Cigars, bones, babies and Jimmy Blackhorse

by fictionalmike

AU: Lt Cdr Teresa Coulter first met Lt Cdr Harmon Rabb during "The Return of Jimmy Blackhorse". After the case, she invites him out for dinner and they find they have more in common than simply a love of cigars! That night, their lives intersect forever and the adventures begin, exploiting both their skillsets. Terri proves that marriage and kids with Harm do not impede her career.

14. Rescue and Recovery : Finding Faith

Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse. (Chapter/Phase 14 - part 24)

A/N: AU: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself". See Phase One of this story for the whole disclaimer A/N. Do please feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Feedback and comments are also welcome; I see plenty of followers and visitors to this story. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always helpful, invited and welcomed.

A/N: Ch 14; Terri, NCIS and the FBI home in to recover Faith Coleman - continuing the XO into "NCIS" territory. We rise from Faith's darkness at the end of Ch13 and bring her back to the light. Terri gets to excel both as an FBI agent and as an ME (and Harm's wife, and successful mom...)

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Phase Fourteen of "Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse" - "Rescue and Recovery"

TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR

Chapter 14 - Part 24 - "Rescue and Recovery".

Saturday 7th December 2002 - 04:56rs EST

Coal River Collieries site, Rumble, Boone County, WV 25009.

After accelerating hard following lift-off, the MV-22 Osprey ("flying its rivets off" to quote the aircraft commander) hogged 310MPH once it had transitioned from vertical lift into full forward flight and had dispatched the 390 miles from the Navy Yard in a little over one hour and 20 minutes, arriving on station at 04:55hrs. Terri had found the distinctive "double-beat" rhythm of the rotors strangely comforting during the flight, despite the protective ear-defenders built into her "cranial" helmet. The pressure of the head protection reinforced her earlier decision to pull her hair into a flat ponytail clipped together with a hair-slide before she had left the NCIS building to begin boarding.

Passing over Harrisonburg and the Shenandoah National Park, looking down on the darkness of the Monongahela National Forest, Terri reflected on the good fortune that had enabled Faith to get hold of a cell-phone to make contact with NCIS. Without this piece of luck, Terri had little doubt that, at some future date, she would have been carrying out an autopsy on the thawed-out frozen remains of the unfortunate Commander Faith Marie Coleman - and probably another pair of dead babies as well.

The higher airspeed of the Osprey meant that it was on station above the circle of police cars around the mineshaft in West Virginia far ahead of the FBI helo crew and their ETA. By comparison, the standard FBI helicopter was on track to hit an ETA on scene at 05:19hrs.

A pair of burning red road-flares marked the centre of the open space alongside the mineshaft, a little way apart from the flashing lights of the police vehicles. From 800 feet, the Osprey's external illuminations pack lit up three football-pitches-worth of real estate with light levels better than broad daylight, as the Osprey's drivers slowed their headlong cross-country dash, transitioned into vertical flight/hover, selected their ideal landing spot and eased down, settling the landing gear safely onto terra firma.

As the Rolls-Royce AE1107C engines of the Osprey wound down and the massive rotors ceased slapping the air around them, the silence in the West Virginia countryside was almost total, disturbed only by the low murmurings of the gathering teams of law enforcement, determined to save this captured Naval officer and bring her home. When instructed, Terri unbuckled her seat harness and stood up. She had already decided that, given a choice of hopping down the steps of the starboard door behind the cockpit or exiting via the tail ramp, she would choose to head aft, removing her cranial ready to hand to the crew member. Patting her hair back into shape, she decided that her choice of exit route had been correct - walking down the rear ramp of the Osprey was so much easier than hopping out of the side of a bog-standard helo.

She patted the airframe of the Osprey as she left. Noticing her gesture, the crew chief grinned at her; "Nice ride, thanks Chief; I have left my medical bags on the seats for later retrieval".

"My pleasure ma'am; we have picked up on a rumour about what you are doing here and hence the all-fired rush to get here from DC; go get our girl back, ma'am".

"Thanks Chief"; we may need you for the ride home".

"We'll be here and ready to serve, ma'am; I'll lay out the medevac stretcher and kit just in case, but will pray that we won't need it. There is a good Trauma Centre in Charleston - about ten miles away, northwest from here on the far side of the Kanawha River and the pilots have a route and landing ground already sorted, just one block from the ER entrance".

"Thanks Chief; it is good to know that you guys are prepared as we go in for the rescue".

As always, the various branches of military and law enforcement meshed together in a crisis, aiming for the best outcome of their combined mission.

Dawn would break at 07:01hrs, with sunrise around 07:30; this meant that infra-red scopes and image intensifiers would be the "kit of the day" for the next two hours. Fortunately Tim "techno-geek" McGee had brought his toy-box.

