Chapter 3
"Who will be having control of the crime scene, Gibbs?" Ziva asked.
"Who cares?" Tony shouted back, even though the helmets dimmed the roar of the helicopter to manageable levels. "I just want to get McGee out of there alive!"
"As do I, but this is something we must also consider. If McGee was correct, then we have members of the FBI, CIA and NSA all murdered, along with a pilot and a member of NCIS! Who knows what the man's motives were. Who was his real target? Was he working alone? It is important to think about it!"
"Not right now!"
"Shut up both of you!" Gibbs leaned forward. "How much longer 'til we get near the area?"
"Another few minutes we'll be on the leading edge, Agent Gibbs," the pilot said. "Really, we should be seeing smoke from the crash site any time now."
"Not if it didn't blow up!" Tony protested.
The pilot didn't bother to answer. Obviously, the plane hadn't blown up on impact but no fires at all? That was unlikely.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"There!"
It was smoke.
The pilot silently veered in the indicated direction without making a single comment.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
The plane had not blown up, but it was eerily silent, even with the rotors of the helicopter still roaring nearby, and although they didn't admit it, no one really wanted to step inside, to see what had become of their friend. The nose of the plane was crumpled, the wings were broken, and there was no sign of the landing gear, deployed or otherwise. It was miracle that the plane was as intact as it was. The paramedics would be there shortly, but there was no way Gibbs, Tony and Ziva had any intentions of waiting no matter how secretly afraid they were to see if Tim was still alive.. The plane had taken out a wide swath of trees and there were smoldering embers all around, smoke coming from various and sundry small fires, none of which appeared to be too serious. Still, that was no reason to delay getting to Tim and getting him out of the plane, hopefully still alive.
It took some doing to get into the plane at all. The main entry was jammed. Ziva had about decided to climb in through the shattered cockpit windows when they finally managed to get the door open...and were greeted by their first corpse: that of the copilot. He had apparently been flung against the door and when they finally got it open, he fell out, down the steps, nearly on top of them. After that momentary shock, Ziva was the first inside because she was the one who recovered from her surprise the fastest. Barely waiting for them to stabilize the steps (which were built into the door), she scrambled up ahead of them into the plane...and then stopped. Tony and Gibbs joined her quickly but they too were momentarily taken aback by the scene which greeted them. Keating and another hadn't even managed to get out of their seatbelts before being shot.
"A bunch of geeks," Tony said softly, but for once, that term held no derision at all. It was only regret. "Who'd want to kill them?"
"McGee?" Gibbs called.
There was no response.
Don't be dead. Please, don't be dead.
There wasn't room enough for them all to walk down the aisle at once. Gibbs gestured for Ziva to check out the cockpit as he and Tony moved toward the back of the plane. It wasn't a large plane by any means, although Tony would, more than likely, complain that the FBI got the nice stuff while they were still using CODs to get around. ...later, he would complain. Not now.
"McGee!"
A low, soft moan of pain answered Tony's call this time. No words, just a sound. It was enough, however, to have all three of them picking their way through to the back of the plane...where Tim was lying on the floor. Even by very low standards, he looked horrible. He had, apparently, belted two shirts around his waist, both of which were blood-soaked. There were flecks of blood on his face going along with numerous small gashes, and beneath the blood, he was ashen, seemingly bloodless.
Gibbs holstered his gun and knelt beside Tim. There was so little room to maneuver.
"McGee," he said softly.
Tim's eyes flickered open.
"Boss, it hurts," he whispered, his eyes filled with pain.
"I know, McGee. Paramedics are on their way. They should be here soon. I'm going to put pressure on your leg, okay?"
Tim shook his head, a tear mixing with the drying blood. "No, please, no."
"We have to stop the bleeding, Probie," Tony said, hovering over them.
"Too late...anyway."
"No! No, McGee, you will not think like that," Gibbs ordered and began to apply pressure to the center of the bloody shirts. Tim writhed weakly.
"Stop...please..."
"No, McGee."
"Please," Tim whimpered. "I don't want..."
"Tell me what happened," Gibbs ordered gently, trying to keep his mind off the possibility of Tim dying.
Tim's eyes closed and a shudder rippled through his body. Tears poured down his cheeks.
"Come on, Probie. Stay with us."
With obvious effort, Tim's eyes opened. His gaze traveled over them all.
"We...were talking." He had to stop to breathe, a painful, dangerous-sounding wheeze. "...mountains."
"And?"
"Shots fired...from the...the cockpit and suddenly..." Tim opened his eyes again, straining to keep himself alert even as he continued to tremble in pain from the pressure Gibbs was exerting on his wound. "...suddenly firing in the cabin. So...fast."
"Did he say anything, Probie?"
Tim shook his head. "Nothing. People died...then, he died."
"And after that?"
"Went to the cockpit...called for help."
"Yeah, we heard all that."
Tim made an effort to smile. "My dad would...have been...proud that I remembered how to officially ask for assistance."
"Mayday, mayday," Tony said. "How hard is that?"
"No," Tim said and swallowed hard. "No...it's...three...times...not official...otherwise..." His eyelids fluttered closed.
