Chapter 12
For the next two days, the MCRT tried to find something to support Tim's story both in the present and the past, but there was nothing. No fingerprints, no witnesses besides Tim, no holes in the stories they had told. Tony and Ziva had checked with Emilio at the restaurant and he had upheld David's alibi. They had even checked Louis Dietrich's phone records and there was a call that night at the time they had said. Basically, if it was Louis and David, they had managed to cover their tracks completely, and while Gibbs didn't believe there was any such thing as a perfect crime, he had to admit that he wasn't seeing the weakness as yet.
There had been no sign of anyone watching Tim, stalking him. They'd gone over Tim's apartment, to make sure no one had been in there. They'd even checked his car. The brake lines, the gas line, the tires. All were in perfect working order. Tim took very good care of his car. There was no sign of any explosives.
Basically, it was looking like Tim had been right. If he had been deliberately targeted, there was no evidence to support it and no one was coming after him. By the end of the week, Gibbs had to give in. They set the case on the backburner and he let Tim go home and sleep in his own bed. He would be coming in to work the next morning and had already promised to check in if he was going to be late.
Tim had insisted that it was over and he seemed to be right, but it didn't feel right. Gibbs didn't like it when things didn't feel right. His gut was telling him that the Metro detective had been right. This wasn't over. He just didn't know what would happen, and if he were honest with himself, he didn't know what to do to help it along. He didn't know how much of Tim's certainty was due to his desire to avoid anything to do with his bullies and how much was because Tim just knew his bullies.
So, reluctantly, Gibbs allowed Tim to go home, although he didn't like it.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tibbs wondered how much of this was his desperate desire to find something and how much was because there was something to find. Regardless, he was staked out at the crime scene, hoping for something that would prove John's belief.
He hated that he had to wait.
All he could see was John's eyes, begging him to find something, to prove what he thought he knew. He would never forgive himself if he left before finishing the case. He had Tommy and Lisa spinning their wheels and McGregor was trying to find something in his searches that would help.
This was the key. This place was the key. He was sure of it.
He just had to wait and whatever they did...if anything...he'd catch it.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim woke up...in his own bed. He was really happy about that. Maybe this could be the start of getting things back to normal. In a week or so, he'd be feeling less achy. The bruises wouldn't be so obvious. Tony would go back to teasing him for being a geek instead of looking at him worriedly. They would stop asking him about his history. He would even take more irritation about his book. ...or maybe not. He did appreciate that they had stopped that.
As he slowly got ready to return to work, he was determined not to think about Louis and David. He could feel the possibility of a return to the obsession of his teenage years, and he didn't want that. He wanted to avoid going back to that. He would just ignore the last week and pretend it had never happened.
He ate breakfast, gathered his stuff and headed out to his car, still feeling the little boost he always got at seeing it. His car was a symbol of the unexpected success he'd had. It made him smile.
He got into the car and headed to work. He could drive straight through DC to get to the Yard, but he decided that he'd go around, take the Beltway. It wouldn't get him there fast, necessarily, but he really wanted to enjoy the freedom he had now. He had felt a bit confined when he had to be protected all the time. He was leaving early.
He had the time.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Gibbs still had that unfinished feeling about what had happened to Tim. He would feel better seeing Tim come in to work without any problem.
His phone rang.
"Gibbs."
"Hey...uh...Boss?"
It was Tim, and that was a shaky voice.
"What is it, McGee?" he asked.
"I'm...not going to be on time to work...if I make it...at all..."
"Why?"
"Because...I can't stop my car."
No question. Tim was scared.
"What do you mean you can't stop it?"
"I mean that I can't get it to stop. I push on the brakes and nothing happens. I tried to turn off the cruise control. That doesn't work. The key won't turn. Boss, I can't stop the car, and...and I'm going pretty fast."
"Define pretty fast."
"Sixty. Sixty miles an hour. Boss...if you want..."
"What?"
"You can say it serves me right. You can blame me for this. I..."
Gibbs could hear the panic in Tim's voice. He needed to stop the panic before it made Tim make mistakes he wouldn't otherwise make.
"Stop, McGee."
"Right. Okay."
"You know how to drive. You know how to drive at that speed. Don't panic."
He heard an audible swallow.
"Right. What do I do, Boss? I don't know what to do. What if there's a traffic jam or something? I don't want to get anyone killed. There's...traffic..."
The elevator dinged and Tony got off.
"Okay." He snapped his fingers at Tony. "Tony will call Metro. Where are you?"
"On the Beltway. I'm...heading west right now. Boss..."
"Hang on."
"What's going on?" Tony asked.
"Something's wrong with McGee's car. He can't stop it."
"Sabotage?"
"Don't know. He thinks so."
"We checked his car!"
"Not good enough. Get Metro. We need them to clear the road and keep McGee from getting in an accident. He said his speed is sixty."
