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This chapter gets seriously disturbing. You've been warned.
Title: Down Among the Dead
Story: NCIS
Rating: T– Gen
Genre: Supernatural/suspense
Warnings: Disturbing images, subject matter and language.
Set in mid Season 7
Summary: McGee disappears while working on a cold case. Can the team find him before it is too late?
Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda.
Chapter 2
A loud scraping sound echoed through the crypt and McGee looked up in surprise as the door started to open. He rose to his feet, unsure of what he would be facing, but preparing himself to fight. When the door opened all to way to reveal the intruder his eyes widened in shock. The man was big, probably five inches taller and eighty pounds heavier than himself. The man looked around the room before his gaze finally rested on McGee and he smiled.
"I see you've met some of my girls, Agent McGee."
Oh crap…
McGee's heart was racing, but he tried to remain outwardly calm. Before he could respond to the killer's statement the man continued speaking as he stepped into the crypt and pushed the door shut behind him.
"Only two of them, though, I see."
Finally McGee found his voice. "But not the other three." He wanted the man to know he was on to him.
"Three? Looks like you missed a couple in your research, Agent McGee. There are seven so far. Perhaps I should formally introduce you?"
McGee felt a twist in his gut. Seven? So far? Oh, God…
The killer smirked and pointed to the sarcophagus in the far corner on his right.
"Little Annie, five years ago this month. Her name means 'favored by God', did you know that? I guess she was named wrong… She was my first and she gave me a real taste for it. So beautiful, so soft…and she screamed so pretty for me."
McGee felt the bile rise in his throat and clenched his teeth, determined not to show weakness as the man continued, pointing to the sarcophagus on the other side of the crypt.
"Then Alyssa, almost four months later. Her name means 'the sane one', but I guarantee you, she wasn't when I got done with her. Then again, she didn't live long enough to mind…
"Next was Aurora, meaning 'dawn'," he said, indicating the next closest stone structure on his right. "I was over a year and a half since my first. It was so hard, waiting so long for the right opportunity, but you know what they say about anticipation? Too bad she didn't last 'til dawn," he grinned.
"Why? Why would you do this?" asked McGee through his teeth. He was trying to distract the man, waiting for an opportunity to escape or at least gain the upper hand. The killer turned his attention back to McGee before swiftly drawing a pistol and pointing it at the agent, his grin quickly fading.
"Don't even think about it. As for me, why? Well, I'll get to that. Now for the rest of them." He pointed to the next structure on his left. "Ashlynn, my little dream, six months later. She was a feisty one at first, but she ended up like all the rest. I took my time with her, just to teach her a lesson. She screamed even louder than Annie…
"Then there was Alexis, over a year later. She was a challenge, let me tell you. A defender, she was named well. She even managed to inflict some damage. I made her suffer for it."
McGee tried to block out the hateful voice, but nothing worked. Still vigilant, he waited for an opening to take this sick bastard down, but the man seemed to read his thoughts as grinned.
"Give it up, Agent McGee, and let me finish my story. My sixth was Andrea, nine months later, another well named little dear. She was strong for her size, gave me a real workout. I enjoyed it so much…
"Finally, a year and a half later, there was Aileen. My little 'light of the sun', which, of course, she never saw again. She wasn't supposed to be next, but my preferred target managed to slip through my fingers. Don't worry. I'm still planning on getting sweet little Aimee. Maybe I'll bring her by for you to see my work first hand."
McGee couldn't take it any longer. He had seen some demented individuals during his years with NCIS, but this guy…
"You sick son of a bitch…"
For the first time, the killer showed anger. He stormed over to McGee and backhanded him across the face. McGee fell to the ground and barely managed to keep from crying out. The man's hand had hit him with the force of a sledgehammer and his vision clouded from the pain.
"Don't talk about my mother like that, Agent McGee. Ever."
McGee covered his pain with a humorless smile and looked up at the man with hatred in his eyes. "You've kidnapped a federal agent this time. You have no idea what you're dealing with."
