Author's Notes
Set somewhere in the early seasons; I'd say it has a season 3-5 feel if I had to specify. No spoilers or warnings I can think of.
My third ever story; written for the 2017 NCIS Reverse Bang.
The sedan's passenger jerked back to awareness with a cacophony of sound still ringing in his ears. Momentarily stunned and disoriented by the suddenness and violence of the accident, he sat up carefully and looked around the back seat in the dim light, finally recognizing what had caused them to crash. There had been a blinding flash immediately followed by the deafening crack of thunder. Then a shadow came toward them out of the storm; the driver hadn't been able to avoid the large tree falling across the dirt road and onto the hood of the car.
The agents in the front seat were both slumped forward in their seat belts, rendered unconscious. Daylight was fading, it was still raining, and thunder still rumbled in the distance. He couldn't believe his good fortune. This was his chance to get away, before these agents realized the cooperative witness leading them to a remote hunting cabin was actually the murderer they were looking for. These dense woods were home. If he could just get a head start, he could warn his partners, grab some things from the cabin and then disappear where they'd never find him again.
First things first, he thought. Leaning carefully over the front seat, he brushed aside shattered glass and tree debris; quickly relieving both agents of their weapons and cell phones. The agent in the passenger seat groaned and shifted in response to being jostled, signaling he was coming around. He had to hurry now if he wanted to get into the woods and out of sight before the two men regained consciousness. He slid across the seat toward the door and as an afterthought; he leaned over the seat again and pulled the keys from the ignition then opened the door and crawled out of the wrecked car.
He smashed both phones and dropped them in the mud next to the car, then tucked the keys and weapons into the small pack he'd brought. Fingering one of the SigSauers, he briefly considered shooting both men and balked. He couldn't be sure whether or not someone was close enough to hear the shots and was hesitant to add two Federal agents to his tally when they weren't an immediate threat. They were already injured and the driver looked like he might be pinned under the dash. They were now unarmed with no means of communication, and would likely get lost if they tried to follow him in these woods. No, he'd give them a fighting chance. If the agents got lucky and were able to mount an attempt to come after him, well…that was a different matter entirely.
Gibbs' tenuous grasp on consciousness began to solidify and he became aware of cold, wet, and a throbbing ache in his head. As he blinked in confusion, trying to bring his surroundings into focus, memory of the crash returned. He remembered Tony's startled curse as he braked suddenly and weaved sharply toward the right side of the dirt road. A scant second later there'd been the screech of rending metal and sound of shattering glass when a large tree fell across the hood just as the vehicle wrenched to a stop. He'd seen stars as his head smacked hard against the doorframe then everything had gone black.
Gibbs looked at the large tree trunk resting against the pillars on either side of the shattered windshield and shook his head at their close call. If Tony hadn't braked when he did, the tree would have crashed through the passenger compartment or landed on top of it. His relief faded as he looked across the seat and saw Tony in the gloom. He was silent and unmoving; slumped forward against the wheel with his face turned away from Gibbs.
"DiNozzo?" he called out. His heart started hammering at the lack of response.
Gibbs reached out to the unmoving form and slid his fingers around DiNozzo's wrist; dread made his heart race and an icy wave of panic swept over him as he felt nothing at first. Shifting his grip and pressing his fingertips harder against the inner wrist, he held his breath and waited. There it was; the flutter of a rapid pulse against his fingertips. He exhaled heavily in relief and cursed. "Dammit, DiNozzo, don't do that to me."
Gibbs reached carefully along Tony's torso with one arm and supporting his head with the other, he shifted him gently away from the steering wheel until he rested back against the seat. Tony groaned and his eyelids fluttered at the movement. He turned Tony's head toward him and grimaced at the blood covering the left side of his face and neck. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully pressed it against a deep cut along the hairline at Tony's temple.
"Owww…" came a soft complaint.
"DiNozzo, hey. You with me now?" Gibbs asked, tapping his cheek gently with his free hand and feeling another wave of relief as the green eyes opened halfway.
"Umm, yeah Boss. What happened?"
"You ran us into a tree, DiNozzo. Don't think you can talk about my driving anymore." Gibbs deadpanned.
Tony looked skeptically at the tree lying across the crumpled hood; small boughs and branches filling the space where the windshield had once been. "It looks more like the tree ran into us, Boss." Tony tossed back.
Gibbs just grinned, glad Tony was awake and coherent enough to give as good as he got. He'd been worried there for a minute.
"Where's Sloane?" Tony asked, taking in the empty back seat and open door. "He go for help?"
"No, DiNozzo, he didn't go for help." Gibbs first priority was determining the extent of his partner's injuries, then they could deal with the fact that Sloane seemed to have taken their weapons before he disappeared. "Let's worry about you right now and him later. You hurt anywhere else?"
Tony shivered then closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him at the movement; it served to distract him from Gibbs' evasive answer. He groaned, cautiously shifting his upper body and cataloging aches and pains. One side of his chest felt sore and tight from hitting the wheel but he could breathe fine. He was reasonably sure he hadn't broken any ribs and wasn't seriously hurt until he tried moving his legs but was unable to do it. He became aware of pressure across his lower thighs and knees, and felt a sharp pain in his right ankle. He swallowed hard and looked over at Gibbs, becoming increasingly apprehensive at the thought of being pinned.
Concern for his partner returned as Gibbs saw the change in his face immediately. "Tony, what's wrong?" he asked, worry making him revert to using Tony's first name.
"Think I might be stuck, Boss."
"OK, just take it easy; let me try and see what's going on." Gibbs opened the glove box and pulled out a small flashlight.
Tony looked down and blinked in surprise as Gibbs laid his head across Tony's lap then carefully ran his hand under the dash along Tony's knees. "I wonder what McGee and Ziva would say if they saw where your head is right now, Boss." Tony said, amusement coming through plainly in his voice.
Gibbs rolled his eyes at Tony's predictable and irreverent humor. "Not another word, DiNozzo," he replied gruffly.
"Gotcha Boss, shutting up now." Tony said with a grin, knowing Gibbs couldn't see it. His humor evaporated again and he tried not to squirm from the discomfort in his legs as Gibbs reached down along each one to feel where he was pinned.
Shining his light into the dark space beneath the dash, Gibbs could see Tony's ankle twisted and jammed pretty tightly under the brake pedal, but he smiled at the telltale outline of an ankle holster under his trouser leg.
"OK," Gibbs said. "It could be worse; just looks like your ankle is caught under the brake pedal. If I can get your weapon out of the holster, that may give me enough room to help you pull your foot free. The weight of the tree shoved the dash back and down onto your knees. You're wedged there, but not too tight. Once I get your ankle loose, I think I'll be able to pull you out."
After several long minutes of careful maneuvering, he was able to get Tony freed and pulled over to the passenger side of the sedan. He winced in sympathy as Tony gritted his teeth and waited out the agonizing pins and needles brought on by returning circulation in his legs. While Tony took a few minutes to recover, he found the manual trunk release and rooted in their gear for items that might be useful as they hiked for help.
Once the pins and needles started to subside, Tony carefully swung his legs out of the car and stood, swaying dizzily. Keeping one hand on the sedan for support, he walked unsteadily around to the trunk where Gibbs stood rooting through one of their go-bags.
"Is now a good time to ask where Sloane went and why I seem to be missing my cell phone and weapon?" Tony asked.
"He was gone when I came to DiNozzo, along with our weapons and the car keys. Our cells are in pieces over there in the mud." Gibbs said, nodding toward the driver's side of the sedan. "It's clear now that our friend Sloane is not who he appears, so I'm pretty thankful for your backup weapon."
"So what do we do about it?"
"Not much we can do by staying with the car and I'm thinking it's a lot further back to town than we should hike in this weather. The rain and dropping temperatures aren't going to do either of us any favors. We need shelter and soon." A rumble of thunder in the distance emphasized his words.
"I don't think we're more than a couple miles to the cabin, Boss. There's shelter and according to Sloane, a radio…maybe even food and water."
Gibbs nodded thoughtfully, thankful DiNozzo insisted on a courtesy visit to the local LEOs before heading up to the remote cabin. People in town knew they were around and they'd booked rooms at the hotel. At some point soon, they'd be missed in town. McGee and Ziva would also raise the alarm when they didn't check in this evening. "Even if there isn't," he reasoned, "we'd have a fairly secure and dry place to wait if they don't miss us right away and no one comes looking for a while. The only problem with that plan is Sloane might have the same idea and he knows this area a hell of a lot better than we do."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to get to the bottom of why he felt the need to steal our weapons and run. If he is there, all the better," Tony said as he checked his back up weapon and fingered the handcuffs still attached to his belt. "We should get moving Boss; try and beat the storm."
