Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story but a few OCs. How unfortunate, right? ; )
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A/N: Just to get an idea of what the readers like, are the chapters too long, too short or just right? Can't guarantee it'll change,lol, because the characters take over, but I like to know what is preferred on average, so I can try to deliver.
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Dammit, Tim cursed to himself, his fists balled in frustration.
"Dammit!" This time it was screamed and his balled fists crashed into the rusted hood of his borrowed car. He paced furiosly back and forth in front of the car, too angry to think of his next logical step.
He'd missed them. All the signs- and the desk clerk- confirmed that they'd been here, but he'd missed them. The room was empty. They were usually pretty good about leaving behind next to nothing to point to where they'd been, except her...... she was leaving behind a very personal clue, each and every time, to confirm she'd been there. A few strands of her hair, broken deliberately from her head and in whatever corner they'd stashed her in long enough for her to do it. He knew it was hers; the first time, those first locks he'd found, had been unmistakable. Not because there was anything different about her hair from anyone else's, but because she'd wanted it to be found. She knew he'd be looking, trying to find her, trying to rescue her. That first handful of hair, and it really had been a handful because she'd wanted it to be noticed by Tim, had been wrapped and entwined with the silver necklace Tim knew so well. It had been her prized posession for years; a beautiful silver chain with a jade pendant, the back of which was inscribed with her first and middle names. There was no mistaking it; their father had given her that piece of jewelry on her sixteenth birthday,and she hadn't let it out of her posession since. Until now.
I'll find you, Sara, Tim vowed. I promise I will. Please stay safe until then.
Tim breathed deeply to calm himself, then got behind the wheel of the old car, stuffing the newest strands of hair in his pocket. He winced at his sore knuckles, the result of his latest confrontation with Mutt and Jeff. There was nothing more he could do here; the desk clerk had told him all she could and he'd searched the room thouroughly, finding nothing but the hair as usual. But it didn't matter. Tim didn't care who or what got in his way, he was going to find her, and he was going to get Sara back. His little sister. And if, God forbid, he was too late to get her back alive, he'd have his vengeance, and God save the souls of those who'd harmed her. But Tim was determined; he wasn't stopping until he got his sister back, one way or another.
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"How long ago was he here?" Gibbs pressed the lady behind the check-in desk.
"Don't know," she said. "Just got on m'shift when 'e came up and started askin' questions. 'Bout eleven last night, I guess."
"What kind of questions?"
"I don't know. He was lookin' for someone. He had some pictures, was showin' me some pictures."
That was interesting. "Did you recognized anyone in the pictures he showed you?"
"I don't know, I guess."
Gibbs clenched his teeth together in annoyance. If this woman said 'I don't know' one more time.....
"You guess. Did you or didn't you?" He had to struggle not to sound too intimidating. This wasn't a suspect or one of his team. He needed her help.
"Yeah. They was here, but they checked out just a little bit before he showed up looking for 'em. They break the law or somethin'?"
Gibbs perked up at the question. "What makes you think they broke the law?" After all, he'd been asking about Tim, not anyone else.
"I don't know. The guy yer askin' 'bout, he had a badge just like yours. Same letters, NCIS. Never heard o' that. That some kind o' special secret service type thing? Like CIA or something'?"
"No. He showed you his badge?"
"Yep. Said he was a agent, looking for some people, and he showed me pictures of 'em. An' I remembered those people, too. Cause they only got one room, but there was four of 'em. But two stayed in the car and two came in to register. I guess they thought we'd charge extra for more people, but truth is, we don't really care. We ain't the Ritz, you know, and most people just rent the rooms for a hour or two. And it ain't all truck drivers wanting showers, either, if you know what I mean." The woman laughed at her own joke, her ample bosom bouncing in her thin tshirt.
Gibbs pointedly ignored the flirtatious smirk on her lipstick-slathered lips. "And you're sure these were the people McGee- uh, the other guy- was asking about?"
"Yep. He had pictures."
"Do you remember anything else about those four people? Anything they might have said or done that seemed strange or off?"
"I don't know.....kinda, but not really. I watched 'em drive over to the room. They all four went in, but they didn't take no bags or luggage. And it was two guys and two women, one o' the girls younger than the other people. She looked kinda young. They held her when they went in- her arms, you know?- they seemed like they was holdin' onto her or somethin'."
"And you didn't think to check up on the situation or call authorities?" Gibbs asked harshly. He didn't know who these people were, but if McGee was interested in them, they had to be important.