The first local law enforcement agents on the ground some time earlier had tried to stop, then opened fire at the tyres of, a speeding SUV as it tried to reach the shaft-head block, 100 yards away from the main office block of the abandoned mine. Breaking out the shotguns from the patrol vehicles (only in later years would law enforcement start to look like a branch of the military in terms of equipment and firepower), they then formed a cordon, illuminating the target building with the headlamps of their vehicles and hand-held torches. The illumination enabled them to keep the suspect corralled in the office block and separated from the shaft-head building, unable to access any other buildings on the sprawling abandoned site (and crucially unable to reach Faith in her prison). By the time that Terri, Gibbs and their colleagues touched down, there was a near-silence across the site but the air was heavy with expectation.

Up above in the distance, the muted roar of the USMC F/A-18 echoed across the site as it engaged in another circular sweep of the area, monitoring and transmitting the data back to Quantico and the Navy Yard - and thence to Tim McGee's laptop. The military technology of the "integrated battlefield" was paying back a civilian dividend this night.

Tim McGee also applied modern technology as he surveyed the site. He used a thermal imaging camera which quickly picked up two heat sources. One heat source looked like a pregnant female standing inside the building above the cold air of the mineshaft (protected by an outer structure above the mineshaft), while the other was crouching in the old office block next door (thus separated from the old office block by a patch of weed-strewn bare ground across which agents had a view and a clear field of fire) and looked to be male.

The steady beat of the rotors on the approaching FBI helicopter grew louder in the distance as it approached the LZ. Terri spoke up, her FBI windcheater reflecting in the low light.

"OK, listen up. Because this is an FBI jurisdiction show, I and my colleagues (when they arrive on that helo from Quantico) will take out the arsehole first; ideally, I want this bastard alive *if at all possible*, to answer for his crimes in court. My call-sign will be 'Doc One'; the other FBI Agents (when they arrive) will be numbered as 'HRT One', 'HRT Two' etc. After we have him detained, NCIS will please support HRT as they locate, extract and comfort Faith - go bring our Navy girl home but remember she will probably be fragile, traumatised and she could also be heavily pregnant with twins if this bastard has done his usual number on her as he has previously on at least 14 other defenceless women - all of whom he subsequently murdered. I can see the EMTs are ready, out on the edge of the restricted zone - be prepared to call them in once the area is declared safe".

In the background, the engine sound of the FBI helicopter was winding down. Jogging across to the LZ, Terri was glad that she had exercised hard since giving birth to David in the summer; her re-sculpted muscles were getting a good workout as she ran around the edge of the site to hook up with the FBI HRT members and agree the action plan. Halfway back, on her run from the HRT helo to rejoin the NCIS assets at the mineshaft, she pulled her cross out from beneath the ballistic vest.

She put her hands together around her cross and offered up a three-second prayer, then opened her eyes once more - they were cold, dark, hard and determined.

She knelt down alongside Gibbs: "OK, HRT is ready to roll. So, let's make one announcement first, to get Faith's attention - I reckon that she would prefer to hear a woman's voice" said Terri.

"Heck yes, Doc". Gibbs handed her the loud-hailer and she nodded her thanks before turning to face the buildings, some 100 yards away.

She picked up the microphone. "Faith Coleman, Faith Coleman, Commander Faith Coleman; this is Doctor Teresa Coulter-Rabb and the rest of the FBI together with an NCIS team" She looked at Gibbs and shrugged: "No harm in letting the arsehole know who he is up against, hey?" Gibbs nodded.

"Faith Coleman - we are here and outside and we have separated you from the bad guy, ready for NCIS to rescue you once we have the bad guy contained. But Faith, I need you to stand up and walk around so that we can confirm that it is you on the thermal imaging camera; please stand up and walk around now for our thermal cameras".

They watched Tim's screen; to their joy, the pregnant female image stood up, walked around and then sat down again.

"OK Faith, that was good; we watched you and we know exactly where you are; stay still and let us keep you safe please. We can now protect you and we have you physically separated from the bad guy, so hold fast Commander and just wait ten or so more minutes". Terri hoped that some of Faith's naval discipline would have remained in the tormented woman's mind. Jogging across from the second helicopter came the FBI team who would back up Terri in the raid on the building where the UNSUB was holed-up.

She looked at Gibbs: "OK, let's get this arsehole under control; he's British, right? So he will understand the expression "Cry havoc and unleash the hounds of hell".

McGee piped up: "Hmm, isn't it cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war, Doc?"

"Good point Tim. Well-remembered from your Shakespeare classes. Darn, I left the dogs behind." Terri smiled ruefully, easing the tension that she felt at being so close to rescuing the long-absent Faith Coleman.

Gibbs looked at her askance. "OK Doc, but how about tear gas, stun grenades and a couple of rounds through the roof instead?"

Terri shrugged, then smiled as she pointed at the mineshaft office block: "I like the way that you're thinking, Agent Gibbs and we have all of those here from the HRT helo - one step short of sending in the Marines! So yes, that would work too - let's wake him up properly and put him in fear, then make him keep his head down." She paused and turned her steady gaze once more upon Gibbs: "But please remember that you hit *HIS* building, not our Faith's!"

Gibbs smiled in the pale grey light of the headlamps behind them and nodded. "Doc, when it comes to opening fire, I am happy to give way to 'ladies first', so I shall follow you and your Desert Eagle".

