Gone
Some sunny day baby
When everything seems okay baby
You’ll wake up and find that you’re alone
Cause I’ll be gone, gone, gone, gone
Really gone, gone, gone, gone
His heart beats faster in his chest as he boards the elevator down to autopsy. He doesn’t want to believe what Ducky has told him over the phone, that he has a special case for him. A heart breaking case for him. He should’ve been more careful, more paranoid than he usually is. How could he be so careless?
When he arrives at autopsy, he sees the bag lying on the table still zipped up. Ducky is standing in the corner, his green overalls wrinkled, fresh tears marring his face. He watches as Ducky exhales a shuddering breath and bows his head. He can feel the fear in his stomach and knows it’s clearly expressed on his own face.
He takes five unsteady steps towards the table, his hands are shaking as he reaches out to open the bag, knowing what he finds inside will kill him. He’ll blame himself for as long as it takes to find him. Then no doubt he’ll blame the FBI, Tobias Fornell specifically. He looks back towards Ducky, seeking reassurance, but the man simply continues to bow his head, clearly heartbroken.
The sound of the zipper is like a shotgun echoing around the room and he peels back the black PVC covering. It’s not true. It can’t be true. He only seen her this morning. Laughing with him over breakfast.
He carefully removes the clear PVC sheet wrapped around the body and there before him is the face of his beautiful, smart Kate.
Her face is deathly pale in comparison to her usual vibrant colouring.
Her usual warm brown eyes are open, but are cold and empty.
Dead.
There’s no sign of pain on her face, no shock or worry and he knows she died instantly. Then again, a bullet through the head will do that.
He hears movement behind him and turns slightly. In the corner, replacing Ducky, is the one that got away. His eyes are bright and laughing at him. Mocking him. Laughing at his heartbreak. Eyes that are full of hate.
He will kill him.
*~*~*~*~*~*
He hears new voices; familiar voices. They rouse him from his sleep and as he opens his eyes he sees Abby and McGee standing over him. He doesn’t want to see Abby and McGee, he wants to see Kate. He seen her this morning, asleep in bed before he left to get a new start on tracking her captor from two months ago. They all know Gibbs won’t rest until he finds that man and kills him.
He listens half-heartedly to what McGee is telling him, something about a program to find that man that seems to have broken back into their lives.
He wants to get out of the building and find his Kate, touch her and hold her and reassure himself that she’s alive and with him. He grants McGee the hall pass he needs to stay in D.C. and leaves the two. He has to leave. He has to see her.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Kate Todd stands fourth in the cue at D.C. Beans waiting to order. She’s not paying attention to the news, more to the people around her. If anything all her training has taught her to be aware and so her gaze is constantly scanning the faces of those around her. When she had woken that morning, she was rather disappointed not to find herself safely ensconced in the arms of her boyfriend, but was instead alone in bed. His night had been disturbed, by what he wouldn’t tell her.
The man in front tries and fails to start up a conversation with her. He seems to believe that they work at the same NCIS agency, which Kate is slightly taken aback at. How many NCIS’s can there be in the world she thinks as he talks to her about actuarial analysis.
“What NCIS do you think I’m with?”
Her voice is light and her tone is that of disbelief, still wondering what hail and storm damage has to do with terrorists and dead naval officers. Her question is soon answered when the young man, she believes to be called John, tells her he’s with the National Crop Insurance Service. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stand on end, and knows the man she’s been longing to see is somewhere close by, but changes her mind when she realises the front door is wide open allowing the summer breeze to blow in.
*~*~*~*~*~*
From outside, Gibbs watches the patrons of the coffee house, trying to find one in particular. He spies her brunette hair through the crowd easily. The white skirt suit she’s wearing is tasteful, and suits her. Declaring her femininity but remaining professional. He’s yet unsure if this is the petite brunette agent his heart is longing for him to find but his fears are instantly set aside when he hears her voice above the bustling crowds. He smirks slightly and enters, doing his best to stay out of her line of sight. He watches as her shoulders tense slightly, a keen sign that she knows he’s here and waits patiently for a chance to jump into the conversation she’s having.
“National Crop Insurance Service.”
Spying his chance, Gibbs manoeuvred easily with the two coffee cups through the crowds towards her, brushing past her shoulder and dropping his own sentence into her conversation.
“That’s us. Oh, yeah. She’s a whiz on how corn loses affect the pork belly futures.”
She turns quickly as he passes and her eyes follow his every move before returning her attention to the young man from the agricultural department, bidding a swift goodbye.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The man at the table watched with the same intrigue that shone in Kate’s eyes as she walked towards him. He knew she had an overly curious nature, and gloried in the opportunity to make her stumble or blush. If there was one thing in the world that people found hard, it was making Caitlin Todd stumble over her words. Hard for anyone, except Gibbs. He knew just the right way to get her hot under the collar, or completely forget what she was saying and loved doing it to her when he had a chance.
There was a new look surrounding her now; she was going to defy him, although still not knowing what he was suggesting or offering, she was going to try and defy any kind of authority he brought to her morning place of caffeine sanctuary. He knew it and she knew and she did it, and done so by standing in front of him, refusing to sit and accept the coffee he’d bought for her, possibly as a pre-empted peace offering. He kicked the chair out, wanting her to sit even though he knew she’d wait and try to make him nervous, but she slid the tan bag from her shoulder none the less.
“How corn loses affect pork belly futures?”
The raised eyebrow, a glaringly obvious sign of her disbelief, together with her tone of voice made Gibbs love this woman even more. But didn’t know whether she was suspicious of him or of his actions and whether or not to be proud of her for that.
“Rule number seven. Always be specific when you lie.”
Kate smirked uncharacteristically, an almost carbon copy of his own, as she sat down and stared at the coffee cup in front of her. She pouted slightly and couldn’t help the small smile that crept over her lips. A new rule for my pillows, she thought.
“Why are you bringing me coffee from your caffeine dealer two blocks away? And don’t use rule seven.”
“You want that or not?”
Kate pondered for a moment, the smile of intrigue still firmly planted on her lips. In the year she’d worked with Gibbs, and since she’d been dating him he’d never once bought her coffee. Stealing a mouthful of hers, however, he’d done.
“I take my coffee with milk and sweetener.”
It was a matter of fact statement, that Gibbs knew, seeing as he had been making her morning coffee on a regular basis for the past two months. He had tried weaning her off the sickly sweet way she took her caffeine onto the way he took hers, but he was forever failing in his attempts.
“Taste it.”
He watched her over the rim of his own cup which he’d raised to his lips, she followed after a brief moment of amused consternation. He kept his eyes on her as she tilted her head back giving him a perfect view of her ivory neck; the same ivory neck he loved kissing. He choked back a laugh when she paused, the coffee having reached her taste buds and grimaced at the bitter after taste.
“It’s a little strong.”
“Strong’s better.”
Kate smiled shyly, while concealing a full blown laughing smile at one of Gibbs’ many convictions. He held her eyes and she was determined not to break the eye contact; out of the few people Gibbs had met and worked with over the years, she was the one who was able to out stare him and never backed down when faced with even his most terrifying glare.
She tapped her nails together under the table in a nervous reaction to the silence that surrounded them and the inability to look away from the ocean blue eyes that stared deep into her soul. With a heavy sigh, Kate finally backed down, still holding his eyes and tried to find out what was happening.
“Gibbs, you’re making me nervous. Scary scenarios are popping into my head. Like, you’re here to fire me or to tell me that I’m going undercover…as DiNozzo’s wife.”
“I want you to profile a terrorist.”
“What terrorist?”
The confusion that passed her face had been expected. There hadn’t been any recent cases involving or related to terrorists and the only terrorist they had encountered this year they referred to as ’that bastard’, ’the terrorist’ or ’him’. They had talked briefly about that night in autopsy, along with Ducky and Gerald on several occasions. Never once had Kate mentioned her attempt at taking a dissecting knife to the intruder’s throat to stab him.