"Hey," the woman said, suddenly defensive, "I said it seemed kinda off, but 'round here, you never know. Like I said, we ain't the Ritz, just a little no-tell motel on the side of the highway between two nothin' little towns. I seen lots worse, and most of it ain't been against no-one's will, and it ain't my business, anyhow. If you wanna know who was acting strange, it was the other man. The one with the bruised face and same badge as yours."
"How do you mean?" Gibbs felt his gut tighten.
"He was actin' all....I don't know.....his eyes were kinda wild and he had dark circles. He was kinda rude. Impatient, you know? And mad. He got mad when I told him them people checked out already, and he took the key to the room. Didn't even ask! Just reached over here an' took it off the wall, when I told him what room they was in. I was scared he was a druggie or somethin', wondered if he was gonna rob me. But he brought the key back and left a few minutes later. But he was still mad."
Gibbs didn't know what to make of all that, but he knew he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. That was totally out of character for the usually mild-mannered and polite McGee he knew. And what was all this about him looking for someone? Four someones, if the desk clerk's story was accurate. Obviouly, if what she said was true, then Tim was on someone's trail- two men and two women, one maybe a girl- and he'd tracked them to this roach trap of a motel and become angry when he'd missed them. Hmm. Gibbs' mind went into overdrive with the possibilities. A kidnapped teen, perhaps? Plausible, but that didn't explain why Tim hadn't alerted authorities if he suspected a kidnapping.
"What name did they register under?"
The lady reched for a clipboard with several sheets of paper attached to it- no computer records for this place- and slid it in front of him. She pointed to the last name on the sign in sheet.
J. Smith. Figured. "They paid in cash, I suppose?"
"Yep."
"Do you have surveillance anywhere around the property?"
"I don't know. You mean like cameras and stuff? Yeah, we got one right there-" Gibb's followed her pointed finger to see an old model video camera tucked up high in a corner. It was aimed at the desk and register. "- and we're s'posed to have one outside where the cars pull up, but I don't know if it works."
Hopefully they both work, Gibbs thought, turning his attention back to the woman. "Do you remember anything from the pictures he showed you?"
"Well, I remember the girl was kinda pretty, but I only saw her picture, she was the one that stayed in the car with one o' the men. And her picture was different than the pictures of the others' when the guy showed me. The others' pictures were hard to see, like they were took far away and with a bad camera. And they were on paper, like they was printed on a computer or somethin'. It was kinda hard to even make out their faces. But the girl's picture was like a portrait or school picture or somethin', but wallet size. Real clear, professional. Pretty girl. But the man and woman that came in, I could describe 'em, but they'll probably be easy to see on that camera," she explained, pointing to the one in the upper corner.
Gibbs nodded, filing that information away for later. "Show me where the tapes are recorded from those cameres," Gibbs ordered the woman. Screw trying to be polite. Tim was in some kind of trouble,his gut told him so, and he had to find out what.
"Back this way," the woman gestured to a door-less office behind her. "I don't think them others took the tapes, just watched 'em."
Gibbs stopped in his tracks and turned back to face her. "Others?"
"The others. You know, the others," the woman insisted. "You're partners or whatever. Two big guys. They said they was agents, too, askin' for them same people. Real interested in the bruised one, the one you're looking for."
"What did they want to know?" This didn't sound good at all. Someone else was looking for McGee? Two people claiming to be agents? The urgency Gibbs felt to find McGee tripled. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Same things as you. Was he here, how long ago, which way he headed. They was here 'bout a half hour before you pulled up."
"And you gave them this information?" Gibbs asked coldly, but his attitude was lost on the woman.
"Yep," she answered proudly. "I'll help you official types any way I can."
Gibbs had to hold back a snide reply; this woman had no idea what she might have done, she was an innocent in all this. A fool, but innocent.
"I'll need to see those tapes now," Gibbs insisted. He'd scan the tapes for those 'agents', too. Gibbs wondered for a moment if he should continue this on his own. It was getting complicated, and there was clearly more to it than even he had imagined. He pushed the thought away angrily. He wanted to hear what Tim had to say about it all first, and to do that, he had to find him. Gibbs just hoped he didn't regret that decision later.
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Tim snapped awake at the blaring of a horn to see a pickup truck bearing down on him head on. He instinctively jerked the wheel, whipping his car back into the correct lane, then over the line, and he stomped on the brake. Gravel spewed as the car skidded on the soft shoulder, finally coming to a stop after sliding for several seconds. Tim coughed, choking on the cloud of dust that assailed his lungs and sinuses through the half-open window on his side of the car.