"Why thank you, kind sir! It will take the FBI crew a while to bring me my standard-issue SIG, so I am glad that I came prepared".

It took five long, precious minutes to arrange the FBI team for the tear-gas strike and for everyone to take up positions, checking fields of fire to ensure that there was no risk of an embarrassing "Blue on Blue" situation. The lead member of the FBI team from the helo handed Terri a standard holstered P226 SIG-Sauer 9mm pistol and a throat-mike radio system on a webbing belt which bore four spare clips for the SIG.

Terri popped in her ear-piece and ran a radio check (hooking up with the rest of the FBI crew), buckled the webbing belt around her waist, then retrieved her Desert Eagle from its shoulder-holster with a wolfish grin. "I'm sticking to local initiative tonight - makes it easier to trace the rounds afterwards".

The lead agent from the HRT crew, a tall brunette carrying a sniper rifle, smiled at Terri's choice of weapon, "OK Boss, you're the senior agent on site; by the way we have cameras with us". Terri recalled, with a groan, that the post-9/11 media blitz to explain security to the great American Public (and explain *why* sometimes security considerations took precedence over "mah gawd-given freeedums under that Consteetyoooshun-thang") had resulted in the FBI bosses approving a number of camera-toting "ride-along" missions to explain the post-9/11 world to the American public. That night, the cameras had been at Quantico with the HRT when Terri's call came in, with the result that the camera team had been scrambled and uplifted with the HRT helo.

Terri swore under her breath and then carried on regardless. They crouched down, once more surveying the site in front of them as the five minutes counted down.

Finally, Terri stood up and waved at the FBI teargas team to get them ready. As senior FBI agent on site, the "honour" of first shot fell to her. She keyed her throat-mike to alert her team.

"This is Doc One; I have the first shot; HRT Two, be ready with the teargas on my mark, followed by stun grenades as the teargas shells enter the building - and hit the correct building please!".

Terri raised her Desert Eagle handgun and put two rounds through the upper windows of the former office block. It felt satisfying to be in action, after the ten-month search for Faith Coleman and the horrors of the repetitive autopsies on this madman's defenceless victims. She then put a round each through the ground floor windows, either side of the front door, aiming into the ceilings in each case and shattering the panes of glass. Her rounds were targeted at the cross-piece of the window frames, aiming to cover the UNSub in a shower of glass shards which would hopefully encourage him to keep his head down. She reasoned that only an really (un)lucky ricochet would hit the UNSub. She badly wanted this animal alive. She clicked on the safety catch on her Desert Eagle and surveyed the scene in front of her.

Crouched behind her, DiNozzo had counted Terri's outgoing rounds and thought quietly to himself "do I need to tell her she now has only three rounds left?"

Looking down at him as though she was reading his thoughts, Terri ejected the part-used magazine (leaving one live round chambered in the weapon), reached down beneath the hem of her skirt, produced another magazine that had been tucked into the top of her knee-length left boot, slammed the magazine home and smiled down at him as she clicked off the safety catch and concentrated on the building in front of her, absent-mindedly tucking the part-used magazine into the top of her right boot.

She looked back down at DiNozzo again and whispered "Old Tennessee cowgirl trick" as she resumed her watchful pose once more. Then she keyed her throat mike: "This is Doc One; Mark".

The distinctive "chuff" of the FBI teargas grenade launchers added to the cacophony of sound as they lobbed canisters through the broken windows. The noise faded away as the building filled up with white smoke and then began to bleed smoke into the outside air, where it rose almost-vertically in the light wind; fortunately everyone was carefully positioned upwind of the office block (apart from two snipers, wearing gas masks, who were situated high up above the rear of the building with the imminent light of dawn behind them, guarding against any escape by the UNSub). The stun grenades followed just five seconds later into each shattered window aperture, lighting up the inside rooms of the building in near-daylight briefly (and giving the ride-along camera crew several great shots for the resulting documentary).

Almost a minute passed, before - finally and to everyone's delight - the sound of coughing started inside the building. "Hmm, was that the extra-high strength stuff, I wonder?" mused Terri as she continued to watch the building.

"Oh dear, it sounds like he's choking"; Gibbs and Terri exchanged a "high-five" handclasp then aimed their weapons once more at the building, 100yards away across open ground.

The outcome was never in doubt and eventually the UNSub finally appeared, a pistol in his hand and with his eyes streaming; several voices spoke up, challenging him to drop the weapon. Instead he decided, for some inexplicable reason (in the post-mission wash-up session, they realised that the poor sod had been deafened by four exploding stun grenades in close proximity and couldn't hear very well!), to make Terri Coulter's day and he ran straight at her - the only identifiable female in his blurred field of view, because she was wearing a light-coloured skirt below her dark FBI windcheater.

With six FBI agents to choose from, he had decided to run at Terri. What a mistake to make!

Terri's smile grew wider as she released the safety catch on her weapon - later, Gibbs would be heard describing it as "this great big, cheerful shit-eating grin right across her face as though Christmas, her birthday and wedding anniversary presents had all come at once - until you focussed on her teeth and looked into her eyes to see her steely determination - which this idiot UNSub failed to do. He just ran straight at her, probably because she was a woman and he thought he could intimidate her; oh boy, was he wrong!"

