AN: Hey all! I know I told some of you that the Gibbs decription would be in this chapter, but I worked it into next chapter instead. This chap focuses on the team and their efforts, but next chap goes right back to Tony and Cadence.
Shout-out to my (magnificently astounding) reviewers:
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"Enough," Gibbs barked, shoving away the medic's hand. The insistent woman tried once again to dab at the small wound on his head, but Gibbs locked eyes with her and she froze. "I have a job to do."
"Sir, I very much appreciate that fact, but head wounds are-"
Gibbs stood up and gave the woman a dubious look, dismissing the exaggeration. "It's hardly a paper cut."
"Yeah," the woman shot back. "And paper cuts hurt."
Gibbs released a small growl as the officer they'd spoken to before stepped forward.
"Agent Gibbs, there's nothing you can do. Might as well let them treat you," Gordon said.
Gibbs stiffened. "What the hell are you talking about? My team and I are going in."
He glanced over briefly at Ziva and McGee, both bruised and probably sore, but other than that, no worse for wear. Ziva held a small ice pack to her shoulder, while McGee rubbed the butterfly bandage over his eye gingerly. The two made their way to the surveillance area, which had remained majorly unaffected by the explosion.
Gazing past his agents, Gibbs could clearly see a black screen where the interior of the bank had once been shown. The camera hadn't survived.
Not that he'd expected it to. But to see the evidence right in front of him, to be confronted indisputably with the reality that had just occurred, imagining Tony amidst the mess and smolder…it was enough to shake even the impenetrable Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
McGee and Ziva obviously came to the same conclusion as he watched their shoulders slump. The ice pack Ziva had been holding was flung some forty feet away as the woman attempted to reign in her anger.
Flying glass and the force of the explosion had caused the brunt of their bumps and bruises.
Much harder to treat were the wounds that had cut themselves into each team member. The slices that tore into each of them as they watched the massive destruction of the bank…and imagined the impact it had on those inside.
"—Gibbs. Agent Gibbs!" Officer Gordon shouted, having been trying to get Gibbs's attention.
"What," Gibbs snapped curtly, looking back to the man.
"I said, the building isn't stable. No one's going in there until the first responders clear it."
Gibbs just shook his head. "Nope, we're going in. Now."
"No, Agent, you're not. We're not jeopardizing people's lives to save a handful of people who might not even be alive anyway."
Gibbs took a step closer to the man, eyes glinting dangerously. His tone was controlled and icy. "Whoever is stuck in there right now is injured, probably dying. We leave them in there while we wait for the building to be cleared, there's no way they'll survive."
Officer Gordon didn't back down.
"You go in there blind and unprotected; you're screwing anyone in there who did survive."
"Boss," McGee interrupted urgently. He was holding the small portable speakers in his hands, the ones that had been sitting beside the now-blank monitor. "You should hear this."
Ziva followed close behind McGee, and everyone's attention was drawn to the crackling coming from the small amplifiers.
"McGee, wha-" But Gibbs stopped. His voice halted. Because he heard the faint, almost indistinguishable, yet entirely present murmur of voices. Two of them.
"…s…orry, kid…need…see…k… hurt an…where, sw…heart?"
"Righ'…there."
Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva allowed a small wave of relief to crest and crash upon them. That first voice was so distinctly Tony, and the second so heartbreakingly young. It was them. They were ok, at least for the moment, alive, at least for a time.
"Is there any way you can clean it up?" Officer Gordon asked, arms crossed.
McGee nodded. "With the help of the tech department, I think we can sift through the static and get a better hold on what's being said."
"Do it," Gibbs ordered.
McGee scurried off, Ziva once again following suit silently.
Gibbs grabbed his jacket off the edge of the ambulance. "Now you and your men can supervise using the wire transmission, and keep us updated from the outside."
"That implies that you're going inside, Agent Gibbs." A hint of aggravation leaked into the officer's tone.
"That's because I am," Gibbs growled in return.
Gordon shook his head. "We've been over this. You and your team are not stepping foot into that wreckage of a bank until we know it's safe. While good progress, this changes nothing."
"Goddamnit!" Gibbs screamed in rage. Anger wasn't an emotion foreign to him. Not at all. But this was different. This wasn't just frustration or irritation. It wasn't annoyance or impatience.
It was desperation.
It was helplessness, one of the few things Leroy Jethro Gibbs had yet to train himself to handle.
He swung his arm, catching the open door of the ambulance and viciously slamming it shut. The medical personnel nearby shot him alarmed looks, partly fearful, partly upset. Gibbs almost felt sorry, but then images of a little girl wrapping herself around his senior agent assaulted his mind, and he couldn't bring himself to care about anything else.