It was one of the many times while Kate had been busy on another case, Gibbs had a meeting with Ducky, wanting to know if the older man could remember anything about the man that would make their search for him easier. It was a horrible feeling to learn that one of your best agents, your prodigy, had made a botched attempt at a life saving manoeuvre.
*~*~*~*~*~*
They had actually been discussing the many new assistants that had traipsed in through the autopsy doors, and how useless they had seemed. Ducky proceeded to speak of Gerald, and how calm he had been throughout the whole situation. Even Gibbs mentioned his calm exterior when he was shooting over his body at the terrorist, saying that he wouldn‘t leave with the EMT‘s until he made sure that Ducky and Kate were safe.
Ducky had noticed, that on the night in question, Kate herself, despite being known to be calm under pressure, was becoming slightly desperate. Although, it was hard not to miss, especially when it was his tools she was using in her attack. Gibbs had noticed, of course, the look of pain and worry on Ducky’s face, and pushed him for an explanation.
“Well, Kate was becoming rather desperate. I don’t know whether I should be glad she didn’t or scared that she couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t what, Duck?”
“She picked up one of my dissecting knives and intended on stabbing that bastard.”
“But?”
“She hesitated.”
They both should have felt safe in the knowledge that Kate was trained in unarmed combat, was skilled with her fists and was a capable agent. This small piece of information made Gibbs slowly begin to reconsider having her on his team, or at least sending her to improve her training. He quickly pushed those thoughts aside knowing Kate would never forgive for thinking either, nor would anyone else for that matter, and instead focused on her ability over the next few cases.
On one specific case he had fully intended on sending her to babysit, in the hopes that if their criminal had arrived at the house, then Kate would be fully capable of protecting both herself and the family under her protection.
He never made a mention of her faltering, not at home or the office, but still it niggled at the back of his mind, his own curious nature pushing at him to ask her about it, or talk to her and find out the reason’s why.
*~*~*~*~*~*
“The one you couldn’t stab.”
He had to know. He had to find out the reason behind her fumble. Behind her willingness to take a blade and stab him but the inability to follow through with said action. Kate’s thoughts of ‘oh hell’ were replaced by a quick flashback to March. She took the silver blade from the tray, holding it teasingly before moving in for the kill. He’d anticipated her action and grabbed her arm, bending it behind her back making her drop the knife and in the process, pulling her closer into his body. Close enough that she was able to feel the flack vest he was wearing under his shirt. Close enough to see his eyes. When she returned to the present, she questioned if Ducky had told him that. When he said nothing, stonewalling as usual, she lowered her gaze and eventually her eyes, ashamed of her undelivered action she admitted that what the good doctor had told him was true.
Hearing the words ‘it’s true’ fall from her lips made the scenario seem unbelievable. Not that he didn’t believe what Ducky had told him, he just wasn’t able to accept it until he heard it directly from her. He felt the anger slowly rising and resigned himself to slow, shallow breaths to prevent himself for yelling at her. He felt his throat close up, making it harder to breathe and pulled his eyes away from hers and looked round the patrons at tables beside him as if seeking for the answers that he knew they didn’t have for him and his questions. He wasn’t disappointed with her, more unwillingly to accept what she was telling him and it was this truth that made his voice hoarse when he questioned why.
Kate, in herself, felt disappointed. It was his praise that she regarded more than anything in the world and she had failed him. She had been greatly unsure of her capabilities as an agent in the days following the event, but never let her thoughts known to Gibbs, or anyone else on the team. It scared her.
Her feelings at this current time showed through the nervous chewing of her bottom lip and the flitting of her eyes round the shop, in the same manner as Gibbs for the same reasons. But of course, she knew the reasons; she had been drawn to her captor. Tony had asked her if it was Stockholm syndrome, but she denied all possibility of it. She could always falsify a reason, but Gibbs would see straight through it, so instead came close to admitting the truth.
“His eyes. I was looking into his eyes, and they looked…kind.”
“They look kind when he blew out Gerald’s shoulder?”
“You asked my why I couldn’t stab him and I told you.”
“Contrary to conventional wisdom, Kate, eyes can lie.”
The tone his voice took when he said her name, made her realise he was talking to her not as Agent Todd, but as the woman who lived inside the professional persona she took on at work. And why not? They were outside work hours after all, so why shouldn’t he talk to her as a woman and not an agent.
“You meet him again, don’t forget that.”
“I won’t. I won’t.”
Kate leaned across the table into his personal space, the way he was currently doing to her, looking deep into his eyes as if to convince him that what she was agreeing to she would fulfil this time through.
“Profile him.”
He pushed her, as far as he could without her closing up and shying away, to profile the man. They came to several shocking conclusions in the midst of drinking their respective coffees. Kate explained that he wasn’t an Islamic fanatic; there had been no mentions of Jihad, Allah or infidels. Whatever drove him wasn’t martyrdom. There was the chance, in Gibbs’ eyes that it was for revenge, Kate felt it was a money case.
“A Hamas terrorist in it for the money?”
“Well, he’s not in it for the seventy virgins. He’d have no trouble attracting women.”
Finishing her sentence, Kate realised that Gibbs would’ve liked to pursue this avenue their conversation, to find out why she believed this statement and why she’d said it in the first place. She would never admit it to him, but yes, she was attracted to him.
“Don’t go there.”
She ignored the incorrigible smirk on his lips and continued with her profile. They were both equally exhausted discussing and thinking about this man and wanted nothing more than to exorcise him from their lives. With their conversation and coffee over, they departed with a sweet kiss and the promise of seeing each other at work in a few short minutes before driving off in their respective cars.
*~*~*~*~*~*
They arrived together, keeping a comfortable distance between them. The entire building, thanks to Abby and Tony, knew about their relationship but the two components that built it felt it would do them no good to flaunt it freely and so decided to try and remain professional at work and keep their romance to out of work hours. How could they help the fact that sometimes work did indeed become personal?
The second the elevator arrived on their floor, Gibbs walked up to MTAC and Kate went to her desk, watching his movements and profiling his inner and exterior moods. He was tense. Had been since her little confession that morning. She knew there was nothing she could do to alleviate his bad temper and so settled for going over every scrap of information she’d gathered on the intruder.
Both she and Gibbs had spent numerous nights slaving over various documents and profiles, checking and double checking their information with Gitmo and Bahrain. She pulled an extremely fat and heavy folder from her bottom drawer which held two months worth of documents and proceeded to reassess the files she’d received from Paula Cassidy in Gitmo.
Kate had first met Agent Paula Cassidy when they were assigned a case that led them to Gitmo. Although at first Paula had been a suspect, she and Kate had formed a silent allegiance. Females were few and far between at NCIS, especially in the field, so meeting a fellow female in the field was of great support to both women. Who were both as equally as strong as each other, and who both equally liked sparring with DiNozzo. The few short days they were at Gitmo, Paula and Kate had teamed up several times to take him down with great success.
In the nights she worked over time, without Gibbs knowledge, she’d been in contact with Paula, whom she’d known had given her services on the night in question while she was down in autopsy. They’d exchange many files and documents in the hopes of tracking him down, but so far to no avail. They’d conversed briefly over the phone, and each time, Kate sounded nothing like the feisty woman Paula had met a few short months previously. With the advantage of being the only person on her team in at the moment, Kate took the time to check over her monthly schedule and remembered she had a video conference scheduled with Paula that very afternoon.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Tony DiNozzo arrived at work in an overly cheerful mood. He’d had a brilliant night and an even better morning. While out on his daily morning jog through the park, he’d encountered an attractive Swedish woman. He had big plans for them tonight, although he didn’t actually know if he’d ever see her again, but at least he could hope. Kate’s intuition caught his bright tone and his expression and knew that he was in love. Again. In saying this to him, he agreed and their banter continued on until Tony’s computer announced he had mail. Kate took the moment to list several girls names, making Tony question whether she’d hacked into his computer.
It was all his fault really.