"If he wants suicide by cop, he is going to be disappointed", Terri shouted, then continued: "OK folks, this bastard is MINE - DOC ONE has the shot" she shouted, raising her Desert Eagle in a stable, two-handed grip. Even then, the UNSub foolishly decided to continue running at Terri; she put her first round skilfully into his left foot bringing him to his knees; as he reached out for his dropped handgun with searchlights illuminating him, her second round removed his two outer fingers at the knuckles.

"Silly boy, tryin' to out-shoot a Tennessee girl" she chuckled as she closed the distance. Walking up to him with her weapon raised, she kicked his weapon far out of reach of his shattered hand and pressed him flat onto his back with the toe of her boot. She then she lifted her right leg and placed the three-inch block heel of her boot onto his chest, with the whole weight of a seriously pissed-off Terri Coulter-Rabb behind it; "I really wouldn't advise you to try any harder, sir - or try looking up my skirt, you pervert!"

"Why not 'off' him, Doc?" came a voice over Terri's shoulder.

Surrounded by armed FBI agents who were all pointing their weapons (of various calibres) at the UNSub on the ground, Terri applied the safety catch and holstered her Desert Eagle before replying, painfully conscious of the TV camera nearby.

"Because I carried out six autopsies and assisted in eight more, on women whom this arsehole had taken, tortured, impregnated, left in terror to swell for around six months and then killed. I have wasted almost a year of my life, lost a Christmas day with my husband and my child and had a pregnancy inconvenienced and my life disrupted because of this creep.

"So, ideally - as a woman - I would want him kicked to death every day for the rest of all time, then brought back to life at dawn to face it all over again. However, I am a realist and an FBI agent, who believes in the law and due process, so I shall settle for life imprisonment with the FBI probing him and examining him to see what makes him tick. He is going to become a prize exhibit for examination and study".

She paused before continuing.

"I cannot bring those 14 poor dead women back, despite spending almost two months of my life, bent over four autopsy tables at a time whilst I was three to five months pregnant. Although I learned everything about the shameful way in which they died, our society needs to try and learn from this pervert, so we should capture him alive".

She smiled once more: "Plus, if I did give in to temptation and 'off' him as you so descriptively phrased it, any ME worth his or her salt would be able to determine that this bastard was shot whilst lying flat on his back - and that would seriously damage my resume! So I cannot really shoot him, but... Oh screw it".

She leaned in slightly harder, applying all her weight through her boot heel and heard the satisfying 'snap" as a rib broke beneath her boot heel; the criminal in the ground beneath her screamed out in pain, then looked up into her eyes, fear etched into his face. That expression of fear was, Terri surmised, something he had triggered in every one of his victim, probably from the moment she woke up chained until the day that he had chosen to deliberately snuff out her life - and that of the twins that each woman had been carrying as part of his sick, twisted, shameful plot.

Looking down at the man beneath her heel, Terri realised that, by injecting his poison into the shaved spot on the back of each victim's neck, he had even avoided having to look into each woman's eyes as her life had expired; this man was a coward.

She looked down into his fearful eyes; "It's a shame that you don't have enough ribs to atone for the total number of your innocent victims and their entirely blameless foetuses".

She lifted her foot and stepped back, staggering slightly as her heel landed on a pebble beneath her. Terri swayed but stayed upright; Gibbs caught her, smiled and said loudly "Hey Doc, watch it - this pervert must have bust a rib when he fell on that stone before; shame that you caught that same spot with your heel when you stumbled" as he smiled, nodding into the dark in the direction of the TV cameras.

"Oh yes, a great shame - thanks for that diagnosis Gibbs", Terri replied, smiling as she turned her back on the criminal as her FBI colleagues closed into formally take him into custody. She turned to the NCIS team, and nodded to Gibbs as he leaned down to brush away the grit which had transferred from her boot-heel onto the captive UNSub's jacket.

She turned once more to address the agents who were eagerly awaiting her signal.

"Right team, let's go rescue a very brave naval lady: I'll watch you from the command tent. Once more, her name is Commander Faith Coleman and please remember that she may be quite badly traumatised - so, at the first sign of her flinching from a man, would all gentlemen please hold back, turn back and allow the female agents in the first wave of the breaching team to take point, please".

She paused; "In fact - on second thoughts, it would be preferable for us ladies exclusively to help our kidnapped heroine - that is just the way things are tonight - OK gentlemen?".

Nods and grunts of male agreement filled the night-time air. Terri was glad to have a large gang backing her up; but "bagging" the UNSub at first strike had significantly improved the likelihood of a successful outcome to all of the night's endeavours. It was time to move in and rescue Faith.

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"Commander Faith Coleman - we are here, the bad guy is in custody and we are coming in to rescue you".

