8
"Abby…how long…? You should have woken me."
"No way Tim; you need as much rest as you can get, I'm good, you just relax." Truth was she'd been a little disappointed Tim was sleeping when she'd arrived with Ducky for afternoon visiting. The disappointment had been brief because it was obvious for all to see, her friend was desperately sick and whatever sleep he was getting could only be good for him.
Ducky had forewarned her that dialysis could be an exhausting process and there wouldn't necessarily be an immediate improvement in Tim's condition. However, one look at Ducky's face as he laid a gentle hand on Tim's forehead and checked the monitors told Abby the treatment hadn't helped Tim in the way Ducky had hoped. Within minutes of their arrival he'd gone in search of Dr Henley.
"I shan't be long my dear, do you want to come with me?"
"I'll stay, even if he's sleeping I...I'd rather be with him."
He'd kissed her and she'd settled in to watch, attempting to control the whirlpool of emotions stirred up by seeing Tim in his current condition. She'd watched the uneven rise and fall of his chest, noted the slightly erratic heartbeat on the monitor, seen the ever-deepening shadows under his eyes and she'd wanted to wrap him in her arms and wish it all away. Only it wasn't going away, he was getting worse every time she saw him, and it was breaking her heart that her beloved science wasn't riding to his rescue.
Back at the lab she'd worked so hard with Jimmy and Ducky, and she knew they were working here at the hospital too; examining every sample they had, checking every resource available to them, all in a vain search for something to halt Tim's deterioration. It was on Jimmy's insistence that she'd taken a break to visit Tim, her own promise to see him only when they had something to help swept away by the hours of futile testing and searching; Jimmy had told her another hour wouldn't make a difference and he'd carry on working while they spent some time at the hospital, for the last thirty minutes Abby had debated whether she should have stayed at NCIS, but now Tim was awake, she knew Jimmy had been right. Seeing him, talking with him…oh how much she wanted to hold on to him; she wouldn't do it, given the ease with which he was getting bruised she was scared to touch him. He seemed to sense her reluctance and reached out to her.
"Hold my hand Abs…please? I feel…everyone's tip-toeing round…"
"If you're sure, I don't want to hurt you."
He smiled, it wasn't the warmest smile she'd ever seen from him, but it was precious because she knew how much effort it was costing him just to stay awake. "You okay Abs…? You look tired."
"We've been busy and…we miss having you around."
"I miss being there…all this…wasn't expecting…" His voice, barely more than a raspy whisper became a dry, gasping cough, he tried to reach the beaker on the bedside table.
"I've got it Tim; here." Abby held the beaker, and carefully put the straw in his mouth. "Steady sips, that's it, not too much."
Tim leaned back against the pillows, a few words and he was already exhausted. "Thanks…better now…just so tired…"
"Don't fight it Tim, sleep. We're going to find out what's causing this, I promise. Gibbs and Tony are on their way to get the guy behind this and when they get him, you know they'll make him talk."
"If anyone can…Abs, tell them…everyone, they should…get sleep too…important to rest…"
His eyes closed and he was asleep before Abby could answer, it was just as well, because she wouldn't lie to him, and there was no way they'd be resting, not until they had answers. A few minutes later Ducky entered quietly and for the last few minutes of their allotted hour they sat quietly, growing ever more fearful, Abby knew Dr Henley's news hadn't been good or Ducky would have come in smiling. She managed to restrain herself until they were in the elevator. "Ducky, please tell me."
