, everyone was silenced and waited to find out what Gibbs was going to do. At first he didn’t pay attention to them, focusing both on his phone and the sleeping brunette at his desk. He’d give anything to get her out of there and into her own bed, even just for a few hours, but knew that was out of the question as long as Ari was still on the streets.
There wasn’t much to tell Gibbs, other than Ari picked up Gerald to force Ducky into a meet, for what reason he wasn’t sure. He’d warned the man not to come, cause he felt certain Ari would kill him on sight, but Ducky made the decision to go as Gibbs told him. Gibbs hadn’t been in the building more than ten minutes before he was making his way back to the elevator to meet Tony at the Embasero hotel to find out what he got on Ziva. Kate would be fine where she was for now, and he didn’t leave any orders with McGee to watch her because he figured the younger agent would know by now. Abby ran after him, talking about garbled cellphone conversations and grabbing his attention by using phonetics, like he’d asked.
“Golf-India-bravo-bravo-Sierra? Can I please go back to my lab? I’m flipping out up here with nothing to do.”
In the way Kate needed touch to reaffirm she was alive, Abby needed to work. She would hype herself up on Caf-Pow and proceed to test evidence or track car tyres. In extreme cases, when there were bullets involved like now, she’d lock herself away in ballistics and fire off more than the necessary rounds she needed to compare for exclusion purposes or to match. Her lab was her safe haven, and despite having had it shot through earlier, she was more than happy to return to it.
This was just one more problem Gibbs didn’t need added to his plate. He had an injured and emotionally spent wife with whom he hadn‘t had a chance to spend any amount of quality time with to find out how she really was, instead of believing the facade; one of his best agents out in the field, tailing a woman he knew nothing about, but enough to know that she was dangerous and needed to be watched carefully; he had the new director wanting him to ignore everything he knew to be true; and now he had his favourite forensic scientist wanting to go back downstairs, alone, all the while risking another possible sniper attack.
God, would he kill for a day of normalcy.
“Okay, but don’t leave…”
“Don’t leave the building, I know.”
By the time the conversation was over, the elevator doors were closing, and Abby was standing on the other side giving him a goodbye wave and telling him “bye” in phonetics.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Standing under the awning at the Embasero hotel, Tony could do nothing but watch the rain fall hard on the dark road. He had time to think things through here, without the distraction of Ziva David in her swim suit or her scantily clad friend. What kind of idiot was he; part of a nudist colony, that was the best he could come up with? He was slipping. A couple of years ago he had no problem in coming up with a cover story; calling himself Stringfellow, having an imaginary dog when he was on the run as a convict knowing that Gibbs and Kate weren’t far behind him. A couple of years ago, he didn’t have the near death of one of his closest friends lingering over him.
He’d had some kind of psychobabble moment earlier, when he was watching Ziva in the pool. He knew it wasn’t real, because Kate was currently tucked away from the world at the office, and she certainly wasn’t wearing that. Her catholic school uniform. He’d nearly died when he seen her reflection in the window, and honestly thought he’d somehow died in the time he’d left the office. He’d tried ignoring her, but it was just like Kate to pick at him and make him pay attention to her. At times when she was having petty arguments with him, he could see her at five years old with a pouting lip because she wasn’t getting her way or the attention she felt she deserved; and then he could see her daughter. She’d be the spitting image of her mother, and have that pout when things didn’t go her way.
Eventually, he’d paid attention to her, and standing in the doorway now he couldn’t help but smile as the memory of his imagined conversation with Kate, in that damn uniform. He knew it had been a figment of his imagination, likely brought on by stress. To anyone passing him in the hall, they would’ve thought he was crazy, talking to himself about the kind of woman that does or doesn’t intimidate Anthony DiNozzo, and how divorce attorney’s were worse than mothers when it came to intimidation.
