A/N: There is a lot of melancholy in this chapter. Gibbs really starts to sink into his grief. It took a while to write because I wanted it to go in one clear direction. The next chapter will be Saturday at the earliest. Take care this Easter week. Please tell me how this is all fitting together. It makes me work harder. Sheila

Surviving Winter

Chapter 10

Gibbs stared at the young Marine. The bruises, ghostly pallor, fragility, and the unfocused eyes suddenly registered for Gibbs as untreated shock. He took the young man by the arm and led him to a chair. "Sit down, soldier."

He looked up as an agent passed. "Swenson, do me a favor and call Ducky up from autopsy for me."

He knelt in front of Miller. "There's no way you're only two days out of the field, Corporal."

"It's true, sir. They checked us over, fed us, and put us on a transport. We weren't allowed even to pick up our gear. We arrived this morning in Washington and they put us in a hotel. A public relations officer said he wants us to talk to some reporters tomorrow. Families were waiting at the hotel. I don't have family and so I left the hotel a couple of hours ago. I reckon I'm AWOL by now, but I wanted to find what was the truth and what were lies."

Gibbs shook his head. "You haven't been properly debriefed or cared for, son. You need to be in a bed recuperating. This is ridiculous."

"They told us some things on the flight about McGee. I knew he'd been executed, but they said he wasn't NCIS. Said he was a civilian contractor. Said that we're supposed to tell reporters we never knew his name because he'd been engaged in illegal activity. Made no sense, sir. That's not the McGee I knew. He was a special agent with you, wasn't he, sir?"

Gibbs shook his head. The reasoning for such misinformation eluded him. "Of course, he was. Public relations really said those things about him?"

Miller nodded. "Yes, sir. We're all pretty confused. I just need to know the truth. McGee did a lot for us. I don't want to tell lies about him."

Ducky walked up. "And who is this, Jethro?"

Gibbs looked up, his eyes blinking. "This is Corporal Miller. He's one of the Marines captured with McGee."

Ducky's mouth dropped. "They haven't been found yet."

"Apparently, they have. In fact, they were rushed out of Afghanistan. Miller here says they were rescued only two days ago."

Ducky tipped up the boy's chin and peered at his skin and eyes. "He's suffering from dehydration and shock. He should be at the base in Wiesbaden, Germany getting a physical and psychological work up. I wouldn't have expected him back in the states for another week or two."

"Winter's up to something," Gibbs hissed. "He wants to control the press on this story. Don't know why, but he's playing with these soldiers' lives like they're pawns."

"Well, I don't know much about that, but this young man needs immediate care."

….

Wilson picked up Dunham at the sentry gate. As a welcome, he paid three of his Afghani contacts to dress in Free Dunham t-shirts, Mardi Gras necklaces, and signs that called for Justice for Texans. On cue, they started marching in a circle blowing kazoos. The sentry and his supervisor got on the phone, but Wilson paid them no attention. Dunham lit up when he saw his welcoming committee. Wilson festooned him with bright plastic necklaces and a cowboy hat decorated with markers and balloons. For a few minutes, Dunham and Wilson joined the mini-protest, and screeched kazoos at the growing crowd of sentries and other Marines. After a few minutes, they got bored of it, released their protestors, and headed off to a restaurant in the old city.

Dunham looked up from his Turkish coffee. "I can't believe it took five days to get me out of there. I question your efforts to free me."

"I made a formal complaint through Amensty International. There should be a team showing up sometime in the next year."

Chad snorted and shook his head.

Wilson smiled. "It took a couple of days to convince the director you didn't half deserve a jail cell. I thought Winter was going to pop a blood vessel he was so angry. In the end, the director really had to get into an ass kicking contest to get you sprung."

"I knew the director liked me."

"Hell Chad, you're a zoo animal on a good day. He tolerates you as one must tolerate the junkyard dog tied up next door."

"We got anything on Winter?" Dunham scratched at his ragged beard.

