A/N Thanks everyone for the reviews and kind words of encouragement! Just to let you know this story is actually complete but I'm editing as I go along. I know a lot of stories get started and never finished and I just want to assure you this isn't one of them! Thanks again!
CHAPTER FOUR
The end didn't come; instead the nightmare just got worse. Frank appeared over the top of the ravine looming over McGee like an armed grizzly bear. Rifle held at the ready, blood trickled down the side of Frank's face from where McGee had struck him, but much to McGee's surprise, Frank didn't look so much angry as he did self-satisfied. It was as if he'd been waiting for McGee to make a move and felt gratified to discover that he'd been right. Without a word, he slid down into the ravine, grabbed McGee, yanked him to him his feet. McGee cried out in pain and started to collapse. Morris swore in disgust then threw McGee roughly over his shoulder and carried him back to the cabin, down the stairs into the cellar where he dumped McGee back on the mattress which quickly became soaked with McGee's blood.
Frank stood looking at his semiconscious captive in irritation but with a touch of respect. His own head was throbbing and he had to admit, he'd gotten complacent. He'd expected something like this early on but when Gemcity never made a move, Frank decided he'd been right about the man's cowardly demeanor. Turned out the guy had a bit of a backbone after all. He reached down and refastened the shackle around his captive's ankle. He then walked to the far wall and gently pushed shut the secret door to the emergency escape tunnel he had dug when he'd renovated this basement. Came in handy after all, he thought smugly.
Now he turned his attention to Thom's wound. He'd hit him in the lower leg and although the bullet had gone all the way through, it had obviously shattered the bone as it passed. Bits of bone could be seen protruding through the exit wound. Again Frank sighed in irritation. The story would never get finished at this rate. Although he normally worked as a computer programmer in Charlottesville, next week he was supposed to start a special assignment in Richmond which would much too far to commute. He was running out of time; he'd need to spur Gemcity on. He licked his lips and smiled. Things could certainly get more interesting.
When McGee finally regained consciousness, the throbbing in his leg was his first indication that he was still alive. He was desperately thirsty and his tongue felt swollen in his parched mouth. He opened his eyes and with a start saw that Frank was sitting just a few feet away watching him as intently as cat does his prey. McGee said nothing, waiting for his captor to make the first move. Frank smiled gently, a chilling sight. "You've been very bad, Thom," he said softly, his eyes never leaving McGee's. "You hurt me. You ran away. Why would you do that, Thom? I've given you everything you asked for. All I want is a story."
Still McGee remained mute. Shaking his head sadly as if genuinely sorry about what he about to do, Frank abruptly lashed out striking McGee savagely on his injured leg. He smiled contentedly as McGee screamed and writhed in agony. "Perhaps now you will spend more time working on my story and less on stupid escape attempts." Frank grabbed McGee by the front of his shirt and pulled him close. "Do I make myself clear, Thom?" he demanded coldly.
Unable to speak through the pain, Tim simply nodded. Frank smiled again. Now he looked down at Tim's leg. He had bandaged it to stop the bleeding but he was no doctor and had no way much less the inclination to try and set the broken bone. Well, if it killed McGee in the end, so be it. As long as the story was completed. He stood, returning a few moments later with the typewriter and paper placing them near McGee. He then turned and silently left the room.
Tim sobbed as waves of pain swept over him. It seemed as if they would never subside. He alternated between feeling hot and freezing cold, his body shaking uncontrollably. He'd lost a lot of blood if the stain on his mattress was any indication. Finally, the pain eased enough for him to look around and with a cry of relief he saw Frank had at least left him a glass of water. Again, he gulped it down relishing the sensation of the cool liquid flowing across his parched membranes. It wasn't nearly enough but it was a massive relief just the same.
He stared in anguish at the typewriter before him. The thought of continuing the story made him ill but what was he supposed to do? As long as he appeared to be writing, Frank would keep him alive. He felt hopelessness descend over him like a heavy curtain. Even if he finished it, he was dead. He was tempted to just give up. His leg would probably kill him in the end anyway. He knew it was broken and gangrene was a very real possibility. He smiled grimly. It was the least he could hope for anyway. For the time being, all he wanted to do was sleep. He'd let tomorrow take care of itself.
Tony tried to read the file before him. He really did. He'd been looking at it for the good part of an hour but if anyone had asked him what it was in it, he wasn't sure he could answer. It was now over a month since McGee had disappeared and they all knew he must be dead, after all, conventional wisdom said if you didn't get a kidnap victim back within 24 -48 hours chances are you never would. There had never been any ransom note or letter from some deranged killer gloating over his latest victory. There had been nothing and that was what had been so hard about this case. There was always something they could go on but this time…not a thing. Tony was actually surprised at how hard Tim's disappearance had hit him. Sure, he liked McGeek and had always been impressed by the guy's techie abilities but he found he genuinely missed him as a friend. Every day he came in hoping to find Probie at his desk pounding away at his keyboard but so far, it hadn't happened. They had discussed attempting to bring in another computer geek to help out but the few they'd tried hadn't lasted long under Gibb's iron fist. Tony sighed sadly staring over at the empty desk across from him.
"You miss him too, do you not?" Tony looked up to see Ziva watching him solemnly.
He at first tried to come up with a witty response but failed miserably. Finally, he just nodded. "Yeah, more than I ever thought I would."
Ziva followed his gaze to the empty desk. "I also miss him. He was a genuinely nice person in a job that deals with very bad ones. I often wondered how he ended up here. I wish we could find an answer to his disappearance." She paused looking away for a moment. "Then perhaps I could sleep at night."
Tony stared at her for moment in surprise. Then gave a small, sad laugh. "Me too, Ziva. Me, too.