"Oh, girls," he sighed. "I really don't like it when you fight me."
He spun, walked to the stairs, and disappeared behind them. When he returned, he was clutching a pipe and a coil of rope.
Holt set the pipe at his feet and slowly began uncoiling the rope.
"You know," he chuckled darkly, "I don't usually bludgeon my victims. Not really my MO. Course, you girls probably know that already."
A sizable portion of rope was now piled on the floor. Reaching into his back pocket, Holt cut the portion from the main coil, then repeated the process. Two victims. Two ropes.
"Still a little hazy there, Ziva?" He flashed a sickening smile. "No worries. I'll soon put you out of your misery."
Ziva narrowed her eyes. She could see blood dripping from Holt's left ear, and knew she wasn't the only one feeling hazy. As subtly as she could, she scratched the basement floor with her fingernail, hoping to attract Angela's attention.
Success. In her peripheral vision, Ziva caught the slightest hint of a head turn from the other woman. Slowly, the former Mossad agent twitched one finger, two, then three in a signal to move on the count of three.
As Holt stooped to reclaim the pipe, an unexpected crash echoed from upstairs, providing Ziva with the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard. When Holt's head jerked up towards the staircase, Ziva gave her whispered cue of 'three' to Angela and shoved herself away from the wall and towards Holt with as much strength as she could muster. She felt the arm still chained to the wall get yanked out of its socket and she bit back a cry of pain as her right leg swung out and knocked their captor off his feet.
He slammed into the floor with a grunt and Angela, to Ziva's surprise and delight, kicked her foot out and at his head. Her heel connected with his temple with a satisfying thud that knocked him unconscious just as the basement door crashed open above them.
Gibbs and Cam moved swiftly through the front door, clearing one side of the single story before reconvening with DiNozzo and McGee in front of the final door near the back of the house.
"Basement," Tony whispered unnecessarily.
Gibbs nodded, then rammed his shoulder into the door and swung his gun out in front of him.
"NCIS!"
The four came to a halt at the top of the stairs as they took in the scene before them. Angela was retracting her foot away from Holt's bloodied head. Both women were breathing heavily and their serial killer appeared to be unconscious.
The agents heaved sighs of relief and lowered their weapons as they descended the stairs. Gibbs tossed McGee the walkie.
"Call Booth. Tell 'im where we are," he ordered.
"Yes, Boss." McGee tossed a worried look towards Ziva and Angela and then jogged back up the stairs and outside to make the call.
Tony, Cam, and Gibbs rushed forward. The latter dragged Holt out of the way and cuffed his unconscious body. He deposited him in the corner of the basement and moved back over to the women on the floor.
Angela appeared more or less unharmed, save for some dirt and sweat and a couple bruises. Her unchained arm was wrapped around her stomach, but she didn't seem to be alarmed about the baby.
Ziva, on the other hand, looked much worse for the wear. Blood matter her dark hair and her likewise dirt- and sweat-streaked body was sprawled out and heaving with exhaustion.
Tony hovered over his partner feeling helpless as Cam quickly checked on Angela and her baby.
The artist simply waved her friend away in frustration.
"I'm fine. Cam, we're fine. Help Agent David." Cam nodded and moved over to Ziva, gently elbowing Tony aside. Gibbs took her place beside Angela and used his knife to free her wrist from the shackle.
"Don't get up," he ordered, and she acquiesced, leaning back against the wall.
"We'll need ambulances for both of them," Cam stated.
"I am fine," Ziva sighed. "I can walk. Unchain me."
They ignored her protest.
"But there's no cell reception," said Tony.
Cam shook her head. "Booth will have a satellite phone in his SUV." The doctor refocused her attention on Ziva, reaching out to gently prod the agent's bloodied temple.
Ziva waved her away with her good arm. "I am fine. Really. I have no immediate injuries." She attempted to use one arm to push herself up to a sitting position, but Tony reached out to stop her.
"Ziva, come on, you're hurt."
"Just unchain me. Please," she replied.
Gibbs sighed and stepped over the extended chain. Ziva couldn't help a pained hiss as her boss jammed his knife into the keyhole of the cuff and unchained her. Gibbs's mouth formed a thin line as he gently gripped her wrist and touched her visibly swollen shoulder.
"Dislocated," Cam observed.
Ziva huffed, frowned, and slowly disentangled herself from Gibbs's grasp, managing finally to pull herself up to a sitting position, with significant effort.
Cam winced, watching her. "We should try to get them upstairs, if we can."