"An informant yesterday told me that Hussain is reportedly headed back to the states. I passed that morsel onto Fornell."

"They find the missing Marines?"

Wilson narrowed his eyes. "That's where it gets hinky. Marines were found two days ago, but Winter had them shipped out before anyone could ask too many questions. It wasn't even announced on Armed Forces radio. The unit was quietly informed. That's all."

"Why the hell? There should have been brass bands. It would have been a public relations victory for Winter. I can't make sense of that man.

"I know. Fornell is putting together a Homeland Security fact-finding team. Should be here within the week. He's bringing Gibbs."

Dunham whistled. "Now that's a cockfight I'll pay money to watch."

Wilson sighed. "I can't find a single unit that was ordered to search for McGee's body. I checked every single one in a fifty mile radius of where the Marines were found."

"What the hell?" Dunham scowled.

Wilson squinted at him. "Director wants you out of country. He wants you on the next transport home."

Dunham looked out onto the street. "Sorry, didn't catch that last thing you said."

"For Christ sakes, Dunham. This was straight from the director's mouth."

Dunham sighed. "I want you to tell the director that you reasoned with me for hours. Tried to track me all over Kabul, but you failed to wrangle me. I'll back you up."

"He'll bust your ass."

Dunham leaned forward. "Do you know how many humans possess the genetic makeup to do the crazy shit we do, be good at it, not turn into psychopaths, and even end up liking it? I can handle any ass whipping he gives me 'cause that's all he's going to do."

"Point taken. It does take a special animal to live like this."

Dunham winked at him and raised his coffee in salute.

"Chad, you know there's no reason for Winter to have McGee killed. It doesn't make sense. McGee was his special boy until the hacking techs hit country and that's not happening for a few weeks yet."

"What do you think happened?"

Wilson shook his head. "No clue. But I suspect we're going to find out that this is one of Winter's grand ideas gone bad. He probably only meant to kidnap them in order to drum up publicity for more funding and it went wonky."

Dunham frowned. "Part of that makes sense to me. I'm not sure which part, but I like you, Wilson. You're not nearly as dim-witted as people say."

Wilson threw back his head and laughed.

…

Vance glared at Gibbs as they waited in front of the large screen in MTAC. "I got a feeling I'm going to regret letting you in on this conversation until the day I die."

Gibbs ignored him, arms folded, waiting for Sec Nav to appear on the screen.

The screen opened up and both men stood straighter. "Hello, sir. Thank you for taking time for us today."

Sec Nav frowned. "Is this still about your agent and Colonel Winter? I told you that man is going to stay the full three months. The matter is settled."

Gibbs shook his head. "Sir, are you not aware that NCIS Special Agent McGee was executed last week in Afghanistan by the Taliban?"

Sec Nav froze. "I was told there was a civilian contractor executed. Your man is still in country training technicians. Isn't that correct?"

Vance felt Gibbs' rage and gripped his arm. "Sir, you have been misinformed. Special Agent McGee was captured with four Marines after an attack on an MRAP vehicle that left four other Marines dead. He was executed after he was captured. The four Marines that were missing were rescued just over two days ago."

"It couldn't have been that recent. Those soldiers are doing interviews on ZNN tomorrow morning."

Gibbs' face got red. "One of those Marines came here to offer his condolences for the loss of my agent. He is in no shape to be out of the hospital. They have not been given proper physical or trauma debriefing. They have been told to lie about my agent's presence there. He does not want to speak to the press!"

"Where is this Marine? He should be with the others."

Gibbs stabbed his chest. "He is in my care, and I will not return him to the others! He needs treatment!"

Sec Nav's eyes narrowed. "Director Vance, will you remind the gunny who he is speaking with?"

Vance sighed. "I would if I thought it would help, sir."

Gibbs took a breath. "I apologize for my energy, sir. These young people gave everything for us. They've escaped something horrendous, and they deserve the best care we have to offer. I know my agent deserved better than he got."

"I'm sorry for the news of your agent, Gibbs. I was not properly informed. Are you sure about his demise?"

