Chapter 7

"I thought you said I'd be able to leave by now." Tim was trying not to sound petulant, but even though he didn't feel entirely stable when upright, his mind was perfectly clear and he was tired of sitting around.

"We want to be sure there's no recurrence of the swelling, Timothy. I'm sure you don't want that either."

"No, but–"

"We know what we're doing, and right now that involves taking no chances. Would you rather go home by yourself and have a relapse?"

Tim sighed. "No."

"Good. I know this is frustrating for you when you feel fine, but please trust me. Tomorrow, or Friday at the latest."

"Okay." Tim sighed again as Dr. Bills left. Then, he stood and wobbled his way to the bathroom. He grimaced at his reflection. The edges of the bruise on his face were starting to turn green as his body began to heal. As he headed back to his bed, Abby stuck her head in the door.

"Hey, McGee!"

"Abby!" Tim pulled the back of the hospital gown closed and slowly edged his way back to the bed.

"Tim, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Tim blushed. "I know, but..." he trailed off. He sat down and pulled up the blankets.

"You're looking pretty colorful now."

"I know. That means I'm getting better, I suppose."

"When are you getting released?"

"Tomorrow or Friday. I was hoping for sooner, but Dr. Bills says they need the extra time."

"I guess they know what they're talking about."

"Yeah," Tim agreed reluctantly.

"You bored, Tim?"

"I've been laying around for four days, Abby. Of course, I'm bored."

"You want some company?"

Tim smiled. "Are you offering?"

Abby grinned back. "Are you accepting?"

"Have a seat," Tim said and gestured grandly at the chair by the bed.

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"I didn't do anything, like you said, Agent DiNozzo." The desk clerk was in his early twenties and looked both nervous and excited by all the action. "As soon as I saw their faces on the TV, I knew they were in the hotel."

"What room?"

"Room 23. Here's the key."

Tony took it. "I don't think we'll need it. Stay here."

Gibbs, Tony and Ziva headed to the room. The drapes were pulled over the window, and the television was on. Gibbs nodded at the other two and drew his gun. Together they burst into the room. It was empty.

Ziva went into the bathroom. "Clear!"

Tony opened the closets. "All clear in here, boss."

Gibbs looked around. "The manager said no one had checked out." The room was set up like any budget hotel with two beds against one wall, the TV on the other, a couple of closets and a bathroom. Everything seemed normal, except for the TV being on.

Tony noticed a pile of blankets on the floor between the wall and one of the beds. He walked over and nudged it. "There's something under here, boss!" Ziva came over to back him up. Tony quickly whipped the blankets out of the way.

"It's Wheeler!"

"Dead?"

A weak voice came from the body on the floor. "That makes four..."

Tony pulled him out from his hiding place and noticed the blood. "What makes four, Wheeler?"

James suddenly lifted his blood-soaked hand from the wound in his abdomen and grabbed Tony's arm. "I'm four." Then, his hand dropped and he was still.

Tony felt for a pulse. Nothing. "He's dead, boss."

Ziva asked, "What did he mean? Why is he four?"

"I think it's safe to assume that Randall killed his partner. Don't you think?" Tony said. "If McGee was right and he's also the one who killed Matheson and Arons, that would be three kills... if he didn't know that McGee had survived, he might have thought it was four." Suddenly, Tony jumped up. "Or–"

Gibbs finished for him. "Or Randall is going to make it four by getting rid of the only other witness."

Without another word, the three ran out the door. Tony took out his cell phone and called first for backup to come and take over the scene and then to the hospital to have them check on Tim. Gibbs sped onto the interstate... and right into rush hour. There was an accident on the road blocking one of the lanes which snarled the already heavy traffic and slowed progress to a crawl.

Tony moaned, "This is going to take forever."

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"Agent McGee?"

Abby turned around, one sleeve of her jacket hanging loose. A security guard stood hulking in the doorway.

Tim leaned up around her. "Yes?"

"Are you two okay in here?"

Tim and Abby exchanged glances. "Yes. Why?"

"Agent Gibbs called and said we were to make sure you were safe."

"Why?"

"He didn't elaborate, but I'll be right outside until they get here."

"Okay."