Gibbs turned and faced Tony. The younger man was pale under the blood smeared across his face and he'd walked with a slight limp. He also suspected Tony had a minor concussion, if the slightly dilated eyes were any indication. Even so, it seemed they'd been fortunate to escape with relatively minor injuries. "You're sure you can make the hike?"
Tony hesitated then nodded. "I don't think we have much choice, Boss," he said looking up into the dark sky as thunder rumbled again; closer than before.
"Ok, let's move," Gibbs agreed, handing Tony one of the packs and slinging the other over his shoulder. "Keep an eye out for the turn off for the trail Sloane mentioned."
"Right."
They set off along the road and headed further up the mountain, unaware they were being watched from a short distance into the trees.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
McGee hung up the phone, grinding his teeth in frustration at another 'straight to voice mail' answer. For the last several hours, while Ziva helped him with records searches and followed up on interviews, he had been making several attempts to reach Tony and Gibbs to exchange case updates with no success. The team was investigating a bank robbery committed by a disgruntled Navy veteran named Harris, along with an unknown accomplice. Whether something had gone wrong or the intent was to leave no witnesses wasn't clear, but the robbery ended in a double homicide as the thieves made their escape. A bolo on the former sailor turned up a sighting near Harris' hometown of Walden, a small mountain town a few hours' drive away in West Virginia. Interviews of Harris' former coworkers turned up a link to the Sloane brothers, active duty Navy and childhood friends of Harris' from Walden. While both sailors lived in the DC area, according to their respective CO's, they'd been in Walden on leave for a week.
Gibbs and DiNozzo opted for the road trip to Walden to interview the Sloane brothers and other known associates in hopes of getting a lead on Harris' whereabouts. McGee and Ziva stayed in DC and had been hard at work trying to identify and track down the second robbery suspect.
It was now well into evening and McGee was getting worried. Tony had checked in once they reached Walden, but that hours-ago phone call was the last contact from either of the senior agents. Gibbs would have wanted an update from them by now, he was sure of it. McGee was a little nervous about being left in charge of this end of the investigation and was trying make sure Gibbs and Tony's faith in him was not misplaced.
Ziva attributed the lack of contact to spotty cell reception in the mountainous terrain and insisted that there was nothing to worry about. She was unconcerned and felt if Gibbs had anything to tell them or there was anything he wanted to know, he'd contact them. Maybe he was worried over nothing, but still…her smug confidence annoyed him and he pointedly reminded her of Gibbs' rule 3. McGee picked up the phone to try the sheriff's office again as Ziva headed down to check in with Abby; she'd rolled her eyes and taunted him for being a mother-hen. McGee had a bad feeling; surely they wouldn't have been out of touch for so long without good reason? He tried the Walden Sheriff's number again, but the small-town office didn't seem to be staffed round the clock. He left another message and hung up.
A short time later, he looked up as the elevator chimed softly. Ziva exited before the doors even opened all the way and she hurried toward him, clearly agitated. "McGee, did you reach them?" she asked breathlessly.
"No, both phones still go straight to voice mail. The Sheriff's Office doesn't seem to be manned right now either," he replied. "Why? Did Abby find something?"
"You were right to be concerned, McGee," Ziva said; her tone conciliatory. "We have a problem. Abby has finished reviewing all the surveillance camera footage we collected from the exterior areas around the bank. Greg Sloane, the elder of the two brothers was caught on the footage. He is the other accomplice, McGee."
"She's sure on the ID?" McGee asked. "Sloane and his brother are supposed to be on leave and hours away in Walden."
Ziva nodded. "She is sure; he removed his hood near the scene and one of the nearby cameras caught him. There is more," she said grimly. "Abby confirmed he is the one that committed the murders, not Harris. We have to find a way to contact Gibbs and Tony to warn them."
"What do you think I've been trying to do for almost three hours now, Ziva? While you were insisting everything was fine!" he snapped impatiently.
Her indignant reply was cut off as McGee's phone rang. He glared at her then snatched the handset and greeted the caller, "Agent McGee speaking."
"Ah yes, Agent McGee…this is Sheriff Toller returning your calls. Sorry for the delay, but we've had a bit of trouble in town today and stormy weather complicating things a fair old bit. So, what can I do for you?"
"We have two agents in your area conducting interviews and trying to track down a person of interest in a robbery and double homicide that took place in DC late last night. They checked in earlier today and indicated they'd be alerting your office they were working in the area. We haven't heard from them since," McGee explained as Ziva looked on and fidgeted impatiently.
"Yes, your agents did stop by and talked to my deputy some time ago. Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo, I believe it was," the sheriff replied. You say you haven't heard from them since?"
"Yes, that's right." McGee waited as muffled voices indicated the sheriff covered the receiver and was speaking to someone else in the room.
"Sorry about that Agent McGee. I see why you're concerned," Sheriff Toller said sympathetically. "We meant to follow up on your message and see if your agents are in the town hotel, and I've got someone doing that as we speak. We've got our own homicide investigation here today and there's a hell of a storm going on right now; that's brought some phone and power lines down. It's a bit chaotic here. I can send someone over to the hotel to relay a message if that's where they are," the sheriff offered. "Who were they here to see exactly?"
"They initially headed your way to interview friends and family of a Wade Harris; specifically, Greg and Jack Sloane for starters," McGee answered. "We've been urgently trying to reach them for several hours. We need to make them aware that new evidence has surfaced linking Greg Sloane to the same robbery and murders."
There was a long silence over the line and McGee thought for a moment they'd been disconnected. "Sheriff? Are you still there?"
"What is going on, McGee?" Ziva demanded, leaning down and placing her palms on the desktop.
She scowled as McGee hushed her and turned his attention back to the phone. There was a cough and the sound of a throat clearing. "It looks like we'll be working your case too, Agent McGee," Sheriff Toller said in a suddenly somber voice.
"I don't follow, Sheriff."
"Hold on Agent, and I'll explain." McGee heard muffled voices in the background again and huffed in exasperation. Ziva hovering over him trying to hear wasn't helping. He shot her a meaningful look hoping she'd back off his desk and stop distracting him.
McGee started as the sheriff suddenly came back on the line, his tone urgent. "You said Harris and Sloane?" he asked sharply.
"Yes, that's right. Why?"
"Earlier today a body was found in the Harris family home, stabbed to death. We've identified the victim as Jack Sloane. Wade Harris was spotted leaving the scene a short time before the body was found. He's definitely in the area and I'll be calling him my prime suspect at this point," the sheriff reported.
"Any sign of Greg Sloane?" McGee asked.
"Yes, and the news gets worse I'm afraid. The hotel owners just informed my deputy that your agent's sedan is also gone. They booked rooms early in the day but never came back tonight. We've been told they left this afternoon with a guide to check out a remote mountain hunting cabin near where Harris was sighted and may have been heading. I think they figured the weather delayed your agents getting back down the mountain."
"How did you find all this out so quickly?" McGee queried.
"It's a small town Agent McGee, and strangers tend to catch attention of folks around here, especially when they're flashing badges. Right now, I'm thinking we should be thankful for the nosy nature of small town folk," the sheriff said pointedly.
"I'd tend to agree, Sheriff," McGee placated. "Anything else you can tell us at this point?"
"Nothing good, I'm afraid. With the weather the way it is, we can't get out to search for them until it clears. The bigger concern is that the guide your missing agents left town with was Greg Sloane."
McGee paled and swallowed convulsively at the potential implications of that. "I understand Sheriff, thank you. I'll be back in touch soon. I need to brief our director on this development." He hung up and sat staring a moment, struggling to absorb what he'd been told. That Tony and Gibbs had run into trouble of some kind now seemed a certainty.
Ziva looked on anxiously as McGee concluded the phone call, frustrated she'd been unable to hear both sides of the exchange. From the look on McGee's suddenly pale face, something must have happened to Gibbs and Tony. "What is it, McGee?" she hissed, smacking an open palm on the desk in frustration.
McGee shook off the fog of shock and looked up at Ziva. "I need to brief Director Vance," he said simply.
"Why? What has happened?" she asked, her voice rising in frustration and worry.
"Tony and Gibbs booked rooms at the hotel when they arrived in Walden, but never made it back there tonight. They were last seen this afternoon; accompanied by a guide and headed for a remote mountain cabin to look for signs of Harris. They're missing…but that's not even the worst of it. The guide they took with them was Greg Sloane," he finished gravely.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sloane observed the two agents in the car from a tree perch not far off the road. He couldn't see well due to the deepening darkness but a flashlight beam from inside the vehicle told him at least one of them was moving around, if not both of them. He would bide his time for a few more minutes before heading for the cabin, and see how they chose to handle their predicament. As he watched, one agent emerged and began to sort through items in the trunk. A few moments later the second one emerged and limped around the wrecked car. He cursed as they pulled packs out of the trunk then continued along the road heading further up the mountain instead of taking the way back to town. He'd been certain they'd head back down the mountain. Instead, it looked as though they opted to seek shelter at the cabin and use its' radio to call for help. Sloane now knew he wouldn't be able to retrieve the hidden money from the robbery and make a clean escape until he dealt with the two agents.