The problem Tony had when it came to psychoanalysing, was that it never worked with him. Sure, he could run through a mental list of his problems and work out what was wrong with or bothering him, but when it came to actually defining the feelings that went along with that, he couldn’t do it. Doing it to other people was far easier, because it meant he didn’t have to confront his personal demons until he was alone and had time to actually think about them. Like now.
He looked upon it as keeping his mind clear and focused on the task at hand. Thinking about something else made the important details of what he’d learned sharper and more memorable. If he was going to be serious about analysing his life and figuring out how the hell he’d ended up where he was, he’d have to go back several years. Ideally, he’d like to blame his father for the way he’d turned out, but not all of it was down to DiNozzo senior. His mother had played her part, creating several scarring memories on his life; like the recurring vampire nightmare. Still, she’d dressed him up in a sailor suit and he ended up investigating naval crimes so she wasn’t all bad.
His father on the other hand. Tony figured with everything he had put up with through childhood and even part of his adult life, he’d be a psychologists dream subject. He could talk about his father until he was blue in the face and sill not have a clearer image as to why he was put through the things he was, and witnessed what he did.
Fortunately, Gibbs called and saved him the hardship of psycho babbling himself to death; it was surprising how he used to think Gibbs timing always came at the worst possible moment and was now thankful for it.
The information Tony had discovered was just one of the best things that had happened since Ari entered their world; it further convinced Gibbs that Ziva was in communication with Ari and that she knew where he was. The fact she was planning his escape meant she had no intention of waiting around for the investigation to conclude or have herself proven right of her belief Ari was innocent. The way in which Tony had learned about the fake passport Ziva had passed to her friend was of no concern to Gibbs; he’d sent his senior field agent, who was always thinking about woman, on the tail of someone he’d describe as being pretty. It stood to reason that with Tony’s inability to ignore anything female, especially a pretty female, he wouldn’t lose Ziva in a crowd.
He was partially correct.
He regretted asking for a description of the woman Ziva had been with, as this prompted Tony to give a detailed account of her. Tony’s best ability was being able to make accurate measurements after even a passing glance at a person. He’d heard through Ducky that he’d shown off those skills when they had first met Kate, and measured a swimsuit model on the cover of a magazine. Kate’s comment about measuring swimsuit models made much more sense after that. According to his senior field agent, the girl, as he described her, looked enough like Ziva to be her sister, and was real pretty.
“Maybe she is. Mossad’s like the Mafia. One big happy family.”
Ziva’s family history was of no concern to Gibbs either. Whether the pretty girl in the white tracksuit was Ziva’s sister or not didn’t matter. What did matter was that she had Ari’s escape plan in her pocket courtesy of Ziva. Another phone call to McGee, and another brief want of slapping the boy for his thoughtlessness, Gibbs had had enough. The pizza he’d hijacked from the nightshift, to make up for Tony being on his feet for several hours and not getting a break, was being devoured quickly beside him. There were two things Gibbs could rely on Tony for; his occasional brainwaves and his insatiable Italian appetite.
They sat in the car, which remained quite other than for when Gibbs placed a call to McGee, giving him the information of Ari’s fake passport. Gibbs, if he was anyone other than who he was, would thank Tony for what he’d done both on the rooftop and everything since; he didn’t have to do any of that for Kate. Or for him. If he could just find it in him to tear down the gruff façade he’d built over the years, and thank his friend for saving his wife, then he would and God knows he wanted to. He just didn’t know how it would be received, though. It wasn’t every day your hard ass Marine boss turned to you and said ‘thanks’ and Gibbs was pretty sure he’d send Tony to an early grave if he ever did say it seriously and mean it. He was about to say it, the words were ready on his tongue and halfway to being spoken when Tony looked out the window and spotted the girl that had been with Ziva at the pool.
Tony had seen, out the corner of his eye, that Gibbs was struggling with something and that it probably related to him. It was the same look Kate had on her face just before she thanked him, and he’d found it hard to accept then from her, so he had no idea how to accept it from his boss. He knew how Gibbs operated; after working with the man for three and a half years it’d be hard not to. He had his rules, and he probably had his mantras. There were four things he never said, one of which he believed to be a weakness. The three others had their various reasons attached but Tony had a fair idea as to why; he didn’t like begging, he didn’t like people knowing he was grateful to them, and he had a hard time being grateful in return.
