Prey and Predator
by channelD
written: for a friend, who requested a story of Abby in peril
rating: T
genre: suspense
setting: Washington DC, pre-Judgment Day
characters: Abby and the team
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disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS nor of the Washington Metro.
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author's note:This first chapter might be better understood with a map of the Washington, DC Metro subway system, so you might want to find one online and refer to it. Failing that, here's a brief description:
There are five subway lines: red, green, blue, orange, and yellow. They cross each other a lot. The red line is in the shape of a U, bent to the left. Its ends both extend into Maryland. The yellow line starts in DC's northeast quadrant and snakes south. The orange line jogs a bit but runs roughly west to east. The blue line runs parallel to the orange line a good portion of the way and then drops south. The green line, finally, comes down from Maryland, runs parallel to the yellow line a bit, then heads southeast.
There are large stations where the lines cross and one can change lines. The three major ones are: Gallery Place/Chinatown (red, yellow and green lines), Metro Center (blue, orange and red lines), and L'Enfant Plaza (yellow, green, orange and blue lines). To reach the Navy Yard, your closest Metro station would be the aptly-named Navy Yard station, on the lower part of the green line, in Washington's southeast quadrant. It's about 1/2 mile from the station to the Yard. (I've walked it.)
And now, on with the story...
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Chapter 1: Discovery
There was that face again. She hadn't imagined it.
Cold eyes, cruel lips, unkempt hair. The owner of these undesirable features was, most certainly, looking her way.
Abby turned her head as her pulses raced. It's probably not him, she told her herself. There are lots of butt-ugly people in the world.
Yes, but not many who would have a reason to follow me.
He was about 35 feet away, sitting toward the back of the Metro car. When had he gotten on? She thought she'd given him the slip when she'd rushed out of her original train car at L'Enfant Plaza, even though it meant that she was abandoning the direct route to the Navy Yard. She'd grabbed the first train coming through—a west-bound blue line train. After her nerves calmed a bit, she figured she'd change trains somewhere and head back south on the green line to the Navy Yard station. She'd probably been wrong, thinking it was him, after all. What were the odds…?
Nonetheless, there he was again. Sitting too close by. Watching her. Watching, and waiting.
The train pulled into the Metro Center station, another of those where lines crossed. Abby sat casually as a number of people got off, then bolted with the last of them, even pushing some aside, deaf to their protests. Down the dimly-lit platform she ran, silently cursing the wobbly low-heeled "court shoes" she wore. Why does any sane woman wear these things??
Change lines? Double back on this one? Exit the station? What should I do? What should I do??
Red line! Toward Shady Grove or Glenmont? She picked Glenmont, as she had a couple more opportunities to change lines going that direction. If she needed to. Which, please God, she hoped she didn't.
A Glenmont train was just pulling in. Abby raced down the escalator and slipped in the car. Close, doors! Close! Please! The wait seemed agonizing. Finally, the doors did close. The car was crowded, and she couldn't see if the man had somehow followed her and gotten on, too.
The train started up. The air-conditioning was weak, and she started feeling drowsy in the hot, crowded car. At least she had a seat. She glanced up, wondering if there was someone standing who needed the seat more than she did. Ah, there was an older man with a cane. Abby beckoned to him and was glad to give him her seat.
And then she froze.
While the crowded car had prevented her from seeing everyone in it, it had also prevented everyone in it from seeing her. Particularly while she was seated. Now, though, standing as she was, a tall woman, and wearing her despised light blue (almost luminescent) "court suit", she was a beacon. A target.
I have to get off!! Obediently, the train rumbled to a stop as it pulled into a station. Abby fought to get to the door, but too late; the doors were closing. She stuck her arm out to stop them, and women around her screamed. A big man grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up and back, away from the door. "Missy, do you want to get yourself killed?? Those doors don't necessarily halt!"
Abby only gaped, words not coming. No! No! That was Gallery Place/Chinatown! The lines don't cross again until Fort Totten—six stops up!
Keep calm. Keep calm. That's what they tell agents to do. I guess. It's not like I've ever been to FLETC. But that must be what they tell them. Keep calm. You don't know that he's on this train…
And then she heard it; that ragged throat-clearing sound he made. She'd heard it time and time again in the courtroom. He must be close, so close…
The next time she heard it, she spun around so fast that she knocked a man's briefcase out of his hand. But while she lamely apologized, her eyes on the crowd and not on the wronged man, she heard the sound again, and her heart pounded.