"And he can't stop?"
"Nope."
Tony nodded and pulled out his phone.
"McGee," Gibbs said.
"Still here...or...still driving. I'm not where I was."
"We're getting Metro out to you. Whatever you do, stay on the phone. We need to be able to track you until the cops catch up."
"Right. You know...it's not really safe to drive and talk on the phone," Tim said with a shaky laugh. "Boss...I'm really nervous."
"You're going to be fine."
"I hope so...but..."
"No. You're going to be fine. Don't think of any other possibility."
Even while he said it, he was worried. If Tim couldn't turn off his car, how was he going to be stopped? Until he ran out of gas, he wouldn't be stopping at all, unless he got in an accident.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim thought he might be staring at his death. He was waiting for a chance to get off the Beltway and head away from DC, away from the more populated areas in the hopes of avoiding a collision, but he had to stay on a road that had at least four lanes because he needed to be able to get around people...as he had been, weaving in and out of traffic, praying that there wouldn't be any traffic jam that would make it impossible to weave. He had already decided that, if it came down to it, he would run the car off the road himself rather than crash into another person.
"McGee, we've got your location," Gibbs said. "Metro is on its way."
"I'm not really in the Metro anymore, Boss," Tim said, barely suppressing a panicked laugh. "I just got onto 270."
"With what's going on, it's easier to get one group rather than try to figure out where you'll be going next. They know what's going on."
Suddenly, Tim saw police lights behind him.
"I see at least one police car, Boss."
"Good. Now, McGee, tell me how much gas you've got."
"I don't know. The display isn't working but I haven't filled up for a week or so...maybe I had...uh...half a tank. I get about 26 miles to the gallon for highway driving...which is what I'm doing right now."
Tim was only barely keeping a handle on his panic. He was terrified. This had been the last thing on his mind when he had started driving. Everything had been normal until he'd tried to slow down...and nothing had happened.
"McGee, take a deep breath."
Tim did as he was told, but it didn't help much.
"Boss...what are they going to do?"
"We're going to figure it out."
Then, Tim saw a very bad sign ahead.
"Brake lights," he said loudly.
The cop car seemed to see the same thing and sped up with its siren going as it passed Tim and stayed right in front of him. The cars ahead began to move over and slow down. Tim wondered if the other drivers thought he was just being a jerk by tailing a cop car, but that didn't really matter right now. He just had to keep driving and praying that no one would try to cut him off. He swerved into the shoulder on the left side of the freeway once and then got through the slowdown.
After they got through the area of slowed traffic, Tim looked in his rearview mirror and saw another police car behind him, lights on. At least people should be getting out of the way. Tim really didn't want to get into an accident.
"Maybe they could just shoot out the gas tank or something, Boss," Tim said.
"That could blow up the car, McGee."
"Oh...right. I don't know if I can stand the stress of driving until I run out of gas, Boss! If I'm right about how much gas I have...that's 200 miles I could go before I run out! That would get me up to Hagerstown or farther!"
"We'll figure something out."
"Shoot out the tires?"
"You'd probably spin out and hit someone."
"Okay. I could drive it into a large body of water?"
"And drown?"
Tim laughed shakily.
"I can't think of any along this road anyway. I'm just tossing out ideas, Boss. ...while I've got the time."
"Stay calm."
"Boss..."
"Don't even say it. Don't even think it, McGee. You're not assuming that this is going to kill you. There is a limited amount of time the car will work. You will stop eventually."
"But that's only true until I hit someone and kill them! I'm not going to do that!"
"Good. Don't."
The police car ahead of him tapped his brakes a few times, getting Tim's attention. Tim looked ahead.
Traffic jam. His heart jumped into his throat. The car signaled to the left and eased into the emergency lane on the left shoulder. Tim followed. Cars were shifting over as they could, but it was slow going.
"Traffic jam," he said softly.
"Just stay calm, McGee."
"Yeah. Right."
All the cars were moving over. The police car in front was honking his horn with his siren on and his lights flashing...and still some people were taking their own sweet time. Tim wanted to shout at them that he could kill them if they didn't get out of the way. They were forced to swerve onto the shoulder again. This time, Tim almost gave in to his panic.
There were a few choice words that came from his mouth.
Then, they were through the jam and Tim was shaking.
"Tim?"
"Still here, Boss," Tim said.
"Yeah, I heard."
"I can't keep this up, Boss. I really can't. I'm two seconds away from freaking out."
"You can do it."
Then, Gibbs was talking in a low voice to someone else. Tim had never felt less like he could do something. Every car was driving his stress level up higher with no easing. Tim felt like his head (or his heart) was about to explode.
"I don't know if I can."
No response.
"Boss? Boss?"
The idea of dealing with this all on his own, even if Gibbs couldn't do anything other than tell him to pull himself together, was even more terrifying.