If he hadn’t used her computer to read his emails or whatever, which led to her receiving porn spam, she wouldn’t have known about the types of mail he was getting or who from. In all his life, he’d never have believed that he’d believe Kate never having opened an x-rated site, but he did and he thought it was sad. But this was typical Tony, and Kate had to assume that he’d either been dropped on his head as a baby or that he had attended too many frat parties and gone on too many Spring Break adventures while in college.
“Where’s the boss?”
“MTAC. Talking to Bahrain.”
Tentativeness laced her voice as she stood from her desk and crossed the small distance to stand in front of Tony’s. She knew when he tried, he could be caring and comforting and also quite smart, but this level of caring required something more than the comforting words over a shared meal.
“Tony, I’m worried about him.”
“Gibbs? That’s like worrying about Jim Bowie in a knife fight.”
“Bowie was killed at the Alamo.”
“I know, I saw the movie.”
Naturally, with Tony, it all came down to films. No matter what time or day, and no matter what case, Tony seemed to find a way of relating it to any and every movie he’d ever seen in his life. It was annoying as hell, but in a strange way it was also extremely comforting to Kate. Seeing that Tony was a hard working agent who could also kick back and take things less seriously made Kate, in a way, want to learn from him.
“Tony, he’s fixated on that terrorist.”
“Not fixated, determined. Like Tommy Lee Jones in the Fugitive. Like the Duke in the Searchers. Mel Gibson in Payback.”
“Do you ever read a book?”
“Kate, determined is good a cop.”
“Not when it turns into obsession.”
Seeing she wasn’t getting anywhere by having a semi-regular conversation with Tony, Kate decided to use a psychology trick she’d learned while training as a profiler. Her restless pacing back and forth between the four desks immediately made Tony stop what he was doing and focus more on his partner, and how she really did seem agitated over the Gibbs terrorist thing.
“Gibbs surprised me at D.C. Beans this morning. He bought me coffee and then he probed me about that terrorist like it happened yesterday, not months ago.”
“That is serious. He’s never bought me coffee.”
“Tony…”
“Kate…”
When she stopped pacing in front of his desk, Tony had a clear opportunity to look at Kate’s face. She was strong, like Gibbs in the sense that she rarely showed emotion bar that of enjoyment, anger and happiness. This was different.
Worry, helplessness and stress danced in her eyes. Small tell tale red marks beneath her eyes hinted that she was quite literally on the verge of tears. This gave great insight as to how Kate was taking the situation, because in the eight months he’d known her, she’d never cried. Not even when she’d been taken hostage. She’d held herself with the same grace and decorum that she applied to everything she done. He wanted to say something deep and profound but only got as far as her name.
“Gibbs is like a dog. He‘ll gnaw at an old bone until you throw him a steak. When he‘s done with the steak, he goes back to the old bone. The terrorist is Gibbs‘ old bone.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t choke on it.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
What the agents didn’t know was that on a small farm in Maryland, the terrorist that they were so determined on capturing was formulating a plan to take down Marine One which would serve in their other plans on killing Presidents Bush and Sharon.
There were ten men sitting around various computer monitors and televisions, their tasks being allocated accordingly to each individual. Not having strong enough intel to take down the correct helicopter each individual questioned how they would retrieve the correct information.
“A bird is going to tell me.”
It was this simple sentence, and the all knowing smirk that led his cohorts to believe their leader knew more than he was willing to let on and knew not to question him any further.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Gibbs had been in MTAC all morning and most of the afternoon. There had been no new cases come in which was lucky for them. All though Kate and Tony knew they’d be perfectly capable of running an investigation themselves, it was reassuring to know Gibbs was there leading them when they needed it. Kate raised her head from one of the many files she was reading when a shadow encroached on her desk and found Ducky.
“Hi, Ducky.”
“Kate. You seem awfully busy.”
“Yeah, I am. Kind of.”
“No case?”
“No, nothing. Gibbs has been in MTAC all morning and we’ve, I’ve been going over files. Tony’s just been Tony.”
Tony raised his head at the mention of his name and seen the sickly sweet smile Kate had on her lips for him alone. It was her sign that she’d got one up on him and would like to see his retaliation. Plastering the same smile on his own lips, he voiced his offer of lunch.
Shock briefly flitted across her face, but both she and Ducky accepted his offer. After a quick phone call to the lab to see if Abby and McGee wanted to accompany them, to which they declined, Tony quickly followed in the same direction that Kate and Ducky had left in moments before.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Gibbs was pissed. More so than he had been that morning after Kate’s little admission. He’d had enough of fellow agents stonewalling his every move, not believing him when he said their main man was back in the country. Why did everyone, bar his own team, seem to think that his infallible gut instincts were actually an ulcer, and a pretty severe one at that.
Daniel Snyder, in Bahrain, seemed to believe that their player was still in the Middle East and that he was involved with Hamas. There was no other explanation, seeing as Hamas was like the Mafia and didn’t trust anyone outside the family to take care of their mistakes. Gibbs knew Mossad was lying to them, that they had to have some form of dossier on him, but apparently they didn’t even have a Hamas codename. Daniel tried to counter Gibbs anger by telling him that if Mossad did have a dossier and they were holding out, it was because they wanted to take him out themselves.
In need of better news, he stormed from MTAC while Daniel was still talking to him and headed straight for the elevator at the end of the landing and down to Abby’s, paying no interest the two agents he assumed were still at their desks. Having assigned her and McGee to set up his program and begin tracking the man, he’d hoped by now they’d have some sort of lead. What he found was nothing but counterproductive compared to what he normally saw from his ever trusty forensic scientist.
He watched Abby silently from the doorway before stepping in, making her crash into him. She was startled when she felt her back hit his front, as she always was when he creeped up on her in his scary Marine way, and was even more shocked when he yelled at her. He wasn’t even tolerating her music; not that he ever did anyway, and then he started intimidating McGee into getting the age for him.
He remained silent, having made Abby sit at her desk and do nothing, and waited for McGee to run and scan the image on the screen. When he got a hit, Gibbs declared he’d have been twenty one in nineteen ninety and wanted a hit from the picture within three days. Storming from the lab, McGee and Abby shared a concerned look, knowing that their case, which had run cold, was only being kept warm because of Gibbs insistence.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Ducky, being the thoughtful man he was, had pre-booked a terrace table for three at his favourite restaurant as if knowing in advance he‘d have company joining him despite the fact it was Tony who made the offer , one block from the office. As they gave their waitress their orders, Tony had seemed to have forgotten about the love of his life from that morning as he trailed after the blonde waitress, leaving Kate to simply roll her eyes and Ducky to chuckle.
With her co-worker gone, who she knew would pass off her worry as just that, she took the chance to speak to Ducky, seeing as he’d known him longer. It also hadn’t been that long since she’d spoken to him, funnily enough, about Gibbs. A case they were working had become personal for Gibbs, and Kate wanted to find a way of letting Gibbs let them help him. She’d gone to Ducky, who’d simply told her to talk to him. She was slightly hopeful that his advice would be more than to talk to him this time.
“He’s obsessed, Ducky.”
“I gather we’re talking about Jethro?”
“And that damn terrorist. I’m worried, Duck. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“Have you spoken to him about it?”
“You really think he’d listen? He hardly listens to us as it is, and I don’t want to push him away by making this a problem between us. It’s tense at home, and that worries me as well.”
Ducky was about to say something when he noticed Tony trailing after the waitress who was bringing back their orders, and settled laying a hand over Kate’s, giving a reassuring squeeze. He’d also noticed the same marks around Kate’s eyes that Tony had, and wanted badly to allay her fears that Gibbs would reject her help.
Kate wasn’t too forthcoming with her fears about Gibbs and neither was anyone else, so they all made a start on their separate meals. Tony hadn’t even figured Kate had been conversing with Ducky about Gibbs, and so thought nothing of the silence he encountered when he arrived back at the table.
“Gibbs was like this just before his last divorce.”
“We can’t divorce him, Ducky.”
