The lock gave way easily. Gibbs glanced around the deserted street; checking one last time that no-one was watching him. He slipped inside the hallway, shutting the door silently behind him. He moved swiftly and silently throughout the house, his eyes narrowed as he attempted to see through the pitch blackness. Finally he found the room he wanted, and stepped inside. He made his way to the large wooden desk and flicked on the small table lamp; illuminating the room enough for him to see its contents. He sat back in the large leather chair, and waited. He had been an Agent long enough to know how the game of revenge was played. Had even played it himself - although it hadn't helped him - and he knew what the next step would be. Nikolai had hit the minor players. He may not have finished the job, but he was hardly going to hang around to finish Jenny off first. No, he was going to come after him - the one he had wanted all along.

Gibbs knew that Nikolai would be keeping a close eye on his movements, and knew that it was only a matter of time before he traced him here. He had no concerns that the man would send hired goons after him. He would want to take care of the man responsible for Svetlana's death personally, inadvertently giving Gibbs the upper hand.

He shuffled in the chair, leaning back. His eyes glanced over the items lying on Decker's desk, stalling on the photo of him and Sasha. Gibbs sighed. Two lives gone. Unnecessarily snuffed out. It was at times like these that he felt plagued by death. So many people he knew gone in an instant.
His head snapped up as he heard the low, almost imperceptible creak of the front door. Gibbs drew his gun from his side, and levelled it at the doorway. Only a second passed until Nikolai stepped into the room.

The man in question merely raised an eyebrow at the gun currently pointed at him, and letting out a small chuckle he drawled, "not particularly happy to see me?"

"I wonder why," Gibbs replied. Sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Nikolai gave a small grunt of recognition, and made his way over to the drinks cabinet, pouring himself a large vodka. Seemingly unbothered by the gun still aimed at him. He took a gulp of the clear, burning liquid. "That business with Director Shepard was rather unfortunate. I heard she made it out alive," he remarked casually.

"Your men weren't quite up to scratch."

"Evidently," Nikolai muttered as he held out the decanter. "Drink?"

"I'll pass."

"You do not have to be quite so hostile Agent Gibbs. This is merely business. You and your team took something from me, and now you have to pay it back. With interest."

Gibbs's upper lip curled in disdain.

"Is that all she was to you? Business?"

Nikolai turned a hard look on him. "I do not like other people taking something from me. Svetlana was mine, and it was not your place to take her life. For that you must pay."

"And Agent Decker and Director Sheppard?"

"Were part of the effort that took her from me. Although I do admit to enjoying the slight irony where the lovely Director Sheppard was involved. As you Americans say, an eye for an eye. You took the woman I loved from me, and I had hoped to do the same to you. I would have enjoyed seeing the grief on your face. Enjoyed knowing you were going through the same torment that has plagued me for nine years."

Gibbs swallowed heavily. His gut clenched and his blood boiled as he heard Nikolai chat so casually about ending Jenny's life, but he refused to let it show. "Looks like you failed in that particular mission. "

"Yes." Nikolai gave a small nod, his hand reaching into his coat, languidly pulling out his own weapon of choice, resting the cold heavy metal in his hand, his finger flexing against the trigger. He looked up at Gibbs with what looked suspiciously like a smile playing across his face. "I suppose I will just have to go back and finish her off, I very much doubt that she'll be able to put up much of a fight second time around. And I'm sure that I will get the same satisfaction in telling her that her quest to save you failed miserably."

"You won't be going anywhere near her," Gibbs spat.

Nikolai raised his eyebrow in mock amusement. "In a few minutes you won't be in any position to stop me."

"Very sure of yourself."

"I am merely confident of my abilities. You have both failed. You failed to take me out in Paris, and you failed to save each other today."

"We're both still alive."

"Not for long." Nikolai raised his gun, smiling coldly.

The gunshot echoed throughout the room, cutting through the silence of the night. Nikolai's gun fell from his hand as he toppled backwards, his finger just a fraction too slow on the trigger. He hit the floor with a heavy thud. Gibbs pushed himself up from his chair, and kicked the gun on the floor out of the dying man's grasp. For a second he merely stood, watching Nikolai gasp his last, blood staining the carpet. Yet Gibbs couldn't find it in himself to feel remorse, his cold blue eyes met Nikolai's bulging eyes as he leaned over him and said, "never mistake arrogance for ability."

The first thing Jenny felt was pain. She hadn't even opened her eyes, but already she could feel that her entire body ached with a dull throb. She wondered if she was alive. She must be, she thought. Surely being dead wasn't this unpleasant. Her mind flickered back over the events in the diner, the four men and the sharp pain as the bullets tore through her flesh. But it wasn't that memory that stood out first and foremost in her mind. She had thought she had heard Jethro, felt his hand in hers. Desperate to see him, she forced her heavy lids open, struggling to focus in the dazzling whiteness that surrounded her. Eventually her eyes focussed although her vision was still blurred around the edges.

