Several days later, Abby had an opportunity to venture down to autopsy and meet with Ducky.
“Hey, Duckman, how's the leg doing?”
“Oh hello, Abby! It's much better, thank you. What brings you down here?” he smiled broadly.
Abby threw her arms around Ducky's neck. “Oh, Ducky, I'm gonna miss you so much. I wish you weren't retiring.” The ME smiled and returned the embrace.
“Oh, dear Abigail, I'll miss you, too, but you'll see me around. I plan to travel, who knows...maybe write a book of my adventures, but I'll be around to check on you and the others. After all, I have no intentions of hiding in my house to wither away like some old man. This is really the right choice to make at this point in time.” He chuckled. “Now, once again, what brings you down to my inner sanctum?”
“Gibbs has asked me to organize your retirement party, and I needed to know when your last day will be so I can plan the date and get the notices out.”
“Why, how sweet and thoughtful of you, Abby. My last day will be Friday, December 4. By then the new ME will be hired and have had a few days to come in and get oriented to the place before I leave.”
“Great!” Abby replied enthusiastically. “Then is it okay if we plan the party for Thursday, the third?”
“Why that would be grand, my dear, thank you.”
“Okay, Ducky, December third it is.” Giving Dr. Mallard a quick kiss on the cheek she turned and practically skipped to the elevator. While she wasn't happy about her Ducky leaving, she did so love a party, especially if she was the one planning it.
November 30
The last two weeks were rather routine for all. No new cases had come in and team Gibbs was catching up on paper work or finishing up on details of recent cases. Down in autopsy Dr. Mallard and Jimmy Palmer were finally able to complete a long overdue inventory check and make sure all files were up to date in preparation for the new ME.
“Jimmy, I want to thank you for taking up the slack for me this past couple of weeks while my leg was healing.”
"You're welcome, Dr. Mallard.” Palmer paused for a moment thinking about what he was going to say next. “You know, Dr. Mallard, I really appreciate all of the help you have given me in preparing for my classes. I've learned so much from you. Well, I just wanted you to know how much I'll miss you.”
“It has been my pleasure, young man,” Ducky responded warmly. He really did like his young assistant and cared deeply for him. He knew that Jimmy Palmer would make a very good medical examiner. “Jimmy, I think it's time that we drop the formalities. Please call me Ducky, after all, all of my friends do.”
Jimmy looked up in surprise, “Yes, sir, Dr. Malla...er.., Ducky. Thank you.”
The phone in autopsy rang. Ducky walked over and answered it. “Autopsy....Yes, Jethro, we're on our way.” He hastily wrote down the address and turned to Jimmy. “Well, Jimmy, it looks like we have some work to do. Some poor soul, a petty officer 2nd class, seems to have wrapped his car around a tree. Here's the address, try not to get us lost, my dear boy.” He looked at Jimmy and clasped his shoulder warmly smiling at their inside joke.
The scene of the accident had been taped off by the local police. The officer on duty approached Special Agent Gibbs and introduced himself.
“Normally we wouldn't have called your people, Special Agent Gibbs, for just a traffic accident, but the victim looked like he may have been shot, and one of the neighbors said they heard a shot just before the car crashed into the tree. Plus we could see what looks like drug paraphernalia in on the floor of the backseat. The narcotics squad is waiting for you guys to finish so they can begin their investigation.”
“Thank you, Officer Mendez. Have your people looked for the possible shooter and secured the area?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. As soon as my people are finished, then your folks can get in here and start cleaning up. Have you handled the body at all?”
“No, as soon as we saw that this was more than a mere accident we roped off the area and called you.”
Each member of the team set about doing his or her prescribed job. Dr. Mallard and Jimmy crawled into the car to examine the driver. A gunshot to the upper left quadrant of the chest could be seen.
“Tell me what you've got, Duck,” Gibbs said.
“Well, Jethro, it looks like our poor boy was shot from his left as evidenced by an entry wound to the side of his upper left thoracic area. It looks like it may have severed a major artery or maybe even entered the heart judging by the amount of bleeding that I see. I don't see an exit wound so the bullet probably did a lot of ricocheting within his body causing even more damage. Of course, we'll know more when we get him home.”