Gibbs closed his eyes. "We were sent a video of his beheading."

Sec Nav stood up. "This was never brought to my attention, Vance!"

"Actually, sir, I sent it in a communiqué to you the same day we received it."

"I'll follow up on that." Sec Nav's tone softened. "I told Winter that there was a spending bill coming up in the senate next week. Asked him if he had anyone who could give compelling testimony. I imagine that's why we have those Marines home without proper procedure."

Gibbs cocked his head. "Is that acceptable to you, sir?"

Not at all, Gunny. There are other ways we can make our case in Congress. I'll make sure those Marines are taken to Bethesda immediately. There will be no press interviews at this time."

"Thank you, sir. I'll bring Corporal Miller there myself."

Sec Nav sighed. "Has Winter fully debriefed you on the circumstances of your agent's death?"

Gibbs worried his lip for a moment and then turned away from the screen. Vance jumped in. "We have yet to get any sort of accounting from Winter. When we talk to members of his staff, they know almost nothing. We have no idea if there have been efforts to recover his body or not. We have no details of the attack. We have nothing."

"You should have called me earlier."

Vance nodded slowly. "To be frank, we believed Winter had your full support. You made it clear last time that his needs are your priority."

Sec Nav raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I deserve all that, but I can recognize the depths of your frustration. Winter will arrange a full briefing of what happened to Agent McGee in the next 24 hours."

…

It was raining late afternoon, clouds hanging low in the sky with occasional streaks of lightning. Abby lay in her hospital bed and stared at the gloomy sky. Her eyelids were heavy, but she had just enough lucidity to recognize the sedation in her system. Several times, people had stopped in and checked in with her. She knew none of them, but they talked softly and listened well. She'd asked for Ducky and Gibbs, and a woman who had introduced herself as a psychiatrist told her that they were staying away for a few days while she recovered.

Normal Abby would have grabbed her clothes right then and left. But it wasn't just the sedation that slowed her down. Abby felt a sense of relief that she was somewhere quiet where everyone else made the decisions. It didn't bother her that the people around her were strangers. She needed a rest. Reality was appearing in too many different arenas. She logically knew that Tim was gone, but she couldn't convince herself that he wasn't coming back. The contradiction of these conflicting ideas overwhelmed her complex brain. If she could put into words how it felt, she would say that her brain had caught a very terrible case of the flu. It was woozy and weak and feverish, crossing the line into the irrational. She understood that her brilliant mind desperately needed rest.

She wiped her wet eyes. It was as if they were constantly leaking. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the rhythm of the rain against the glass. The drumming sound was soothing and safe, and she sank deeply into it.

…

Gibbs stopped at the mental health unit, and Abby's doctor came out and assured him that she was resting quietly. The psychiatrist said Abby had asked about him only once. Gibbs had expected that Abby would have been more agitated than that. He wondered about the amount of medication she was getting, but the doctor wasn't worried. For a while, he stayed in the waiting room until he realized that there was really no point. There were no instant fixes for this.

He had another stop to make. It was on the top floor in a unit designed for a very special group of people. Traumatized soldiers were brought to this unit to de-compress and find their ground again. He'd once stayed here for a day after he'd been pulled out of Desert Storm with the news of his dead wife and daughter. He hadn't cooperated, refused to attend groups, spit out meds, and busted out the first night. It was a bad time then, and as he looked at the doors, he hoped he'd find something less claustrophobic and more therapeutic this time.

Miller spotted him quickly as he entered. The young soldier was in jeans and a t-shirt. He was still moving slow, but he was in a safe place now. There were other vets and medical staff. Gibbs could feel a sense of purpose and healing in this space now and it calmed him. He gestured toward a room full of couches and Miller followed him. They sat down.

Gibbs nodded. "You look good, soldier."

"Thanks for bringing me here last night, Gunny."

"Did the rest of your unit get here?"

