The call to MTAC had them through the door in moments, Ziva still in her coat and scarf. The scene in the rangers station was hectic as men rushed to care for a soaked and chilled member of the rescue squad. Martin Taylor stood in front of the screen, a somber expression on his face. Vance was the first to speak.
"Ranger Taylor, you said you had news."
"Yes, I do." His face and his tone told them the news wasn't good. "One of my guys managed to take a snow-cat part way up the mountain and wait there for a break in the weather. There was enough of a window that he was able to make it to your abandoned base camp."
Gibbs cringed at the word abandoned, but forced himself to listen.
"Did you find any sign of our missing man?"
Peter King chose that moment to join the conversation, wrapped in a warm blanket, his face red and windburned. "I'm sorry, Director Vance. The wind tore the camp up pretty good. I searched as long as I could, but the only sign of Agent McGee I could find was this." He pointed to the battered piece of cloth Taylor picked up from the desk top. "Was that Agent McGee's?"
DiNozzo's voice broke as he answered. "That's Probie's... McGee's shirt." Vance looked to Gibbs who also nodded as he stared at the screen, remembering the young man warmly dressed with the deep blue corduroy shirt over a flannel one. Tony's continued words forced Gibbs to return his attention to the conversation. "But it doesn't make any sense. Why would McGee take off his shirt?"
From his position in the back of the room, Ducky moved closer, dreading what he had to tell them, but wanting them to hear it from him and not from strangers. "I'm afraid that in the later stages of hypothermia, the patient feels excessive warmth. The shedding of clothes is one of the final symptoms."
"Final symptoms?"
"I'm afraid so, Tony."
"Oh, Probie, I'm sorry." Tony turned away from the screen and watched Abby as she leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, covering her face.
Gibbs couldn't turn away, staring at Taylor and King, looking for the slightest flicker of hope. "Are you going back out there?"
Taylor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Gibbs, at this point it's a recovery, not a rescue." King stood and joined him, a sorrowful look on his face.
"It's one of the worst storms I've ever experienced up there, Agent Gibbs. Every landmark is now buried in snow. You remember the deep ravine I pointed out to you that first day?"
Gibbs did remember the jagged crevice, the deepest of almost a dozen to the east of their surveillance camp. It had been almost eight feet wide and at least twice that deep. He nodded, waiting for King to continue.
"Right now, they're totally filled with snow. If he lost his bearing and..."
King didn't need to finish, Gibbs could visualize McGee, cold and disorientated, stumbling through the trees and falling through the loose snow, quickly trapped and covered. "We won't find his body until the snow melts this spring."
"I am sorry for your loss, but I'm afraid you're right." Taylor knew how useless his words were, but there was really nothing else he could say.
-NCIS-
Fifty feet of 550 Paracord sounded like a lot when McGee first studied survival techniques, but now he wished he had more as he cut into the thin cord to finish making his snares and his snowshoes. He'd feel a lot more confident going out with a safety line that he could follow back to the cave. Instead, he fixated on a large tree near the entrance of the cave, planning on keeping it in his line of sight as he laid out his snares. He'd managed to construct seven snares and now carefully placed them on the edge of some large bushes, hoping that the rabbits would be looking for bits of vegetation.
On the off-chance that he'd run into something bigger, McGee had his SIG tucked tight against his body. A deer would keep him fed for quite some time, but the energy he'd use up chasing it down and hauling it back would make it risky, indeed. Add in the possibility of predators attracted by the catch, and he quickly decided that unless a deer came up to him, it wasn't worth the risk.
By the time he had the last snare placed, it was early evening. His hands and feet were becoming numb and he turned back towards his landmark, only to find it hidden by the blowing snow. Tim fought down his rising panic as he blinked and squinted, trying to see through the dimming light and increasing snow. Finally, he started backtracking along the trail of snares, hoping that the first snare would be close enough to the big tree to be able to clearly see it. Counting backwards, he had just reached snare number three when a loud crack echoed around him and he saw a newly fallen pine tree, half buried in the snow. He hadn't paid attention to the various species of trees, it was too much effort to see the bark patterns and needles in the snow, but now that this tree was grounded, he staggered in relief. An Eastern White Pine, with its edible inner bark. Despite the numbness in his hands, he managed to wield his survival knife enough to peel off one section for his dinner.
Feeling a calmness he hadn't felt since his nightmare had begun, Tim stood facing what he believed was the direction of his landmark tree. As he waited, the snow thinned and his tree became visible. A straight path was possible, but he had no idea what was under the snow, so he followed the path he'd made earlier. Once back in the cave Tim was grateful that he'd already started his firebed for the night and could concentrate on cooking some of the bark. He was tempted to start chewing on the bark right there and then, but uncooked bark was too fibrous to eat. Instead, he held strips over the flames, letting them sear until the edges were bubbly and charred. He'd known how nutritious the bark would be, but he hadn't realized how comforting it would be to eat something warm.
-NCIS-
Over the next five days, McGee fell into a basic routine as the storms continued to rage. The snares continued to be empty, as even the small critters hid from the violent winds. Luckily, he had the fallen tree to rely on and every day he peeled off and brought back as much of the sweet bark as he could carry, knowing the longer it remained on the downed tree, the more difficult it would be to remove. His simple and basic first fire pit was replaced with a more efficient one dug deeper into the ground with a second hole next to it that angled into the deep pit, creating a chimney and allowing for a hotter fire that used less wood. After an afternoon spent reinforcing the windbreak that served as the door to the cave, the new fire kept his cave warm enough to not need the wood consuming firebed every night.
His supply of water purification tablets was running low, so Tim began to construct a cooking bowl. The article he'd read hadn't convinced him it would work, but with nothing else to lose, he used his survival saw to cut a large chunk of a downed tree before burning out the center half way down. After using a smaller knife to scrape out the charred wood and rub it smooth, he was able to boil water in the makeshift bowl by dropping hot rocks in it.
On the sixth day, the skies cleared and Tim joyfully pulled on his sunglasses and gloves before zipping up his coat and heading down the mountain to their original camp. Gibbs and Tony would be surprised at how well he fended for himself, and he couldn't wait to see the look of their faces when they arrived.
Tim slowed down as he arrived at the site, seeing the damage. The winds had piled the snow into large drifts to the East, that he'd expected, but he hadn't expected the carefully protected electronics to have been so tossed around without disturbing the piles of rocks and logs that had surrounded them. Other things didn't add up either, like the missing shirt he'd left as a signal, gone without a bit of damage to the branch it had been tied to, not even a snagged thread in the rough bark. A corner of his mind was screaming at him that this was not the work of the elements, but he silenced the traitorous thoughts and got to work starting a signal fire.
Once the small fire was putting out a steady stream of smoke from the greenery he was burning, Tim settled in to wait for his ride.
