Chapter 2: "It doesn't show signs of stopping…"

- - - - -

"Abby!!! Answer me!!!"

A splash came, and Tim strained to identify it. Something rising from the water and falling back, he guessed. A second splash. "Tim!!! Help me!!!"

"Don't panic!!" he called. "I'll get you!" That was for her benefit, of course; inside he quaked to think what he could do.

Fact: She had evidently fallen in the river.

Fact: Where along the river they were, he didn't know.

Fact: It had never occurred to him to wonder what the water's depth was along the shoreline.

Deep enough to handle the USS Barry.

Deep enough to drown in.

He cursed the weather which made them blind. Where is she? Where's the water? It can't be far…

Knowing it wouldn't help for both of them to fall in, Tim dropped to his hands and knees. "Abby! Don't try to swim! Just tread water." You might head away from shore if you try to swim.

"O-okay, Tim. But hurry, p-please!!"

Tim cautiously felt his way along the pavement, ignoring the cold that seeped through his lined gloves. Then the pavement ended—it must be the waterline. See, eyes, blast it! See!!!

And then, to his enormous relief, he could see…just a little. The white-out was lifting ever-so-slightly. He could see his hands, and…there! A dark form a few feet away. Abby's dark coat! But he couldn't see her face, and so didn't know if she was facing the shore or not. "Abby! Look hard. Can you see me?"

Splash, splash as she waved her hands while treading water. "N-no…"

My coat is light grey. It probably doesn't show up. Or she may not be facing the shore. If only I could see a little more clearly! "I see you," he said. "Stay calm. Keep treading water. I'll get you out."

"I—I'm s-s-s-o c-cold, Tim."

"I'll have you out in a jiffy." Though he knew that it would be better to pull her to shore, if she couldn't see the shore, she wouldn't see any rescue device, like a branch or rope, of which he had neither anyway. He'd have to go into the water.

Standing up, he shed his coat and shoes, both of which would be weights in the water. That Abby still had her head above water while wearing a long, heavy wool coat was a testimony to her physical fitness. Tim couldn't quite make out where the water line was, so he just lowered himself over the edge into the water, rather than swamp her by jumping in.

Oh, the water was cold! Realistically he knew that it was warmer than the air was, but that wasn't saying a lot. Get in and get out as quickly as possible… "Got you!" he said, an instant before he grabbed her coat. Sure enough, she was facing the wrong way. "Don't struggle. Let me pull you to the shore."

"Tim…oh, Tim…"

"It's okay. It's okay." She really had been only a few feet from the shore, but the water was clearly deep. He grabbed the collar of her coat and towed her to shore. "Hold onto the side here," he directed. Seeing her do so, he then pulled himself out of the water, and then quickly pulled her out.

They were safe…for the moment. Both were soaking wet, the wind was bitter, and they still couldn't see more than a few feet away. They didn't know where they were, and hypothermia was a grave risk.

He found his coat and shoes. Slipping on his shoes, he pulled off her sopping wool coat and wrapped his gray parka around her. "Tim, no," she protested. "That's your coat!"

"It's dry and will keep you warm," he said firmly. "You're just wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt , and I have on a turtleneck and a sports coat."

"Which are now wet!"

"I'll be fine." A plan. We need a plan. We need to get inside immediately! He pulled out his cell phone and cursed on finding it unresponsive after the dunking in the water. "Abby, where's your phone?"

"M-my coat pocket. T-there's a lined, inner pocket. W-waterproof."

"Good!" He found the pocket and the thankfully dry phone.

"What's up, Abbs?"

"Boss, this is McGee. Abby and I are in trouble. We're lost somewhere in the Yard. Abby fell in the river, and I got her out but she needs to get inside immediately."

"You have no idea where you are?" Gibbs thought he heard Abby say something, but couldn't catch the words.

"We can't see a thing! Somewhere down by the river; that's all I know."

"Okay, McGee. Leave the phone on. We'll find you."

- - - - -

Gibbs took a moment to look out the window at the swirling white that hid even the trees that grew close to the NCIS building. Think, think…

There was no time. Somehow, rescue agencies dealt with this. Somehow, they must find people lost in blizzards. Knowledge of how they did it must be contained somewhere…but finding it online, or finding the right people on the phone, would take time. They had no time. Gibbs knew they'd have to improvise—and he could only pray that he'd make the right choice.

After briefing Ziva and Tony on the situation, he sent them off running to get rope; heavy rope, as much of it as they could find. Vance was at the Pentagon, and Gibbs in charge, so he took advantage of this. He sprinted for Vance's office and turned on the public address system. "All agents, all agents! Put on your coats, hats and gloves and report to the front entrance immediately. Repeat, put on your coats, hats, and gloves and report to the front entrance immediately. We have a rescue operation. Anyone else, any non-agents who want to help, come along, but come quickly and dress accordingly." Then he phoned Ducky to get him and Jimmy Palmer on board.

Ziva ran in with a coil of 100 feet of rope. "Tony is bringing more coils," she said, and launched herself at her computer. "Has anyone tried triangulating Abby's cell phone?"

"Try it," said Gibbs. "I don't have a lot of hope for it, though. At best it'll pinpoint them within 50 feet. At worst it'll be blocks off. We won't be able to see them from a distance, anyway. Mostly, we'll have to hope that we stumble across them."