If Tony ever said ‘thank you’ after Gibbs saving his life, he’d get a snappy comment in return and the entire conversation would be forgotten. If Gibbs ever said ‘thank you’ to him, which he was trying to do now despite thinking that the thanks should be assumed, the conversation would never be forgotten. If he was a spiteful man which despite all appearances he wasn’t, Tony would probably have it broadcasted on ‘Ripley’s Believe It Or Not’.
“Boss, that’s her.”
“Stay with Ziva.”
“What if this girl’s meeting Ari? I mean, you’re going to need backup. Let me rephrase that.”
“Out!”
Tony closed his pizza box and was out the car in a shot, standing on the sidewalk waiting until Gibbs had driven off after the yellow Congress Cab before returning to the doorway of the hotel. He figured if it weren’t for his expensive shoes, he’d have been asked to move along by the staff. Knowing that the almost conversation between him and Gibbs remained almost, made doing what he was doing easier because his boss wasn’t struggling to tell him something he already knew.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was a scenario from an action movie, and all Gibbs could do was curse DiNozzo upside down for relating every case to a film. And quoting them and coming up with his own harebrained scenarios. If he ever heard, ’this reminds me of a movie’ ever again, he’d slap him silly.
He’d stayed a safe distance behind the cab, letting one car in between them to keep himself covered, but never letting it out of his sight. This was the moment he’d been waiting for and now he had it, Gibbs wasn’t going to let it slip out of his reach.
They continued on for four, maybe five streets and by now they were the only two cars on the road in a quiet residential area. If the girl in the cab had any idea that she was being followed, she never let on. If she did know, then she would tell the driver to stop or to change directions, where to make a turn to throw him off the scent.
He was so close to reaching his goal, to coming face to face with Ari that he could taste the revenge in his mouth. The distance between his car and the cab was now equal to that of two cars, because Gibbs didn’t want to take a chance with this and have her realise she was being followed and lead them somewhere else. Ari probably had her well trained for events like this and she’d be able to lose him easily.
The vintage Morgan driving in the opposite direction down the street was what pulled his attention from the cab in front. It was Ducky’s and the last he knew, Ducky was with Ari. In a moment of fight or flight, Gibbs swerved in the middle of the road and hit the brakes hard and got out with his gun in hand, while the Morgan pulled to a calm stop just a hair’s breadth from the side of the dodge. The echo of screeching tyres could still be heard on the now almost empty street, but with the following echo of Gibbs shouting Ari’s name while keeping his gun trained on the drivers side of the Morgan. When the door opened and the driver began to get out, Gibbs readied his weapon for the kill.
“Good grief, Jethro. Put that weapon down. I’ve had enough excitement for tonight. Ari abducts me, Gerald strips my gears and now you play chicken on a wet street.”
Gibbs complied and lowered his weapon, asking of Ari’s whereabouts. Ducky told him that they had parked down the street, and then Ari had received a phone call which apparently told him all he needed to know, before telling Ducky to drive down the road for ten minutes and exiting the vehicle; the damn bastard played the once again. Of course Ari knew Gibbs was coming, because it seemed Ari knew everything where his team was concerned. As Gibbs pulled out his cell to call McGee again, he wondered if the poor boy was sick and tired of his desk phone ringing off the hook yet, especially when he was rarely allowed a word in edgewise.
“McGee! Congress Cab number seventeen picked up a female fare at the Embasero Hotel ten minutes ago. If he’s en route, I need his twenty. If he’s dropped of his fare, then get me an address. And take the BOLO off Ducky’s Morgan. He’s safe.”
