Tony Dinozzo paced nervously back and forth in the stone cell. Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Tim McGee watched him, each standing in a corner in the back of the cell. Gibbs, in the corner to the right, stood statue still. McGee, to the left, shifted uneasily from foot to foot.
They had gone to an old warehouse to capture a lone drug-dealer that had murdered a marine. That had been a mistake. They had been quickly surrounded, stripped of their weapons, and shoved into a car. They were driven to a run-of-the-mill, seemingly abandoned and condemned, old factory, and led to the basement where there were several cells. The whole time they were at the business end of a gun.
It had been almost an hour now, and Tony had started muttering to himself. Gibbs was seriously considering walking over and head-slapping him. McGee studiously ignored him. All of them became very still when footsteps echoed down the stairs and into the basement prison. Tony shifted to the back of the cell to stand between McGee and Gibbs. Two burly, Mexican men came down, a slight, pale figure dragged between them. One of them opened the cell door and pointed a gun at the occupants. The other threw the figure into the cell with the NCIS agents. They quickly shut and locked the door and hurried away.
The figure was a woman, a very young woman no older than 20. Her skin was a pale cream color and flawless, and her ash blond, tangled, curly hair was down to her waist. She wore baggy, pink and blue, plaid pajama bottoms and a sage green cami. As she hauled herself unsteadily to her feet, the agents estimated her to be about 5'4" tall. McGee noticed that her eyes were very dark, and in the half-light he couldn't see what color they were.
Very slowly, Tim approached her. "Hey, you alright?" he asked. She looked unsteady, with dark circles around her eyes and bruises on her arms and one on her jaw.
"Do I look alright to you?" she shot back in a scathing tone, a sneer gracing her pretty face. She suddenly looked remorseful as a look of hurt flashed across McGee's face. She decided she liked this nice guy with the boyish face and longish, dark brown hair. "Sorry, just a really bad day, you know?" She laughed weakly. She held out a shaky hand. "Rosalind White."
Tim took it. "Agent Tim McGee. And the guys behind me are Agent Gibbs and Agent Tony Dinozzo." Gibb gave her a sharp nod and Tony gave her a stunning smile. "You should probably sit down..." he looked her over concernedly. She had started shaking violently. Her pants were thin, her top skimpy, and she wore no shoes or socks, and it was chilly in the basement. Tim shucked his dress shirt and draped it around Rosalind's shoulders. He got relatively cold as well in just his undershirt, but he was OK.
"What's going on? Why are you here?" Gibbs asked gruffly. He didn't quite trust Rosalind yet.
"I'm here because I tried to ditch them," she replied. She had a growly voice for a girl.
"Ditch them? Who's them?"
"Padre Del Diablo's people. The gang. My former hermanas and hermanos. This is the cell they put the poor schmucks that are destined for the firing squad. Clear enough for you?" The snarl was back in her voice. She fidgeted, pulling McGee's dark blue shirt tighter around her. She sighed when she saw their slightly sickened faces, and slid down the wall into a sitting position.
"I knew we were gonna die," Tony said in a hollow voice.
Gibbs head-slapped him and said in a very firm voice, "We are not going to die, Dinozzo."
After an hour or so, Rosalind had regained her equilibrium, and was quietly watching the other three occupants of the cell. Tony had resumed his pacing and muttering, Gibbs stayed quiet and still in his corner, and Tim had crouched a few feet to her right, scratching at the dirt covered floor.