As soon as they were far enough up the road where he wouldn't be seen or heard, he quickly climbed down from his perch and set off into the familiar woods. Moving as fast as he dared in the gloom, he paralleled the road and kept a sharp eye out for the short cut trail to the cabin. He'd get there ahead of the agents, meet up with his partner, and they'd make absolutely certain there would be no help coming for the agents anytime soon.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
~Several hours later~
"DiNozzo, wake up." Gibbs said as he gently shook Tony's shoulder. "DiNozzo, come on!" he insisted, shaking a little harder. Finally he got a response as Tony grumbled and swatted at him clumsily without opening his eyes. Gibbs caught the flailing hand and tugged gently. "Come on Tony," he urged. "I need to get a look at you; now sit up."
"Didn't we just do this, Boss?" Tony irritably replied as he wrapped an arm around his ribs and struggled to get upright.
"No DiNozzo, we did this two hours ago." Gibbs went through the motions of a second concussion check as Tony rubbed his shoulder distractedly. Concerned that Tony seemed less alert and sensing he might be worse off than before, Gibbs released him to lie back down. "Your ribs hurt, DiNozzo?" he asked as Tony settled himself, still keeping his right arm wrapped around his torso.
"Yeah, some…'zit my turn to take the watch yet, Boss?" Tony slurred. "No, not yet DiNozzo. Get some more rest." Gibbs looked on with concern as Tony settled back down on the sofa and quickly fell back into an exhausted doze. He had no intention of letting Tony do anything but rest as much as possible before their hike back down the mountain for help.
As they'd left the road on the path leading to the cabin, the terrain became more rugged, with the ground muddy and dangerously slippery from rain. The pace and difficulty of the hike up the mountain had taken its toll on the younger man, leaving him increasingly dizzy and nauseous, though he tried to downplay it. Tony had begun to falter from fatigue, wet, and cold as they got close to the cabin and now Gibbs was worried what seemed like a minor head injury was worse than they'd thought. He'd also been holding his ribs as though they bothered him and Gibbs thought they might be bruised or worse, but Tony seemed to be breathing with little difficulty.
In spite of the terrain, darkness, and persistent cold rain that left them soaked, they'd reached the cabin in just a little under two hours. The rustic, but large cabin had no electricity, but was surprisingly well-appointed and someone seemed to have been using it fairly regularly. There was a dirt bike under a tarp on the porch and inside the cabin there were kerosene lanterns and firewood stacked next to the fireplace. The cabin also had a small water tank and propane-fueled hot water heater.
Half–expecting to find Sloane there, they'd cleared the cabin first. As they did so, their good fortune took an ominous turn for the worse. Gibbs' search in the front room of the cabin revealed a radio smashed beyond repair, bloodstains, and signs of a struggle. He'd heard a startled exclamation from Tony and rushed into the back room.
"DiNozzo? You ok?" Gibbs found him kneeling in the doorway of a tiny storeroom at the rear of the cabin. Tony turned toward him, his flashlight revealing that he was kneeling next to a body stuffed in the small space. He turned back and pressed his fingers to the side of the neck. After a moment Tony looked up at him, shaking his head negatively. He stood and moved aside, and Gibbs could see the body of Wade Harris; dead from a gunshot wound to the chest.
"Sloane was here Boss, had to be him. Not long ago either. He's, ah…still kinda warm."
Gibbs nodded, putting the pieces together in his head. Sloane must have come straight here from the wreck, fought with and murdered Harris then destroyed the radio so they'd be unable to call for help. Gibbs' stomach turned and Tony was quietly furious once they realized Sloane most likely used either his or Tony's service weapon to commit the murder.
Sloane was probably still in the area, so they had to keep their guard up. After checking the bike and finding a missing battery, Gibbs suspected Sloane was responsible for that too. Harris had to have used the bike to get up here. With or without the bike, they had to wait for the worst of the weather to clear out before they could leave. The first order of business then had been to start a fire in the fireplace and to get warm and dry.
Afterward, they took a few minutes to search the front room of the cabin for anything useful that they could carry with them when they left. After evenly distributing flashlights, energy bars, water bottles, and matches between their packs, they settled in by the fire to wait out the storm. It hadn't escaped Gibbs' attention that all the movement had reawakened Tony's dizziness and nausea. After a brief concussion check and a not so brief argument, Tony reluctantly agreed to take the sofa and rest for a while before the long trek back down the mountain.
Gibbs took the chair next to the sofa and tucked Tony's weapon into the cushion next to him. He watched as the younger man shifted restlessly and rubbed his shoulder again, feeling thankful for whatever cop instinct drove Tony to wear his backup weapon on this trip out of DC. At least they were armed and it gave them an advantage Sloane didn't know about, because whether they opted to stay and wait for help, or hike out, they had no way of knowing if Sloane was still nearby or not. As far as Gibbs was concerned, that meant leaving an injured Tony alone while he went for help was not an option. He'd hoped they could leave under the cover of darkness, but the distant thunder they'd heard earlier had materialized into a full-blown storm that showed no sign of ending soon.
Gibbs stared into the fire as thunder rolled and torrential rain pounded on the roof of the cabin. He was itching to get moving back down the mountain but the weather made it unnecessarily dangerous to move in the dark and Tony needed more rest besides. His gut was gnawing at him; telling him they weren't safe here. Gibbs looked over at his sleeping agent, frowning with worry as the younger man shivered slightly then grimaced as if in pain. Gibbs took the blanket that pooled around his waist when Tony sat up and re-covered him with it, then sat down in the chair to watch over him. After a while, he began to relax; the pain of his own cuts, bruises, and bang to the head fading. Weariness crept in and lulled by warmth of the fire, he fell into a light sleep as the storm continued to rage outside.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Using binoculars he'd found inside, Sloane watched the cabin from his vantage point in the trees. He'd carefully selected his perch to allow him to see in the front room windows. At first, he saw little except the swing of flashlight beams in the windows, indicating they were searching the cabin. They would find Harris and know he'd been there.
He hadn't gone there with the intention of killing his partner in crime, but rather to warn him so they could split the hidden money from the robbery and go their separate ways. His unexpected arrival on foot had surprised Harris. There was no sign of his brother and he'd found his partner preparing to leave; obviously planning to take the entire haul, including the two brothers' share. They'd argued and the altercation turned physical. Harris had fallen and banged his head on a table. While he lay stunned, Sloane pulled one of the agents' handguns from his pack and calmly shot his partner.
He'd concealed the body out of plain view in the back storeroom, packed the money, and put on rain gear Harris kept in the cabin for hunting. Aware there were a couple cans of gas and kerosene in the crawlspace under the front porch, he topped off the gas tank on the bike. Just as he finished and replaced the can, a dim light in the trees caught his eye. He swore as he realized it could only be the two federal agents making their way up the path to the cabin. Not only had they found it, they'd managed to make good time.
As the flashlights grew closer, he was furious that he had no time to make another plan. He quickly yanked the battery off the bike so the agents couldn't take it and leave him stranded here, then headed to the woods opposite the path. He barely had time to get off the porch and inside the tree line to conceal himself when the two agents staggered into the small clearing around the cabin, one slightly supporting the other. They cautiously went inside and now he just had to wait and see if an opportunity to deal with the agents presented itself.
After a while, his view of the front room improved as the agents lit a fire and a couple of the kerosene lamps. The light was enough for him to see the agents as they moved back and forth across the field of view permitted by the front room windows. As thunder rolled and lightning crackled, growing much closer, he surmised the agents decided to wait out the storm. Using the trees at the edge of the clearing as cover, he circled around the cabin in order to see inside a different window. He could now see the two men settled in front of the fireplace.
As a torrential rain began to pound down, he concealed himself in the crawlspace under the front porch. With a mountain storm raging, it would be safer and dryer than hiding in the trees. As he lay there surrounded by junk stored under the porch, he squirmed to get comfortable. He shoved aside some trash tossed carelessly into the space, including soda cans and beer bottles. He could faintly smell the gas and kerosene at the other end of the crawlspace, and that gave him an idea. As he lay there waiting out the storm, resentment building toward the two agents resting comfortably inside, a plan began to form.
