Jethro watched as she closed her lips around the fork and pulled the piece of steak off the fork slowly, her teeth scraping the fork slightly. How could someone make eating that isexy/i? She knew he was watching and she ran her tongue over her bottom lip licking away the peppered sauce that lay there. The salty mixture ran over her tongue and it took everything in him not to push the table out from between them and pull her to him and kiss her deeply; his own tongue begging to taste the rich peppercorny sauce, and to taste her. God, how he wanted to taste her.
"Jethro?" Jen said noticing his eyes had glazed over.
"Er…yeah?" he said his eyes coming back into focus.
She laughed and he saw her eyes flicker over to the table where Fresco was sitting. They both had earwigs in listening in on what was being said and Fresco had just mentioned the briefcase.
i"Yeah, I have the briefcase, its right down here. Here let me show you…/i
Jethro was watching Jen at this moment, searching her face for indications of what was happening behind him. Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye.
"Jen, duck!" he said reaching forwards and grabbing her wrist. He leaned out of his chair and pulled her towards him so she fell from her own. They collapsed on the floor, his arms around her as she heard the zing cut through the air above them.
"What the hell?" she said craning her neck round to see the shooter. A man was stood up at one of the tables that had been behind her, pointing a gun across the room. She twisted around to see a man slouching in his chair across from him, a red stain seeping through the front of his crisp white shirt. The man to the left of him reached over and grabbed something from the belt of the man's body, standing up to reveal a Glock in his steady hand.
Jethro reached to his own belt but Jen placed a hand over his.
"We're still undercover remember," she said her voice calm but noticeably rattled after the shot. He looked from shooter to victim and he linked it up in his mind. His stomach jolted at the thought of what would have happened if he hadn't caught sight of the shooter moments before he released the bullet and pulled her to safety. It would have been a direct hit.
"Not if it means people die, Jen," he said, his hand still at his waistband.
Another shot was fired overhead and they heard a crash from somewhere in the restaurant. Crouched nearer to the floor, Jethro held an arm over her head, holding her to him. Was there someone else joining in the shootout?
He felt Jen's head turn and look towards the table they were meant to be observing and he knew what was going to happen before she said it.
"Jethro, they're moving…" he heard her say from somewhere in amongst all the cries and shouts now flying around the restaurant. She moved away from him and he grabbed her wrist harshly.
"Jen, no. It's to dangerous, let them go."
"I can't!" she said twisting out of his grip as he tried to hold on to her.
Another zing rang out above the din from the room and he was distracted for the tiniest fraction but when he turned back he saw her at least a few tables down, making her way towards Fresco. Damn it woman, did she ever listen?
He turned back to the shootout trying to ignore the horrible wrenching of his gut telling him to run after her. He had to do something to stop this. If he couldn't innocent people were going to die.
Jen made her way towards the table watching as she saw Fresco dart from his seat. She sped up, oblivious to the people surrounding her, rushing to take cover from the hail of bullets above them. She was thrown sideways with shock as something hit the huge ornate mirror close to Fresco's table and it came crashing down to the floor, shattering in front of her eyes. She was almost at the table and her eyes raced around the room. Where was he? She couldn't have lost him already?
Jethro looked around the room surveying the damage. From what he could see there were three shooters, maybe four. The first shooter was down, a nicely aimed bullet from the second shooter's sig lodged neatly into the front of his skull. That left a possible three for him to deal with, two at the least.
He drew his gun and aimed it across the room, rising from his cover slightly to improve his aim. He squeezed off three rounds, two of them hitting one of the remaining shooter's chest and the other burying itself into the mans right arm. He watched as the man fell to the floor, the gun dropping with an unheard clatter next to him.
Jen's eyes searched the room frantically. She couldn't have lost him; they had been so close to completing this mission. What the hell had happened to make it go so wrong! She reached up and grabbed the side of a nearby table and pulled herself up to half height. She let out a breath as she finally saw him slip empty-handed through a door marked 'Staff-only'. Empty handed. Where was the briefcase?
Jethro searched for the next shooter seeing him taking cover behind a pillar near the fire exit at the end of the room. He aimed the gun and this time wasn't so lucky as the bullet grazed the pillar and rebounded into the wall behind it. The shooter, knowing he had been seen, hid completely behind the pillar now, and Jethro lost his shot. He twisted his head and decided that there had indeed only been three shooters and he must have been mistaken, there was no one else holding a gun in the restaurant.