There was a lilt in her voice that suggested to Ducky that she wouldn’t want to divorce him anyway, no matter how gruff he became and he said as much to her, before sharing a somewhat conspiring smile with her. Through his food, Tony made a mention of the mysterious red head, which Kate was none too pleased hearing about despite knowing who she was. She barely hid her glare she obviously directed at Tony before continuing with her meal and questioning who Gibbs had been chasing.
Tony leant over the table and took the orange slice from the side of Kate’s glass, before dipping it in her iced tea and sitting back down. She hated other people taking things from her plate, or drinking from her cup, especially when it came to Tony so another pointed glare headed his way.
“Had to be a redhead.”
It was this second mention of Gibbs former taste in lovers that prompted Kate to lean across the table herself and smack Tony firmly across the back of the head, in the way Gibbs had done many times before and the same way he had taught her to. There was a specific wrist flick, that when applied correctly, really hurt.
She was hoping to pass off her attack as a reaction to Tony screwing around with her drink, but knew there was no need when he looked across the table giving her a glare of his own.
“You’re not Gibbs! You do that again and you’re going to be wearing that tuna salad.”
Kate merely rolled her eyes again and went back to the remainder of her meal, which was finished quickly when she felt a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach ridding her of her appetite when Ducky inadvertently began talking about a child murder, whom Gibbs was after and successfully caught. Albeit, it had taken him a year to get the deviant, and Kate could only hope that their terrorist would be caught long before then.
Tony was half paying attention to the conversation, half focusing on filling his stomach. He took a glance up, to gauge Kate’s reaction to what Ducky was telling her, when over her shoulder he spotted the blonde from his morning run, jogging along the opposite street, still wearing her purple Lycra shorts and multi-coloured sports bra.
“It’s her!”
“Who?”
“The love of my life!”
Tony practically dove out his chair, leaving Kate to stare open mouthed at him, and follow his actions as he weaved through the crowds and traffic. A crease formed in her forehead as she frowned at her partner’s immaturity and she turned back to Ducky with a little more than agitation in her voice, asking when he was going to grow up. He explained, in the wise and oh so logical way he always did so when it came to Kate, that in Italy, most thirty two year olds were still living with their mothers. This, naturally, prompted another eye roll from Kate.
“Oh gosh.”
She reached for her drink again, and was quite willing to spend the remainder of lunch with Ducky when she remembered about Paula, who was probably already waiting for her in MTAC, despite having twenty minutes to go. Reaching round for her bag, the realisation dawned on her that it was Tony who offered to by, and had once again got out of doing so.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Kate was adamant that she was going to buy lunch, and continued to root through her purse looking for her wallet.
“My treat.”
“No, that’s not right.”
“Go, Kate. It’s been a long pale winter. I need some sun before returning to my human jigsaw puzzle.”
The questioning look Kate gave him prompted Ducky to let her know she didn’t want to go there. Agreeing, Kate stood and leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek and thank him for lunch before taking off in the opposite direction Tony had. Ducky quite happily remained with his own lunch and Tony’s fries.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The warm May sun and cool breeze was a refreshing change to the air conditioned office and florescent overhead lighting that Kate had been subjected to for the past six hours. What she was doing, her secret conference with Paula, went against everything Gibbs had taught her, but she’d had a week to convince herself that she was doing it for the team. Doing it to prevent the seams, that were already at breaking point, from tearing completely.
The intersection came up and she waited patiently for the traffic to come to a stop. Through the traffic she watched the red motorcycle weave a path and begin revving, the driver clearly showing off in her presence. She laughed at the antics he was portraying, having always loved motorcycles and usually the riders that accompanied them. At first, it had been a rebellious moment in her teenage years and since then, well. This rider was clearly flirting with her, and she resisted the urge to flirt back, even more so when he raised his visor.
It was an instinctive reaction to reach for her gun, determined not to let that bastard slip from her grasp again. He rode off, leaving a wake of pedestrians watching on in shock as the pretty brunette in the white suit pulled out her gun and ran into the middle of the road. Kate paid them no mind and offered no calming words of reassurance that she was a federal agent, she simply checked her surroundings and found the suitable car to follow him in.
“Federal agent! Follow that motorcycle!”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Once Gibbs had stormed his way through the building and back to MTAC for another round with Daniel, informing him of the man’s predicted age, he went back to the squad room to check with McGee. The young agent was as green as the came, and still buckled and stuttered under the abruptness always associated with Gibbs and his approach to cases. Specifically cases that involved ones that got away.
The young Norfolk based agent, scared out his wits, calmly explained that they hadn’t got anything, but there had been a hit without enough points. Having traced it, he continued his explanation by stating it was a biology teacher in Manchester.
“Sorry.”
“Never apologise. It’s a sign of weakness.”
“Sorry. Right.”
As useful as McGee could be with his grasp of technology and ability to create programs NASA would be proud of, Gibbs easily tired of his stuttering and inability to form complete sentences when in his presence. He was about to leave again when he realised he was down two agents. Even though there were no cases at present, he’d have liked to have them there to at least get through the mountains of paperwork that were starting to form.
“Where’s Kate and Tony?”
“Went to lunch with Ducky.”
“When?”
“About an hour or so ago.”
Gibbs once again rounded on McGee, pressing him for more information as the whereabouts of his agents, before leaving the young boy quite literally shaken to the core and working once again on the computer in the hopes of finding the as yet unnamed bastard and getting at least some approval from Gibbs.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Gibbs flew into autopsy and stopped dead in his tracks as he watched Ducky and his still relatively new assistant, Jimmy, who was straight out of medical school, piece together what could only be described as a human jigsaw puzzle.
“Just when I think nothing will surprise me.”
Ducky began a long winded tale of where he was found, what he was found in and a further explanation that their victim had been dissected by a sadist with a knowledge of anatomy. He’d paused far too soon in his tale for it to be natural, as Ducky always loved a good story, and Gibbs certainly noticed this abrupt stop.
“Oh Gibbs, I am so sorry. I should have realised. It could narrow down your search for that bastard who put the bullet in Gerald’s shoulder. It only just came to me.”
“What came to you, Ducky?”
“That bugger knew anatomy. I even asked if he was a doctor. He didn’t reply but I’ll wager he went to medical school in Britain!”
Gibbs let this knew piece of information sink in, before about turning to go back to the squad room. It was only when he reached the sliding doors that he remembered his original reason for going down there in the first place, and questioned whether Kate and Tony had came back from lunch with him.
“No. Tony went off on one of his usual pursuits and Kate had a videoconference with Gitmo.”
Gibbs stormed out of autopsy and back to the bullpen to give the new search criteria to McGee. What he couldn’t understand was why Kate was videoconferencing with Gitmo, and without his knowledge. Either way, he was heading up there himself once again, and so told McGee that once he arrived back to put Tony under house arrest. McGee, himself, couldn’t understand why Gibbs thought he had the power to make Tony do what he wanted, but he assured himself he could do it.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Kate suddenly regretted being quick off the mark and jumping in the blue mini to tail the motorcycle. For someone who was so smart, she really could get herself into tricky situations at times. She refused to answer their questions, or to ask questions of her own. As her curious nature pushed her hard to ask the questions, for fear of her safety she remained tight lipped, watching the road in front of her for any sign that may tell her where she was being taken. If she were to hazard a guess and listen to her gut, she’d believe that they were in cahoots with her captor in autopsy from two months ago; she’d bet her life on it.
She quietly and quickly assessed the danger she was surrounded by; the backseat passenger had her weapon. Once they’d received conformation that she was the person they needed, they’d quickly removed anything from her person that could cause them harm before binding her hands together behind her back. Mr. Backseat Passenger had simply wanted a free feel, she thinks.
While the man behind her posed the more obvious threat of being able to do two things, one being to shoot her brains out and the other being to choke her, the man to her left she knew could be just as dangerous.
Why did she get herself into things like this?
