Title: My Hands Are Tied
Author: Special Agent Meg
Rating: PG
Classification: Drama, Angst
Spoilers: Bete Noire
Summary: Ducky POV during the confrontation between Ari and Gibbs at the end of Bete Noire.
Disclaimers: If I owned them – do your really think Ari would still be alive?
The first words I hear are that bastard's: "You're older than I expected.
There's silence before I hear Jethro's voice respond with "Where are the other hostages?" and I hold my breath. Whatever that answer that jerk gives, I can bet it won't be what Jethro wants to hear.
"Box on the floor. Hands on top of your head. Then turn around and walk back to the door." The terrorist's voice is matter-of-fact. I'm hoping that for his sake Jethro will follow the terrorist's instructions, but I know he won't. In all the years I've known him, I've never seen Jethro put his own safety before someone else's. It's why he's regarded as the consummate friend and team member – and why I carry a secret dread that one day it will be his body lying in front of me on my table.
Sure enough, Jethro's response is immediate. "Not without Gerald." I couldn't be more proud if he were my own son – and in many ways I feel like he is.
"He won't leave here at all unless you put the box on the floor, your hands on your head, turn around…" If it weren't for the tape across my mouth I'd be grinning. Not only does Jethro complete the prick's sentence, but he adds a smart-aleck response of his own.
"Older doesn't mean deaf." That's my boy. I'd love to see the terrorist's response is to that.
"You want out of here alive?" Jethro's tone is almost conversational. The only reason I can tell the terrorist still has his gun is because the bastard is still alive and conscious.
"I'm sure Gerald does." Okay, did I mention how eager I am to weigh this prick's liver?
"I think you do too. That's why – very slowly now – I'm going to reach into this box and take out of it with two fingers exactly what you want." Oh crap. It would be just like Jethro to have a weapon hidden in the evidence. I hold my breath and hope he at least had the sanity to wear a bullet-proof vest, although knowing him, I doubt it.
The next sound I hear isn't a gunshot, but it doesn't sound like a voice either. I'm not sure what it is, but I don't have much of a chance to figure it out, because Jethro's talking again. "Surprise. You failed. Mission over. The real smallpox is on it's way to CDC. You want to talk about whether you live or die?"
Oh, boy. So far this bugger has been remarkably tolerant of everything Kate and I have said to him – especially Kate – but that was when he was getting what he wanted.
"How far were you from Quassam when you shot him?"
Oh, no. The thought has occurred to me that this is the first smart thing the guy's done – making sure he's far enough away from Gibbs if he were to fire a shot – and I'm getting this insane desire to laugh.
"I don't know." Translation: You're still screwed. Oh boy, this has got to be the adrenaline.
"You measured it for your incident report."
There he goes again. The more I hear the more I'm betting this guy is ex-law enforcement. He knows too much about what we do.
"37 feet and a few inches, give or take."
"Oh. You're a very good shot."
"I would love to demonstrate." The sincerity in Jethro's voice has me wanting to grin again.
"Funny. Special Agent Todd said the same thing."
I half expect Gibbs to ask this lowlife if he has that effect on everyone. Instead, he says, "Where is she? And the doctor?"
Like every other question we've asked him, the bugger ignores it. Instead he asks the dumbest thing I've heard him say yet. "Would you truly like to demonstrate."
The grin in Gibbs' voice is unmistakable but suddenly I get an icy dart of fear in my stomach. What's that bastard up to?"
Something slides across the floor and I cringe, wondering if the terrorist has just thrown a grenade. This time it's my gut that's saying something's wrong.
"Agent Todd's SIG-Sauer is in the box to your left. The clip is from the SIG-Sauer. Untampered. All live rounds."
Don't do it! If I could scream, I would. Everything in me wants Jethro to just tell the bastard to stick the clip where the sun doesn't shine. I know there's a catch.
There's a long silence and I realize Jethro is actually considering this madman's offer. Nausea wells up in my throat.
"Why?" Jethro's voice is quiet and my forehead breaks into a cold sweat. I can tell Jethro is fully aware of the danger he's putting himself in and that he's going to do it anyway, because he's a team player who won't leave a man behind.
"Why not?" I feel sick.
Several shots go off and in the drawer below me Kate gives a muffled yelp. I've never felt so helpless in my life.