"Yeah," Miller smiled. "And there's no pressure now. If you can believe it, the Secretary of the Navy stopped in today, and thanked us for our service. He apologized for how we were rushed out of country. He sat down with us and wanted to hear the whole story about the capture and the escape."

"Did you talk about McGee?"

"Most definitely, sir. I could tell he was impressed with him. He kept asking questions."

Gibbs looked down. "You've already had to tell that story once today, son, and I hate to ask you to do it again, but I need to know as much as possible about what happened to my…to McGee."

"It would be a pleasure. Can you excuse me one minute?" Without waiting for a reply, Miller jumped up and trotted back down the hallway. He turned a couple of minutes later with three other pale and bruised young people. Miller gestured at them, "This is Corporals Reiser, Finch, and Thompson. When I told them I'd met you, they were quite eager to meet you as well. Perhaps, they can help me with the story."

Gibbs nodded at each of them but said nothing. The moment was overwhelmingly powerful and he didn't trust his voice.

They fell over themselves telling about McGee in the communications hut training and running searches; always patient and kind to anyone that needed to talk. They talked about the surprise attack and how McGee had teamed with a Sergeant to get them out of the overturned vehicle safely. When they spoke about being captured, voices slowed and hesitated as the young soldiers remembered the terror of their situation.

Gibbs put up a hand. "I really appreciate all of this. This story is very important to me. I need to know exactly what happened to McGee, but I don't want to push any of you to talk about anything that is too difficult right now. I can wait."

The only female, a brunette named Finch, smiled. "It's okay, Gunny. We've been itching to tell this story. It was real hard on us when they tried to tell us that McGee wasn't who he said he was, and we knew it was lies. He helped us survive, and I want people to know that."

The youngest one, Reiser, spoke up. "He was real calm, and he told us lots of stories, and it helped us forget how scared we all were."

Miller picked up the thread. "The Taliban didn't take McGee for interrogation until the second day. He told us to not worry about it when they came for him. He said that it was okay because he was going to find out what they wanted…they kept him the longest. It was all day and into the evening. When they brought him back, he looked real bad. He could barely walk, and his chest hurt a lot. We knew there was something he wasn't telling us 'cause he was sad in a way that was different than before. I reckon they told him what was coming, but he didn't say anything. He just wanted to tell more stories. He talked about being in love with a beautiful scientist named Abby. Asked us about our loves. Told me I reminded him of his friend named Tony Nozzio or something. Then he told stories about you and the team practically all night. Said you were the best teacher he ever had. Said he would have followed you into hell itself."

Gibbs' face was a mask as he listened to these kids, but inside his gut ached for stuttering, baby-faced geek who worked so hard. He could picture McGee telling them about Abby and it made him smile. He'd been a secret fan of their romance for years. There were times he'd wanted to shake Abby and say that she'd never find a better man than that anywhere. He thought about McGee with Tony, and how their relationship had deepened such that they'd become brothers.

"Everyone else fell asleep, but I stayed awake and watched McGee. He was very sad, and he stared out at the moon, but when the bastards came, he told me not to get involved. He said he would be fine. He told me I was going to have to be responsible for the rest of the team, and then he left with them." Miller's chin trembled and he looked away.

Finch took a turn, "We heard shouting through much of the day, but we had no idea what happened to McGee. We just waited. The next day, Joe…I mean, Corporal Miller was able to get us out of there."

Gibbs rubbed his mouth for a moment, trying to ease the emotion he felt. "Did anyone ever see any evidence that McGee had been executed?"

All of the soldiers looked at Miller and he nodded slowly. "When I did a quick reconnaissance of the area before we left, I found a flattened stone…and it was covered in blood, lots of it. We left pretty quickly after that."

They were all silent for a moment. Finch was teary. "He was a really good man. Didn't know him long, but he made a difference at a really hard difficult time."

Gibbs nodded. He stayed for another hour listening to whatever they wanted to tell him. They asked him to tell them more about McGee. The lump in his throat caught, and he asked if that could wait until the next time he visited.