The man stared down at McGee, a predatory gleam in his eye. "You think you can take me, you scrawny little spit-fuck? Bring it."
McGee shook his head. "My boss is going to be looking for me, and then you. You'll have nowhere to hide from him…"
"The famous Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" the killer asked with a smirk. "Oh trust me, he's already handled. Him and your team. Your little intrusion has kept me busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest."
McGee felt as though his veins had suddenly been filled with ice water. "What did you do to them?"
"To them? Nothing. I don't really get off on killing adults, Agent McGee. I just meant they won't be looking for you, at least not here."
"What…?"
"Your team won't be looking for you, because they think you're already dead. By your own hand."
"You-!" McGee tried to rise but the man delivered a hard kick to his stomach and he collapsed in agony.
"Really not so far from the truth, is it, Agent McGee? You wanted to know why I'm doing this? Because I enjoy it. It's fun. Just like it would be fun watching your team tear themselves apart, wondering what they did to drive you over the brink. Unfortunately I won't get to see it. I have other plans."
McGee couldn't even get the strength to respond as he curled inward, trying to relieve the pain. He heard the man chuckle and then his footsteps as he retreated.
"Enjoy your stay, Agent McGee."
He heard the door open and shut again and closed his eyes, a smile ghosting across his features. The countdown had started.
Not as smart as you think you are, you bastard. I just hope I have enough time left for the team to figure it out…
Gibbs stepped out of the elevator, coffee in hand, and walked towards his desk. Tony and Ziva were already engrossed in their daily paperwork, but Gibbs was surprised to see that the fourth desk was empty.
"Where's McGee?"
Tony and Ziva both looked over at the desk, obviously surprised by the agent's absence as well. Tony was the first to answer.
"No idea, boss. Maybe down with Abby? He was gone when I got here."
"He was not here when I arrived. I do not believe he had been here yet." Ziva picked up her phone and dialed a number, listened, and hung up the phone. "He is not answering his home phone." She dialed another number and listened again. "His cell number is going directly to voicemail."
Before Gibbs could respond, he was interrupted by the arrival of the director as he strode into the bullpen.
"Who was the last person to see McGee yesterday?" Vance asked without preamble.
"I was, director," replied Ziva. "He was leaving to go question someone regarding a cold case. He did not return before I left for the day."
"Where?"
"Hagerstown…a riding stable."
"What's going on, Leon?" Gibbs stepped in front of the director and looked him in the eye, trying to get a read on what the man was hiding.
"McGee checked out one of the sedans yesterday afternoon and did not return it. This morning it was found at Sandy Point State Park."
"That's a long way from Hagerstown," observed Tony. "Wait, it was found? What about McGee?"
"McGee's wallet, badge, ID, and cell phone were on the front seat, along with a note."
"A note? McGeek was abducted?"
"No. From what I understand, the note was from McGee. Gibbs, we need your team on the scene. Immediately."
Suddenly everything became clear, and Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. "No, I don't believe that for a minute, Leon." He turned to the rest of his team. Ziva was staring at Director Vance in shock, while Tony's face displayed the anxiety that Gibbs himself felt but held in check.
"Wait, are you saying that he…? Oh, no, no way, not Probie…"
"Agent David, what was McGee's state of mind when he left yesterday?"
"He was…he was fine, Director. Normal. I mean, he has gotten much better at controlling his emotions, but I think I would have known if-."
"Grab your gear," growled Gibbs. "Let's figure out what the hell really happened."
Ziva and Tony scrambled to retrieve their backpacks and followed Gibbs to the elevator.
With Gibbs behind the wheel, they made it to the park in near record time. The two younger agents remained silent for almost the entire trip, unable to accept or even discuss what might have happened to their teammate. Gibbs ran through the events of the last few days in his mind, trying to figure out if he had missed that something was wrong with his junior agent. He came up with nothing, further convincing him that this was all a mistake.
When they reached the scene, they showed their badges to the state police deputies and ducked under the crime scene tape. The sedan was parked near the Bay Bridge, almost in its shadow. Several crime scene techs were standing around, obviously waiting to hand off the scene to NCIS.