His heart racing, his hands shaking, Tim opened the door and stepped out, eyes following the tailgate of the pickup. Didn't look like they were going to stop or turn around; good. Tim had already made himself conspicuous and known to far too many people in the past five days; the less people to see him, the better.
Not only did he have to avoid Mutt and Jeff, but Gibbs and the team knew very well how to track someone by eye-witness reports, and if they caught up to him, he'd stand no chance of finding Sara. Mutt and Jeff he could fight, decieve and evade, but Tim knew that if Gibbs got his hands on him, he'd never be given the chance to slip his custody; and what's more, Tim would almost be afraid to try. That didn't mean he wouldn't, under the current circumstances, but he didn't like thinking of the possible consequences. Such things didn't matter at the moment, but he didn't know how all this was going to end, and one way or another he was probably going to have to face Gibbs again someday, and that wasn't something he wanted marked against him on Gibbs' list of 'reasons to kick McGees ass'.
He'd already evaded his boss far longer than he'd ever have thought possible, and much of it was due to the fact that Tim was resorting to acts that he- and Gibbs- had never thought possible of him. Once Gibbs began to think like the new Tim instead of the old one, it would be game over, unless Tim could stay far enough ahead of him.
Tim wondered if Gibbs was actually still his boss. If anything was worth termination of an agent, Tim had probably already done it. But he didn't think NCIS had a whole force out looking for him, or any other branch of law enforcement, because he'd been scanning the radio news as he drove and had heard nothing. They could be keeping it from the media, but that seemed unlikely. And Tim knew Gibbs well enough to understand that even as loyal as the man was to his country and NCIS, the former Marine was often just this side of going rogue if it meant protecting the friends he thought of as family; namely, his team. Tim had seen it before. Gibbs would put himself out there on the line, often against orders and occassionaly even slightly illegaly, to stand up for or protect one or more of them.
Tim couldn't let him do that this time. It's not that he hadn't wanted to alert authorites; Tim would have been the happiest man alive if there were hordes of officials out there looking for his sister, because it felt like such a daunting mission for just one man, and he despaired of her being found alive. His first instinct had been to confide in the team, hand it over to Gibbs to take care of in that way he handled everything. He'd love to be accepting Abby's comforting hugs and Ziva's polite but meaningful assurances. He craved Tony's off- the- wall movie analogies and childish behavior as a distraction from his fears. He'd even happily put up with Ducky's amateur pshyco-analysis of Tim's grief and worry.
But there had been the note. The note and the pictures. He'd had a choice that wasn't really a choice.
Choice one. Come alone to where they were holding Sarah and she'd be freed. He hadn't believed that for an instant, but thought it might give him a chance to bargain for her life, because it had been the only real decision he could make.
Because choice two stated that he could alert police or his team, but Sara would be killed immediately, and each member of his team would suffer the same fate. The threat against Sarah would probably have been sufficient to gain his compliance, but apparently they'd wanted all their bases covered.
Under other circumstances, Tim would have laughed at the assumption that the everyday joe or two-bit criminal thought they could take out the team, just like that. Gibbs' team were the best, after all, and weren't exactly amateurs. But pictures had been included with the note, stuffed neatly into a large manilla envelope, calling Tim's bluff before he had a chance to scoff.
There was a picture of each member of the team, and not just Gibbs, Tony and Ziva. There were also pictures of Abby, Ducky, even Jimmy. And for good measure, the people Tim had worked with in the Cyber Crimes Unit as well as a few other agents around the office that Tim was friendly with.
The pictures of Tim's acquaintances were distant shots, as if they'd been spotted on the street or driving when the photos were snapped. Tim wouldn't want anyone at all to be harmed because of him, but it was obvious that the picture-takers knew where most of Tim's affections lay because the pictures of the team were much more intimate, and because of that, much more threatening.
Gibbs was in his own driveway, his arms full of lumber and most of his back to the camera. A bright red laser-dot was centered exactly where the shot would have to enter to hit his heart from behind.
Abby was at the bowling alley surrounded by nuns. One of the nuns next to Abby was waving at the camera and smiling cheerfully, though Abby, herself, seemed unaware that she was being photographed, though the camera was obviously no further away than the next lane.
Ziva's postioning in her picture indicated that she was getting into her car, though she was looking off to her left with a frown on her face. Tim recognized the expression he'd seen on her face before, and he wondered if she'd felt herself being watched. The shot had obviously been taken from the vehicle right next to hers, it was that close. The picture was clear but it was obvious that the photographer had hidden below her line of sight. The less brazen postion of Ziva's photographer compared to Abby's indicated that the Mossad liason's reputation was known, and care was taken to be invisible. Behind Ziva, Tim recognized the gym she frequented on her days off to work out.