Entering the other building (and rapidly shooting or cutting their way through three separate locked doors), the rescue teams were guided by Tim McGee's thermal imaging directions; they quickly located and reassured a heavily-pregnant Faith Coleman as they announced themselves to her. She was dirty, dishevelled and still shackled; although the bolt cutters (which the breaching team had brought with them) quickly released her neck and arms from the chains, the welded collar and the solid wrist-cuffs would take longer. With a rapidly closing bruised eye from her last encounter with her angry captor (presumably over the cell-phone incident earlier that night), Faith's one good eye looked at the incoming team as she blinked at the light of the doorway.

In the FBI Command Post tent - which had been set up by the FBI helo crew as the breaching teams went in - Terri watched the body-cam footage.

The FBI team were trialling newer HD camera technology - apart from sharper images, the cameras transmitted the individual FBI agent's identity on each frame. The open door offered a promise of a glimpse of the searchlights outside, as Terri watched her agents walk into Faith's version of Hell - the site was still awaiting the low winter sunlight of dawn.

As "agent 03" moved into Faith's room, Terri asked the Comms team leader to instruct that agent to give a view of the floor, ahead and left. Leaning in towards the video screen, Terri noticed the shattered remains of a cell-phone - she offered up a quick prayer of thanks as she watched the female EMTs gathering around Faith as the FBI team took up safety positions around the room - merely a precaution, literally, but SOP after breaching an UNSub's lair and a necessary precaution given the importance of keeping Faith secure and safe from further harm.

The EMTs worked on Faith Coleman for almost an hour before they agreed to start bringing her out. They had checked her thoroughly, examining her body, checking her pregnancy (no-one mentioned the word "twins" to her at that stage) and attending to the cuts on her feet and the recent impact to her face, before getting her ready to be brought out towards the waiting ambulance - and her friends who had been awaiting her return for almost a year. Loaded with evidence bags, the FBI evidence techs began sweeping the room, gathering up the shattered components of the cell-phone which had summoned help and which had almost certainly saved Faith's life.

Gibbs walked back across the site to Terri's Command Tent and smiled at her: "Hell of a way to commemorate Pearl Harbour, hey Doc?"

"Yeah Gibbs, helluva *great* way"...

Saturday 7th December 2002 - 07:16rs EST

Coal River Collieries site, Rumble, Boone County, WV 25009.

Someone had loaned Faith a pair of combat boots and laced them up, to protect the soles of her feet as she was supported on her walk out of hell. An NCIS hooded sweater had been handed to her and she had pulled it on over the white nightdress which hid her nakedness. The open outer door led Faith towards the cold grey light of dawn as Terri left the FBI command tent and walked steadily towards Faith's version of Hell - the site was still awaiting the low winter sunlight as the EMT ambulance rolled forward. With a badly-bruised eye limiting her field of vision, Faith's one good eye sought out Teresa as she blinked, owlishly, at the electric light in the doorway and the high-mounted flood-lights which had been erected by the local agencies as they continued to arrive onsite.

Terri walked over towards Faith with her arms open wide; the two women met halfway. Faith flung her arms around Teresa and kissed her, then began to weep; the crescendo built to a climax and then suddenly Faith let rip with a full-blooded, anguished howl - releasing much of her pent-up anger, fear and frustration - before she slumped, spent and over-wrought, into Terri's arms; Terri beckoned over the EMT techs who had been standing by in case of a relapse once Faith had reached the fresh air for the first time in around 10 months. The air temperature probably wasn't helping either, Terri surmised.

Eyes full of happy tears, she looked up at Gibbs as she continued to support Faith as the EMTs gathered. "This is a good day, Gibbs - isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded, with a great big happy grin of satisfaction. "Oh yeah, Doc lady, this is gonna be a *very* good day. Plus, you now know - for sure - that you will be able to present all of that detailed evidence in a court of law, which is what you do well and what we know will bring justice for all that bastard's victims along with closure for their families". His grin broke into a full-beam smile: "So yeah, Doc, this is a *very* good day".

Peering into the grey light of dawn, Terri looked around at the landscape surrounding the mineshaft.

"Gibbs; I almost hesitate to suggest this, but as we are here and it is his wild-country lair, should we get cadaver dogs and ground-penetrating radar out here - just to be certain and get closure?"

He nodded. "Actually Doc, those were also my thoughts exactly although this is - technically - your FBI operation ('Doc One') with an NCIS joint-op tacked on for good measure because we had a lost Naval Lady to locate and recover. Look Doc, if you go with Commander Coleman to the hospital and you please concentrate on her (because I am sure she will benefit from seeing a continuing familiar face amongst all these well-meaning strangers), I'll liaise with your FBI HRT colleagues to get a mines rescue team up here, to check out the mine-shaft as well".

He patted her shoulder and whispered in her ear: "Doc, you go and tend to the living on this resurrection morning; we have this site under control".

Terri reached up her hand and patted Gibbs on the wrist gratefully, acknowledging the wisdom of the older agent's suggestion. How did the world produce such great men like Leroy Jethro Gibbs, she wondered to herself before turning so that she could re-start concentrating once more on Faith Coleman.

Gibbs strode off to make the arrangements, whilst Terri trudged slowly across to where Faith was now being looked after by the EMTs on the step of the ambulance. She held back, allowing the EMTs to do their job; she was pleased to note that someone had thoughtfully provided Faith with an aluminium survival blanket which she now gripped around her shoulders.