“Okay, Ducky. Are you ready to move him?”
“Just give us a few more minutes, Jethro, to finish the preliminary exam, then DiNozzo and Ziva can get a closer look at the vehicle.”
Gibbs looked around to see which of his agents was closest. “McGee, help Palmer with the body. Duck, you let him help, okay?”
Dr. Mallard made eye contact with his friend and gave him mock look of irritation. “Jethro, are you molly coddling, me?” Then he smiled and nodded at Gibbs, “Thank you, Jethro, although it's completely unnecessary.”
“Yeah, I know, Duck, but humor me. Okay?” Gibbs laughed turning away to interview a witness.
While the two younger men wrestled with the body, Dr. Mallard picked up the equipment and carried it back to the Medical Examiner investigation truck. Suddenly, a loud report of a gun shot rang out. All law enforcement and NCIS personnel took cover, and those who carried them drew their weapons. It seemed to come from the row of houses across from the park. Another two shots in rapid succession cracked and one of the local enforcement officers dropped clutching his right leg.
“Shit, I thought you said your guys had the area secured!” Gibbs yelled to Mendez.
Another shot was fired. The attacker was targeting anything that moved.
“Perp on the roof of the yellow house!” yelled DiNozzo. All eyes turned that way, but something from another direction caught Ducky's eye as he took cover behind the truck.
“Oh my God!” he whispered as a cold chill ran down his spine. Approaching the scene was a little girl about seven years old riding her bicycle listening to her iPOD with headphones completely unaware of the drama unfolding in front of her.
The shooter saw the girl. Ducky saw him rise up and aim in her direction. Without hesitation Ducky left the shelter of the truck and ran to the little girl, knocked her off her bike and covered her with his body. He heard the shot and felt a crushing impact as the bullet entered his upper back. He never cried out, but whispered to the little girl in a tight pained voice, “It's okay, sweetheart, stay here until my friends can help. Shhh, don't cry.” And then he was silent.
At the same instant the perpetrator raised up to shoot, Gibbs and his agents fired as one. The suspect had taken his last shot, and his last breath.
“DiNozzo, David... go check it out.”
No one had seen who or where the intended target was as the ME truck blocked their view.
There was a brief silence then a low wail rising in pitch and volume could be heard. A little girl was crying. Gibbs looked down the street to locate the source of the sound. Not seeing anything he moved from his position to see what lay beyond the M.E. truck. His breath caught in his throat, he felt like he had just been punched in the stomach, the air knocked out of him. Lying half on the sidewalk, half in the street was the very still form of Ducky. His arms and upper torso shielding a very scared little girl.
“Ducky!” he gasped. “Oh, dear God, not Ducky.” It was as close to a prayer that Gibbs had come in a very long time.
“No!” Then louder, “No, Ducky, no!”
He ran toward his old friend. The others stopped when they heard their boss call Ducky's name and also ran in that direction. They couldn't see what had happened, but Gibb's body language and anguished cries said it all.
The little girl's sobs quieted when Gibbs picked her up and handed her to Palmer to have him check her over. He knelt down and gently held Ducky's shoulders and turned him over resting the ME's head in his lap. Ducky's pale face was drawn. Blood seeped from his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs.
“Is she safe?” his voice barely audible.
Gibbs choked back a sob, “Yeah, Duck, she's safe. Don't talk, an ambulance will be here soon.”
“No time, Jethro” Blood frothed at his mouth. “ My lung ...punctured. Probably....cough...gasp...artery nicked.” After a pause a brief moment of panic touched his eyes, "Strange, I can't feel my legs," he whispered.
“Shh, we'll get you to a hospital and get you patched up, Duck. Just lie still and save your strength. I've got your six.” His eyes welled with tears. He didn't even try to wipe them away.
“Jethro, listen to me...cough..it's...cough...okay. I have... no regrets. I wasn't going to let, couldn't let ... that bastard shoot her.” Ducky grabbed Gibbs arms. “It was... my choice.” Another coughing fit wracked his body, Ducky looked into Gibb's face, smiled and repeated softly, "no regrets" then slowly the light in the faded blue eyes dimmed, and he was gone.
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