Tony's picture was one of the two most disturbing. Tony had been photograghed as he'd lain stomach down along his couch at home. He was dressed down in sweats and a tshirt, only socks on his feet and his hair mussed, obviously enjoying some down-time on one of their days off. Tim had been in Tony's apartment often enough for Tim to recognize that the picture had been taken from inside Tony's home, from behind a slatted closet door in the hallway behind Tony. The intrusive nature was what made it so disturbing to Tim.
Ducky was snapped going into the elderly care facility Tim knew Ducky's mother now lived. Like the others, it too was a close up, obviously meant to show Tim that these people could get to his friends any time they needed to.
The other picture that disturbed Tim as much as Tony's was the one taken of Jimmy Palmer, also because of the location. Palmer was photographed right there in autopsy, through what looked like the window of Ducky's dark office. Jimmy, intent on his task of paperwork at a desk in the main room, seemed completely unaware that he was sharing the space with an intruder.
It was obvious to Tim that these people, whoever they were, had gone to great lenghts and taken some risks to insure Tim's cooporation, Sara's abduction not the least of them. And they'd done their homework; they knew where each of the team live and hung out, even how to get into their homes or into NCIS. So what choice had he? There was only one thing he could've done, and that was to do as they wanted, go where they'd told him to. It was obvious Tim was the center of whatever was going on; they wanted him for some reason and had done everything possible to find a way to control him. And it had worked.
The problem was, when he got to the location they'd sent him to, it was empty, abandoned, and it was obvious they'd left in a hurry. Tim figured that was where Mutt and Jeff's boss or bosses came in; Tim knew what it looked like when someone was fleeing a scene, and that's exactly what Sara's kidnappers had done, and they'd taken Sara with them. It was in that building where he'd found Sara's hair for the first time, wrapped around her jade necklace, proving she'd been there. And the hunt was on.
Tim shook himself from his thoughts. It did him no good to obsess over the circumstances. He just needed to concentrate of finding Sara. It hit McGee for the first time since he'd left his car with Gibbs, though, that he'd left the envelope of photos in the other car. He'd hidden them under the seat cover on the passenger side. He missed the photos, actually, frightening as they were. He'd pored over them numerous times, looking for clues in the shots, finding nothing, but it had almost been like having his friends there with him. Nothing he could do about it now, though. Gibbs had the car, therefore he had the photos. The team had no doubt by now pieced at least some of it together, which, Tim knew, would make them more determined to find him. They're going to be so pissed, Tim inner-voice warned him, but he shut it up. He knew that, but it was done, and whether he'd made the right choices remained to be seen.
Tim's head nodded forward and he slumped against the car. Reluctantly, he came to the forgone conclusion that he had no choice but to get some sleep. These were the times that frustrated Tim the most; his body's need for things like rest. He could put it off for only so long before his body decided for him, but he hated stopping for even that long, knowing Sara could very well be getting further away.
But it wouldn't help Sara in the slightest if Tim got himself killed by falling asleep at the wheel. And to be honest, it had scared the bejeezus out of him. Tim glanced at his watch; it was only noon, but it had been almost fourty-eight hours since he'd last let himself sleep.
Back in the car, Tim drove for another mile, finally turning off at the first opportunity. Turning right and following a dusty, unpaved gravel road, he soon found a suitable area to pull off. Trees lined the little road thickly, but Tim's searching eyes found a spot that the car could handle safely, leaving the road for a small clearing in the trees. Branches and limbs scraped the body of the car with loud squeals, but Tim didn't think it would make any difference to the old car, and it couldn't make it look any worse.
Though Tim was reluctant to have to sleep, he couldn't deny the need, and the moment he'd stretched out across the car's bench seat he felt his eyelids pulling themselves closed. The area he'd picked seemed perfect for sleeping. The tiny clearing was far enough off the road that it would be hard to see, and it was cool, shaded from the sun by the trees. It was almost comfortable.
I wish I had Jethro here, Tim thought as he began to drift off. He would love these woods.