"Agent Gibbs?" A tall, light skinned African American woman called as she approached the team and held out her hand. "I'm Detective Sergeant Grace Chapman. I understand this was one of your people?"
"What have you found?" asked Gibbs, shaking the proffered hand briefly.
"Down here, just the car. No impressions or trace around it. Inside we found a wallet and a NCIS badge with ID for Special Agent Timothy McGee. Those were bagged and tagged, along with the cell phone. We also found a note, typewritten, including the signature. A scan with the ALS indicated that there were prints, and we preserved everything for analysis back at the lab."
"What did it say?" asked Ziva, finally breaking the silence she had maintained since they had left NCIS.
"I'll show you." She led them over to the staging area and retrieved the evidence bag with the note.
TOO MUCH. I'M SORRY. GOODBYE.
MCGEE.
"Wow," muttered Tony. "You'd think he'd have more to say." He flinched when he received a cold glare from Gibbs. "Was there anything else?"
"We broadened the search to the rest of the park and to the bridge, where we found this." She opened a flat box to reveal a handgun, a SIG Sauer P226. "Is this what you guys carry?" Tony nodded, obviously unable to tear his gaze away from the box. "We also found a 9 mm cartridge casing in the same area." She held up a clear plastic jar with the casing. "Same ammo, too?" Tony nodded again.
"Was it recently fired?" asked Gibbs, trying to quell the worry that was working its way through his mind.
"Looks like it. We have a search team out with divers checking the area below where we found the gun. We haven't been able to find any witness, but I don't think I need to tell you how this looks, Agent Gibbs. I'm very sorry."
"Thanks. We'll take it from here, Detective Sergeant. DiNozzo, take care of the transfer of evidence. David, get the rest of the documentation. I'll go talk to the search crews."
"Boss…"
"Just do your job, DiNozzo. We need to get this back to the lab and figure out exactly what happened. We at least owe him that much."
*later that evening*
"What do you have for me, Abby?"
When he didn't receive a response from the hunched figure sitting in front of the lab computer, Gibbs walked up to her and touched her shoulder.
"Abbs?"
"Have they found him, Gibbs?" Her voice was subdued and rough from crying.
"No, they haven't, Abby. They had to stop for the night, but they'll be back at it first thing tomorrow morning." He put an arm around her shoulder. "It will be OK, Abbs."
"How can you say that? How can anything be OK, when Tim is gone?" She turned to face him. "Tell me we're going to get the bastards that did this, Gibbs."
"Abby…"
"No, don't say it. I don't believe for one second that McGee would…that he would…well he just wouldn't!"
"The evidence says-."
"I don't care!"
Gibbs stepped back, surprised by her vehemence.
"I don't care that his fingerprints are on the note. I don't care that the note was typed on his typewriter. I don't care that the gun was his and the cartridge had his fingerprints on it, and…" She reached the end of her endurance and collapsed into Gibbs' arms. He held her as she quietly sobbed. "Tim wouldn't do this to us, Gibbs. He just wouldn't."
"I know, Abbs, but—."
"No buts, Gibbs. He wouldn't. And I'm going to prove it." She sat up and turned her attention to the images on her computer. "I'm going to prove it even if it's the last thing I do."
Gibbs stood back and watched her work for a few minutes before he turned and walked out of the lab.
He hadn't expected anything less.
When he was finally able to move, McGee used the remains of the daylight to study his prison. He carefully searched the entire room, only to conclude that there was absolutely no way to escape. Finally, exhausted and thirstier than he had been since his experience in Somalia, he collapsed with his back to the empty sarcophagus. As the light faded and the room was once again shrouded in darkness, he sent up a silent request to whoever might be listening.
Please let them figure it out soon. We need to catch this guy before he kills again. Please…
He closed his eyes and eventually succumbed to the pull of sleep, never noticing the pair of inquisitive eyes focused on him, watching him from the darkness.
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. More to come after I get some work done on my other fics. Good thing there's a four-day weekend coming up. Woo!