Afterward, he walked for miles. He gave into the memories and feelings that he'd hidden from in recent days. The softening light of a coming dawn had risen before he finally hailed a cab to take him back to his car.

…..

McGee had a new best friend and his name was Sergeant Tilson. Actually, he wasn't really McGee's best friend. It would be generous to even label him an acquaintance, but Winter had assigned Tilson to McGee personally and the man followed him everywhere, literally. He was older than McGee, clearly a career Marine. He had virtually no personality and spoke even less than Gibbs. He carried a backpack that was filled with medications and energy bars. At any point, McGee might hear a grunt and find a pill or an energy bar being thrust at him. He took them without question.

At first, he tried to know the man, but Tilson answered questions monosyllabically or not at all. His mission was to watch over McGee, and apparently, that didn't require pleasantries. McGee tried to resist some of the pain medication at first. He worried about being incapacitated as they travelled from unit to unit, but the MRAP played hell with his damaged ribs and travel without pain medication became impossible. McGee tried to ask questions about the missing Marines when they stopped at different outposts, but Tilson deflected them, telling Commanders that Lieutenant Thomas was doing top secret work. Enlisted personnel were warned to not bother Thomas. McGee found it frustrating, but he did little to protest. He became this isolated person who was planted in front of equipment, given orders, and then ignored while he worked. He no longer taught as communications technicians were kept away from him. The pace of the work had stunted his recovery, and he found that he was exhausted constantly. When he slept, nightmares of executions and dying Marines and absent friends crowded his head. He woke in a sweat often, and could sleep for only a few hours at a time.

Every couple of days, he received communiqués from Winter praising him on his good work and encouraging him to keep searching. Sometimes Winter would mention how proud his family was or how Gibbs had sent his greetings. For McGee, it was the only real communication he was getting and he depended on it. He stopped wondering about when he was going home. He was on this seemingly endless journey, and its conclusion seemed to be something that was out of his hands now.

…

Gibbs sat in MTAC waiting for Winter to come on. Ziva, Ducky, and Tony were there as well as Fornell and Vance. Vance fought with him a bit about allowing Ziva and Tony there. Sec Nav was going to on this feed as well, and he worried about outbursts especially from Tony. Vance was also worried about Gibbs who looked like he hadn't slept in days. His clothes were the same that he'd worn the previous day. His face was at least three days of beard. Usually when Gibbs stayed all night at the Navy Yard, he made sure to change into fresh clothing. This morning there was none of the meticulousness. Instead of his usual ferocity, Gibbs seemed almost beaten. Vance knew Gibbs had spent the evening talking to the rescued Marines, and he could only imagine the power of such an encounter.

Colonel Winter popped on the screen split with a picture of Sec Nav at his desk. Winter looked uncomfortable and angry. It was clear he'd been browbeaten into this meeting. "I'm sure you can understand how tremendously busy we've been in recent weeks. It has not been possible to meet with you before now. My staff has done the best they can to keep you as updated as possible on Special Agent McGee's death."

Tony looked at Ziva. The bastard hadn't even offered condolences or apologized for putting McGee in such dangerous circumstances. His instincts were to jump to his feet and let Winter know what a bastard he was but he resisted the urge. Boss was looking really peaked. It wouldn't do to add to his worries.

"Colonel," Vance began. "Let's skip the excuses. We sent Special Agent McGee on a very specific mission. The information we received thus far indicates that you've violated almost every condition of that agreement. We want to know how McGee ended up that far away from Kabul. We need how this attack happened, and we need what efforts have been provided to recover Special Agent McGee's body."

Winter stiffened. "I should have known that we'd start this little meeting with a scolding which is rich coming from someone who doesn't know a damn thing about surviving in a war zone."

"That's enough, Gentlemen. We'll not engage in a shouting match," Sec Nav growled. "There are certainly questions to be asked here. I had an interesting conversation with the FBI director last night who reports that a very similar thing happened to an agent he sent three months ago. He made it back alive because the FBI pulled him out in time. I don't like hearing that. I want collaboration between agencies and military to be professional and mutually satisfying experiences."