"So you're telling me we're supposed to sit here on our asses and listen to those people die? You want me to listen to my agent and a little girl die? Is that what you're saying, Officer?" The title was spat with sarcastic insult. Gibbs hoped the man noticed.
"Until we can stabilize the situation, that is exactly what I'm saying, Agent Gibbs. I don't like it any more than you do, but that's the way it is. You can stay and help in any way you can or you can leave."
Even with Gibbs's burning glare, the man didn't back down. Gibbs would be impressed if he wasn't so damn pissed.
"Your choice, Agent Gibbs," Officer Gordon said. He didn't even blink.
Neither did Gibbs.
"I'm getting my agent and any other survivors out of that bank, Officer Gordon."
"I know."
"And when it's crunch time, no one and nothing can stop me from doing that."
"No one wants to, Agent. We're all after the same thing here. It's just a matter of safety and opportunity." He relaxed sympathetically from his heightened posture. "We're not giving up on your man. But we can't allow you, your team, or anyone else to put themselves at risk in the process."
Gibbs stared at him intensely for a moment before spinning on his heel and walking away without a word.
Officer Gordon let out a deep breath as he watched the man stroll toward his other two agents. His hand absentmindedly whisked through his thinning hair.
I'm getting too old for this shit.
. . .
"Is it working, McGee?" Ziva asked, leaning forward to see what McGee and they tech team were doing. The small group was typing, fidgeting, and trying their best to eradicate the static screaming its way through the speakers.
"Almost," McGee muttered. He, too, was leaning forward, face inches from the computer screen. "Just have to…" His voice tapered off.
Then, the deafening static receded, leaving a voice, clear as day. It rang through the speakers like an opening in the sky, all relief and light and hope.
"…gonna save us."
"Tony," McGee and Ziva both breathed, locking excited eyes with one another.
"What are they like?"
Neither of them had to say Cadence's name to express the relief that touched their hearts.
"They're great…Ziva, the one I was telling you about…She's strong and smart and—don't tell anyone I said this, but—pretty darn intimidating."
McGee shot a sideways glance at Ziva, who was staring at the speakers with shock and amusement and sadness. And perhaps a tinge of regret, but McGee didn't have time to further analyze as Tony's voice continued.
"And McGee, he's one of the smartest guys I know. Started out pretty shaky, but not anymore. You shoulda seen him when we first started working together…Turned green whenever one of us got a paper cut. But not anymore. He's…He's a great guy…"
Ziva was blatant in her observation of McGee. And seeing the raw mixture of surprise and appreciation on his face brought her closer to in-the-moment emotion than she'd been in longer than she cared to consider.
"And my boss…"
They looked at each other, eager to hear what their partner had to say about Gibbs.
"Hey, hey, Cadence."
The immediate shift of tone and ambiance was uneasily noted.
"Tir'd."
The voice was far away and weak, but acutely present enough to drop their hearts into their stomachs.
"Sweetheart, hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to fall in the sleep in the middle of a story? I mean, I know I'm not the most interesting guy in the world, but I hope I'm not that boring…"
The fear that had invaded their own souls now leaked through Tony's panicked voice, and they wanted nothing more than to take his place, take Cadence's place, end this whole nightmare.
"Tony…I know you said not to, but I think I'm getting scared again."
So are we, McGeeand Ziva thought simultaneously.
"Don't be scared, sweetheart. They're gonna find us."
Determination exploded inside each of them.
"Ok."
The ensuing silence, apart from muffled hacking in the background, did nothing to encourage them.
"We must save them." Ziva's voice was caught between a whisper and an avowal, leaving McGee to wonder at how a little girl and longtime partner had managed to seep through the cracks of an exterior which had only hardened through the years.
But he supposed that was Ziva's coping mechanism…had been all along. She had the ability to absorb the events in her life without engaging in a way she was afraid to. Emotionally, sensitively, empathetically. She absorbed and observed and internalized until every event, every conversation, every betrayal, every heartbreak, everything…became a mass inside of her, compacting itself into tiny bits of resolve. The mass hardened with each word, solidified with each wayward glance. Absorb, internalize, compact, harden. It was a vicious cycle of detachment and indifference. One which Ziva herself perhaps did not see herself partaking in.
Until now.
"We must save them." The repetition was so self-oriented that McGee felt as if he was intruding on a personal breakthrough...or maybe breakdown.
Only time would tell which.
The two could very well come hand in hand.
"We will," he said simply.
The two fell silent.
Because, really, there was nothing more to say.