It wasn't him, though. It was a pimply-faced teenager, reading a text book.
Trying to get her breathing under control, Abby found herself coughing. No! Stop! Don't draw attention to yourself! Water! Need water!
As the train rolled into the next station, Judiciary Square, Abby tensed, and hoped that didn't show. The car doors opened and she rammed her way through, without apology. Judiciary Square! I'm back where I started from, almost, near the courthouse. The difference is that I walked to the Archives/Navy Memorial station so I could take the green line. Should I leave the Metro system now?
Suddenly, there he was, on the platform, looking for her in the crush of early-rush-hour commuters and the endless tourists. He saw me get off. He saw me get off. What'll I do??
She knew she couldn't run as fast as she'd like in these worthless shoes. Running in her stocking feet was not an option, however. At least she could run in the shoes.
Pound, pound, pound along the nubby floor, up the escalator two steps at a time, turn, Where's the escalator for the trains going the other way? I don't know this station well enough….there! No time to look to see if he was following; she'd have to assume he was. Clatter, clatter, racing down the other escalator, sidestepping the few people who weren't obeying the convention of stand on the right so people can pass on the left. Jump off the last few steps; wobble but keep her balance and not fall. Thank heavens. There was a train at the station; bound for Shady Grove, of course, but she hoped to be off it long before it got to Maryland. I could get off at Silver Spring and pick the lock to either Tim's or Ziva's apartment, she thought in mad inspiration. Dang, no, that's back the other way, toward Glenmont. She dashed in as the doors-closing chimes sounded, and she was on her way.
This car was nearly empty, oddly enough. No matter, it would likely fill at the next stop (Gallery Place/Chinatown) where the red, green and yellow lines converged. I've beaten him!! she thought triumphantly. He's not on this train!!
Then her joy died as a man pulled down the newspaper he held and smiled, chillingly at her.
At the next stop, she bolted once again. He almost caught up to her, and then she remembered she had a built-in weapon at her disposal. She screamed. "Help me! Somebody, help me! He's after me!"
Obligingly, three men built like linebackers jumped in and collared her pursuer, giving her the time she needed to race around a corner and melt into the crowd.
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Gibbs' phone rang. He was not happy about the interruption; it had been a long and stressful day. Now it was almost 4, and with luck, he could get home at a decent time tonight. A nice evening with some scotch and a round of sanding on his boat, and he'd be content.
He saw the caller ID'd as Abby. "Yeah, Abbs. How did court go?"
"Gibbs! Gibbs!" He voice was low and frantic, and not in her usually pleasant way. "Gibbs! He's after me, Gibbs! You've gotta save me!!"
"Slow down, Abbs! Who's after you? Where are you?" He was aware that the rest of the team had risen from their chairs and were listening.
"Boyers! Not Boyers the defendant, but Boyers his brother! He was watching me while I testified!!"
"Louis Boyers. Abby, of course he would have been watching you testify. I'm sure everyone in the courtroom was—"
"No, Gibbs; you don't understand! He gave me the evil eye look when I stepped down. And he's been following me on every train, and—"
"You're on the Metro? Which station?" he asked, but she overrode his words with, "Dang! There he is! I've gotta go!!"
"Abby, don't hang up!" Too late. He glared at his geek team member. "McGee! Find out where Abby was calling from!"
"Uh…based on one call, boss?"
Ziva already had her phone out. "Pick up, Abby; pick up…" she murmured, then her eyebrows raised. "Abby! Say the name of the station you're in. Just that. Good. Now leave your phone on!" She reported to the others, "Gallery Place/Chinatown."
"That's a huge station! How will we find her there…assuming she's there when we get there?" asked Tim, his brow creased in worry.
"Look for a lovely young lady in glasses and an unbecoming light blue suit," said Tony.
Gibbs slapped Tony's head. "Grab your gear! No time for chatter." He felt a shiver run the length of his body. Abby didn't panic, not like this, without reason. And the odds of finding her in one big station—if she did stay put—weren't great.