"Sir, I am in full agreement, but it is important to understand that this collaboration is impossible when agencies make unreasonable requests. It's as if an exchange can happen only if the agent is returned without a single hair missing on his head. They do not seem to understand the very real risks we take here every day. Perhaps, they feel that their agents are too important for those risks. Perhaps, only those in the military are supposed to fight and die to protect our freedoms."

Gibbs stood. "I don't care about any of that right now. I will forget that you disregarded everything we agreed to. I will ignore the fact that you refuse to be accountable for any of this. All I want to know is what happened to McGee. Why did it happen? And do you have a body for us to bring home to his family?"

Gibbs had an almost pleading tone to his voice, something most in the room had never heard before. The rage in the room started to soften. Gibbs couldn't adequately power struggle with this man, and so he was prepared to forget everything for the sake of bringing McGee home.

Winter worked his mouth for a moment, frowning into the screen. "We didn't recover McGee's body. There was no way to figure out where the atrocity occurred."

Gibbs persisted. "I have spoken to the four rescued Marines. The execution spot has to be only a few miles from where they were rescued. They didn't travel far. It should be easy to create a searchable perimeter."

Winter shook his head. "Under hostile conditions? Gunny, you don't talk like a man who was in a war zone. Of course, we all know that Desert Storm was a short afternoon picnic compared to the struggle we are facing here."

"Agent Gibbs is asking for a very reasonable search, Colonel." Sec Nav answered.

"It has been a week. Animals have dragged the corpse off by now. It is not feasible at this time."

The last statement hit them all hard. No one wanted to think of McGee as a corpse being dragged off and eaten. Tony couldn't hold himself any longer. "Please explain then, Colonel, why this was not undertaken when the Marines were newly rescued!"

"I don't answer to a civilian especially one with no military experience."

"Well, you answer to me, Colonel!" Sec Nav thundered. "You have provided no accountability in anything you have said so far!"

"Sir!"

Sec Nav turned to Vance and Gibbs. "What do you gentlemen need?"

Gibbs walked toward the screen. "I'm going to Afghanistan and I'm going to find out what happened to that boy. I will not interrupt or distract operations. I am a trained Marine. But I will find answers, and if there is a body to be found, I will find it and return McGee home. I will do this with your permission, sir, or without."

"I won't allow you in country." Winter said.

"Gibbs, you are a man of integrity. Will you guarantee that no operations will be disturbed during your time in Afghanistan?"

Gibbs nodded. "You have my word."

Sec Nav nodded. "Winter, you will provide Gibbs and his team access to staff involved with the rescue as well as staff who worked with McGee during his time in Afghanistan. You will assign a small entourage of personnel who will accompany Agent Gibbs to the area he wishes to search. The two of you will not meet while in country. Agent Gibbs will provide a report to me directly upon his return to D.C."

"This is unacceptable, Sir!" Winter's eyes burned.

"Colonel, you are my last great hope in Afghanistan, and I will provide you with whatever resources you need to get the job done, but you are not infallible. In the circumstance of Agent McGee, you acted callously, exposing him to dangers that were in direct violation with the agreement you made with this agency. I met with the young Marines who were recently rescued. You used them as campaign fodder for a spending bill. I think the one who most shows disregard for the importance of these soldiers is their commander. I will not discuss this further. Be prepared to accept these agents at your base as soon as tomorrow. They will be reporting directly to me. I don't want to hear that there are any obstacles to their mission. Understood Colonel?"

"Under protest, sir."

"Noted, Colonel. I expect your attitude to soften by the time they arrive. I must close now. I do not wish to hear of any problems. Am I understood, gentlemen?"

"Yes sir," came replies from both ends of the world.

The feed ended. Gibbs looked around the room. "McGee was my responsibility. I let this thing happen. I don't want to hear any arguments about this. I'm taking the next possible transport to Kabul."

…

TBC

15