Part 5
Ensign O'Brien had been studying the map of the mall when the crowd came toward him, shoppers with enough anger to wage a war.
"Why, I've never been treated so rudely! I've patronized that fur shop since the mall opened!"
"Frank, we might as well go. There's a sports shop in the other mall; we can get your father golf clubs there."
"I have the ears of several Congressmen, and they shall be hearing from me!"
"Why is this wing closed, Daddy? Someone said a wild animal is loose?"
"No, son; just a couple of jackasses."
His curiosity had the better of him, and he inched along the sidelines, going against the flow, wanting to help if he could.
NCIS! This must be a crime scene!
They spotted him immediately. A military uniform tended to make one stand out. "Hey! Ensign! Hold it right there!" And suddenly guns were pointed at him. He raised his arms in surrender, wondering how it was that things kept going wrong for him. Two agents, a man and a woman, approached him cautiously, then handcuffed him, patted him down, and brought him back to the others.
"I'm Special Agent Gibbs," said the silver-haired one, giving him an icy stare. "Who are you? You connected with that nut in there?"
"Ensign Perry P. O'Brien III, sir. I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know what you're talking about."
"There's an ensign inside the Pop Pop Christmas shop who's holding five people hostage," said one of the other agents. "I don't believe in coincidences, much. What are the odds that two underpaid ensigns are at the same upscale mall at the same time, when one of them has threatened to kill five innocent people? One of whom is a co-worker and friend of ours!"
"Sorry. Who is the ensign? Is he stationed here? I may know him."
Gibbs raised his eyebrows as he exchanged glances with the other agents. "Name's Bret Cuffey. Do you know him; know what's eating him?"
"Cuffey! Yes, I know him. He's tightly wound. The smallest thing sets him off. A week ago some of us…the boot ensigns, the new guys and girls…learned that we couldn't take leave for Christmas, as had been previously scheduled. Something to do with 'unforeseen personnel needs'. We all took it hard, but Cuffey took it the worst. He was going to propose to his girl back home over Christmas; he'd planned it for the last six months…"
"McGee. Find out who the girlfriend is; get her on the phone."
"On it."
"Gibbs, I have done hostage situations before; I can—" said the woman agent.
"Not when it's been Abby's life at stake," Gibbs cut her off. "Di Nozzo—"
"Got the floor plans of the shop, boss. Front entrance in clear view; there's a back exit used by the shop keeper as his own entrance, for deliveries, etc."
"Does the back exit go to the outside?"
"Not directly. There's a service corridor; about 50 feet one way to an outside exit and 100 or so feet the other way to a mall exit. The mall exit's closest to us."
"Boss, the girlfriend's not home. And, uh, maybe some bad news…"
"Spit it out, McGee!"
"Uh, her mother answered, all excited, thought I was 'Stevie'."
" 'Stevie'??"
"Uh, I gathered that that's her daughter's new boyfriend."
They all winced. "Ensign Cuffey will not like to hear that," said the woman agent.
"And that will give him even less to live for," Gibbs sighed. "So having Cuffey talk to her is out."
An idea hit O'Brien. "Let me try, sir. Cuffey knows me. I think he'll listen to me."
"You can't go in there, O'Brien. That would just give him another hostage."
"No, I meant I could talk to him on the phone."
"He shot up the store phone a little while ago."
"But I have his cell phone number. As I said, I know him. We're stationed together."
- - - - -
"Cuffey! It's O'Brien. How ya doin', man?"
Gibbs' team leaned close to hear. "I'm plenty mad, man. That's how I am."
"Yeah, some of the guys said you made some threats. Said you were going to hurt people."
"That's the size of it, yeah."
"Cuffey, it's Christmas! Why would you want to hurt someone anytime, but particularly at Christmas? Tell me why."
" 'Cause they won't give us the leave at Christmas, man. You know that; and you're mad, too. You said so just yesterday!"
"Mad, yes. But I don't want to hurt anyone over it! Cuffey, is this how you want to remember Christmas next year? A time when you hurt so many people?"
"Won't be a next year for me, Perry-boy. I'm taking myself out."
"Then is this how you want your family to remember you? And your girl, too? Is this the Christmas memory that you want to haunt your parents all the way to their graves?...Cuffey, I'm outside the shop you're in now. I know you've got hostages in there. Let them go, Cuffey. They never did anything to you. Let them go, and you and I can talk some more." He could see that they'd been joined by more federal agents, these from the department of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. Those agents, and Gibbs team (except for Gibbs) split off and headed for the corridor behind the shop. "Cuffey?"
In the shop, Abby, listening, held her breath. This might, just might, turn around after all. In joy she felt the note in her pocket; started to take it out, then thought better of it and merely wadded it. She'd shred it later, back at NCIS.
"Yeah, I'm here…I gotta admit, you make sense, O'Brien. I don't really want to die. Or to kill anyone."
"That's really good to hear," he could hear one of the NCIS agents say. "Put the gun, down, now, and kick it over to me." And as quickly as that, it was over.
As the two nearly hysterical teenagers were delivered to their waiting, frantic parents; and ditto for the older man and Mr. Pop Pop and their wives; Abby sprang forward when the door opened and leaped into Gibbs' arms, crying and saying his name over and over. Maybe that was why he'd held back; so he'd be in position when she was freed. It didn't matter.