"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. "We'll leave Holt. 'Til the ambulances come. I'll stay here-"
"Ange!" Hodgins interrupted suddenly, bounding down the stairs to reach his wife. "Angela!"
"Jack." Angela smiled in relief as her husband dropped to his knees and brought her to his chest as best he could.
"Oh my God, are you all right?" he cried.
"I'm fine, honey. The baby's fine. Help me up, okay?"
Booth, Brennan, and McGee appeared at the doorway. Gibbs gestured to Booth.
"Call for ambulances. Three. And make sure it's Bethesda."
"Got it," Booth said without protest, and left.
"Let's get these two upstairs," Gibbs ordered. "I'll handle Holt down here. Doubt he's waking up anytime soon."
Brennan, Cam, and Hodgins helped a weak Angela up the steps and out into the driveway, making her sit and rest in the NCIS Charger while they waited for the medics.
With a little more effort, and much to Ziva's chagrin, McGee helped lift the former assassin, who was still feeling some of the weakening effects of Holt's drugs, into Tony's arms, and then assisted them both up the basement stairs. Careful of Ziva's injuries, they, too, maneuvered out to the front of the house.
"Okay, Tony, now put me down," Ziva growled.
"Put you down where, Zee-vah?"
"On the grass, To-nee. I don't care. Just put me down."
"Fine, fine." Tony carried her to the other side of the Charger and Cam opened the door for him. He placed her inside, as gently as he could.
They had to wait another thirty minutes before the ambulances arrived, by which point Angela had drifted off to sleep and Holt had regained consciousness. Gibbs had dragged him out of the house not long after and the serial killer was now handcuffed to the porch railing, a heavy glare on his blood-streaked face. Ziva had also tried to sleep, but Cam adamantly refused to let her do so because of her likely concussion.
At last, the ambulances swung into the spacious driveway and Gibbs, Booth, and Tony directed the EMTs as needed. Hodgins joined Angela in her ambulance and Gibbs ordered Tony to accompany Ziva and McGee to go with Holt to keep him contained.
Booth took his remaining people and followed them to the hospital while Gibbs remained behind to secure the scene. Booth, Brennan, and McGee would rejoin him later.
It was going to be a long day.
After a brief check over for both her and the baby, Angela was cleared to leave Bethesda. She and Hodgins took a taxi back to the Jeffersonian, where Angela lay down for a nap on her office couch with her head pillowed in her husband's lap.
Ziva was ordered to stay in hospital overnight for monitoring of her mild concussion. She got a sling and painkillers for her dislocated shoulder and was receiving an IV to help purge her of the paralytic second drug Holt had administered. And despite the doctor's gentle insistence after hearing the full story of Holt and the kidnappings, Ziva had strongly refused to speak to the "stupid in-hospital psychiatrist." They would let her tomorrow afternoon.
Holt was given only the minimum treatment he required while chained to the hospital bed under McGee's watch before an FBI car arrived to take him into official custody.
It was a week until both full teams met together again. They took up three tables at The Founding Fathers and everyone clutched the drink of their choice, save for Angela, who was sipping an ice water.
At one of the tables, Sweets, Daisy, Palmer, and his girlfriend Breena sat laughing and chatting lightly over beers and tequila shots. Next to them, Tony, Ziva, Hodgins, Angela, Abby, and McGee discussed science, old cases, Ziva and Angela's impressive take-down of Carl Holt, who now was destined to rot in a cell for the rest of his life. Ziva still grudgingly wore her sling, but she hadn't taken a single painkiller since she had been released from the hospital, asserting stubbornly that she didn't need them in spite of a hovering Tony and Abby's insistence.
At the last table, Gibbs, Ducky, Booth, Cam, and Brennan shared opinions and congratulations on the Holt case, occasionally pausing to listen to another of Dr. Mallard's crazy anecdotes. All of them were simply happy to have caught Holt and brought the murderer of the young women to justice. And to have made some new friends in the process.
Even Gibbs admitted reluctantly that he wouldn't mind working with Booth's team in the future.
But only if they had to, of course.
And that's it! I'm really sorry it took me so long to update this, guys. Life just got in the way I've been extremely busy for a number of reasons; and then of course, there were times when I just didn't feel like writing. But I'd really like to thank you all for your continued support with your reviews, follows, and favorites. So thank you. Very much. Also, this is definitely the last chapter, but I may smooth out a few things from earlier chapters in the coming days so just don't mind the random updates later unless you want to read it again. Thanks again for reading everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this, or liked it, at least.