*~*~*~*~*~*
The technicians in MTAC were used to seeing Gibbs in here on an almost daily, and nightly, basis and were well versed in what he wanted and when he wanted it. They never denied him his viewing of the video clip from autopsy; one specific frame of his face before he shot the camera, on a loop, playing over constantly. This was probably one of the reasons that Gibbs couldn’t escape him, as he was forever playing this scene in both MTAC and his mind.
Also not to his knowledge, the technicians had changed shifts and Gibbs was now faced with a new person in place of who he had been seeing all morning. He offered to put Gitmo on the main screen, in place of the CNN news report that was currently showing, but Gibbs declined; preferring instead to take it on the headset on a private side screen. Kate had asked specifically for this videoconference, which made it personal, and he wanted to make sure that it remained private.
“Agent Cassidy.”
The strawberry blonde lifted her head at the sound of the male voice intruding on her quiet office space, and was greeted with the stern face of Gibbs. For a profiler, as Kate was bad at lying, Paula was bad at keeping the shock from her face and eyes.
“Hello, Agent Gibbs. Where’s Agent Todd?”
“She’s not here. Why’d she ask for the video conference?”
“She wanted to discuss the Hamas Little Creek lead I gave her a while back.”
“You couldn’t do that on the phone?”
“She wanted face to face.”
She had secretly been glad for Kate’s persuasion at a face to face conference, because it would give her a chance to analyse the woman, who over the phone in the past few months had seem drawn and distant compared to the woman she knew.
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
Paula, from where she sat, had a vantage point of seeing who was in MTAC and quickly drew Gibbs attention to the fact that Tony had arrived. Gibbs, whose mood was breaking on concern for Kate’s want on the VC, quickly changed back to anger and drew his conversation with Paula to a close, letting her know he’d get back to her later.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Tony made a mention of McGee placing him under house arrest, and Gibbs made a mention of a certain creek. He was sarcastically delighted that Tony was familiar with this creek and how deep he was in it. He tried in vain to lessen the blow of Gibbs anger, but his words, as always, seemed to fuel the fire as Gibbs launched into full tyrant mode and wasn’t willing to back down under any circumstances.
“May I say something?”
“Only if it has to do with me catching that bastard I’m chasing.”
“It does.”
“Then speak.”
“Boss, you really need to see Moby Dick.”
Seeing the flare in the older man’s eyes that always came before a head slap, a sharp head slap, Tony ran down the stairs before Gibbs had a chance. Gibbs growled and slowly made his own way down, stopping at the railing at taking stock of his team.
He watched McGee type furiously away at the computer, and Tony dive back to his own desk in the hopes that his boss would calm down. His gaze fell upon Kate’s empty desk and he frowned at her apparent tardiness. Taking his phone from his pocket, he dialled the number and listened to it ring, waiting patiently for her to pick up.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was the vibration on her hip she felt before the device rang. The driver turned to her, his eyes flashing briefly with anger before turning to the man in back.
“Simi.”
Mr Backseat Passenger, Kate now knew to be named Simi, placed her gun beside him and leant forward, freely taking the second and obvious chance at a free grope without her being able to harm him. Feeling his hands running over her, Kate bit back a comment that would surely place her in worse danger.
“It’s on the left side on the belt!”
The phone was quickly removed from her hip and she had a passing chance to see the screen; Gibbs was calling. There was hope, she hadn’t returned from lunch with Ducky so he was looking for her.
“Who is Gibbs?”
Kate turned to face the driver, only to give him an indignant glare and return her gaze to the road ahead of her. She choked on the scream at the back of throat when the back of his hand came into contact with her face. The gasping breaths were all that betrayed her shock at the action.
“Who is Gibbs?”
“My boyfriend. He calls me when he leaves the office.”
“Where does he work?”
She turned again, the blood from her lips beginning to trickle down her chin. The triumphant smirk she gave was probably far worse than the glare she gave before when she gave her second answer.
“Iraq.”
The backhander she received was far worse than the first, causing the blood to spread across her fair skin and the wound already on her lip to deepen. She sat back in the seat, quietly, tasting the blood from her lip. She’d give anything right now to be able to fight for her survival, anything.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Gibbs was concerned that she didn’t answer, which she always did when he called. Making the assumption that she was caught up with something, he put his phone away and headed downstairs to push and intimidate McGee even more.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The highway turned into a dusty deserted stretch of road that seemed to go on forever and a day. In the distance, a small farm came into view and the driver pulled into the barn. The man she was waiting to see stood at the opening and watched as she drove in, before approaching the blue mini.
She watched in silence as Simi and the driver got out the car and went about their duties. It seemed they had been acting as delivery boys, she being the gift delivery in question. She remained where she was, simply for the fact she couldn’t exit the vehicle without difficulty as her hands were tied behind her back, and waited and watched spitefully as the man she loved to hate opened the door and greeted her.
“Caitlin. Did you miss me?”
There was no venom, no hate. It seemed that he was more than pleased with her arrival; but of course he was. He had manufactured this, in his twisted mind and God only knew what he wanted with her or planned on doing to her.
He grabbed her upper arm roughly and his eyes dared her to make a run for it. He openly assessed her face, noticing the wound and the dripping blood on her lip and chin. It seemed Stockholm syndrome was prevailing as Kate allowed him to touch her face and check out her wound, she felt she best comply with him for her safety if nothing else.
“I apologize for Bassam’s actions.”
“At least he didn’t blow my shoulder out with a nine mil.”
He turned to the man who attacked her, now known to be named Bassam and asked him to undo her cuffs before returning back to her and asking after Gerald.
“Still in rehab. Asks every day if you’re dead yet.”
She badly wanted to add ‘I’ll be pulling the trigger’ but bit her tongue, knowing he could see it in her eyes anyway. She jumped slightly when she felt the cold blade of a pocket knife on her flesh as Bassam slide it between her hands and cut the plastic tie binding her hands. Personally, she believed this was one of the worst things he could’ve done, considering he was the one who had already wounded her.
She turned faster than anyone could have anticipated, her right hand clenched in a tight fist and punched Bassam straight in the face. He captor pulled her back, positioning himself between his cohort and his wounded little Caitlin, to prevent anymore blood being shed. Kate, as much as she hated him, appreciated the fact that he thought highly enough of her to protect her instead of throwing her to the dogs to see what she was fully capable of, despite the fact she thought he should know already.
The smirk he gave her clearly showed he knew she was far deadlier than she appeared to be, and he was egged on by her apparent disrespect for him and his associates.
“Satisfied?”
“No. He smacked me twice.”
“Being slapped by a woman is twice the insult to Bassam.”
“Really? What about being shot by one?”
He smirked again, knowing from previous experience that she’d have no qualms about shooting any of them, but deeper down also remembered her previous fumbling and hoped that somehow he could use this to his advantage.
He turned away to Simi, asking why she was smacked and Simi responded by throwing over her cell, stating she would not tell them who was calling her. He knew already who would be calling his precious little Caitlin, he’d expected it sooner than later, but this was far too soon for him. He almost said as much to her, but reigned control on his desire to show her he knew far more about them than anyone thought they did and settled for simply stating Gibbs had called.
“I better call him back. He is my boss.”
He knew since and because of his last visit, she and Gibbs had become more than boss and subordinate. They were lovers, and knew for a fact that this was very useful to him and his plans for domination of this brunette who fascinated him ever so much.
“Of course. But first, some ice for your lip. Then you may call him.”
He grabbed her bicep again, feeling it more defined and stronger than he seemed to ever remember, and led her away to the farm house. The unvoiced dare was still dancing in her eyes, and though she would have loved to, she really didn’t want to fulfil any of his fantasies which involved her. While she still had the chance, Kate glanced back over her shoulder, watching as various men moved about the barn, placing missiles in a trailer ready for departure.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It seemed like forever since he’d seen his Katie, but in reality it had only roughly been seven hours, according to his watch. His restless pacing was beginning to annoy Tony and distract him from the paperwork he was pretending to do, ad his constant absence from the squad room to MTAC certainly wasn’t going unnoticed by either agent.