He hung up without waiting for a response and half listened as Ducky stated their paths hadn’t crossed by accident. It was almost similar to last year when Kate had been taken; both hostages had been freed without serious harm brought to them, although Gibbs debated that point when he remembered Kate’s bruised arms and split lip, not to mention the surprising lack of nightmares he was sure would plague her. There had been a diversion in place to throw them off the scent; one came in the form of a blonde female for Tony to chase and the other came in the form of Ducky. Logically, Gibbs should have known it was a setup from the beginning, because Ari’s modus operandi was setting people up; Ducky had been taken to get Gibbs off the tail of Ziva’s possible sister.
“What’d you talk about?”
“Well, my Morgan for a while. He was surprisingly knowledgeable. Then Edinburgh Medical School. Yeah, we were both alumni, a few decades apart…”
“Anything important, Ducky?”
Gibbs, who had been pacing the road in front of Ducky, stopped what he was doing and stood still. Both men looked at each other, Gibbs trying to find the truth in Ducky’s eyes despite knowing the man never would and probably couldn’t lie to him in the first place. Ducky was looking for a way to tell Gibbs, the man who was like a son to him, that he partially believed what Ari had told him that night. He knew he shouldn’t listen to a word of what he’d been told, but it was hard when it was laid out the way Ari had described.
“He swore he didn’t shoot at Caitlin. Made a very logical and passionate defense.”
“You believe him?”
“He was very persuasive. Said he knows you’ll never believe him and that it’s a shame that one of you has to die. He’s arrogantly confident that it won’t be him; but on the off chance that it is, to keep looking for Caitlin’s attempted killer.”
“He’s a slick bastard, Duck. But he’s right. One of us is going to die.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
The sight Kate had woken to was both depressing and calming at the same time. It seemed these days, specifically this week, there were only a handful of places she felt completely calm and safe in, and work was one of them. Truth be told, she was depressed over the fact she was spending yet another night at work, when she could be at home, curled up with a glass of wine and a good book, or out at some bar with her friends.
Her social life had certainly gone out the window once she joined NCIS, but she wasn’t exactly a social pariah; she still had her friends outside of work who, schedules permitting, she managed to spend the odd night with. On one of those rare occasions, Gibbs had even joined her and wowed her friends.
Originally, she had planned to go out tonight, but with someone trying to kill her a couple of days ago she’d had to cancel that little rendezvous in favor of being the unsociable workaholic who slept at her desk under a mountain of paperwork. Even if Ari had been killed days ago, she still wouldn’t have been able to enjoy herself, what with the fact she was half crippled and rattling with painkillers. She would certainly put a dampener on the evening.
Her head was fuzzy and none of her thoughts were entirely clear yet, so Kate waited until she could actually form a coherent thought before seeing who was about that may offer her some form of conversation. The fuzziness was a residual effect of the medication she was on; an effect which she hadn’t been informed of. The only thing she knew was that it killed her pain and knocked her out for a few good hours, so she wasn‘t entirely concerned for the fact everything in her mind was dulled; it was better than thinking about the reasons she was doped up in the first place.
Unlike the last time she had woken in the very same chair, there were no sounds of an office coming to life. She was met with stony silence in every direction she looked, if she didn’t count the rain that was battering against the glass panes of the windows and skylight, and a haunting depiction of how her life was set to play for however long it took for them to take down Ari. The silence was broken by the printer next to McGee’s desk starting up, and Kate turned her attention away from the water streaked windows to the desk opposite.
He’d been so silent she hadn’t even realised he was actually there. The last thing she remembered was Gerald coming back before she passed out in Gibbs’ seat; she automatically assumed with no Abby around, McGee had followed her back downstairs. Gibbs would be disappointed if he knew she was assuming things. She watched him covertly, under the guise of being asleep, as he went about his work on autopilot. Removing the document from the tray, scanning it quickly one last time before moving to the filing cabinet between his and Tony’s desks where it would be stored in one of their many files. The poor boy looked almost depressed. It was true that none of them much liked the paperwork that came along with their jobs, but McGee was always so eager to do something that would lead to him being a better field agent, even if it meant writers cramp and repetitive strain injury; it couldn’t have been that that was giving him that look.