Tony and Ziva both knelt down, somehow finding space among the debris.
"McGee! McGee, stay awake," Ziva pled.
Gibbs said nothing but pressed harder on Tim's hip wringing a strangled moan from his injured agent.
"Let's see them baby greens, Probie."
"...dying'd be...easier, you know," he whispered.
"I don't care, McGee," Gibbs said. "You're not dying while I'm here."
Tim squinted up at him. "You...could...step outside." He let out a breathy laugh.
Tony grinned. "Not gonna happen, McGee."
"Wait, I hear the other helicopter." Ziva stood and ran to the door. She nearly flew down the steps and ran to the clearing, watching as their chopper lifted off to give the paramedics space to land. She waved her hands and gestured for them to follow her.
"There's barely enough room to get the stretcher in there," one of the EMTs commented. "We might have to do some maneuvering. They certainly cram stuff in small spaces, don't they."
"Tony!" Ziva called. "Is there anything we can do? There are three of us."
"Possibly. Probably the best thing is for you all to get out of the way...if you can."
"What?" Tony asked.
"The paramedics are here. We will be in the way."
It was a testament to how worried Tony was that he didn't complain or make any snide comments. Instead, he moved back to let them bring in the stretcher and watched anxiously as they gently but firmly moved Gibbs aside. Their faces were grave and did not lighten a bit as they evaluated Tim's condition.
"Fracture?"
"Definitely. Possible partial instability."
"He's lost a lot of blood...not enough for arterial, thank goodness."
"Sir? Can you tell me your name?"
Tim had been moaning softly as they probed his injury. "T-Tim. McGee."
"Okay, Tim. We're going to roll you onto the stretcher now. That means we have to move you. We're going to get you out of here as soon as we can."
"Do you have any other injuries?"
"He shot...my phone." One of Tim's bloody hands strayed to his other hip where there were the unmistakable remnants of an electronic device.
The EMT smiled. "All right. On three. One. Two...three." On three, he pushed the stretcher into position as his partner simultaneously lifted Tim's battered body up just enough for it to fit and then gently laid him down. It was done quickly but not quickly enough to keep Tim from trying to get away from them. It was feeble and wasted effort.
"That's it. We'll get you out and to the hospital in no time." It was lucky that Tim's eyes were still tightly closed because the faces of the EMTs were still very serious. They met Gibbs' gaze briefly and, although they said nothing, the message was loud and clear: Tim could die.
Gibbs wasn't about to leave anything to chance. As they got Tim down the steps, Gibbs ran to catch up. He stopped them for a moment with little more than a touch and a look that said he needed to talk to Tim.
"McGee," he said, sternly.
Tim's eyes were closed again but his head moved toward the sound of Gibbs' voice.
"Boss?"
"You had better not die on the way. Got that? Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I don't have final say."
That wrung a pained smile from Tim. "You don't have f-final say, Boss."
Gibbs smiled. "Yes, I do. Remember? I told you when you joined my team that you belong to me."
Tim laughed painfully. "Yeah. Under...stood...Boss. No dying."
"Good. Safe flight."
"I wish..."
Gibbs nodded to the EMTs who continued on their way to the chopper. They were gone in minutes.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"How's he doing?"
"Bad. We need to get him back as fast as we can. He's lost too much blood. I'm sure his ilium is fractured, if not worse. Feels like a couple of bruised ribs as well."
There was a groan from his patient and the EMT turned his attention back on Tim. He was obviously in a lot of pain, and it was probably only willpower that was keeping him conscious, perhaps even keeping him alive. In his current situation, it was shocking that he'd managed to stay moderately coherent.
"Tim, do you always obey your boss?"
A smile revealed gritted teeth.
"Try...t-t-to."
"I'm glad. I'd hate to have you be one of those people who disobey just for the heck of it."
"Not me."
"Good."
Tim's eyes opened and he met the gaze of the EMT. "Can I make it?"
"Yes."
"Will I?"
"If I can possibly make it so."
"Can you?" He seemed almost pleading.
"I can help."
"Good...I don't...know if I can..."
"You can."
"Sure?"
"Yes." He didn't bother to mention the fact that he'd never seen someone in Tim's situation survive before...not that he'd seen many in this situation, but the few...delayed treatment, blood loss, debilitating fractures that could cause all sorts of internal damage... It could all easily lead to unpreventable death.
Speaking through the oxygen mask, Tim's eyes took on an edge of fear.
"Hard to...stay...awake, to breathe..."
"You can do it. You landed a plane. Staying alive should be a snap."
A tremulous smile crossed his features, but it was obvious that he was terrified that he was going to die. It was equally obvious that he really didn't want to either.
"We're not going to take much longer to get you to the hospital. Then, the doctors will take over."
Tim held out a trembling hand. The EMT took it.
"T-Tell Gibbs...sssorry..." The last word came out as a kind of sigh.
"Oh, no, you don't, Tim!" The EMT dropped Tim's hand in order to begin chest compressions and spared one second to shout at his partner. "Get us there! Now!"