Tony lay on his side, curled up in a fetal position. The examination by the young mercenary had been swift and efficient. Denny was a former medic in the Army and despite his choice of professions, he still had a bit of a conscience. While he wasn't happy about selling the young agent into slavery, he would go along with his leader's wishes. He wasn't going to let the man die of an infection, though. Tony's shoulder wound was cleaned carefully and rebandaged. Denny gave him a shot of antibiotics that he kept on hand, and some more water. His examination of other parts of Tony's body was done with surprising gentleness. Even though he felt humiliated, there was no pain, just mild discomfort. He was grateful for the care he was being given, feeling it was probably the last time he would be treated with some measure of kindness.
Now, after having his arms and legs re-tied, Tony lay in the dark contemplating his fate. His mind wandered, as thoughts of his job and teammates swam through the haze of his fever. Gibbs would be pissed, for sure. Would he go looking for his subordinate, or would he be forced to let the matter drop and concede that it was hopeless? Tony couldn't imagine the senior agent letting anything drop.
His mind drifted to an image of Ziva. She had become a good friend and a good partner. Her brash confidence and dangerous sense of humor had made her a perfect foil for him. They engaged in a constant banter while in the office, much to the irritation of Gibbs. When they were in the field they could communicate with hand signals, if necessary, knowing instinctively what the other was thinking. She'd saved his ass a few times, and he hers. She couldn't save him from this, he thought bitterly, no one could.
McGee. McGee had to be alive, Tony refused to believe he died in the ambush. McGee was too young, had too much promise to be cut down like that. Tony imagined he had seen that McGee was still breathing and kept that thought in his mind, giving him comfort. Probie would go on, perhaps getting his own probie and following Tony's lead in hazing. Tony chuckled.
God, he was going to miss them. What would Abby do when she found out he was gone for good? And Ducky? It would probably be better for them if he were dead; they, and the rest of the team, would be tormented if they didn't know what happened to him. Worse yet, what if they knew what had happened, but couldn't help him? Would he want them to come rescue him if he'd been a slave for awhile, or would he rather be dead?
Tony drew in a shaky breath, tears falling as he closed his eyes. Not knowing where he would wake up, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
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Maneuvering quietly through the shadows, Gibbs approached the tent at the far end of the camp. He kept a wary eye on the men by the fires, taking care to avoid any open spaces. His earpiece crackled and he heard Ziva's voice, soft and steady.
"He's not here."
He replied tersely, "Roger. I'm checking the other tent now."
Carefully, Gibbs cut a small hole in the bottom of the tent wall and looked in. Scanning the interior of the tent, he saw a figure curled up on the floor, and nothing else. Cutting a larger opening for him to crawl through, Gibbs approached the sleeping figure. He felt a quick jolt of adrenaline when he saw that it was his missing agent, still breathing.
"I have him. Ziva, Tabaraz, get over here."
Kneeling, Gibbs quickly put a hand over Tony's mouth. The young agent jerked awake and started to struggle, but Gibbs held him in place.
"Tony!" whispered Gibbs urgently. "It's okay, lie still." He turned Tony's head toward him, waiting until the younger agent's eyes were able to focus and he recognized his boss.
"We have to be quiet." Gibbs removed his hand from Tony's mouth.
Eyes filled with tears, Tony's voice was a little shaky, "Boss? Is this a dream?"
Smiling, Gibbs gently stroked Tony's hair. "Not a dream, DiNozzo. We're taking you home."
Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Ziva slipped into the tent through the opening cut by Gibbs and went to her partner's side, looking down at him worriedly.
"Keep an eye out, outside, make sure no one's coming," ordered Gibbs as he cut the ropes binding DiNozzo. "Can you walk?"
"I don't know," murmured Tony. "I'm feeling pretty weak, and I think I have a fever."
Gibbs put his hand on Tony's forehead and frowned. "You're burning up." He looked at the bandage on Tony's shoulder. "It looks like you've been treated, though."
Nodding, Tony replied, "Yeah, one of the guys was a medic. He cleaned it up and gave me some sort of shot." He didn't tell Gibbs what else the medic had done. No one needed to know.
"Let's see if you can stand." Gibbs helped Tony to his feet, the younger agent swaying at first and then managing to stay upright, leaning against his boss. They took a few tentative steps toward the back of the tent.
"Ziva, get his other side, let's go."
Turning on his comlink again he whispered, "McGee. We have him, we're on our way."
Tony looked at Gibbs, his face alight. "McGee's alive?" Gibbs smiled at the relief in Tony's voice.
"Roger, Boss. Is he alive?" McGee's voice was tentative
"Roger that, McGee. And happy to hear you're okay too."
"Sweet. We're ready for you, we'll be watching."
"Where's Tabaraz?" Gibbs looked across at Ziva.
The flap opened and Tabaraz whispered, "Right here, Gibbs, standing guard."
Gibbs nodded curtly. "Follow us, watch to see if we're being followed."
Gibbs and Ziva, supporting Tony between them, slipped from the tent quietly and headed toward the helicopter's location, with Tabaraz trailing right behind them. Tony was very weak and in pain, but he tried to walk on his own power. They were able to make good time and were almost at the rendezvous point, hearing the whirring of the helicopter blades nearby.
"Boss," Tony's voice was alarmingly weak. "I have to stop." His face was flushed and he was sweating profusely.
"We're almost there, DiNozzo." Gibbs continued on, pulling Tony along between Ziva and himself. "Just a little bit further. You can do it."
"I don't know..." Tony's voice trailed off and his body went limp. Gibbs and Ziva stumbled under the dead weight, but regained their balance.
"Tabaraz! Come here and take Tony's other side, we'll have to carry him the rest of the way. Ziva, cover us from behind." Ziva nodded and fell back as Gibbs and Tabaraz lifted the unconscious agent and set of briskly.
Seeing their approach, McGee ran to meet them and help carry Tony to the waiting helicopter. The team tumbled into the vehicle and the pilot took off. The mercenaries were still unaware that they had lost their valuable merchandise.
Ziva knelt next to Tony, checking his pulse and breathing. "He's feverish. I think he's going into shock, too." She looked up at Gibbs, concern in her eyes.
"We'll get him to a hospital," Gibbs assured her. "He'll be fine." He watched as Ziva took off her scarf and wet it with water, gently wiping Tony's face with the cool cloth. Tony stirred briefly, then lay still again.
Gibbs sighed, relieved that the younger agent was alive, but worried that he could still die from his wounds. The past few days had been a whirlwind, he'd been so intent on rescuing Tony that he didn't have time to think about what could have happened. He refused to think of failure, but now that they had Tony back safely, those fears swirled around in his head.
Looking at Tony's flushed face, he realized what could have happened to the young man, the fate that awaited him. Gibbs would never had let that happen. Tony was like a son to him, he would never leave him in the hands of people who would enslave him. Gibbs would die to get him out of that hellhole.
But Tony was safe now. The young agent was stubborn, he wouldn't let a bullet wound to the shoulder kill him. Besides, he knew that Gibbs would be pissed if he died after the effort put in to rescue him.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A mission to South America turns into something unexpected.
Chapter End Notes:
The characters in this story belong to Bellisarius Productions and Paramount, except for the original characters. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only; no money is being made. Huges thanks go to Rinne, who makes me look smarter than I am by clearing up my bad punctuation and asking me questions when the story doesn't make sense. She also helps when I just don't know how to get from Scene A to Scene B. hugs to Rinne.
A/N: Spanish is indicated by italics.
A/N: Spanish is indicated by italics.