After what felt like an hour or two, the fury of the storm waned, leaving the soft patter of rain behind and sound of thunder in the distance. He eased out of the crawlspace and crept onto the front porch, careful to stay below the window. The padlock used to secure the front door when the cabin wasn't being used hung loose in its hasp. Sloane slipped it through the loop and winced at the loud click as he pushed the lock closed. Sneaking a quick look in the window, he could see by the light of the dying fire that both agents appeared to be asleep, or at least not completely on alert. It was time to put his plan into action. He likely wouldn't get a better opportunity to deal with the agents, his partner's body, and throw off the ongoing investigation.
He rolled the dirt bike off the porch and replaced the battery, glad to get the extra weight out of his pack. He gathered the items he needed from among the detritus under the front porch then dragged out the cans of gas and kerosene.
Working his way quickly and stealthily around the cabin, he sloshed kerosene liberally across the front porch and on the outer walls, counting on the oily, flammable liquid to ignite the wet wood. Tossing the empty can aside as he reached the rear of the cabin, he quickly circled back around to the edge of the porch and used the can of gas to make the remainder of his preparations. He double-checked the weapon shoved in his belt, fully prepared to use it if the agents managed to escape the cabin. With that done, he gathered his things and set the porch alight. He stepped back a few feet, watching with a cold smile as flames spread quickly across the porch and around the perimeter of the cabin.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Gibbs gave a start as a noise woke him from a light doze. His heart pounded as he realized he had let his guard down. He shook his head to clear the fog from his brain, silently cursing himself. How long had he been asleep? He glanced at his watch and realized about an hour had passed.
Tony hadn't moved and he looked around, trying to figure out what woke him. His gut twinged; something was wrong. Snatching Tony's weapon from the chair cushion, he stood and raised the gun; searching the room with sharp eyes. He could smell kerosene and heard something beyond the soft, steady rain on the roof. He turned and was horrified to see the glow of flames in the window overlooking the porch.
"DiNozzo!" he shouted urgently. No sooner had he shouted his partner's name, than something smashed through the window in the kitchen area. A bottle stuffed with a lit rag shattered on the floor, sending a spray of flaming liquid across part of the room.
Tony woke suddenly at the noise, his body jerking at being startled out of sleep and he tumbled off the sofa to land hard on the wood floor. He hissed at the reawakening pain in his torso and clutched his ribs, blinking around the room with confusion. His eyes widened and adrenaline flooded him as he saw the flames spreading across the room. Suddenly Gibbs was there, a hand extended to help him up off the floor.
Tony saw that one of their packs had already been lost to the fire and snatched the other quickly; pulling it away from the spreading flames. Then he took the offered hand and with Gibbs' help, he gained his feet. Gibbs dragged him to the front door, and then kicked the door in frustration and growing apprehension as it appeared to be locked from the outside. They started to the back room when a second bottle crashed through the opposite window and set that side of the room ablaze. Gibbs kept them moving into the back room and slammed the door behind them. They both were beginning to cough as the flames spread rapidly and the cabin began to fill with smoke.
Gibbs snatched a throw off the foot of the bed and wrapped his arm, preparing to smash one of the windows. Flames were creeping along the sides of the cabin too, but they had no choice now that the front room was nearly fully engulfed in fire, and it wouldn't be long before this room was too.
"Wait Boss!" Tony yelled over the noise of the fire, then leaned over and coughed hard.
"DiNozzo?" Gibbs questioned.
"He's probably hiding nearby, waiting to see if we make it out," Tony said once he'd caught his breath. "We break both windows at the same time and see if one of us draws his fire," Tony said as he took another blanket off the bed and moved to the opposite window. "Then we go out the other window and hope we make it into the trees before he comes around to that side of the cabin," Tony reasoned.
Gibbs nodded, grateful Tony's quick mind was still firing on all cylinders in spite of his injuries and the dire situation. "Ok…ready?"
He could barely see Tony's returning nod in the thickening smoke but as soon as he did, he shouted. "Now!"
The sound of more breaking glass joined the roar of the rapidly spreading fire, followed quickly by the sound of gunshots and bullets thudding into the walls on Gibbs' side of the cabin. Gibbs immediately ran to Tony's side. Tony had already tossed his pack outside, draped the blanket over the bottom frame of the broken window, and was climbing out into the light rain. Tony immediately turned back to help pull him out and past the flames creeping along the bottom of the wall, but he overbalanced from the weight, sending them both falling to the wet ground.
They quickly regained their feet and headed for the trees when movement caught Gibbs' eye. The light from the burning cabin revealed Sloane on the other side of the clearing, stepping confidently into the open and calmly raising his gun to fire, believing they were unarmed. Gibbs shoved Tony roughly behind him and raised his own weapon. Sloane's eyes widened at the sight even as he fired, surprise sending his shot wide. Gibbs fired a scant second later and Sloane staggered back then dropped to one knee. Gibbs grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him toward the woods and cover.
Gibbs cursed as he turned back to see Sloane rising to his feet, gun in one hand and the other pressed to a minor wound on his side. He had a look of pure fury on his face as he took aim and fired at them again, then shoved the handgun in his belt and reached for the rifle slung over one shoulder. Gibbs opted for discretion, knowing they couldn't afford to waste the small amount of leverage they had in Tony's weapon, since they had no extra ammunition for it. "Let's move," he said urgently, pulling a coughing Tony along deeper into the woods as bullets pinged off of tree trunks behind them. They hadn't gotten very far when an explosion shook the ground beneath them.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sloane stumbled as the cabin's propane tank exploded; thankful he was still at the edge of the clearing on the opposite side. He ran back to the bike to retrieve his pack before heading after the feds. He looked up from the bike as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed fairly close by, signaling another fast-approaching storm. He pounded the ground in frustration and fury as his problems continued to mount. His overconfidence and belief that the agents were unarmed allowed them to turn the tables on him. Now his impulsive actions and lack of foresight in starting the fire were going to come back to bite him in the ass. The cabin's propane tank exploding was sure to draw attention from somewhere around, even if the storm made it impractical to investigate immediately.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pack and pressed it over the bullet gaze in his side; the injury and the overall situation made him more determined to kill them both. He could still hear the two men crashing through the dense undergrowth. He put on the pack and moved to the edge of the clearing, concentrating on following the sound. It seemed like they were trying to circle back around to the path leading from the cabin down the mountain to the logging road. It would be a smart move on their part to keep from getting lost in the dark woods, since it was still a few hours until dawn. Still, it annoyed him to no end that one or both feds seemed to have some level of knowledge in navigating the woods.
Well, he had the local knowledge and had no doubt in his ability to stay on their trail, especially if they planned to parallel the path. The younger one of the two was also injured as he suspected; he'd been limping slightly and supported by the older man as they'd taken cover in the woods. That, and the weather, would slow them down. He set off down the path, following the sounds of movement and the brief glimpses of the flashlight they were using to light their way. Eventually they'd have to emerge onto or near the path, even if only to get their bearings. He planned to be waiting when they did.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Gibbs trudged forward as fast as he dared as another thunderstorm began in earnest. He kept the flashlight pointed down and in front of him, hoping Sloane couldn't see it well enough through the trees to pinpoint them. He was getting increasingly concerned about Tony, who was clearly beginning to have trouble keeping up with him. Tony's dizziness and nausea had returned with a vengeance and he walked with his right arm constantly wrapped around his torso, only removing it to rub at his shoulder from time to time.
He waited for Tony to catch up, feeling guilty for the necessity of pushing his suffering partner, but admiring his dogged determination to keep going. Really, they had no choice except to keep moving and try to evade Sloane. Preoccupied with monitoring signs of Tony's declining condition, Gibbs missed the tree roots protruding from the forest floor. He tripped and stumbled into Tony, who gave a surprised shout as they were both sent off balance. They both went tumbling down a shallow ravine cut into the mountainside along where they'd been walking. Gibbs grunted in pain as he slammed into a tree on the slope, halting his fall and knocking the breath out of him while Tony continued rolling down to the ravine floor.
Gibbs shook off the shock of the fall and cursed himself for causing it. His first thought was for Tony and whether or not he'd received any new injuries in the fall. "Oh God," Gibbs whispered to himself as he and looked down into the impenetrable darkness and struggled to his feet. He managed to keep hold of the flashlight as he fell and shone it down the slope; grateful it still worked. He groped his way carefully down the steep incline, heart in his throat as he called out for Tony and got no reply. "DiNozzo!" he called again, sweeping the flashlight beam from side to side and hoping it wouldn't be a broken body he found.
Tony was groggy and helpless for a long moment after slamming into the ground near the bottom of the ravine, and having difficulty catching his breath. He struggled to get up, but he hurt everywhere and his suddenly weak limbs refused to obey him. He lay there as the cold rain cooled his burning face; unable to find the willpower to try and move again. He'd just wait for Gibbs to come. The rain and flashes of lightning helped clear his sluggish mind and he could hear Gibbs calling out to him. "Here Boss," Tony finally managed to gasp out.