"McGee, the police need to talk to you. They've come up with an idea to stop your car before you run out of road."
Tim forced himself to laugh, but it sounded fake even to himself.
"You need to hang up and they'll call you. Okay?"
"Um...okay."
"We're on our way up to you, McGee. You'll be fine."
"Right...right."
"Hang up."
"Okay." Tim hung up his phone and then jumped when it rang a few seconds later.
"Agent McGee?"
"Yes."
"This is Detective Warner."
"From...from Metro?"
"Exactly."
"I thought it...would be a...highway patrolman or something."
"I have a hard time letting go of cases, and I live in this area. When I heard about it, I headed out."
"Oh." Tim didn't know what else to say. He'd barely spoken to the detective, to have him acting like he was concerned with Tim's well-being...it was a surprise.
"Now, in about ten minutes...your speed is still about sixty, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good. In about ten minutes, the car ahead of you will pull to the side and you'll see a van. Much larger than you, but not too high off the ground. You're going to run into it."
"What?"
"We're going to stop your car."
"It's not just my brakes!" Tim said. "It's more than that!"
"I'm aware of that. We're going to break your car, basically. If your engine isn't working, then, your car can't keep moving."
"But it's almost new!" Tim said and then flushed. "Nevermind, forget I said that. That was really stupid. Like my car is more important than keeping me from killing someone."
"We've cleared the road ahead of you. I'm worried about keeping you alive, Agent McGee."
Tim laughed a little.
"Just watch for the van."
"Right."
There were a few minutes of silence. Then, the police car ahead of him pulled over into the right-hand lane.
"I see the van."
"Good. We're going to be going just a little slower than you."
"We? You're in the van?"
"Yeah. Told you. I have a hard time letting go."
"I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"I'm not worried."
"Fine, but I am."
"Just focus on keeping your cool."
"No cool here."
Det. Warner laughed.
"We'll start crushing your engine in no time. All you have to do is keep your car going straight. Don't start swerving. Push on your brakes and keep pumping them until they start to react. If it's your computer system, then, it's possible that breaking your engine will let your brakes work...if they will. If not, we'll still stop you."
"Okay."
Tim saw the van getting closer and closer to him. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he came closer and closer to collision.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Det. Warner looked at Ben Johnson, the driver of the van. They'd loaded the back of the van with heavy weights. It wasn't made to crumple on impact. It had been made to never crumple. Ever.
"Here he comes. Ready to slow down?"
"Sure thing. I'm glad this isn't my van."
Det. Warner laughed. "It's not mine, either."
"Det. Warner, I'm about to hit you. I hope you know what you're doing."
"He's pretty freaked out," Ben said.
"He has the right to be," Det. Warner said. "Agent McGee, we're ready."
There was a heavy jolt, threatening to push them on down the road.
"Nice," Ben said. "I'm going to start braking, okay?"
"Do it."
Ben put on the brakes and there was a squeal from the back. The Porsche wasn't slowing down at all.
"Definitely not the brakes. If it was, this would slow it down."
"Yep." Det. Warner talked to Tim again. "Okay, you pushing the brakes, Agent McGee?"
"I'm almost standing on them. I'm still going sixty."
"We can feel that. We're going to start slowing down. Get ready for a heavy jolt. If your airbag deploys, just don't jerk the wheel. Try to keep the car going straight."
"Okay."
Det. Warner looked at Ben.
"Slow us down."
"It's a shame to destroy such a nice car."
"Try not to blow it up. We're going to need to see what caused this."
"Right."
Ben pushed on the brakes. They felt a heavy jolt. Then, a strangled exclamation from the phone told Det. Warner that something had happened.
"Agent McGee?"
There was no reply.
"Agent McGee!"
"Ow."
"Airbag?"
"Yeah. Ow. I can't see a thing."
"Just keep going straight. That's all you need to do."
"I don't think the engine has slowed down at all."
"Give us a chance. Next jolt is coming."
Ben nodded and gave another slow down. They could both feel the pressure of the car behind them wanting to go faster than the heavy van was letting it.
"Another jolt."
Ben pushed on the brakes again. There was a loud crunching sound and another loud exclamation from the phone.
"Agent McGee?"
He could hear some heavy breathing but there was no response.
"Agent McGee, talk to me."
Still nothing.
"He's freaked," Ben said.
Det. Warner looked in the sideview mirror and suddenly realized that Tim's car was falling behind.
"Looks like we did something. Slow down more. The car must be dead."
Ben nodded and started slowing down gradually. There was little resistance, and no speech. They kept slowing down. Whatever Tim was thinking, he wasn't sharing. Of course, he could be passed out or something worse. Best that they get slowed down as quickly as possible. Another few minutes and they were finally at a stop. Det. Warner slugged Ben on the shoulder and jumped out. He hurried back to the Porsche. The front was crumpled as they had planned.
He walked to the driver's side and opened the door.
