The black dodge neon rental car containing Agents Gibbs and David approached the large warehouse-esque building that was the Seattle Archery Centre.

The two had just received a call from McGee in the car saying that they had arrived in Denver and were about to board the plane for Seattle. They would be in at roughly 2100.

Ziva and Gibbs exited the vehicle and Gibbs removed his sunglasses. It was an unusually sunny day for Seattle.

Several cars and pick-up trucks adorned with camouflage and archery slogan bumper stickers sat parked neatly in rows outside the front of the tan building. A dog barked from inside the cab of one of the trucks. A golden Cadillac sat next to the front door with a war veteran license plate next to a deer shaped bumper-sticker.

Gibbs held the glass door open for Ziva and followed her inside. A long, bar-like front desk covered the left hand wall, next to it a door led up to the second floor. Across from the bar was a storage room full of boxes with prominent labels and pictures of black and grey wildlife printed on the cardboard.

A short middle-aged woman of Indian descent stood behind the counter with a phone cradled in her neck. She massaged lotion into her small chocolate coloured skin. She held up a finger as Gibbs approached the desk.

"Oh, alright… thank you… buh-bye." She hung the phone up and looked up at Gibbs with huge eyes. "Can I fit you with a rental, sir?"

"We're not shooting."Gibbs said bluntly. "We're looking for Lydsay Rutherford, is she here?"

"Oh, no. She's out in Olympia today. She's visiting her mother at the hospital there. She's dying of skin cancer." The woman shook her head apologetically.

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Not for sure but if you tell me your name I'll let her know you stopped in."

"She doesn't know us." Gibbs reached into his pocket and handed the woman his card. "Call me when she gets back in."

The woman looked suspiciously at the card. "Is she in some kind of trouble… Agent Gibbs?"

"We're not sure yet." Gibbs said turning to leave with Ziva. He stopped cold with his hand on the door. He turned slowly and approached the desk one last time. "What did you say your name was again?" He folded his arms on the desk and leaned down to talk to her. Her head was now three inches above his.

"I didn't. Salma Rodgers. Co-owner of the Seattle Archery Centre." She folded her own arms across her chest.

"Salma." Gibbs nodded. "I think you might be able to help me out. Do you know all the regulars here?"

"Anyone who walks through those doors either is a regular or will be soon. Why?"

Gibbs took the photo of the arrow end from the folder Ziva carried. He turned it and handed it to Salma.

"Do you know who shoots these arrows?"

"Agent Gibbs… all I can tell you about this arrow is that a long bowman shoots it. The fletching is badly applied, I have no idea who made-"

"Lyndsay Rutherford."

"Well," she handed the picture back. "Then it's a really old arrow. One of the first she made. Her fletching technique has improved immensely. Why is the tip missing? The arrow's very short…"

"Yeah. This is only half the arrow." Gibbs stood to full height again. "The other half is being surgically removed from one of my agents." He said bitterly.

Salma put a tiny hand over her mouth. "Oh, God. I'm so, so sorry! Is he… dead?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not yet." Gibbs said.

"Agent Gibbs… I really wish I could be of more help but I've never seen this arrow before in my life."

"You can help us by telling us when Lyndsay Rutherford gets back here."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs, of course."

"Thank you, Salma." Gibbs and Ziva left without another word.

Once they were out in the sun again Ziva spoke up. "Now what, Gibbs?"

"We wait."

"For what?"

"McGee and Abby. DiNozzo. Lyndsay Rutherford. Whoever comes first." Gibbs sat in the car and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"When she asked if Tony was dead… you said 'Not yet'. Do you think he will make it?"

"I really hope so Ziva." He put the car in gear and drove off.

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"Gibbs! Is Tony alright?" Abby attacked Gibbs with a hug when they met up at the crime lab in Seattle.

"So far. It takes a lot to down him, Abbs, you know that. McGee." The men shook hands. Gibbs looked down at Ziva. "Get McGee those measurements and find out what kind of bow we're looking for."

Ziva nodded and led McGee off to calculate.

Gibbs turned to his anxious looking scientist. "Abbs, I need you to find fingerprints."

"Anything, Gibbs. Is he out of surgery yet? He's been in for hours."

"Yeah, finally. He lost a lot of blood, he's not looking much better than he did when they got him up there. He's in critical." Gibbs decided to answer truthfully.