Gibbs heart leapt into his throat as a flash of lightning illuminated the craggy ravine and gave him an all too brief glimpse of Tony lying unmoving near the bottom. He called out once more and was relieved to hear Tony's faint reply. He scrambled the rest of the way down and knelt next to his partner, hoping the fall didn't do any damage worse than bruises. Tony looked up at him blearily and he felt his body tense in preparation to move. He laid a restraining hand on the younger man's shoulder.
"Hang on DiNozzo; let me make sure you're in one piece first," Gibbs ordered as he held the flashlight with one hand, and checked Tony's arms and legs with the other. He found no evidence of breaks until a gentle probe of Tony's ribs produced a sharp gasp of pain. Gibbs snatched his arm away as Tony's breathing grew erratic and his hand came up to cover the left side of his chest. Gibbs laid a gentle hand along the side of Tony's neck and frowned at the racing pulse he could easily feel.
"Easy DiNozzo," Gibbs whispered, reaching up to grip Tony's arm in sympathy. He was appalled that he'd added to the younger man's pain. "Can you get up now? We need to get moving again." It was long moments before Tony answered and Gibbs' attention shifted from the newly-injured ribs back to the head injury sustained in the crash.
"Um, I think so." There was a dazed, confused quality to his voice that ratcheted up Gibbs' concern. "You crack that head of yours again, DiNozzo?" he asked, and shook the other man gently, hoping to pull him out of his daze. He felt a little better as Tony suddenly seemed a bit more focused and actually huffed out a laugh.
He shook his head and replied, "Bent but not broken boss," a grin breaking out on his pale and drawn face. He held out his hands, signaling he was ready to get up.
Gibbs stood, then grasped Tony's hands and pulled him up.
Tony couldn't hold back a gasp of pain as he stood and immediately bent over in agony, right arm coming across to press against the left side of his chest and abdomen. He breathed heavily for long moments, trying to focus on the reassuring warmth of Gibbs' hand on his back as he waited for the pain to subside and for the black spots that crowded his vision to clear. "What the hell," he thought, beginning to suspect he might be in a little trouble here. "Something's wrong, Boss," he gritted out.
Gibbs watched anxiously as Tony breathed through the pain and held his arm protectively across his left chest and abdomen for a moment, then rubbed his left shoulder absently. Something nagged at him about that but before he could completely work it through, the crack of rifle shots sent them both scrambling into the dense trees near the ravine.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sloane followed the path, listening carefully for more sounds of his quarry moving through the trees and watching for glimpses of their flashlight beams. He cursed the sound of the falling rain and occasional bursts of rolling thunder that made him lose track of the feds. Suddenly, he heard a faint shout from behind him and quickly ran back the way he came, realizing he'd moved ahead of the men. He stopped to catch his breath and gritted his teeth at the burning pain of the bullet gouge in his side which had been reawakened by his dash back up the path. One more thing he owed the agents payback for.
Sloane left the path and entered the trees, following the sounds of the men seemingly crashing through the undergrowth. Then he caught a glimpse of a crazily spinning flashlight beam through the trees a ways ahead and grinned, realizing at least one of the men had taken a fall. If they'd fallen in one of the ravines he might have a chance to creep close enough to pick them off finally. He'd leave their bodies where they fell, knowing they wouldn't be found anytime soon.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Gibbs moved them as quickly as the darkness and terrain allowed, one hand grasping Tony's upper arm and the other wrapped around Tony's back to support him as they moved through the trees. He realized their adrenaline-fueled dash through the forest was going to come at a cost. Their plan to stay ahead of Sloane and get to help wasn't going to work now. Twice now, Tony had struggled away from him and leaned heavily against a tree while fighting past dry heaves. Each time Gibbs supported him through the painful bouts, then gently coaxed him into moving again. Tony had gone quiet now; he was getting worse by the moment and seemed only to be stumbling along out of sheer determination and some implicit trust in Gibbs' ability to lead them out of danger. He simply wasn't going to be able to keep this up. Gibbs desperately looked for an easier way back up the slope so they could circle back to catch Sloane unawares and end this hellish trek, but the limited view provided by the flashlight didn't reveal anything. Just when he'd thought they would just have to resort to concealing themselves in the trees and letting Sloane catch up, a dark cleft in the slope caught his attention. He climbed, pulling Tony along with him up the slope and confirmed his suspicion. They'd found a cave!
The cave was a perfect place to hide. An outcropping of rock hid the entrance from casual view. Even better, the entrance opened into a small cavern before narrowing further back and making a sharp turn out of sight. That would enable them to start a fire Sloane would be unlikely to see unless he was right on top of the opening, and they needed a fire. They were cold and soaked through; having abandoned their jackets in the cabin. Being cold and wet would only exacerbate Tony's condition.
Once inside, Tony dropped to the ground in exhaustion and pain, sitting with his back against the cave wall and shivering violently. While Tony rested, he ran back and forth out into the storm and gathered armfuls of the driest dead wood he could find. Tony watched hazily as Gibbs gathered up some of the dry twigs, branches, and leaves that had made their way into the cave via the wind. He quickly had enough to start a small fire and thanked Tony's foresight in suggesting they split the supply of matches between the two packs. If he hadn't, they might have all been in the pack they'd been forced to leave behind in their haste to escape the burning cabin.
Gibbs moved Tony closer to the fire, positioning himself where he could still see toward the cave entrance. Now that the cave was lit with the dim glow from the small fire, Gibbs coaxed Tony to lie down so he could check his injuries more thoroughly than he'd been able to after their fall in the ravine. The lack of even a token protest from Tony disturbed him more than he cared to admit as his partner settled back and rested his head on the pack Gibbs placed on the ground behind him.
Gibbs checked the bruised and swollen ankle first. Then he laid a hand on Tony's forehead and gently brushed aside some wayward locks of wet hair so he could examine the deep cut along his temple. Bruising had darkened around the angry looking cut. Using a small Maglite from the pack, he checked Tony's pupils. Although he thought they were still slightly dilated, they reacted evenly to the light. He sat back on his heels, confused. He expected a more sluggish or unequal response judging by Tony's increasingly frequent signs of serious concussion symptoms. "How do you feel, DiNozzo…you doing okay?" Tony's brows crinkled in confusion and his arms reached across his abdomen and chest again. Gibbs smacked him lightly on the thigh a couple times, then reached up and turned Tony's face toward him, trying to get the green eyes to focus on him. "DiNozzo, answer me," he said in a more forceful tone.
"I…uh…yeah, I'm okay Boss. Hurts though."
Tony's eyes focused a little and he appeared to be more alert again. "Before Sloane shot at us, you said something was wrong."
Uncertainty crept back into Tony's expression. "I did?" he asked, sounding a bit lost.
"You did. Tell me now." Gibbs insisted as Tony seemed to drift again.
Tony struggled to remember what he was trying to tell Gibbs back at the ravine. Why were his thoughts so muddled? "Uh…yeah. Ribs, chest, and shoulder. Something's not right."
"You think you broke those ribs in the fall?" Gibbs asked, smacking his leg again when Tony's eyes started to drift shut.
"Wha…?"
"Never mind…let me take a look." Gibbs unbuttoned Tony's outer shirt and as he grasped the hem of his t-shirt to lift it up, he glanced at Tony's face expecting a characteristically impish grin or inappropriate remark. His eyes were closed once again, but the tense set of his features suggested he was in greater pain rather than slipping back into the semi-aware haze he'd been in and out of for some time. Gibbs hesitated as Tony's hand crept up to rub at his left shoulder again and suddenly a knot formed in his stomach. Back at the ravine, he'd had a half-formed thought about Tony's symptoms and it had been all but forgotten when Sloane caught them by surprise in the ravine and fired at them. If he was right, they were in more trouble than he imagined. Gibbs laid his hands gently over Tony's lower left ribs and abdomen, feeling the heat of bruising and swelling. The knot in his stomach tightened even more as Tony grabbed his wrist and tried to turn away from the barest application of pressure. Not wanting to, but needing to confirm his suspicion, he reluctantly lifted the rain-damp shirt away from Tony's skin and gasped in shock.
"Dammit DiNozzo!" Gibbs swore heatedly as he took in the livid bruise covering the left side of Tony's chest. The purple-black mottling extended down past his lower ribs to his upper left abdomen which was slightly distended from swelling. "This didn't just happen in the fall...this happened in the crash. You were going to mention it to me when?" Gibbs shouted, knowing it was the fleeting feeling of panic and his realization that the younger man's condition was far more serious than he realized that made him react in anger, but he was unable to stop himself.