Everyone had been so focused on her health and safety, it seemed they hadn’t taken the time to check in with each other. She had seen with her own eyes how out of sorts Gibbs was; Abby was acting like her normal self, but Kate could see it was just a cover. Abby was good at putting aside how she felt when it came to her work. Ducky was behaving relatively normal, even if he had been quieter the past few days.
And Tony had hugged her. A man she fought with on a daily basis and loved with all her heart hugged her against his body in a gesture that comforted both of them. He’d barely left her side all day, mostly due to what she suspected was a silent threat from Gibbs, and had waited on her hand and foot despite not needing to, and even went as far as massaging her leg when she got cramp in her calf. It was extremely out of character for him, but right now she wouldn’t have him any other way. It settled her somehow.
Kate wasn’t usually so self-centred. She knew at times she displayed narcissistic qualities but it was human nature; everyone had that one small flaw that caused them at times to focus solely on themselves instead of others around them and Kate’s was just coming out to play now. It was time she made amends for her attitude, and she was going to start with her fellow agent who looked like he may cry at any moment.
“Why haven’t you asked how I am yet?”
So much for not being selfish, she thought. She convinced herself it was just an icebreaker, just to get the conversation going and it worked a little too well.
McGee turned slowly from the filing cabinet to face the source of the voice, feeling his heart beating so fast in his chest he thought it might explode; after working in silence for an unknown amount of hours, her voice had been the last thing he’d expected to hear, let alone with an accusing lilt to it. His thoughts were crossing in his mind and he couldn’t keep track of them; one minute he was crouching down behind the car taking fire and the next he was seeing Kate’s body in the open drawer, talking to him like nothing happened, but having the obvious effects of being dead. The white sheet that covered her from the chest down, the empty eyes, lack of skin colour. Not to mention the bullet hole in her head. It was a dark comparison to his earlier visual, one that he wasn’t quite a stranger to. He realised a little belatedly, that he was likely suffering from post traumatic stress. He suspected they all were, and that they would each have their own shock induced hallucination, probably even Kate herself.
When he eventually worked up the courage to actually look at her, the first thing he did was look at her eyes just to make sure she was real, and not another figment of his highly over active imagination. There was so much energy and life in those eyes, even if they were clouded from her medication, that he wanted to drop everything and hold her, just to be doubly sure. He wanted to feel her heart beat and hear her breathing and just thank God that she was still with them.
Kate smiled slightly as she watched McGee struggling to find the appropriate words to say to her. Both knew there wasn’t anything he could say that hadn’t already been said, but at least he was trying.
“You don’t really have to say anything, you know. I was just breaking the silence.”
“And if I want to ask?”
“Nothing stopping you. But I can tell you, honestly, that I’m fine. I just really want a bubble bath and my bed.”
“And what about food; have you eaten anything recently?”
“I’ve not really been hungry. My last meal was that Chinese the other night.”
Kate fell silent as she realised what she’d just said. She knew how close she’d come to those words being true and the very thought turned her stomach. She couldn’t prevent her thoughts from wandering, playing events on the rooftop out differently, fast-forwarding through everyone’s grief, her funeral. She briefly wondered if she had died, how long it would be before Gibbs joined her, but that was a thought she didn’t spend much time on; he wasn’t a man who’d resort to suicide.
She came back from wherever her thoughts had taken her, when a chocolate chip muffin and can of soda were placed in front of her. Looking up, she realised that not only were people getting really good at invading her personal space when she was unaware, something which she needed to regain control of quickly; but also that McGee was looking at her in a way that said he knew she was far from being fine, but wasn’t going to say anything to contradict her.
“Don’t tell Tony. If he knew I kept a supply of cakes in my desk, he’d clear me out.”
“Every good hacker needs a sugar source. Your secret’s safe, as long as I can tap into some time.”
