("I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." Gibbs refuses to lose any more of his family and in doing so regains every one he has lost. Warning! Character death.)
A hail of gunfire took out the remaining windows of the car, flattened the last tire holding air and added numerous holes to the body of the already peppered sedan. At the same time some other shooter in the house the team was supposed to be raiding decided to rake the second car, regardless that it was empty since Tony and Tim had circled the house to take the back. It did pretty much eliminate his idea of somehow getting to that vehicle and using it to pull his team out of this.
Right next to him, the two of them sheltering behind the engine block, Ellie Bishop raised her pistol and let off several round in the direction of the incoming fore. Since she only held the weapon up over the hood without sticking her head up the odds of her actually hitting a bad guy were less than ideal. But it DID let the opposition know that the good guys were still in the fight. Occasionally he heard a Sig fire from somewhere on the other side of the house so someone, Tony most likely, was hanging in there.
It was most likely Tony because Gibbs had already received the word that Tim had been hit in the opening volley. He wasn't the only one. Gibbs had hastily bandaged Bishop's side where her vest had failed to stop what were pretty likely 5.56 mm full jacket bullets. Of course it wasn't the vest's fault; it had never been designed to stop high velocity rifle rounds. AT least two had gone all the way through the petite blonde and even though she was gamely hanging in there he was desperately worried about the spreading red stain where she had been hit.
Taking advantage of a slight lull he popped up and fired several times, aiming for the window he had spotted muzzle flashes from earlier. A cry of pain reached his ears as he ducked back down. When the bad guys opened fire again there was one less automatic weapon firing. Great. That only left three.
They had been suckered in to this front the start. His gut had been uneasy but nothing he could pin down when they loaded up to go make an arrest in a simple case involving burglary of a Naval Supply Depot. The trail had been fairly easy to follow. Not easy enough to set warning bells off but enough so that a couple days of investigation had led them here. Led them right into a trap at an old out-of-the-way farmhouse in rural Virginia.
Could have been worse. The ambushers were all in the house. If any had been spread out they would have revealed themselves by now. Had he been organizing the attack on four Federal Agents he would have left two gunmen on the flanks to move in when the ones in the house had the targets pinned down. So they weren't complete professionals. So what? They were doing a damned fine job so far and he didn't have the slightest idea how to get his team out of this one.
It had been perfectly quiet when they had pulled up. He had directed Tim and Tony to take the rear before they had left. He wanted Bishop with him to show her how to take the front on what he had expected to be a routine arrest. He had waited while Tony and Tim went around back before he and Ellie had got out of the car. That's when the storm broke loose.
Once again thank goodness that the ambushers, heavily armed though they were, were amateurs. Instead of firing through the unopened windows or having them open to begin with the shooters had smashed the glass out with the butts of their weapons, delaying their opening volley. That had allowed Gibbs time to drag Bishop back behind the car almost in time.
The flutter in his gut made him add a couple of extra magazines for his sidearm but that was all. NCIS cars didn't routinely carry heavier weapons. An average local LEO car would have a shotgun available and many of them would also have a rifle of some sort that would be a match for those being used by the bad guys right now.
No point wishing for things. Although speaking of local LEO's where the heck where they? Before the car had been turned into Swiss cheese he had managed to call for backup. He checked his watch and shook his head. The ambushers had done that part right. They were way out in the boondocks and although the local Sherriff s Office was responding there hadn't been a car any closer than fifteen or twenty minutes away. They didn't have that much time.
To absolutely confirm that fear Ellie groaned and fell sideways, her eyes rolling up in her head as she passed out. Immediately after that a new burst of automatic fire from the back of the house was punctuated by a cry of pain. The hand held radio beside him squawked even as he reached for it.
"Boss," a world of pain came through with that first word, "Tony is down. He's hit bad."
A strange calm settled over Gibbs. He scooped up Ellie's sidearm from where it had fallen. Quickly he dropped the half-empty magazine and reloaded with a full one before doing the same to his own weapon. As he did he used the radio.