She held back, until the EMT finished checking Faith again with the better equipment (and lighting) in the EMS ambulance, looked across to Terri and raised her thumb; Terri quickly stepped forward.

As Terri approached, Faith looked up at her; the tears were beginning to wash away the grime. Terri realised, perhaps for the first time, that Faith Coleman had a strong face and was quite an attractive woman despite the swelling bruise which was rapidly impeding and reducing the vision out of one eye. Faith's Navy id photograph didn't really do her justice, but that had been the only picture (apart from blurred CCTV stills) which Terri had possessed during the long search for Faith; Faith had jealously guarded her privacy before her abduction, which had made the task of finding photographs for the search very difficult. Faith's hair had also grown significantly longer during her ten-month captivity.

Terri stretched out her right hand to shake hands; Faith's wrist still had the cuff welded around her arm. Faith was hugging her swollen stomach with her left hand; Terri placed a comforting hand over Faith's hand and nodded at Faith's stomach.

"I was in that condition a year ago with my second pregnancy; I guess your customary slim shape is feeling seriously out of balance with your twins at this stage?" Terri said comfortingly.

Faith's face collapsed into another expression of terror and disgust: "TWINS? How in the hell do you know that?" Realisation suddenly dawned and she slumped slightly. "Oh God, it really *was* UNSub94, wasn't it?"

Terri nodded: Faith's face crumbled and she sat bolt upright, hands apart and looking in terror at her swollen belly. "I could have ended three lives back in that hell-hole!"

Faith slowly slumped onto Terri's shoulder, weeping. "How in the hell can I hate these innocent lives inside me, but by the same token how can I bring them into this world to remind me every day of what was done to me and how I had absolutely *no* control over it?" She pulled her hair back from her face and looked at Terri's long blonde hair, neatly gathered back with a barrette at her neck. Suddenly she smiled - a rare flash of the old Faith Coleman.

"I don't suppose that you have a spare hair grip, do you Doctor? I feel a need to look a little more feminine".

Terri jumped at the chance to assist Faith in regaining a little bit more of her control over the world around her - distancing the terrified female JAG officer from the memories of what had been done to her - and restoring some basic femininity. It was also clear to Terri, just on the basis of the first few minutes, that Faith was going to need long-term and extensive help to get over this experience. Maybe, her OCD would be an even bigger barrier than was the case for other kidnap victims after their rescue; Faith's routine-based, well-ordered life had been completely turned upside down. She sighed - only time (and the right professional help) would tell.

"Better than that, Faith, I have a hair brush and a spare barrette. Agent Barnes, kindly go over to that Osprey and retrieve my briefcase and medical bag from the Crew Chief - I left them together on the right-hand seats, halfway along the fuselage, with a small teddy-bear attached to the handle; thank you. Well, Faith - I really want to call you Faith, because we have been looking for you for a really long time. Would that be OK?"

Faith nodded, weakly. Terri hugged her again.

"Thank you. OK, come on, Faith. Come on, scoot around a bit and I'll brush your hair for you - then you can see in the mirror; would that be OK for you?" Faith nodded slowly: Terri looked enquiringly at the female EMT who had been carrying out the preliminary survivor check on Faith. The EMT smiled warmly and vacated the step, allowing Faith to shuffle round to allow Terri to brush her hair once the brush had arrived. They didn't have to wait very long - Agent Barnes was back with Terri's bags within five minutes.

Faith nodded slightly; Terri set to work and, within five minutes, Faith was sporting a new hairstyle which swept her hair (which Terri noted was a lot more uncontrolled than when Faith had been snatched way back in February) into a stylish (and potentially military-approved) pony-tail style.

Terri chose not to mention the shaved patch which she had found on the back of Faith's neck - she had felt it when she hugged Faith - then had shuddered quietly; this had been too damn' close to disaster, finding Faith so late. Clearly, the UNSub had been preparing Faith for slaughter. Wow, they had been so lucky to find her today!

Faith looked in the hand-held mirror of Terri's powder compact, winced at the bruising, then smiled at the impromptu hairstyle. "I love it - thanks for the barrette, which I definitely *will* get back to you in due course".

Terri patted her hand, inadvertently touching the "wedding" ring. She realised that, above all else, it was Faith's feeling of loss of control that was probably proving to be most upsetting to the rescued female JAG at the moment. Other concerns would undoubtedly be added to the list in the days and weeks to come. For now, Faith had just one more question for Terri.

"Terri, who will look after my babies when they are born? Will I have recovered enough to look after them, do you think?"

"Yes Faith, that is a question for tomorrow. Now, I know a good team who will support you and all I can say, today, is: take it day-by-day. But I will, if you want, be with you every day when I visit you whilst you recover; I'll make that commitment, although other, better-qualified, professionals are going to appear in your lives as we step back to give them room - be we shall be around and I promise we'll always be available. However please, from now onwards to the end of our days, I want you to call me Terri whenever we speak".