- - - - -

"Tim—aren't you—aren't you g-getting cold?" Abby asked. She could see him dimly now; snow clinging to his hair, his sports coat, his pants, and only melting slowly. Ice had already formed in his hair.

"N-no," he said, trying to hide his shivering. "J-just think w-warm thoughts. Gibbs will b-be here soon."

"G-Gibbs will save us," Abby said, firmly.

"I-I h-h-hate being r-rescued, b-but yeah." Tim tried to laugh, but the laughter didn't come. He wouldn't admit it to Abby, but he was scared. How long can we last out here like this? Half an hour?

"Sh-shouldn't we move or s-something? T-to keep w-w-warm?"

"N-no. If w-we d-d-don't stay p-put, it'll t-take long-ger for them t-t-to f-find us."

"I c-can't hold your c-coat closed. T-take it b-back. It doesn't f-fit me," Abby mumbled, trying to pull it off, fighting Tim's efforts to keep it on her.

"No, Abby; l-leave it on. You n-need it," Tim said, worrying at the confusion he heard in her voice. He remembered that as being a symptom of hypothermia—along with the strange desire to take off layers of clothes.

"I don't care," she said thickly.

"H-help is c-coming, Abby. You've g-got to believe that."

"T-too many layers. C-c'mon Tim; you t-take off a l-layer, too."

"No, Abby. Y-you're getting c-cold and c-confused. We have to k-keep all l-layers on. Gibbs would w-want us to."

"G-Gibbs…" She stopped struggling and lay on the ground on her back, letting the snow drift down and hit her face. "S' pretty…" she said.

How long would it take Gibbs to come?! Assuming Gibbs could somehow find them, when they couldn't find NCIS… Tim suddenly noticed her eyes were shut. He thought about saying to her that she mustn't fall asleep, but he realized he couldn't remember why falling asleep was a bad thing. Surely it would make the time go faster. And he did feel sleepy. Forget the cold, forget the icicles on your nose, just close your eyes for a little while. Just a little while…

- - - - -

It was a long 15 minutes before everyone was in place in the hallway at the NCIS front entrance. Gibbs knew there were 14 special agents on duty now (13, minus Tim); a quick glance at the crowd showed that all were there. There were about 40 other people in the group as well: Intel analysts, the mail clerk, a couple security guards who'd been about to go off shift, people from a number of divisions. While two ex-Navy men tied the six lengths of rope together, Gibbs ticked off positions and made assignments. "When we go out there, we'll be heading for the river, working slowly to the east. It's more likely that they're on the eastern edge of the Yard than closer here, since the fences near the Barry should have kept Abby from falling in. Try to space yourselves fairly evenly along the rope. Do not let go of the rope unless I say you can. We don't want to have to search for you, too. You find Abby and McGee—yell, but don't let go of the rope. Got that? Okay, let's go; they're running out of time."

He nodded as Jimmy and Ducky came up, carrying equipment and stretchers. "Timothy may need to be carried out as well," Ducky observed. "I do hope I'm wrong, though."

Gibbs stationed the three college interns just outside the entrance, after one of the ex-Navy men securely tied one end of the rope to a lamppost. The young people would be in the best shape to be essentially standing still with the rope (obviously, they could bounce up and down to stay warm). The next in line with the rope were cautioned not to stay in the street with it, for there was a chance that a vehicle would come by. The rope was limp in the street, and only picked up again by the next person in line across the street in Willard Park.

The people quickly took up positions as the rope was played out. Gibbs made them hustle, in fact. He was desperately worried about Abby. Had she been wearing that long wool coat? That would just trap water.

He put Ziva at the very front of the line, even in front of himself. "You're shorter than I am," he said, seeing her surprise at her assignment. "That puts you closer to the ground. They're probably down, so you might be able to spot them before I do." He whistled shrilly, and the long rope line moved out.

Ziva let her instincts lead her. Head south toward the Barry—she kept an eye on the compass Gibbs had loaned her—and veer off to the east just before getting to the fences at the Barry's pier. "Abby!" people called. "McGee!" Ziva didn't join in the calls, she was instead looking and listening. Odd that I, growing up in nearly-snowless Israel, would be leading a group through the snow…

She stopped suddenly, thinking she'd heard something. Yes, a sound like sobbing. "Abby?" she asked softly, then louder, "Abby! Answer me!" There was no answer and she started to think she'd imagined it all.

"Abby!!" Gibbs bellowed. He hadn't heard what Ziva had heard, but he believed in her. "McGee! Answer me!!"

"There!" cried Tony, who was just behind Gibbs on the rope. "To the right!"

"You let go of the rope, DiNozzo, and I'll throw you in the river," Gibbs snapped. Tony shrugged and waited while the rope line pulled toward the vague shape he saw a few feet away.

"Abby!" Gibbs cried, pulling the rope line in her direction. She was squatting, and wearing, curiously, Tim's grey coat. "Ducky!" he yelled. "Get up here!"

"He won't wake up! He won't wake up!" Abby was crying hoarsely. Tears froze in her eyelashes. "I try to wake him up, but he won't do it. I think he's dead. Wake up, Tim, please…"

The rescuers gazed in horror at Tim's still body, which was curled into a fetal position. Ice hung on all his clothes, and his exposed skin was blue and white.

"Wake up, Tim; please…"