"NCIS, Freeze!" he shouted, gun still trained at the damaged pillar. "Come out with you hands up and throw your weapon to the ground."
Silence echoed and Jethro made his way slowly towards the pillar. "Show yourself!" he shouted.
It all happened in a flash as he saw man jump out from behind the pillar and twist the gun in his direction. He pumped his finger on the trigger and watched as the shooter collapsed, blood spattering on the wall behind him, but not before he made a few shots of his own.
Jen spotted the briefcase, still there beside the chair and she grabbed it in her left hand as she, still half-crouching, ran after Fresco. She made it to the door and crashed through it, gun drawn. She had entered the kitchen and was met with the wide eyes of a number of frightened staff, most of them foreign. Many of them wouldn't have working permits she told herself, walking past them, everyone of them trying to get as far away from her as possible. She clutched the briefcase tighter in her hand as she made it to the opposite end of the room filled with cookers and fryers. She stepped through the door that was still swinging from the previous user and burst out onto an alleyway behind the restaurant. She turned wildly to hear the screeching of tires and she yelled as she watched the car speed away from her. She managed to land a couple of bullets in the rear bumper and shatter the back window but nothing that kept them from fleeing. She swore loudly as she yanked her head back and looked up at the sky. She had let them get away.
He felt the sting before he knew what had happened and felt his hand automatically jerk to his shoulder. He looked down at the red stain and ripped off the shoulder of his shirt, trying to see how much damage had been caused. It was only a scratch, but it significant enough to cause him discomfort. Gritting his teeth he pulled the shirt back over the wound and froze at the sound of laughter behind him. He swang round and swayed a little as pain struck him in the shoulder from where he had automatically raised his gun and taken aim at the man laughing.
"You're too late," he said, waving a gun through the air.
"For what," he said, his stomach freefalling as his mind raced to Jen.
"Its already happened," he said hand with the gun in still flailing dangerously.
"What has happened? And drop your weapon," he said, his aim steady as the man's expression changed. The smile wiped from his face and instead his eyes turned dark and hard.
"Now see, that's just not nice." The man raised his arm, the barrel of the gun turning quickly to face Jethro. Jethro let off two rounds that hit the man squarely in the forehead. He fell backwards, the same expression etched into his face, a look of malice and anger, with not a hint of surprise. It was almost as if he had known that the whole of this was futile, that he was going to die. Even with suspects that know there is no way out, some amount of shock registered as the bullet hit, but this guy was different. He hadn't been afraid to die.
Shaking himself from thoughts of such a cold human being, he frantically searched the room from Jen and he felt his mouth go dry. He couldn't see her anywhere. What had the man meant by 'you're too late'? Too late for what?
Jen kicked her foot angrily against the metal skip against the wall in the alleyway. She rested her head on the rim of it before closing her eyes in disgust. They had been so close, and yet they had still got away. He had been about to give the briefcase…the briefcase! It was still clutched in her hand and she lifted it up eagerly on top of the skip, balancing it on top of an overturned wooden table. Adrenaline began to pump around her body again as she realized that not all might be lost. Her fingers shook slightly as they played with the locks. Please, luck be on her side. She gave a yelp of excitement as the locks clicked open with a flick of her thumbs and her eyes buzzed with anticipation as she lifted the black leather lid.
What the hell? The dark leather briefcase was filled with mounds of shredded newspaper. She brushed her hands through it angrily, looking for anything that might be hidden underneath. Had they been set-up?
She was too busy to notice the man standing behind her but she noticed the cloth that he forced against her nose and mouth. She screamed into the mucky material as the strong scent of chloroform invaded her throat. She began to choke as she struggled in his grip, her hands clawing at the man's grip on her face. She felt herself blacking out as the strong urge to vomit overtook her body. The world was sliding from view and she felt herself slumping; the energy draining from her fingers as she made less and less of an effort to free herself. Her last thought was of Jethro, standing in the middle of the restaurant, his eyes looking for her but not seeing. She begged to herself that the look he had given her as she had left him only a few minutes ago would not be the last look she saw from him. She longed for him to hold her in his arms again, just once; to tell him she loved him. She couldn't leave him like this, not like this. She needed to say…
She slumped against her captor and he laughed as he lifted her limp body into his arms.
"Surprise."