Faith reached out to Terri, then noticed the wedding ring on her outstretched left hand. She looked down at it, splaying her fingers to look at it. "I began to call it my 'slave band', because I woke up with this in place on my finger one day during my captivity and I cannot get the damn' thing off. That's another thing that bastard stole from me - I don't remember the honeymoon after the wedding!" even through her tears, Faith managed a smile. Terri hugged her carefully, kissing the top of Faith's head to comfort the tormented rescued kidnap victim.

Terri realised that there was a warmth and humour in the freckled face before her, which had never been evident in the formal, official pictures of the buttoned-down ("buttoned-up as well", thought Terri) Naval JAG officer before she had been taken by UNSub94. Maybe, just maybe, the true spirit of Faith would re-emerge, butterfly-like, following the appalling experience. That was certainly Terri's aim and intent - and Vera McCool's team of psychologists would play a major part in that process.

Terri sighed quietly to herself as she watched Faith's tense body slowly unwind. Whichever way you looked at it, Faith Coleman was going to need a *lot* of help as she recovered from this hellish experience; Terri was determined to ensure that Faith received all of that help.

"Well, Faith; it's not impossible that your fingers are swollen because of the pregnancy - I certainly felt my rings were slightly more snug when I was carrying Ellen during the first pregnancy".

Faith's eyes suddenly went wide and she looked at Terri's slim, trim, stomach inside the ballistic vest. "Oh Terri, I must have missed the birth of your second whilst I've been in the bunker. How did everything go?"

Grateful that Faith was beginning to think (even for a short time) about normal day-to-day things unconnected to her long captivity, Terri began to explain about their new son, backing up the distraction with a small album of photographs of David from her briefcase which Agent Barnes of her team had retrieved from the Osprey. The two women sat on the step of the ambulance for a while, completely and blissfully unaware of the investigation activities which were going on around them.

Eventually, Faith gave a big sigh, looked out at the building which had imprisoned her for too long and then stared, once more, at her baby-swollen stomach. Terri could read her mind all too easily. She patted Faith's hand; "Come on Faith, I reckon I know a great divorce lawyer." She hugged Faith close, but then Faith's tears started again.

In all the commotion and movement, Terri's small cross had worked its way up to the front of her sweater and out over the front of her ballistic vest, nestling just above the "B" of "FBI". Faith's finger reached out for the cross. Terri was the only person close enough to hear when Faith whispered: "I said a prayer last night, so thank you God" and burst once more into tears.

At that precise moment, the first beam of the morning sunlight fell upon the two women seated on the step of the ambulance. As Terri held her and comforted her, Faith slipped down slightly to rest her head under Terri's chin, her right hand hugging Terri's arm and her left (displaying her captor's "wedding" ring and the cruel iron cuff on her wrist) touching the cross outside Terri's armoured vest.

As it turned out, that was the "money shot" for the female news photographer who had sneaked through police lines dressed as an EMT. In future years, the photograph (admittedly without its tacky "Rescued from Hell: the imprisoned pregnant Naval officer is recovered by FBI doctor" caption which would flood around the world in the next 24 hours and complicate Faith's life even further) would stand in the long-term body of human-interest pictures (alongside, for example, the picture of the Oklahoma City fireman Chris Fields carrying the dead baby Baylee Almon in the aftermath of the April 1995 bombing of the Alfred P Murragh building in Oklahoma City).

The image of the tall, blonde, female FBI agent comforting the terrified released captive broke hearts and sold newspapers for a long time afterwards. Copies were expanded and framed in Harm's office at Falls Church, Terri's team coffee room inside the FBI HQ - and, eventually, in Faith's study inside her home (hidden behind the door, yet acknowledging what she had gone through in 2002). Ultimately, it would appear in a tableau of photographs at Faith's wedding, many years in the future after she had learned to trust people - and one particularly wonderful, caring, patient, loving and lovable man - once more.

The photograph, judiciously cropped, also appeared in several gun magazines. These picked up the ammunition clip tucked into the top of Terri's boot and the SIG in the holster at her hip, with captions like "Armed and fabulous" and "Tennessee target practice at Boot camp". None of these did any harm to Terri's standing within the Bureau, which experienced an increase in career enquiries, from young women, asking how they could "join up and do what Dr Coulter-Rabb does". Harm arranged for a copy of *that* magazine cover to be framed for his study.

Once again, Harmon Rabb jr would be very, very proud of his Tennessee Tiger. He knew that, almost five years previously in Arizona, the right woman had selected him to be her mate for life. Even though he had initially resisted her "charms" that first day in the laboratory, it was clear that Teresa Ellen Coulter had been the girl for him - and he revelled in that knowledge that FBI Agent Doctor Teresa Ellen Coulter-Rabb would be his partner through life.

The Rabb family ring was "in good hands", he would joke to himself as he reviewed the large print of the photograph of his wife which was gaining global publicity.

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Saturday 7th December 2002 - 09:56hrs EST

CAMC General Hospital, 501 Morris St, Charleston, WV 25301, USA.

During the rescue, the Marine Osprey crew had conferred with the FBI helo crew as they confirmed the logistics of the hospital run.