Her eyes trailed over the room and she heard someone shuffle in movement. Her voice didn't sound like her own, her mouth forming the word, "Jethro?" even if though no sound escaped her. She followed the movement in her room, and let out a small sigh of disappointment as she saw Mike move to the side of her bed, his eyes creased in a mixture of concern and relief. Biting back her disappointment, she croaked weakly, "Made it out then."

"Yeah, you had us going for a bit though."

"Wanted to keep you on your toes."

Mike gave a small chuckle. "Just don't do it again."

"That an order?"

"You bet it is."

Jenny managed a small smile, as tiredness tugged at her, pulling her back into its grasp. The constant beeping of the machines attached to her seemed to help lull her to sleep, although the disappointment that he wasn't there still lurked in the back of her mind.

Mike watched as she gave into the tiredness that pulled at her. Watched as her face settled into a faint frown as she drifted off. When he had first approached her, he had thought he saw her ask for Probie, but he couldn't be sure. That and he didn't want to tell her that he had been here but that he had left to finish the job she had started, it would just panic her and she was weak enough as it was. His eyes flickered over her features once more, taking in the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest before stepping back. He turned to look out the room's window, into the corridor, catching sight of McGee standing dutifully by the door, guarding its occupant. The older man gave a small smile. The young one was a damned good agent. He wondered if he would have let Jenny slip off the grid in the same way the other two Agents had. He somehow didn't think he would have. He was too cautious.

Mike sighed and moved back to his chair in the far corner of the room, his knees creaking as he sat down. He knew he was getting older, knew that he had made a lot of mistakes in his life that he couldn't reverse no matter how hard he tried, how hard he wished. He just hoped that Probie wouldn't follow in his footsteps. That he would take this chance for happiness. After all today had proven you never knew when any day was going to be your last.

Gibbs walked back into the hospital. The return had been a haze, and he remained lost in his own thoughts. As he reached the fourth floor, he saw Tony and Ziva sitting huddled together, the guilt over the night's events still evident in their features. He didn't acknowledge them. He didn't want to deal with them right now, and he couldn't absolve them. They were going to have to deal with this by themselves. As he approached Jenny's room he saw McGee standing guard outside. He tilted his head in way of a greeting, and McGee nodded back. Standing aside to let him through.

As he stepped inside he let out a small sigh of relief. Jenny had held on; was clearly still fighting. He met Mike's curious eyes, and managed to get in the first question. "How is she?"

"She's fine," Mike said as he got to his feet. "Woke up for a few minutes 'bout an hour ago. Think she was askin' for ya."

"You think?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow questionably.

"She was tired, wasn't very clear. Looked disappointed that it was just me here though."

"Well I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs declared firmly.

"Job done?"

"Yes. No more loose ends."

"The body?"

"Won't be a problem."

Mike nodded. Confident enough in Gibbs's abilities not to question him further about it. "What next?"

"You'll need to get out of here before Vance arrives."

Mike nodded knowingly. "Looks bad enough as it is." He slapped his hands off of his thighs. "Well I'm done here anyway, I trust I can leave Red in your capable hands." Mike gave an almost a tender smile in her direction, "You'll say my goodbyes?"

"Yeah."

"Take care of her, Probie. She's good for you."

He clapped Gibbs on the shoulder and the two men sharing a knowing smile. Mike's hand slipped down to his side, and with one last glance in Jenny's direction he headed towards the door. Slipping quickly and silently away.

Just ten minutes later, Jenny's door opened, and Acting Director Vance swept in. Gibbs didn't even bother to stand up, merely glancing over at him from his chair next to Jenny's bed.

Vance scowled at the small sign of disrespect. "William Decker's house burnt to the ground just over an hour ago. Looks like a gas explosion. Know anything about that?"

"Should I?" Gibbs asked mildly.

"Don't play coy with me, Gibbs. It doesn't suit you. We both know that there was someone bigger behind the shooting today. I saw the photos Director Shepard sent to Abby, I know who was behind this. What would happen if they were to look for human remains in that house?"

"They won't bother, you know that. They have no reason to."

"That isn't the point."

"It was sanctioned."

"Nine years ago," Vance hissed.

Gibbs shrugged. "Better late than never."

Vance snorted out a gush of air through his widely flaring nostrils, reminding Gibbs of an annoyed horse. He knew he'd been had, that there was no course of action he could take, so like any good politician, he changed the subject. "Director Sheppard's normal detail will be taking over from here."

"Fine. McGee needs a break anyway."

"And you and your team are to come back with me to D.C. immediately."

Gibbs shook his head. "No, my team can go back to D.C. I will be staying here."

"That was not a request, Agent Gibbs."

"Don't care. I'm staying here. Might as well quit while you're ahead Leon."

Vance bristled, his gaze flittering over the picture before him. The way Gibbs's concerned gaze never left Jenny for more than a few seconds at a time, the way his hand rested beside hers. For a second, Vance stood and considered his options. Dragging Gibbs back to D.C. would likely cause him no end of problems. It just wasn't worth the headache it would cause. So he gave a small nod.

"Fine, you can stay. I'll have your team write up the report." That said, he left the room.

Gibbs stayed where he was, his hand moving to encase Jenny's. All that was left now was wait for her to wake up so that he could finally bring things out into the open.

xxx