Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are fictitious, and any similarity to a real person, living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintended by the author. I'm just borrowing the characters…so don't sue.
I've rewritten this. Although when I've started this story I had a fair idea where I was going, I wasn't happy with my initial start. That's why I started over. I'll upload once a week on Tuesdays. Thanks for your patience and understanding.
Also a huge thanks to Imagine for playing beta for this story. She made everything sooo much better. ;-)
Jeopardy
By
Whashaza
Sniper
6 June, 9 am
The air was still. No slight breeze to compensate for. No excuses to miss. Gibbs takes a deep breath and squints his left eye to focus on his target across the plaza with his right. The telescope already tweaked to perfection is lined up perfectly on the door that would soon open.
A moment later two body guards exit and, though they look in his direction, he does not flinch. It wouldn't matter. He was too far away for them to see him laying prone on the rooftop a mile away.
The earpiece cackled and then the familiar voice sounded.
"Do you have the shot?"
He grunts, irritated by the intrusion.
"Do not miss."
He didn't reply to the command. There was no need. He was well aware of the consequences if he misses.
His target finally exited. A well groomed man in his fifties. Dark suit, probably Armani. Red and blue striped tie. Light blue shirt. Creases around the eyes. Brown intelligent eyes.
He takes another deep breath.
"Take it."
His finger tightens and then squeezes. He feels the gun recoil high into his shoulder. A moment later he was wriggling his way backwards, away from the edge of the building.
He didn't need to look.
He knew he had been successful. He had seen the brief blossoming of blood just after he had taken the shot.
Less than a minute later he was taking the stairs two at a time, double timing it to his car. He replaces the rifle in its bag before securing it in the boot of the sedan.
He was out the parking plaza and had just turned onto Main when two police cruisers sped past him, sirens blaring and lights flashing. He doesn't look back.
He knew where they were going.
*********
6 June, 10 am
An hour later he pulls onto an overgrown dirt path. The sedan bounces and creaks its way through the wild vegetation and he hears the scratches of branches against the side and roof of the car.
Ten minutes later he pulls into a clearing. An old log house sat before him. His expert eye could see the damage that had been done by woodlice and weather. Unkempt ivy crawled over the walls and the sound of a house wren's burbling warble filled the air. Crickets and cicadas added to the cacophony that surrounded the building.
He could feel a trickle of sweat make it way down the side of his face. The heat inside the car was slowly building but he ignored it. His grey eyes scanned the seemingly innocuous surroundings, expertly taking note of every breath, sound and movement that emanated around him.
If he closed his eyes he would see his team again. He would see their faith that he'd do right by them. That he'd save them.
Sometimes being a leader was a bitch for the choices you had to make.
When the chirping stopped abruptly, he looked to the left of the house and wasn't the least surprised when two men stepped from the shade of the porch. He gave a grim smile before exiting the car, his hands in the air.
"Where is she?"
One of the men lifted an eyebrow at his question and then smiled. Teeth white against the dark of his skin. Strong, muscular build. Shaven head. Dark eyes.
And very dangerous. He knew that now. Knew it with a hate that almost overwhelmed him.
The second man was olive skinned, black hair and brown eyes that didn't seem to miss anything. The silent one that had stood by as his companion had taught Gibbs his lesson. Oh, he wouldn't forget that lesson quickly – he would never ever underestimate the men before him again.
He circles Gibbs before expertly patting him down. A moment later, satisfied that the ex-Marine was not carrying a weapon, he steps away.
None that shoots bullets anyway.
Gibbs glared at them, his hands still in the air. He wasn't about to give them any excuses. Silence pervaded for another minute before the tell tale crunch and scrape of a car coming down the path interrupted. He heard the crunch as the hand break was pulled up and the creak of a door opening.
He didn't turn around even though he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and the familiar tightness in his stomach as muscles clenched involuntarily, readying himself for action.
He heard a second door open and the near silent blast of the air conditioner. Footsteps sounded on the dry summer grass that seemed to have encompassed the entire area. A moment later a familiar face came into his view.
Grey hair. Brown eyes. Amiable smile. Hands casually in pockets.
"You did well, Gibbs. Better than expected."
"I did as you asked."
Gibbs paused, wanting nothing more than to kill the man in front of him but knowing it would be counterproductive. Swallowing the urge, he held the brown eyes with his. He had no leverage. He had done as he was told for only one reason and everyone in the clearing knew it. They knew what was burning inside him, what had allowed him to do something as drastic as take up his gun to kill again.
He steeled himself, steeled his gaze.
"Now I want my people back."
***********
tbc