He stared at the chrome doors, this wouldn't be the only time he'd have to say it, but telling Abby would be the most difficult…
NCIS NCIS
Under most other circumstances this would have been one of the most exciting rides of Tony DiNozzo's life, bouncing the Atlantic waves in a US Coast Guard UTB was the stuff of James Bond fuelled dreams, but today…he wanted it to be over so they could get to the yacht and question Vincent Cantwell. They'd get the answer from him, they had to, Cantwell had to know how they could save his friend because right now he was their only hope, Star Wars. "Hey Probie-Wan I just…" For an instant he'd forgotten and turned to the person by his side thinking it was Tim, because it should be him, he shouldn't be…
Luckily the roar of the engine and the wind meant his mistake hadn't been heard, he didn't need Gibbs to see how close he was to the edge. He'd been doing okay, just about, right until the moment Ducky called. They'd landed at Norfolk, courtesy of a Marine helicopter, and were heading to the dock when Gibbs' phone sounded, he'd put it on speaker when he saw Ducky's name on caller ID; whatever he had to say it was best they heard it together. "How's he doing?"
"Badly…Jethro, we're out of options. You have to get to Cantwell, and he has to tell you what was in the food, we've done everything we can, I fear…Timothy is fading Jethro and we can't help him, he's relying on you, we all are."
With Ducky's words echoing in their minds they'd raced to the quayside and boarded the UTB. "Gibbs, we're ready for you, let's move!"
"Borin, thought it was your day off?"
"Not when a friend's in trouble Gibbs; from the look of you I'm guessing McGee's not doing any better."
"He needs us to be moving, not talking." Gibbs strode toward the bow without another word. Abigail Borin signalled to the boat skipper and the engines fired, Tony gave a quick smile. "He doesn't mean anything, we're all…"
"Don't worry Tony, I'd be the same if it was one of my team. Can you tell me, how is he?"
Tony stared out to sea, blinking as the salt breeze hit his face. "We're not going to lose him, I don't care what the doctor says, Tim's stronger than they think…they don't know him like I do. We have to help him, get to Cantwell and make him talk."
This was a Tony she'd never seen before, gone was the wisecracking man about DC, eager to charm everyone in his path; the man in front of her was driven, focussed on a single purpose, and he was scared. She gripped his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "We'll get him Tony, we have his position, he's not getting away, you hold on tight and let us take the strain for a while."
From then on Tony hadn't taken his eyes off the horizon, standing beside Gibbs they'd peered ahead, knowing each minute was bringing them closer to Cantwell's yacht. After what seemed way too long Gibbs pointed and called out. "There. Your two-o-clock Tony, you see it?"
"Oh yeah, not long now."
"Gibbs, there's a call for you on the radio, Ellie Bishop? Said she had to speak to you."
"Thanks Borin, she's a newbie, joint assignment with the DoD." He followed her to the bridge and picked up the radio. "Bishop, you have something?"
"I thought you could use some background information on Cantwell before you interview him."
"Go ahead."
"Okay, Vincent Cantwell, 63 years old, owns more than thirty companies, not that he makes it obvious; one of them is Dunster Real Estate, I remembered his name from the warehouse search…not important, what is…hidden deep inside his portfolio is Aborah Labtech, one of the foremost research labs in the country, and get this Gibbs, they specialise in haematology research. There are whispers they're trying for a military contract, nothing concrete, the Director's trying to get answers, but it's not easy on the weekend. Aborah's been investigated more than once, medical ethics violations, nothing stuck, looks like Cantwell has friends in high places."
"They won't help him this time, good work Bishop, out."
Gibbs hurried back to Tony and passed on the information, Tony was still staring forward, taking in every curve of Cantwell's pride and joy.
"Look at that thing, how much would something like that cost?"
"Seven figures easy, won't do him any good in prison."
"Can we prove anything Boss? We only have Boyce's word…"
"And my gut, yours too. He's behind this Tony, we know it."
"We'll be alongside in five minutes Gibbs, I'll come aboard with you as Coast Guard representative, but it's your interview." Borin was prepared to give them some leeway with the interview; Tim McGee was a good agent, and she liked him. If Cantwell was the man behind his illness and the other deaths she'd heard about, he didn't deserve the kid glove treatment and if Gibbs and Tony went a little beyond normal boundaries, she would most likely be turning a blind eye.