Tony's eyes snapped open and he flinched hard in the face of Gibbs' sudden anger. He tried to shake off the haze that kept settling over him, wanting to understand what he'd done to make Gibbs so angry. "Wha? Bosss…I do somethin' wrong?"
The soft, slurred query hit him like ice water and his anger evaporated. Gibbs closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, then resolved to convince the younger man that he wasn't angry at him. Second guessing his decisions wasn't in his nature, but now that Tony's injuries appeared life-threatening, he couldn't help but think so many decisions he'd made since leaving Walden had been the wrong ones. Their arrival at the cabin was probably what prompted Sloane to attack them. He should have taken the easier route back down the mountain toward help instead of dragging a man with internal injuries through the rugged mountain forest.
He should have checked Tony more carefully. It was almost certain he'd injured his spleen or liver in the accident; the fall and forced hike didn't help. He'd broken his own rule; assuming that the head injury was the cause of Tony's symptoms and that the shoulder pain was simply a bruise from the seat belt. The worsening nausea, dizziness, and confusion were the symptoms of internal injuries manifesting all along.
Tony's glazed, confused eyes watched him warily as he reached over and curled a palm around the back of the young man's neck. He gave what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. "You didn't do anything wrong, DiNozzo and I'm not mad at ya. Got it?" Gibbs' lips quirked up and he hoped Tony was 'with it' enough to recognize it as his usual enigmatic half-smile, and be reassured by it.
"Sure, Boss?"
Something about the wistful, boyish note in Tony's voice tugged at a long-hidden paternal instinct inside him and he reassured the young man. "I'm sure, DiNozzo. Just rest now." He watched Tony's eyes close and a sense of hopelessness washed over him as he tried to figure out what to do. Sloane was tracking them. Tony couldn't travel and he wouldn't get the help he urgently needed unless Gibbs left him, but he was torn. Tony was in no condition to defend himself if Sloane attacked, and he was getting steadily worse. Time was running out.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sloane re-slung the rifle and carefully picked his way down the ravine. The intensity of the thunderstorm was waning enough that he could still track their progress by the broken branches and occasional muddy footprints in the soft wet earth. The slope here was too steep to climb, especially for someone injured. He took his time tracking, knowing the feds were moving too carelessly to hide signs of their movement in their haste to stay ahead of him. He also had his own injury and exhaustion to deal with. The burning pain of the bullet gouge in his side was getting steadily worse and still seeped blood.
After an indeterminate time, he stopped seeing signs of their movement through the trees and undergrowth. Confused, he wondered how they evaded him. Surely they hadn't attempted a climb back up to the path? As he began to double back to where he lost the trail, the answer occurred to him. The caves! This part of the mountain was dotted with small caves. Over the years, he and Harris had explored several of them in the area when using the hunting cabin. He moved cautiously back the way he came, scrutinizing the face of the slope for cave entrances; no longer worried about the flashlight beam giving him away. If they were in one of the caves, they were trapped unless they were going to try and shoot their way out. Surely they knew he was well-armed with the guns from the cabin as well as their weapons.
Maybe once he found them, he'd kill them with their own guns then leave them with the bodies. The irony pleased him, but he wished he done it at the car. His reluctance at the time to kill two federal agents came back to haunt him; it only complicated and delayed his escape. Still, leaving their bodies in one of these remote caves had its' good points. All searchers would find would be their wrecked, abandoned sedan and a burned out cabin. Who knew how long it would be before the bodies were found; and by then he'd be long gone.
There! A faint glow some feet up the slope stood out in the darkness. He hadn't seen it looking from the other direction; an outcropping of rock blocked it from view. He crept up to one side of the entrance and listened while leaned heavily against the slope and catching his breath. He chanced a quick look inside to confirm both men were there. Oh yes, they were both inside all right. Taking shelter in the cave was a mistake; and a fatal one if he had anything to say about it. They were trapped but also armed, so he couldn't just go in shooting. There was another way. Shedding the back pack and digging through its' contents, he readied a few items to carry out his plan. Then he drew one of the handguns and took aim at a figure in the dim light, partially hidden by a bend in one of the cave walls.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Gibbs stoked the small fire a bit and threw on more wood, watching to make sure the partly damp wood caught. Satisfied that it would burn, he turned back to check on Tony. His pulse was rapid; his skin clammy and slick with sweat. Gibbs frowned with worry at the signs of deepening shock, and he leaned forward to try and wake Tony to move him closer to the fire. Just then, a shot rang out from the cave entrance, striking the cave wall right above his head and spraying rock chips over him. "DiNozzo!" Gibbs screamed as Sloane fired again. He snatched up their gun and moved further out of view, ensuring Tony was behind him and well out of Sloane's line of sight.
Tony jerked awake at the sound of the shots and instinctively moved to rise. He used the craggy wall to steady himself as he gained his feet, and huddled against the wall next to Gibbs. He was dizzy, wracked with pain, and frustrated at being of no use.
Gibbs fired off two shots, hoping to discourage Sloane from advancing closer. As Sloane ducked out of view, Gibbs pulled Tony further back into the cave. He was clearly in pain but his eyes were dark with determination as he helped Gibbs feel along the cave wall, looking for a narrow off-shooting tunnel they'd seen earlier. It would be easily defended if Sloane decided to come charging in after them. They found the side tunnel and Gibbs pushed Tony in ahead of him then turned to see if Sloane was following. A sudden bright flare from the main cavern had Gibbs cautiously peering around the side tunnel wall.
Sloane was pouring camper's firestarter gel onto their fire, turning it into a roaring blaze. What the hell was he doing? Gibbs ducked back into the shelter of the side tunnel in the nick of time as Sloane turned and fired at them again. The shot ricocheted this time, sending them both diving to the cave floor and forcing a cry of pain from Tony. "Stay down, DiNozzo," he ordered, then crawled forward on his stomach and chanced a look out of the side tunnel only to jerk back quickly as Sloane turned and fired again.
Sloane then turned his attention back to the fire and now Gibbs could see why. He was tossing handfuls of moss and wet leaves from around the cave entrance onto the fire, and thick smoke immediately started billow up into the small cavern. As acrid smoke began to fill the space, he could vaguely make out Sloane backing away toward the cave entrance and fresh air. Now he understood that he'd made yet another mistake in a night full of them; they were trapped. Sloane wasn't planning to directly confront them, knowing they were armed. He was just going to wait for the smoke to drive them out where he could pick them off, or for the smoke to overcome them. The smoke was already creeping into the side tunnel, sending Tony into a violent coughing fit so painful that tears leaked from the corners of his tightly closed eyes. As Gibbs held onto Tony through the worst of the coughing, it was clear he had to find a way to end this; it was now or never.
Gibbs dug in his pocket for the small maglite he'd been using to check Tony's pupil response. He pointed it deeper into the passage then helped Tony back to the end of the side tunnel and settled him on the cave floor. It would be the last place the smoke reached, and he hoped to hold off the inevitable long enough to confront Sloane…before the smoke incapacitated him and left Tony defenseless.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sloane stood just inside the cave entrance out of the worst of the smoke, watching closely for any sign of the two agents trying to escape the acrid cloud, or shoot their way out. He stood ready to feed the fire again to keep the smoke going. It was only a matter of time, one way or another the agents were dead men walking. They would either succumb to the smoke or would become easy targets if they made an attempt to escape the cave.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Gibbs considered his course of action. There was really only one thing to do; head back into the main cavern and hope the smoke obscured him well enough to get close to Sloane and get a shot off. The air was still clear here, so Tony would be alright in the tunnel as long as he was able to subdue Sloane quickly. He knelt down where Tony lay clutching his abdomen; his breathing harsh and eyes only half open. "DiNozzo, you with me?" Tony was lost in his pain and misery didn't respond to him, only continued to pant harshly.
Gibbs shook his head. It was becoming increasingly difficult to penetrate the pain-filled haze Tony kept falling into. He didn't want to do it this way but he needed Tony to understand he wasn't being abandoned. He cupped the pale, sweaty face in his big hands and half-yelled "DiNozzo!" The expected response came as Tony jerked; his eyes snapped open and focused on him instinctively, followed by a soft, agonized gasp.
"DiNozzo, you with me now?" he asked, keeping his hands on Tony's face in hope it would help focus him.
"With you, Boss," came the hoarse reply.
"I'm going to deal with Sloane now; I want you to wait here for me."
Tony's brow furrowed in confusion and he asked "Leaving me?"
"No, I'm not leaving you", he said forcefully and emphasized his words with a little shake of Tony's head. "You understand me?" Gibbs struggled to control his emotions.
Tony shook his head in denial and Gibbs was afraid he wasn't getting through to him, and then Tony surprised him. "Going after him alone Boss…not a good idea."