Tim, in crime-scene gloves, was bagging evidence in the shop along with Ziva, while Tony and one of the ATF agents took photos. A piece of wadded-up paper caught his eye, and he picked it up. Red and green ink, and Abby's writing…and it was addressed to him! She must have dropped it. He turned his back to the others and read it quickly.
Dearest Timmy,
If you're reading this, it's because I didn't make it to Christmas. But you know that. I'm in a bad situation at the moment, and it doesn't look like there's any way out.
And I thought of all the things I didn't follow through on, and all the things I never got around to doing. I think the thing I most regret was not trying a relationship again with you. I know you wanted it, but I wasn't ready at the time. I was scared; too scared to be tied down, I guess. And I see now I was wrong to be scared. There are a lot of things that scare me, but accepting someone's freely, unselfishly given love should not be one of them. I wish I could do it all over again, Timmy. I would handle it differently.
I love you, Timmy.
Abby
He closed the paper gently in his hand, and put it into his wallet, where it would be safe. Would her feelings follow through, now that she was safe? Or would she pretend that the paper didn't exist? He certainly wasn't going to bring the subject up. Waiting seemed like the best option.
Part 6
Ensign O'Brien walked back to base; a note from Gibbs in his hand to the CO, confirmed by a phone call, should keep him out of trouble. His shopping wasn't quite done yet; in fact, he'd only gotten gifts for his niece and nephew, but he had new plans. Christmas wasn't really about gifts or even face-to-face encounters. He saw now that it was about goodwill and helping others and a lot of other nice intangibles. Cuffey would do prison time, of course, but he'd probably shape up while in there. O'Brien felt as joyous as everyone else when the five hostages, all strangers to him, were released.
Here I'd been moaning about not being home for a particular day. So what? There's still the phone and email; and I can probably go see them in the spring. Spring is always gorgeous in Mississippi. I can last until then.
He passed the same Salvation Army kettle, with the same thing-faced man ringing his Salvation Army bell. With a big smile, O'Brien stuffed into the kettle's hole his remaining $298.72. "Merry Christmas," he said, shaking the now pop-eyed man's hand. "Merry Christmas. You people do such good work. Keep it up!"
His family wouldn't mind not getting gifts when he explained, he knew. They'd been saying something like this for years, but he'd never believed it. Now he did. And their preacher , the funny old preacher, said the same thing. What a wise old fellow that preacher was.
And that man Gibbs! What did he say…?
"You a college grad, O'Brien?"
"Oh, yes sir! From Ole Miss, sir. The greatest university there is!"
"Good," Gibbs had said, smiling. "When your term is up with the Navy, consider coming to NCIS. We could use a good man like you."
A career as a federal agent! That might be something! Something to think about…
Part 7
"Let me see if I understand you, Abby," Jenny said a short time later, in her office. "You want tomorrow off. But you want to spend it here. Decorating your lab."
"Yes, that's right," Abby said, trying to tamp down her enthusiasm. Maybe it was better that the Director didn't see her decorations.
"Well, I can't approve or disapprove leave based on why you want it. That's really none of my business. If you have the leave, and it won't hurt the agency to let you have the time off, I have to let you have it. I just think that after your ordeal today, you'd want time off to, well, catch your breath."
"Yes! But this is how I want to do it."
"Very well. But I'm giving you admin leave; you needn't use your annual leave for this. You do have to stick around for a counselor to debrief you, though. Mr. Hilch will be here around 5."
"That's fine. Thank you, Director!" Abby ran out, all smiles.
- - - - -
Tim found Abby in her lab a little while later, spraying fake snow on the brick archways over the plastic strings of "icicles" she'd hung up. "Wow!" he said, not sure if he was appalled or delighted by this homage to all things Christmas. Things glittered, blinked, chirped, and sang. "Does Santa Claus know that you've copied his workshop?"
"No, and I didn't want to call him. He never comes to the phone at this time of year. I wonder why? What's up, Tim?"
Tim, not Timmy. Ah, there's my answer. Well, things can always change. "Tony just said you had quite a set-up here; said I should see it."
"Do you like it?" she beamed.
"Of course I do," he said, without thinking. Usually he thought before he spoke, but he was feeling a little reckless. "Taken as a whole, it's a little…daunting. But in the sense of taking a museum as a whole is daunting," he said quickly. "If you look at the individual groups here, like, uh, the Santas or the reindeer, it's funny and wonderful. Great job, Abby!"
"Thanks, Tim," she murmured and hugged him tightly, not letting him go. He smiled over her shoulder.
"But I have to ask, Abby…why? It's magnificent. But why do you go to all this trouble? So few people ever come down here. You should take a job designing store windows for Macy's," he joked.
She grew serious, and pulled back a little to see his face. Her green eyes were large. "I love Christmas, Tim; you know that. Christmas is special; wonderful and magical. And…and…a couple of years ago, I started decorating the lab because…"
He lifted her chin gently with two fingers, smiling, bidding her to go on. She swallowed, not sure how he'd react to what she had to say.
"…because I thought if I honored Christmas all the more, it would somehow magically protect you guys when you're out in the field. I say a prayer every time you have to leave here. And I thought this was increasing that prayer a hundred fold."
"You did this all…for us? For Tony and Ziva and Gibbs and me?"
She nodded, blushing. "Yes. Because I love you all. Because I…love…you…"
And she couldn't finish the thought, because Timmy, her Timmy, was kissing her so much she was sure Santa had brought him down the chimney and put him under her tree. Nothing wrong with an early Christmas present! she thought, kissing him back.
- END -