NCIS NCIS
"Tim…Tim, it's me again, I'm sorry to wake you."
Tim's eyes opened slowly and he blinked as he tried to focus on the person beside him; Nurse Casillas. "More tests?"
"We need another blood sample I'm afraid, and there are a couple of mental acuity tests. I'll just get you sitting up a little." She adjusted the angle of the bed and smoothed his pillows. "How's that?"
"Good, thanks." Tim watched as she drew blood, at least he didn't have to endure the search for a vein any longer, they'd put in a cannula and used it instead. He answered all the questions asked of him, although he had to concentrate really hard on a couple, and they weren't difficult; his head felt…it was starting to feel like it didn't belong to him. "Nurse, would you…? There's, in my bag, a notepad and pen."
She opened the cupboard and took out his go-bag. Tim couldn't help a slight grimace…just a couple of days ago he'd been so sure he'd be using the clothes in the bag and getting out of here, now…"There you go, is this what you wanted?"
"Thank you."
"Is there anything else?"
"No thanks…just have some thinking to do."
NCIS NCIS
They'd found Vincent Cantwell siting in the sun deck of his Lagoon 560 catamaran, the Primera Sangra, he was relaxed, totally at ease in his surroundings, and he didn't appear at all disconcerted by the sudden arrival of armed federal agents on his yacht. Gibbs showed his badge and took a moment to weigh up the man he knew for sure was at the root of Tim's illness. Cantwell was a shade under six feet tall, around 200lb, receding light brown hair, dark brown eyes, his face tanned by many hours at sea. He was dressed in light grey chinos and a white cable sweater, and looked completely at home. He simply oozed charm and calm, Gibbs wanted to knock the easy smile right off his face, he wouldn't do it, this was a time for cool heads.
"So Special Agent Gibbs, what brings you all the way out here this fine Sunday afternoon?" Cantwell's voice was mellow, with the slightest hint of a Massachusetts accent, and without a hint of tension.
"We want to know what you're doing at Aborah."
There was a slight reaction, a brief glance to the man on his left, but within a breath Cantwell was in control again. "I don't have much to do with the day to day running of the company, but I'll be happy to help any way I can."
"Can you tell me why you're feeding contaminated food to homeless people?"
Tony took a step closer as Cantwell grinned; a look from Gibbs stilled him.
"Why ever would you think my client has anything to do with such a thing?" The dark-haired, rotund man sitting beside Cantwell had suddenly come to life. Gibbs turned to Cantwell, making no attempt to disguise the contempt in his voice. "You take your lawyer everywhere?"
"Hardly Agent Gibbs, Owen is here as a friend; yes he is my attorney, but I have no need of his services today. Contaminated food you say? I can tell you hand on heart, no company within my remit has ever been involved in such a thing."
"So when we get a search warrant and rip your lab apart, we won't find anything that caused the deaths of innocent people."
"There's not a judge out there who'll give you a search warrant on such tenuous grounds."
"Rest easy Owen." Cantwell handed his friend a glass. "Help yourself to another drink, I'm happy to deal with our naval friends." He gave Gibbs a well-rehearsed smile. "Let's talk together, you and I, cards on the table. Aborah is a company close to my heart, they do wonderful work."
"Wonderful…you call killing innocent men and women wonderful?"
Cantwell shrugged, and it took every last ounce of Gibbs' self-control not to knock him down. "When you're doing ground-breaking work, there's always the possibility of collateral damage."
"Don't you dare! They were people, good people who'd fallen on hard times. You have the chance to make something right, we have five more in the hospital, they're real sick, you can save them, just give us the antidote."
"They weren't people, they're vermin, and if our work got some of them off our streets, so much the better. As for an antidote, we're developing bioweapons to use against the scum of the earth Agent Gibbs, why on earth would I care about an antidote? The people you say are sick, if they're strong enough they'll survive, if not…we're rid of a few more rats."