“Heard from Kate?”
“No.”
“I tried her at home, not there. Gonna give her a paddle?”
McGee was clueless as to this little question, but Tony kept it simple for the young agent, who he believed wouldn’t and didn’t fully understand the concept of their team just yet, by telling McGee that it had to do with the creek that he and Kate were up.
Gibbs hadn’t specifically said that Kate was also knee deep in the creek that Tony was, but this was work, and he’d promised himself he’d never treat her any different than Tony now that he was sleeping with her. Shared his life with her.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was a nicely decorated house, but too floral for her taste. There were various monitors set up in the living area, surrounding a cream sofa, with matching pillows decorated with embroidered red flowers. If this was a different situation, Kate found that she’d quite like to decorate her own home this way, with much less flowers.
The oak table she was sitting at was large enough to be filled by her team twice. A modest arrangement of fruit sat in the middle, and was accompanied by a small plate of ice. As the man approached once more with a damp cloth in his hands, Kate smelt the antiseptic solution from the fabric and felt the steel solidify on her spine, building determination to not lose the battle or the war.
The silence was almost deafening; she preferred the white noise of DiNozzo as it allowed her to think more clearly. She couldn’t stand this. She was preparing herself for a battle, of which she would win, but she hadn’t expected chivalry.
Flinching slightly as he further inspected her wound, Kate found she could not distract herself from the lingering gaze of his eyes, which were locked on hers as he worked. The now dried blood was cleaned from her lip and chin, and she felt the sting as the antiseptic penetrated her wound. Her eyes finally found the strength to drift from his as she watched him lay down the cloth, his tan hand picking up a single ice cube to apply to her lip, which over time had slowly began to swell up. She removed it from his fingers, not wanting his touch on her anymore than it had been already.
“You told me I could call Gibbs.”
“On one condition.”
It was the first laugh she’d had all day, despite it’s sardonic nature. If she had grown to know anything about this man over two months, it should’ve been never to expect anything less. Even Gibbs had taught her to expect the unexpected.
Her fingertips were numbing from the ice, the melted water slowly running down her wrist. She lowered her hand to the offered dish towel, and her tongue instinctively ran over her wound, soothing the numbness and checking the severity. Her eyebrows, which were one of her prized features, arched in mocking shock, one of her many traits.
“Surprise, surprise. And what am I to say?”
“You became quite ill after lunch. You went to emergency, where it was diagnosed with food poisoning. They pumped out your stomach, gave you an IV and sent you home. You’ll be fine tomorrow. You just need some sleep.”
It was the perfect alibi. Right down to the last detail. Did he know that if she told Gibbs this he would check with Ducky? This whole day was apparently perfect in it’s planning. She wanted to destroy his plans, whatever they were for her, and for the rest of her team and quite possibly America. As always, her pushy curiosity raged a war within, and she found herself determined to find out what would happen if she didn’t. and then she heard herself asking the question she’d been thinking about.
“And if I don’t say that?”
The smirk was there again as he called out a blonde woman, named Marta, who Kate recognized as the woman Tony was chasing down the street at lunch. The penny dropped, as did the sinking and sickening feeling in her stomach, as Marta told how she would put a bullet in the back of Tony’s head as she ran her fingers through his hair that night.
It was some time before Kate regained the ability to breathe properly, let alone talk. She couldn’t actually imagine a life without Tony, no matter how much he pissed her off. She needed him, just like he needed her, although they’d never admit that to each other. But then her anger flared at him, how he could be immature as to follow the brain in his pants instead of his head.
The raging debate of whether to save a friends life and accept her orders, or to defy them and hear of a friend’s death, because of her no less, also went on for some time. As much as she didn’t want to, Kate found herself agreeing to this and reaching for her cell phone which was being offered to her. They obviously knew that when it came to her friends, Caitlin Todd would do anything to save them.
*~*~*~*~*~*
This had to be the worst mood Tony had ever seen Gibbs in, and he’d seen a lot of temper flare up’s in his time at NCIS. He obviously hadn’t been satisfied with what he had learned in MTAC, and not having Kate around seemed only to enrage him more. Even his coffee didn’t seem to calm his mood.
Tony looked up from his paperwork to see Gibbs leaning over McGee checking his progress, which he seemed to be doing every five minutes when he wasn’t in MTAC harassing the technicians up there, when he heard a cell phone ring. His interest peaked when he heard Kate’s name mentioned and the relieved sigh from his boss.
“Is she okay?”
“Food poisoning.”
“Food poisoning?”
He was interested to know how one could contract food poisoning from a simple tuna salad, but Gibbs was giving nothing away other than the fact that he was going for coffee.
“Well, what’s wrong? Other than not catching that Hamas guy.”
He’d brought it on himself, he really had. He knew he’d chastise himself later for being so blatantly stupid in his actions, but he was Tony DiNozzo, it’s what he done best. Gibbs rounded on him, his familiar anger directed at his senior field agent, and for once in his life, Tony found himself longing for a simple head slap than what he received. It scared him and he now found that Kate had been right all along.
“The Hamas guy! The terrorist! The bastard! The ass! We call him everything but his name, DiNozzo. Do you know why?”
“Because we don’t know his name?”
“Because you’re not working a hot case. I want his name! I want it today!”
His parting shot was in reference to Tony’s comment about Moby Dick and Tony found himself also wishing Kate was here to ease his anger at him. McGee, on the other hand, had stumbled on a discovery that made his inability to form coherent sentences worse than normal and tried in vain to attract Tony’s attention. Tony however, was admitting out loud, which he would never do if she was there, that Kate was right about Gibbs losing it. His speculation furthered to whether Gibbs really meant what he said, and ignored McGee’s plight for attention. It was only when his name was screamed with urgency that he turned to face McGee, who was staring open mouthed at the computer screen and pointing, now not able to speak at all.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The mid afternoon sun was still warm, and the breeze was shifting the leaves of the tree that shadowed the pine picnic bench that Kate, Marta and her captor sat at. She would have risked an escape, but estimating a six mile journey to the nearest highway, and the fact her sig was lying on the table, primed and ready to be fired, she wouldn’t make it far enough away to miss the shot. And her captor was a good shot.
On the table before her lay two wine glasses, both full, a bottle of Chardonnay, her gun, a radio and a pile of walnuts and shells. She was offered a glass, which she profusely denied, instead throwing a venomous glare at Marta asking for him to let her taste it. Marta threw an equally venomous glare at Kate and also stated she wished for none as she didn’t drink.
“That’s right. Muslims don’t use alcohol.”
“Well, not at home. Perhaps, if you thought of this as a weekend house party. With you as the honoured guest.”
Kate raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, which was becoming a strong habit today, before chuckling slightly, shaking her head she took the chance to look around and eyed up her gun on the table. If she were quick enough she could reach for it and kill him, and her.
“And you the charming host?”
“Oh, many women find me charming.”
The sleazy tone which his voice took on and the path his eyes took over her body made Kate shudder, dreading to think there was an underlying message and retorted by saying he must pay them well. For once, she wasn’t being sarcastic and Marta must have picked up on her tone as she began chuckling.
The radio on the table came to life, and the person on the other end queried if they knew what they needed as they were ready to leave. It was all finally falling into place, the reasons that she was there in the first place. They were planning on extracting some form of information from her and it seemed they would do it any way possible, more than likely drawing pleasure from any pain she was exposed to. As always, her question wasn’t answered, instead being asked to guess where the pea was.
She stared at the man ahead of her, never once looking down at the shells he was shuffling, content to play along with his charade. He was playing games with her, she knew this, and she hoped that if she played along she might get the answers to her asked and unasked questions. Marta, however, wasn’t too convinced with Kate’s accuracy when she tapped a shell and it was lifted to reveal the pea, stating it was a lucky guess.
“Was it Caitlin?”
“No. Now answer my question.”