Tim had almost brought Jethro with him, but had changed his mind at the last moment. There were moments, though, that Tim became lonely or depressed, wishing for company, and at those times he wished he'd brought Jethro along. Despite thier violent first meeting, Tim had come to love Jethro, but the dog would have needed the same care on the road as he did at home. Even before leaving town, Tim had suspected he wouldn't have either the time, energy or resourses to take care of Jethro the way the dog deserved once they'd hit the road. So he'd closed his ears to Jethro's whines and left him in his apartment, taping a hastily scribbled note to his neighbor's apartment door on his way out. Tim knew Jethro would be taken care of while he was gone if he enlisted the service of the woman that walked the dog every day while Tim was at work. The minute she found the note explaining that he'd 'had to leave town right away for a case at work', his neighbor Karen would Take Jethro under her wing until Tim returned.
Maybe I should get Karen to explain that to Abby later so Abby doesn't kill me for leaving Jethro alone, Tim thought, then chastised himself for thinking random thoughts when he needed to make his mind go quiet enough to sleep. And besides, thinking about Abby had doubled his loneliness, and Tim wished fervently for someone to talk to. He just needed to hear a friendly voice, words that would reassure him. He needed to hear the voice of one of his friends.
If they're still my friends, Tim's inner-voice said, but Tim quickly shut it up. That wasn't something he needed to think about, and anyway, he'd set the alarm on his pre-paid cell phone to wake him in two hours, so he needed to stop thinking. Maybe then his brain would follow his body's example and let him get a little rest.
Tim pulled Sarah's jade pendant necklace from his pocket and held it tightly, finally letting himself slip into the darkness of sleep.
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"What kind of photos, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled into his phone.
"Of us, Boss, all of us, and a few others here in the building! But they weren't taken in the building, Boss, except the autopsy gremlin's. They're freaky, scary photos, Boss.....not that I'm scared of course, because Tony DiNozzo doesn't do scared, but if something was to scare me this might be-"
"DiNozzo!" Gibb's barked to bring his senior field agent back to his senses. It must be something to freak DiNozzo out like that, but it didn't do either of them, or Tim, any good at all for them to waste time on theatrics. They must have been hidden, too, because Gibbs and given a cursory check in the glove compartment and trunk of the car.
"Sorry, Boss," Tony said on the other end of the phone after several seconds. "These photos, Boss, they're clearly threats. But they were sent to McGee instead of us, so my guess is that someone's using him for something and using us for leverage."
"So these photos are threatening?"
"Majorly, Boss. I'll send them to your phone for you to check out later."
"And you'll be getting some tapes for Abby to go through. I scanned them already, but some of the footage is hard to make out. I'm sure Abby can do something with it, though."
"Tapes of who, Boss?"
"That's what you guys are gonna tell me, DiNozzo, as soon as Abby can clean it up. I've sent it by courier and put a rush on it. You should get 'em soon. These are six persons of interest; four at the hotel desk can be seen clearly, but we need them ID'd, and two in a vehicle that are hard to see, can't make 'em out."
" What the hell is going on, Boss? This is getting big."
"I don't know, DiNozzo, that's what I plan to find out."
"Me and Ziva should join you. We can be there in-"
"Yeah?" Gibbs interrupted. "And who's gonna keep and eye on Abby, Ducky and Palmer? You said it yourself, DiNozzo, the photos are threats. They might need protection, and that's you and Ziva."
A pause, then "Boss, maybe we should tell Vance. We could have a hundred people out looking for Probie in an hour."
"Is that what you wanna do, Tony?" Gibbs asked sincerely.
"Do you?"
"What I want is to find McGee."
"Can you?"
Gibbs detected no doubt in Tony's question, just cautious sincerity. He really wanted to know if Gibbs thought he could find McGee, and this was part of Tony's job as Gibbs' second in command. It was Tony's job to play devil's advocate to Gibbs, as unpopular as that position could be.
Gibbs didn't bother answering the question; he wasn't sure he could answer it. Instead, he said, "Tell you what, DiNozzo.....you're running the investigation on that end, you're in charge over there while I'm gone. You do what you think you have to do, okay? You wanna clue in Vance, then do it. But either way, I'm staying out here and I'm not backing off McGee's trail till I find him. Just keep me posted and do what you gotta do to keep the others safe. I'd better not come back and find out anything's happened to any of them."
Gibbs heard dead air for several seconds, and he knew Tony was debating. "Okay, Boss.....bring him home, okay? I'll keep you in the loop, and everyone will be here when you two get back."
Gibbs didn't reply and he knew Tony wasn't expecting him too. Instead, Gibbs simply disconnected the call. Tony would have been proud to see Gibbs' approving nod.
Gibbs wondered how long it would be before Tony disregarded his orders and joined him.
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