Tony was worried for him now. "Tony, listen. There's no choice now and you need to keep still." Gibbs put his hand against Tony's cool, clammy cheek and bit his lip as Tony instinctively turned his head into the warm palm. "I'm going to deal with Sloane so we can get you out of here, OK?"
Tony nodded in resignation and offered a simple "Be careful, Boss."
"Right…now you stay put." The maglite shone the way in the dark as he started back toward the main cavern. Part of way back, he suddenly ran into what seemed like a wall of smoke at head level. He backed up and considered the strange phenomenon. Something was preventing the smoke from making its way further down the passage. He turned the light onto the walls and saw the smoke being pulled into a fissure in the cave wall. He followed the fissure up along the wall and again saw the smoke being pulled inside it by a draft from somewhere…another tunnel maybe?
He stepped up onto a projection from the cave wall and jammed one hand into the fissure to hold on. This gave him a better look further up and couldn't believe his eyes. The fissure slanted away from the side passage and widened into a rock chimney through which he could make out flashes from distant lightning in a glimpse of the night sky. He might just be able to climb out, circle around behind Sloane, and take him by surprise. Sloane was mostly likely waiting them out at the cave entrance. Damn; it was about time their luck changed for the better. The creeping sense of hopelessness of earlier faded to be replaced with resolve and determination to bring this confrontation to an end.
Gibbs put the small flashlight in his teeth and began to climb, using the narrow bottom part of the fissure to gain toe and hand holds up to where it widened into the chimney. The smoke pouring into the fissure and up the chimney burned his throat and made his eyes sting. He had to make short work of the climb before the smoke overcame him. In another stroke of luck, the craggy walls of the rock chimney provided plenty of hand and toe holds for his ascent. Finally, as black spots were starting to creep into his vision from smoke inhalation, he reached the surface and pulled himself out onto the slope, gasping and choking for air.
He laid there for long moments recovering his breath and finally felt able to move. He staggered unsteadily to his feet and examined the slope to get his bearings. He had to be above the main cave entrance, so he slowly worked his way down the slope looking for signs of smoke….and there it was. A small plume of smoke and as he drew closer he could see a dim glow from the fire inside the cave.
Gibbs crept carefully up on the cave entrance, knowing he might not get more than one chance at catching Sloane off-guard. He rested his body against one side of the cave entrance and leaned ever so slightly across the opening, immediately catching sight of Sloane, who had his back to the entrance. He had one of the handguns and was preoccupied with watching for signs of them trying to leave the cave.
Tony's life depended on him pulling this off and the weight of that fact felt almost crushing in intensity. Gibbs closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he stepped silently into the cave opening, steadied his stance, and aimed toward the unsuspecting criminal.
"Drop it, Sloane!" he shouted into the cave. Sloane spun in shock and amazement at Gibbs' appearance and raised his weapon, firing blindly. Gibbs' shot rang out almost simultaneously, the two almost indistinguishable from one another. There was a long second or two before either man moved; then Sloane fell to the cave floor, shot almost dead center in the chest. Gibbs ran to Sloane, immediately rolled him to one side and cuffed him, taking no chances. Then he moved to the fire and kicked dirt from the cave floor over it, hoping to tamp it down enough to stop smoke from filling the cave. What was left would eventually clear out through the rock chimney. No sooner had he done that, than a shout came from the back of the cave.
"Gibbs!"
He couldn't believe his ears; not only had Tony disobeyed him, he'd somehow managed to get on his feet and make his way back to the main cave. Angry at Tony's foolish and risky attempt to get to him, he couldn't help but feel pride in the display of steadfast loyalty and frankly, infuriating stubbornness. God knew that was the only thing keeping Tony on his feet. By the looks of the shivering and swaying figure, not for much longer. He rushed across the cavern, reaching Tony just as his legs gave out from under him. He guided the younger man to the floor and held him as he alternately coughed and gasped for breath in the remaining damp smoke.
"Dammit, DiNozzo! What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay put!"
Finally, the coughing settled into the harsh, erratic breathing pattern of earlier and Tony went limp against him. Afraid he'd lost consciousness again, he tilted Tony's head back and looked down to see glazed and watery green eyes looking back at him. They were serious and intent as Tony finally was able to respond to his brief, but angry tirade.
"Sorry, Gibbs…I couldn't stay there. Heard the shots; had to know if you were alright."
Gibbs' angry eyes softened at that. "You should have waited like I told you, DiNozzo." he admonished harshly, but he tightened his arms around the younger man and rested his chin on the soft hair to take the sting from his words. They sat like that for long moments taking comfort in one another, and the fact that they were no longer being hunted.
Tony felt the long arms tighten protectively around him and sank into the warm embrace. Awareness blurred and faded; all he knew was he was warmer now; safe and no longer alone. Nothing else mattered.
Gibbs reluctantly released Tony and helped him back to the front of the cave where he was settled against the wall near the smoldering remains of the fire. "Ok, I need to take a look at Sloane's supplies and get the fire going again, and then we'll decide what's next."
Tony didn't respond to him and Gibbs watched uneasily as his eyes fluttered closed. He appeared to drift into that semi-conscious state again. Whatever combination of adrenaline and stubbornness that helped him move through the dark, smoke filled tunnel was now completely exhausted and Gibbs wondered if the effort made the internal injuries worse.
He checked Sloane, finding that he was dead and Gibbs felt no remorse whatsoever. The man was a serial murderer and did his damnedest to kill them more than once. He glanced over at Tony and felt bile rising into his throat at the thought of Tony being one of Sloane's victims, even if only indirectly. Shaking off those morose thoughts, he grabbed Sloane's pack and moved to build the fire back up. He found a mylar emergency blanket and covered Tony with it. He emptied the pack, finding various other useful supplies. He was thankful to find their weapons inside as well. He unzipped an inside pocket in the backpack and his heart leapt at finding a cellphone inside. It was either broken, dead, or off presumably so it couldn't be tracked. Gibbs held his breath as he turned it on and waited. He nearly shouted in elation as the phone powered on and showed nearly a full charge. Now he just had to leave the cave, get to higher ground, and hope he could get a signal.
He shook Tony, intending to let his partner know his plan but couldn't rouse him this time, not even with another gruff shout of "DiNozzo!" Gibbs was torn. He knew he couldn't afford to wait to summon help; every minute that passed now brought Tony closer to a point of no return. First light was still a couple hours away but if he could reach someone, they'd know where to start looking and they needed every advantage of time they could get. He grabbed two road flares out of Tony's pack, thankful it occurred to them to pull them out of the sedan's emergency road kit.
Gibbs shoved the phone into a pocket and headed toward the cave entrance where he hesitated and looked back at his unconscious partner. Despite his determination to leave the cave and try to call for help, he felt a stab of guilt that was almost painful at leaving Tony alone again. Steeling himself, he left the cave with Sloane's larger flashlight in hand and marked the entrance well with a second mylar blanket he'd found in Sloane's pack. He began the steep ascent up the slope, knowing the path between the cabin and logging road had to be close.
Gibbs climbed; fighting off stress, worry, and the exertion of the night. His muscles trembled with fatigue as he finally reached the top and shone the light around him. It was too much to hope for that the path was right there; he'd emerged into a dense stand of trees at the top of the slope. Knowing he'd be unlikely to get a signal here, he pulled a knife and headed in the direction where he hoped the path would be, marking trees as he went. The trees finally began to thin out after a short distance and he stumbled out of the tree line and onto the path.
He pulled out the cellphone and a tentative smile broke across his face when he saw the weak signal. God, he hoped it would be enough. He closed his eyes, sent up a prayer and dialed McGee's phone…and waited. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, McGee's voice came on the line. "McGee!" he shouted, hoping like hell his junior agent could hear him.
"Boss!" McGee's relieved exclamation was music to his ears. "Oh my god, we've been trying to reach you and Tony all night! Where have you been?"
"It's a long story we don't have time for McGee…listen. I need you to contact the Walden Sheriff's office and arrange for a search and rescue team with a chopper."
"We already have, Gibbs. Ziva and I are in Walden waiting for first light; we'll be joining the search teams when they go out. We found evidence linking one of the Sloane brothers to the case; specifically the murders. After comparing notes with the sheriff, we found that you'd gone missing yesterday and were last seen with Sloane. Director Vance sent us up here to join the search effort. What's your situation?"
"Good job, McGee." he commended. "The situation is the sedan is wrecked on logging road 5B, Sloane and Harris are dead, and Tony is seriously injured." He went on to give their approximate location and his impatience flared as McGee interrupted with questions about the details of their ordeal. "McGee!" he said forcefully, putting a stop to the junior agent's rambling inquiries.