She was getting nowhere quick and was once again asked to play the game to satisfy Marta, who Kate was planning on giving her first bullet to when she got her gun back. If anything it would be to wipe that smug grin off her countenance. Guessing correctly once again, she once again asked why she was there, only to be told that it was so she could teach him this trick. To show his seriousness, he asked her once again to guess, which she did, in order to try and gain understanding of how Kate could do this without looking at what he was doing.
“Amazing. How did they teach you to be so observant?”
“Who?”
“The Secret Service.”
She hadn’t learnt this from the Secret Service. It was a secret talent she was proud of, as was her drawing skills and her ability to guess ages. Admittedly, profiling, especially men, was one of her main weaknesses. It was only now the penny really dropped and everything clicked into place. From what she had gathered since her arrival, just under two hours ago, she held the key to what they needed. The goose that laid to golden egg, if you will. She had what they wanted to know, and only now did she realise it involved the President, who was flying to Camp David with Prime Minister Sharon.
“I saw those missiles. You want to know which helo is Marine One to shoot it down!”
“Those tiny missiles are mere training aids. In any case, I have no intention of shooting down Marine One.”
“You’re a lying bastard!”
Marta laughed at Kate’s outburst, secretly hoping that she’d be punished for speaking so indignantly, however, Marta was the one who was given the pointed glare, clearly stating to shut up.
“Unfortunately, half of that is true.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Gibbs had taken time out of his intimidation of McGee and Tony to retrieve a fresh helping of his highly-favoured, extra strong coffee from his favourite, as Kate put it, caffeine dealer. He couldn’t believe how lax his team were approaching this whole situation with their terrorist; he’d held three of them hostage for god’s sake and yet they were all acting as if he was never going to show up again. Did his gut instincts no longer provoke the same insatiable need to protect and serve in his team as they once did? Even Kate, in her own way, had found a way of coping through this whole ordeal.
Kate. He was missing her, in every sense of the word. He hadn’t seen her since their impromptu coffee meeting that morning, and although he knew he’d see her at home, it wasn’t the same as having her beside him at the office. He remembered the overwhelming relief when she phoned earlier, and had been playing it over in his head since he left the squad room.
*~*~*~*~*~*
“Yeah, Gibbs.”
“Hey, it’s Kate.”
“Where are you?”
“Home. I got food poisoning. I went to emergency and got my stomach pumped, they sent me home and told me to rest. Tony‘s right; never eat oysters in a month without an R. I‘ll be fine by tomorrow.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
She’d hung up without waiting for a response, which was highly unnatural for her. Gibbs, at the time had thought nothing more of it, just that she was picking up on his traits. But now the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed his nightmares were becoming a reality.
Stepping off the elevator, he could see more than the necessary amount of people surrounding his desk, and hoped to some extent that it was work related instead of another of McGee and Abby’s tactics to play house. But if that were the case, Ducky and Tony wouldn’t be there.
Encroaching on his team, he growled lowly before it became apparent that the huddle was indeed work related, and to some extent personal. McGee telling him they had a name was one of the better pieces of news he’d heard all day, and it slightly relieved his anger.
His name, Ari Haswari invoked immediate anger and confusion in Gibbs and he vowed silently to take him out. He even went as far as congratulating McGee on his downsizing of potential suspects.
“What’s with his name? Ari is Israeli, Haswari is Arab.”
Tony, much to Gibbs delight, had already found someone who knew him before his terrorist antics. Ari, he learned, was a postgraduate research assistant at the Edinburgh Centre for Infectious Diseases. Tony believed that to be the reason why Hamas chose him to recover the smallpox virus from autopsy two months ago.
“Tony, let’s go! McGee , give me a GPS search on Kate’s cell phone. It’s off now but if it comes back on I want coordinates.”
Tony grabbed his backpack and followed after Gibbs, slightly confused at why Gibbs would want a GPS search on Kate when he knew where she was. He quickly made his way over to where Gibbs was waiting by the elevator, anxious to know where they were going and what Gibbs was planning on doing if he seen or heard from Kate for the remainder of the day.
“Kate’s at home, Boss.”
It was his actual tone that prompted Gibbs, for once, to explain his actions. It was almost as if Tony were saying ‘she’s puking and ill, let’s leave her to it’, but Gibbs being who he was, and Tony knowing this, wouldn’t let Kate be alone if she were ill and alone at home.
“She didn’t answer her phone. I don’t think she ate bad oysters for lunch.”
“She had a tuna salad.”
Why hadn’t he listened to his gut? Why hadn’t he insisted Ducky go over a check on her? Why hadn’t he gone to check on her? He lowered his head at his own stupidity, a deeper realisation coming over him in the process.
“Tony, that bastard’s got her.”
“Boss…”
“He’s got her!”
Gibbs stormed off, back to his desk to likely insist that McGee get some sort of immediate trace on Kate’s cell, or to try and narrow down her possible locations and to harass Tobias Fornell over at the Hoover building.
Tony stood where he was, regretful that he hadn’t hung around during lunch so that he and Kate could walk back to work together. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have left to chase a tight ass. His own dark growl and swift turn around proved to himself that he cared for Kate more than he even realised.
*~*~*~*~*~*
They were pushing her. She was adamant in her convictions that no matter what, she wouldn’t tell them what she did or didn’t know. At least five times already, she’d tried to convince Marta there was no way of telling the helicopters apart, but this was proving far more taxing than hoped for. For the sixth and final time, Kate stated that there was no way of telling them apart and added that if there were, she wouldn’t tell them.
“Even if it meant your life?”
Marta leaned threateningly into Kate’s personal space, and Kate leaned forward in the same manner, asking in the same tone if she were willing to die for what she believed.
“We Hamas prove that every day.”
“No. your children do!”
The gun was in her hands quickly and was centred on her forehead. Kate found that being on the end of a gun barrel was more intimidating and terrifying than being the person holding it. If it were done as a scare tactic, it worked. If this was the end of her life as she knew, then she’d die knowing she’d given nothing away to her captors and their now foiled attempt to assassinate the president.
A tan hand was thrust in front of the gun barrel, it’s owner determined to take back control of the situation which he had seemed to have lost through the fighting words of the two women before him. This was his attack, it was his plot to kidnap Kate and if necessary, kill.
He knew, of course, that Kate was telling the truth. He had simply wanted to see if what he knew about, could actually be applied to the woman. What he’d read about her had first spiked his interest in her, and he couldn’t have been more thrilled when it was she who appeared outside the autopsy doors that morning.
He had tried then to possess her mind, but only got as far as having control over her body when he checked over her for a concealed weapon and again when she’d tried to attack him. He wanted that again, having her close like that. Plainly, he wanted her.
“Marta, give me her gun.”
“We are wasting time!”
“The gun, Marta! Please. If there is killing to be done, I will do it.”
The gun was exchanged, but Marta held on strongly to the belief that Kate deserved to die for her insolence and lack of compliance towards them. Her boss, however, had other ideas.
“I believe you, Caitlin. Relax. Have a glass of wine. I don’t like to drink alone.”
His tone was condescending, but strangely, relaxed Kate enough to consider that this wasn’t her day to die after all. She’d lived through this ruddy experience and would make certain that if she ever encountered him, or her, again, she’d personally be putting a bullet between their eyes.
“Haswari! What…!”
“Caitlin is telling the truth. There is no way to identify Marine One from the others.”
“You told me there was.”
Haswari’s smile was one that could give the Grim Reaper a run for his money, and equally as intimidating.
“I lied.”
Marta’s own anger had reached it’s peak, and now to find out that she’d been played all this time pushed her over the edge and further. Reaching to grab the radio on the table, she briefly saw Haswari raise the gun from the corner of her eye and barely had the time to react.
“Women should never get involved in politics. It’s a waste of beauty.”
As the gunshot resonated around the woods and her head, Kate slid to the far end of her seat, far away from the body, the dark red blood that was beginning to pool around her feet. She looked towards Haswari for some sort of explanation; why he took her, how he knew, what he wanted now.