“Any time.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Tim.”
McGee knew Kate wasn’t actually going to eat his offering, if the way she was picking out the chocolate chips was any indication, but it was the thought that counted. He recalled bringing her food the last time they spoke of her encounters with Ari, and he decided it was time to be her shoulder again.
Wordlessly, he went back to his desk, placing down the document he’d forgotten he had and pulled out his chair, rolling it over to sit opposite Kate. It was the strangest case of déjà vu he’d ever experienced, but they both needed soundboards, and he was willing to be hers if she let him.
Their last conversation of this magnitude had been easier to navigate, since Kate brought the subject up first and he simply followed her lead. At the time, he’d had no prior involvement with Ari, other than finding out who he was, but now he had first hand experience with the mind games he liked to play, so he figured this conversation might be easier, or harder, depending how they looked on it.
“Are you having déjà vu?”
“A little bit. I brought you a snack the last time we spoke like this, so maybe it’s a sign. You can’t avoid talking about it forever, Kate, no matter how much you want to. You can tell me as much or as little as you want, but I don‘t think Gibbs would be that forgiving if you just ignored this ever happened.”
Kate dropped the chocolate chip she’d none too delicately removed from the cake and stared at McGee. She wondered when he’d got so insightful, or perhaps he’d always been like that and she’d just never noticed. How did he knew she’d refuse to talk about the shooting until it became too much for her to handle on her own, and then she’d have no choice but to talk. The little boy that came to work with them a few months ago had grown up and apparently she’d missed that transition.
Kate sighed and leant back in the chair, adjusting the sling under the neck of the sweatshirt. She knew talking to McGee would be less painful than having to rehash everything with the psychologist in a mandatory session, who would have no idea of just how deeply this had affected her. Reading case notes and profiles was nothing compared to actually having experience it first hand; at least McGee had a vague knowledge of the situation.
Tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling tiles and possibly summon the words to explain what she was feeling, thinking, she felt the sling dig into her neck and sighed again. The only reason she’d put it back on in the first place was because the weight of the cast was straining her shoulder; now she was sitting and had somewhere to rest her, she supposed it wouldn’t matter if she wore it or not.
She was digressing, she knew this. She was the one who wanted a conversation. She was the one supposedly thinking of how she was feeling, instead of letting herself just feel. She didn’t know when her life had become so complicated, but it wasn‘t as if she were going to revert back to uncomplicated any time soon. Kate decided that instead of thinking of what to say, she should just say anything, no matter how embarrassing, unthinkable or down right cruel it was.
“I can’t help thinking that this is what I was trained for, this used to be my job; protecting a person’s life. A breathing bullet proof vest. It’s not something you can think about, you just have to do it. I never once, in all my time in the Secret Service, ever took a bullet. I never once had to jump in front of a person to save them from death.”
“But you did on the roof top.”
“I just seen the gun and jumped. There was no thinking involved, I just acted, just the way I’d been trained to do. I hit the ground, and I could hear the gunfire and part of me was just waiting for Gibbs or Tony to be hit.”
“But they weren‘t.”
“That’s not the point. The point is that they could’ve been, especially if it had been Ari behind that door, then none of us would’ve been as lucky as we were. From where he was, he had the chance to take any one or all four of us out, and yet he zoned in on me. Even after he had taken that shot at you, he still came back to me.”
“You remember what I told you last year, about him testing you, making you prove your worth because he was intimidated by you?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s not doing that anymore. He’s testing us now. He knows how much you mean to us, and how we would all go to the ends of the Earth and back to make sure you were safe and loved. Gibbs is his main focus, always has been; Ari just knows that the only way of destroying Gibbs and tearing us all apart is through you.”
“Funny. Tony pretty much said the same thing.”
“Well, I must be right, since Tony always seems to think he is, wouldn’t you say?”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs gets closer to getting his revenge
Chapter End Notes:
4 months later and we hit the 3 part. Go me!