"Look McGee, we can go over all this later. I had to leave Tony alone to get to a place where the signal was strong enough to make this call. I need to get back to him now. Tell the chopper crew to look for the road flares on the path between the cabin and the logging road. We're in a cave a short distance inside the tree line and down a steep slope. I've flagged the cave entrance with mylar so it's visible from the top of the slope. Tony's not mobile; they'll need a rescue basket."
"Got it, Gibbs. Uh…how's Tony?" McGee asked hesitantly. After a long moment with no reply, McGee wondered if Gibbs had hung up. "Boss?" he queried again.
Gibbs' tone was suddenly grim as he gave voice to the truth he'd been unwilling to acknowledge aloud up to that point, but now could no longer deny. "He's not good, McGee. Not good at all. He needs every second you can give us." came the sobering answer.
When Gibbs finally made it back to the cave, he found Tony slumped over onto his side. He was unnaturally silent and even paler than before; Gibbs hadn't thought that possible. He could no longer hear the harsh breaths of earlier and as he came closer, he could see Tony's eyes half open and glazed. For a heart-stopping instant he thought Tony was dead. Gibbs' breath caught in his throat as he dropped to his knees and touched the cold, colorless skin of Tony's neck, going weak with relief on feeling the faint and rapid pulse.
Tony was deeply in shock now and didn't react as Gibbs carefully moved the limp agent closer to the fire. He settled himself against the cave wall and arranged Tony's head and shoulders across his lap, then re-covered him with the mylar blanket. He put a hand under the blanket, placing one hand over his chest and feeling reassured by the heartbeat under his palm, along with the shallow rise and fall as the younger man breathed.
With Tony's fate out of his hands and nothing left to do but wait, Gibbs' emotions ran rampant. Tony's labored breaths seemed to grow shallower with every inhale and exhale and Gibbs could no longer deny that Tony had been dying by inches all night long. Now, with help so close at hand, he had to face the devastating possibility that it might not come in time to save him.
Tony had become an important figure in his life in spite of his own efforts to hold him at arms' length. A walking contradiction, Tony could amuse and irritate in equal measure. He'd be maddeningly immature and vain, then sincere and charming in the next breath. At times a deep-seated insecurity born of childhood neglect would surface, and then be covered by brash confidence. For all his vanity and bluster, beneath the surface he was as steadfast and resilient as they came. The young man was a damn fine senior field agent and the best partner he ever had. Even more than that, he'd gotten under Gibbs' skin; managing to worm his way into the hardened heart of a man who'd been nearly destroyed by the loss of his family long ago. Now it almost felt as though it might be happening again. Tony was full of energy and life; a force of nature for all his brilliance and all his flaws and Gibbs couldn't imagine his world without the young man in it.
Everything else faded into the background and all he could feel was the warm weight across his legs; all he could see and hear was the still form under his hand. Lost in his musings and absorbed in monitoring every raspy breath coming from Tony's weakening body, he almost missed the sound of a chopper flying overhead. Hope blossomed as he focused on the new sound. The noise grew closer then remained steady and loud, telling him the chopper was hovering nearby and that they'd been found.
He carefully shifted Tony's upper body until it rested against his chest. He shook his partner; wanting to tell him help was finally here, that he had something to hold on to. He placed a hand on Tony's cheek and slapped lightly. Other than the flutter of long dark eyelashes, there was no response. Anxiety building, he shook the body in his arms again, and then before he could stop his fear-driven impulse, he delivered a light head slap. By some miracle, it worked and he looked down into Tony's unfocused gaze.
"Tony, you with me?" he asked in relief. He was hopeful when Tony's eyes focused on him.
Then the irrepressible young man gave a sly grin. "What'd I do to deserve that one Boss?" he asked.
Gibbs could hear the pain in every erratic breath the younger man drew. "That's for scaring me, kid." After an uncomfortable pause he went on, "Sorry…you didn't really deserve that." Gibbs said, looking down and away from Tony's deathly pale features and attempting to hide the emotions he knew were written all over his face for a change.
"An apology, Boss? I must be pretty bad off," Tony croaked with a slight smile still on his face.
Gibbs should have been comforted by Tony being awake and talking to him, but he wasn't. He'd seen fatally injured men on the battlefield become strangely lucid just like this, right before they died. He was desperately afraid for Tony now.
"Tired, Boss," Tony murmured, his voice taking on a faraway sound and his eyes stared distantly. Gibbs grabbed Tony's hand and squeezed, receiving a small squeeze in return. "Help's coming Tony, any minute now. Listen…hear the chopper? I need you to hang on just a little bit longer," Gibbs pleaded. Tony didn't answer; he just shuddered then his eyes closed.
"Tony!" Gibbs yelled as panic shot through him. Still holding Tony's hand tightly, he spoke in the younger man's ear, "Don't let go, DiNozzo…don't you dare let go," hoping Tony knew he was talking about more than their joined hands. There was another small squeeze then he felt the hand go slack as the young man's body relaxed in his arms.
No, dammit…NO, he thought in horror. The pain of impending loss made his chest clench and his throat ache as he tightened his grip and shook his friend, his partner, and sometime surrogate son. "Tony?" he pleaded.
The green eyes opened halfway "Still here, Boss," he whispered. But then the pain and blood loss finally caught up to him and his head fell back against Gibbs' arm. Tony unwillingly faded away, no longer able to hold off the darkness stealing over his vision.
Gibbs' eyes stung and watered as he looked down on the peaceful, slack face. Suddenly unable to look any longer, he pulled Tony's body against his chest and rocked; waves of guilt and failure crashing over him. His breath hitched in his throat and despair seeped in like an encroaching fog. Not even the shouts and sounds of the search and rescue crew reaching the mouth of the cave provided comfort; not now.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
~Epilogue~
Gibbs sat alone in the Fairfax Hospital chapel. Back at the cave, he'd thought in his horror and grief that Tony was already gone. It was a near thing, but he'd been just barely hanging on by the time they'd been rescued. The small clinic in Walden was ill-equipped to handle Tony's internal injuries and the medivac opted for Fairfax as the closest major hospital. Tony arrested twice on the chopper, but the medics managed to bring him back. The flight to the hospital was easily one of the longest hours of his life. As they arrived and Tony was whisked away to emergency surgery, he'd refused to be examined and instead sought out the chapel to carry out this part of his vigil.
It felt strange being here, almost like a like a betrayal…as if he lacked faith in Tony's ability to pull through. The last time he'd been to a chapel, he'd gone to light a candle for Kate. Her death left a permanent scar on his soul and he still felt some responsibility for the chain of events that brought it about. He had no doubt Tony's death now would be far more devastating. The very thought of lighting a candle for Tony almost robbed him of breath. So he did something he couldn't remember doing since Shannon was alive…he prayed.
Long hours later, Gibbs sat in an uncomfortable plastic hospital chair and watched his senior agent sleep, finally out of danger and free from pain. He sipped from an ever-present cup of coffee and silently thanked again whatever power it was that watched over his partner. Tony had in fact, suffered a lacerated spleen in the car crash. If it had been treated earlier, it wouldn't have become life-threatening at all.
It was not only the length of time that passed before Tony received treatment that could have killed him. The exertion of grueling hike through a mountain forest to evade a killer, the fall in the ravine, and exposure to the elements played a big role in his deterioration and that was all down to each of Gibbs' decisions last night. Their long night evading Sloane made a relatively minor and easily treatable internal injury one where blood loss had Tony falling into hypovolemic shock.
Two agents; two points in time, and the courses of action he'd chosen put them both in the line of fire. He shook off the morbid thoughts. He knew that there was nothing he could have done to prevent Kate's death that day on the rooftop, but ultimately he did save Tony today and maybe there was some redemption to be found in that. Either way, Tony would recover and that was all that mattered now.
He was pulled from his dark thoughts as Tony shifted and his legs moved restlessly, the heart monitor sped up as his brow furrowed and his distress increased. Gibbs rose and reached over; taking his hand and speaking softly in his ear.
"I'm here, DiNozzo. I haven't left you."
The attending nurse who'd come to check on her patient watched in amazement from the door as Tony almost immediately settled back down at the sound of the older man's soft voice. She backed out of the room and closed the door, seeing she wasn't needed.
Gibbs sat back down still holding Tony's hand, satisfied he appeared to have heard his voice and intuitively understood that he wasn't alone.
Gibbs smiled as he felt a slight squeeze from Tony's hand and gave an answering rub across the top of the hand with his thumb. Tony had followed orders; he hadn't let go and Gibbs was profoundly grateful the young man was still with them. No, he wouldn't be lighting any candles for DiNozzo…not today. And not any day ever, if he had any say in the matter.
~The End~