The cell phone was slid gently from his pocket, and he held it in the palm of his hand as he offered it to her across the table. He took a final chance to take in her beauty, but knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he would see her.
“Call your old friends at the Secret Service. I will tell them all they need to know.”
Kate stared at him, unsure if he was being honest with her or if her was playing her along. Her gaze fell between them to the cell phone, and the way he insistently thrust it at her.
“Take it. My Hamas are well trained. They won’t kill or capture your President or mine.”
Kate took the phone, as the meaning of his words finally penetrated deep in her brain which was already flowing with information to relay to Gibbs, the death of Marta. Her own death scene played out in her head also, as did Tony’s. She couldn’t take any more information, but this seemed to play a huge role in what had happened today.
“Your President?”
“I am Israeli. Mossad.”
This new, and helpful, piece of information came to a great surprise to Kate. She had assumed on first meeting him that he was a terrorist, and mostly likely was then and now. Mossad were generally the good guys in Kate’s eyes, but couldn’t take his word for who he said he was. She badly wanted away from this man, and the threat that he could have her if he wanted still dancing in his eyes. She wanted to see Tony, assure herself that he was alive and then slap him over the head for his stupidity. See Gibbs and be safely wrapped up in his arms, never to be let go.
Dialling the number with visibly shaking fingers and a memory that seemed to not want to recall the number, she made the first steps in getting what she wanted.
*~*~*~*~*~*
When Tobias Fornell arrived at the scene, he wasn’t surprised to already see the NCIS Major Case Response Truck already there, along with Ducky’s van. What he was surprised to see, or not, was Jethro Gibbs’ presence.
He watched the young brunette agent, who had successfully stood up to him and handle the NCIS cowboys with everything she had in September, grab Agent DiNozzo roughly in a hug before slapping him over the head and yelling at him. Watching as the elderly M.E. comforted her, in a way only he could do, before moving her to the back of the ambulance to be checked over.
Seeing there wasn’t actually anything for him to do here, he left NCIS to it and took off to the one place he knew he would find Jethro Gibbs.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The news report blaring in the basement was a blatant lie. An apparent shootout between FBI agents and alleged Colombian drug dealers. Gibbs knew it was a crock, Fornell who was sitting on the tall metal stool was a crock. The difference being, Fornell had already spoken to the three directors of each agency, all of them determined to make sure Gibbs didn’t exact his revenge and lead them into more troubles.
They’d all had their various run ins with Gibbs. Director Morrow had knocked heads with Secret Service and FBI directors before, although that had been an amusing conference, seeing as his agent prevailed in taking the body whereas the other agents had not.
Mark had sent over Agent Bauer, Kate’s former boss while she was Secret Service, to make sure that their former agent was in good hands and to see how she was handling things. He was with her, as was Agent Sachs of the FBI, while she wrote her report and answered their questions.
“Suspected drug dealers, huh? Whose idea was that?”
“Secret Service.”
“Ah, they give Ari his ’Get Out of Jail For Free’ pass too?”
“No. CIA did that. But all the Directors agreed. Even yours. Ari’s father was Mossad. Probably knocked his mother up to get a son with Arab blood. Sent him to medical school to vet him as a doctor in Gaza. This guy’s been a sleeper his entire life!”
“I’d love to put him in a coma.”
The sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed by Fornell, and he knew that if Gibbs had a chance, he’d do more than put Ari in a coma.
“Al Qaeda funded this Hamas Op. Ari was just doing what he had to do to make his bones with them.”
“You tell that to Gerald!”
“You forget I lost a man and had three wounded.”
“No. but it seems that you did.”
“You know better than that.”
“There is a line, Tobias. That bastard crossed it! You don’t make your bones shooting friends!”
Their voices were raising in anger with the events happening around them and frustration at each other. They’d always had a volatile relationship, but now Ari was involved, it made Gibbs never want to deal with the FBI ever again; knowing what they knew about Ari.
“What do you want us to do? He’s inside Al Qaeda!”
“I don’t know!”
Gibbs slammed the sandpaper down against the rib of the boat painfully hard, causing a billow of sawdust to cloud over the room. Fornell began coughing and it made Gibbs secretly pleased, to hear him weakened for once. When Fornell reached for the bourbon, it was almost as though he were making an apology, for what he had and hadn’t done today. The basement was silent again as they both sipped on their respective drinks, Fornell choking once again at the strength of the bourbon. Again this pleased Gibbs, and told him that since it was a hundred twenty five proof, it was to be sipped, not gulped.
“The Directors want your word that you’ll forget about Ari. They think you’ll blow his cover.”
“If I got payback, it won’t be by blowing his cover. Why are you asking me this and not my director?”
“He refused to.”
Gibbs chuckled. He knew Tom didn’t want to get involved with Gibbs when he was headstrong and determined never to back down from anything no matter what. This was the one thing ever director knew Gibbs would make his personal mission to see through to the bitter end; one of them or both of them dying in the process.
“Yeah. All right, on one condition.”
“There’s always one condition.”
Fornell could be so contradictive at times, Gibbs thought. He was twice as bad at ‘one conditions’ as he was.
“I want to speak to him, in a place of my choosing, alone.”
“Nobody’s going to go for that.”
“Ari will.”
The smug and knowing smile Gibbs wore as he returned to sanding down his boat, made Fornell consider the fact that after all these years, he’d never really understood how deceiving and tricky the man could be. He also knew, once he discovered Gibbs chosen locale, was because Kate was there.
*~*~*~*~*~*
His heart beats faster in his chest as he boards the elevator down to autopsy. He believes what he will find is real. He knows what he will find is real. It is of no real meaning to him anyway.
When he arrives at autopsy, he sees the bag lying on the table still zipped up. This is so close to his nightmare it scares him. Ducky isn’t standing in the corner this time, he’d already seen him in the squad room a few minutes ago when he checked in on Kate. He’d been informed that his girl, who was sitting at her desk wrapped in a woollen blanket, was suffering from delayed shock, but he wasn’t to worry as she was in good hands.
He takes five sure steps towards the table and reaches out with a steady hand to unzip the bag. Again, like his dream, the sound of the zipper is like a shotgun. Pulling back the black and clear PVC sheets in turn, he looks down into the face of a blonde woman.
Her face is deathly pale.
Her eyes are open, and they are what assumes to be always cold. Emptiness there too.
Dead.
Her face shows pain, and slight shock. He hears movement and turns his to look up at Ari standing in the corner. There’s a conversation that passes between them, but he doesn’t really remember it.
Pieces of it will come to him later when he comforts Kate as she has nightmares of her own death. Pieces of it will come to him now, as he walks away.
Gibbs knew that if Ari posed Marta as a double agent to Hamas, he posed the threat to himself of dying if they didn’t believe him. Ari retorted with the fact that if they did, he would learn what they were planning as the next Nine Eleven.
*~*~*~*~*~*
“Would you risk losing that opportunity to pride?”
“It’s not pride.”
“If not pride, then what? Love of country? Sense of duty? I’m sure those exist in you. But what burns is pride, my friend. Shalom.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
What he does remember is placing the barrel of his sig against Ari’s shoulder and blowing it out, telling him it was to help him convince Al Qaeda. Whether it were the fact Ari dared call him friend, or if he was taking the first step in exacting his revenge, and the promise of meeting him again, he took it.
He leaves him lying on the floor, hearing him begin to chuckle as he steps in to the elevator and goes back to his Katie.
Both men know that if they ever cross paths again, one or the other or both will die.
Whether it be for country, for pride, for revenge or for pure egotistical reasons.
One of them will die. Both are adamant in won’t be them but the other.
One dreads the day he ever sees that man in his way again but is all for the killing.
One is greatly looking forward to it.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs nightmares come true as he loses Kate and fights to get her back
Chapter End Notes:
I loved the coffee scene with Kibbs - drew my inspiration from that as well as a huge mug of coffee!