Abby sighed sadly. "Alright. What am I printing?"

Gibbs handed her the evidence bags containing the half arrow from Tony's shoulder and the bloody arrow from the captain which had been extracted during autopsy.

Abby looked at the bloody one nervously. "This isn't..?"

Gibbs pointed to the barely stained half arrow. "This was Tony's."

"When can I see him Gibbs?"

"Soon, Abbs. Don't go without us alright?" he warned. "Print both of those and get them to me as fast as you can."

"For Tony, anything." Abby said scurrying off to the lab leaving Gibbs alone in the small conference room.

He stood next to the window with his hands in his pockets. He silently cursed not having a boat to work on and seriously considered running off the Centre for Wooden Boats to think instead.

He was worried about Tony. He was selfishly glad that he had not been the one to find him. The sight, having not been forewarned, could have sent him into a blind rage. He would never tell anyone, but he thought of DiNozzo like a son. The son he never had. Much like Abby was the daughter he'd lost.

He thought back to when he was running to see Tony when Ziva had told him. She was almost in tears much like the night she had come to see Gibbs himself in the hospital when he was mentally trapped in '92. She had been a wreck then and was bordering that state now.

Feeling a sudden shockwave of the gravity of the situation, Gibbs' heart went into a flurry of rapid pumping. He uncharacteristically began wringing his hands to quell the panic attack. If he had been a minutes later getting to Tony… He didn't even want to think about that.

"Boss?"McGee's voice broke the penetrating silence.

Gibbs turned on a dime, wiping the frightened look from his face. "Yeah, McGee?"

"Uh, are you alright there, boss?"

"The bow, McGee?"

"Yes, boss. The bow was about fifty-five or sixty pounds of draw."

"Do we have a make and model?"

"Uh, boss, longbows don't have makes and models to begin with and you can't tell from a shot arrow. We can't even tell you how long the bow was or how the tall the shooter was." McGee reported apologetically. Ziva appeared behind him.

Gibbs groaned in anguish. "Ultimate murder weapon!" He threw his hands into the air, completely unsure of what to do.

"Well, actually a fifty-five pound draw is pretty heavy, we can eliminate a lot of local archers because of that number. More when we can eliminate who didn't have access to this arrow."

"So you're telling me that we have to wait until God knows when for Rutherford to haul her ass back here and tell us who she gave those arrows to?" Gibbs' voice was raised higher than necessary.

"Well, not entirely, we could go back to the archery centre and ask about who shoots this weight." McGee offered trying desperately to keep his boss' anger at bay.

"It's closed. David, first thing tomorrow morning get Salma Rodgers on the phone. Don't get back to me without news. McGee… go do something!" Gibbs' face was turning purple in anger.

"Yes, boss." McGee followed Ziva out to go help Abby.

Gibbs buried his face in his hands and groaned.

******************************************************************************************

"Abby?" McGee called when he entered the lab.

"McGee?" Came Abby's voice from behind a replica of Major Mass Spec.

"Gibbs wanted me to do something useful. You need help?"

"No, but you can stick around here if you really have nothing to do."

"Thanks." His shoes squeaked on the waxed linoleum floor as he walked around Major Mass Spec's cousin to find Abby knocking her knuckles together before a computer screen waiting for a positive fingerprint match.

"I only found two usable prints: one index finger and a bad partial of a thumb. They were embedded in the blood and are probably those of the Captain. Tony's arrow had nothing. We have, like nothing to go on but a patch of t-shirt, McGee." Abby turned and hugged him in frustration.

"We also know who made the arrow and low heavy the bow was that shot it." McGee tried to reassure her.

"Still. Tony's down for the count and Ziva's a wreck. Gibbs isn't looking good either."

The machine beeped and both heads turned to see the result.

"Rats! They are the Captain's. We have nothing, McGee, nothing!"

"Don't worr-" he was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. He answered with a simple "McGee." He listened, Abby could hear Gibbs' voice coming from the other end. "Yeah, I'm with her… yeah, the only prints she could find both belonged to the Captain." He listened and hung up. "Gibbs told us to go get some rest. He wants us ready for tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"I guess we're talking to Lydsay Rutherford. Well, we are, you probably have to stay here." He hugged her. "I'm going to find Ziva. Go down to the car and I'll meet you there in a moment."

She nodded and watched McGee's back as he disappeared around the replica of Major Mass Spec.