"How are you holding up Tim?"
"Not great boss."
"I need you to do one thing Tim. Use Tony's pistol too if you can reach it."
"Got, got it."
"On three fire at the house as rapidly as you can. Empty both weapons. Okay?"
"Copy," the wounded agent gasped.
"One, two, THREE!"
The instant Tim opened fire Gibbs sprang from cover and charged the front door of the house. He fired both weapons as he ran. Lowering his shoulder he rammed into the wooden door. Splinters flew and he fell more than ran through the opening. He rolled to his feet, both pistols searching for targets. One gunman fell and then another. Where was number three? He spotted him as he turned from the window he had been shooting back at Tim through. Panic overcame him and he sprayed bullets everywhere. Gibbs steadied his aim and punched two rounds through the man just above where his armor vest began.
The silver-haired Team Leader checked the rest of the room quickly. It all seemed clear. He knew he needed to keep his weapons up but they suddenly seemed heavy. So heavy. As his knees buckled he looked down at the expanse of red on his chest. The adrenaline fading he realized the last gunman's wild shooting at hit home. With that he fell to the floor. It didn't hurt near as much as he thought it should. As though they were a great distance away he could hear sirens and blowing engines as the backup roared into the yard.
"About damn time," he muttered to himself as darkness took him.
How long he was out he had no idea but when he was awake again he wasn't laying on the rough splintered floor of the house anymore. Soft earth and waving grass cushioned him. He could feel the stalks tickling his face as they swayed in a gentle warm breeze and he smiled. He decided not to open his eyes yet. He just felt so comfortable and at peace.
"Darn boy, are you going to sleep the whole day away?" rasped a familiar voice.
"Not now Dad," he replied automatically. Then it hit him. His eyes opened and he sat up. "Dad?"
"Well," Jackson Gibbs chuckled. "Maybe you didn't lose all your sense although I thought for sure you had. What in the world possessed you to make that fool charge? I suppose it's the Marine way. 'Hi-diddle-diddle, straight up the middle'."
"Seemed a good idea at the time Dad," he admitted. "I guess it worked."
"Pretty much so," his father replied. "At least for the rest of your team."
Never slow on the uptake realization hit Jethro. If he was talking to his Dad than it really could mean only one thing.
"Yep." his father said briefly.
"So I'm dead?"
"Dead? Not really the word son. Come home is more like it."
"And about time," a soprano voice behind him said. "Been waiting long enough."
A heart that no longer need to work beat frantically with joy as he turned around. He took in his surroundings. A waving sea of grass was all around. There was the lightest dew on the tips as the sun peeked over the horizon in that perfect moment of a new day beginning. There was the faintest tang of salt air on the breeze and he could hear the distant roar of surf on the shore. But none of that mattered like the two female figures who sat on the grass before him.
"Shannon? Kelly?"
The pair rose with a grace that would have taken his breath away if he still breathed. He drank them in. His wife. His daughter. Their hair was long and danced in the breeze. He couldn't decide what they were garbed in. Robes of some kind but ones that seemed to be more colors that anything else material.
"Jethro."
"Daddy."
"Oh God."
"In fact, yes," his father's amused voice put in. And then he was on his feet and they were running together and he was able to hold his lost child and spouse in his arms.
He had thought he might cry. He did but they were tears that were as joyful as the laughter that bubbled up inside him. Laughter that he let loose and that joined his Dad's, Kelly's and Shannon's all together. And when he looked over his Father had his arm around a woman. A woman who leaned her head on his shoulder. His mother.
"It's okay Daddy," Kelly reassured him. "We're all together now. And we will be forever."
And finally Leroy Jethro Gibbs was lapped around in love and warmth that would never grow old or stale. And he was happy.
(The End)
(Note: The lead-in line is from Second Timothy Chapter 4, Verse 7 English Standard Version Bible.)