The door closed and Abby looked back at Tim. She giggled. "Man, he's huge!"

"Yeah. What do you think happened?"

"I don't know. I'll stay until Gibbs gets here."

"You don't have to, Abby. You just told me you had plans tonight."

"They're not important, Tim. Besides, I won't be able to have fun if I know that you're in peril."

Tim grimaced. "I'm not in peril. I'm sure it's just a mistake." Even as he said it, Tim had a feeling of something being off. Something he was missing. It must have shown in his face.

"I'm not leaving," Abby said as she removed her jacket and sat down.

"Okay."

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"Security sent a guard to McGee's room and he'll be there until we get there," Tony reported.

Gibbs didn't reply. Instead, he swerved off the interstate and began tearing down the back streets.

"What's wrong, boss?"

"Something doesn't feel right."

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The light-hearted atmosphere was gone. They tried to talk, but continually lapsed into silence. The minutes passed and turned into an hour. Abby dozed in her chair and Tim was nearly asleep in his bed.

Then, the door opened. Abby roused just enough to turn and see the huge fist coming at her face. She dropped to the floor. Tim opened his eyes and started to yell for help, but the security guard, whom he suddenly recognized as the man who had wanted to kill him, grabbed a pillow and pushed it over his face. Tim panicked and fought wildly against the strong arms slowly suffocating him. And yet, even as he fought, he couldn't help but wonder if Abby would be okay. She had fallen so heavily. Lights flashed in front of his eyes as his brain, starved for air, began to shut down. Still he fought, although he was weakening fast. It wasn't only for himself. If this man was willing to sneak into the hospital to kill him without any evidence that he'd been able to identify him, he'd certainly kill Abby once he was done with Tim.

A relentlessly objective part of his mind wondered if there'd be any permanent damage to his face and who would speak at his funeral. Tony would definitely lighten things up, but he probably wouldn't want the assignment. Maybe Abby? That had possibilities. Ziva or Gibbs? No. Absolutely not. It was too bad he wouldn't be able to finish his book. He'd had a good feeling about the sequel. Was he popular enough to be published posthumously? Probably not. Finally, the darkness overtook him, and Tim couldn't fight anymore. He stopped and let his mind go blank.

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"NCIS! Freeze!" Gibbs, Ziva and Tony spilled into the room all at once. Randall stood over the bed, smothering Tim with a pillow. Abby lay motionless on the floor. After only a second's hesitation, Gibbs shot Randall twice in the leg. He yelled and let go of the pillow. He made a move toward the trio.

"Move a muscle and you die right here," Gibbs said menacingly. Randall stopped. Tony forced him to the ground ignoring his exclamations of pain. He cuffed his hands roughly behind his back. Ziva had already pushed the call button and was doing mouth-to-mouth on Tim. Gibbs knelt by Abby.

"Is she okay?" Tony asked.

"She'll be fine."

Before Tony could say any more, a veritable horde of doctors came in.

"McGee's not breathing," Ziva reported, shortly. The doctors quickly pushed everyone to the side and started to work on Tim.

One knelt down next to Gibbs and checked Abby. She moaned faintly. "She's alright, but let's get her to a bed."

As Gibbs and the doctor took Abby out of the room, Tony and Ziva looked at Randall lying on the floor, bleeding.

"I guess we have to help him, too," Tony said reluctantly.

"I suppose so," Ziva agreed. Neither of them moved for a moment, but then Ziva sighed and grabbed a doctor out in the hallway. Randall was loaded on a gurney and taken to the secure wing. By the time they got back to Tim's room, only one doctor was there with a nurse taking down vitals. Tim's face was covered with an oxygen mask, but he was breathing.

"Is McGee going to be alright?" Tony asked.

Dr. Bills nodded. "He's breathing again, but still unconscious. I have high hopes that he'll come out of this unscathed."

"High hopes?" Ziva said incredulously.

"I can't be more exact at this point. The brain is still more mysterious than we doctors would like to let on. Timothy recovered from his last attack better than I would have predicted. I have no doubt he'll acquit himself equally well this time. However, we just have to wait." Having said his piece, Dr. Bills went back to his patient. Tony and Ziva looked at each other and turned to find where Abby and Gibbs had gone.