The rooftop helipad of the hospital might not support the weight of the larger Osprey, so the decision was made to use the FBI helicopter to transfer Faith on the short run to the Regional Trauma Centre, with the Osprey transporting the displaced FBI agents. One member of the TV documentary camera crew had begged her spot on the FBI helo, accompanying Faith and capturing the drama of the flight from her mineshaft prison. Ground transportation met the Osprey at its landing ground to transfer the FBI agents speedily into the hospital. The Osprey, despite flying a roundabout route to Charleston to allow the FBI helicopter an arrow-straight run to the hospital, landed first and enabled the FBI agents on board to get out and across to the hospital quickly; they were inside the ER ready to greet and protect Faith and her escorts before she had fully descended in the elevator from the rooftop helipad.

With an FBI helicopter occupying the rooftop helipad and a USMC MV-22 Osprey parked across the road in the Appalachian Power Park baseball ground, along with police units guarding the entrances, it was clear to the citizens of Charleston that something serious was going on as the city awoke on the Saturday morning. Fortunately, CAMC General Hospital is home to the highest level Trauma Centre, ensuring that Faith Coleman received the best level of attention within minutes of transferring from the rooftop helipad into the ER. Other critical-care patients received the same level of trauma care as they arrived.

The presence of six armed FBI agents, with a number of NCIS agents in support, cordoning off part of the ER, soon gave a clue as to what was under way.

Faith was checked over thoroughly and pronounced "dehydrated but in remarkably good shape for her stage of pregnancy". Paediatricians checked over her babies and cleared the expectant mother and babies for the longer flight back to the Washington DC area. An ambulance later transferred her from the ER entrance on Washington and Brooks, along Lewis Street to the baseball ground, where it was planned that the MV-22 would continue its CASEVAC role and would fly her, with an NCIS escort, Terri and one other FBI agent for continuity of the evidence chain, over to Maryland.

Faith, although she was slowly recovering her self-assurance following the rescue, had insisted that Terri accompany her on the flight to Bethesda; Terri was happy to accede to Faith's request. She updated Harm by phone before boarding the Osprey for the onward flight east. Throughout the flight, Faith kept one hand linked to Terri at all times. Gibbs contacted the NCIS HQ CP to arrange for someone to run Terri's car across to Bethesda - it seemed a sensible professional courtesy to the FBI ME who had impressed Gibbs during the planning and rescue. Gibbs realised ruefully that he still had his own car keys in his trouser pocket - this Doctor Coulter-Rabb just seemed to plan ahead better, whatever she was doing, he told himself. Gibbs had seriously considered that Terri Coulter-Rabb would have made a darn' good Marine.

The FBI agents continued to deal with the captured UNSub, once his wounds had been attended to. He had been transported to hospital under guard in the Osprey. Although one of the FBI agents had retrieved the unsub's severed fingers and preserved them in the drinks-cooler ice-box in their helicopter, the vascular surgeon in the Trauma Centre had declared them beyond redemption and commenced work to tidy up the impact wounds cause by the second of Terri's two bullets which she had fired at the UNSub. The wound to his foot - caused by Terri's first bullet - was dealt with quite quickly and his foot was plastered to aid recovery. The heavy plaster cast also had the additional benefit of impeding the UNSub's potential attempts to escape!

The FBI retained custody of the prisoner as he recovered and was processed in the Charleston ER, then arranged for his transfer, via Yeager Airport, to the Secure Ward of a hospital in DC - on a site miles away from the Bethesda complex in Maryland where Faith was transferred to start her recovery. He entered "the system" and would be arraigned when he was able to stand.

When his first Public Defender lawyer (who happened to be female) arrived, he rejected the woman and asked for a male lawyer; this "preference" ended up being "leaked" to an distinctly unsympathetic Press corps.

Saturday 7th December 2002 - 18:36hrs EST

The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,

33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC

Harm had spent the day playing with Ellen (who was beginning to realise the disadvantages of Christmas and birthdays taking place seven days apart, and so was preparing her separate fourth-birthday wish-list for Daddy and Mommy) and looking after young David who was about to hit the six-month mark. He knew that Terri would make contact when she could, following her brief update phone-call at coffee time from Charleston to let him know that Faith was safe and was being transferred to Bethesda and that Terri would be accompanying the rescued JAG lawyer.

It was not until the early evening that Terri was able to make a further phone call as she drove home from Bethesda. She was pleased to find out that her journey home had been facilitated by NCIS. A considerate NCIS agent had collected her car keys from the Marines at the CP and had driven her Suburban across to Bethesda from NCIS HQ during the day. She had thanked Gibbs for his foresight, as this enabled her to make the simple four-mile drive home to Forest Hills once Faith had settled in to her room at Bethesda and had fallen asleep as the sedatives took effect. The two parents agreed on a take-away order, which Harm subsequently phoned in whilst Terri completed her journey home.

On arrival, Terri hugged Harm; he looked surprised as he realised that she was still wearing her body armour under her FBI jacket. He stepped back, giving her space to head into the study; there, she systematically checked her weapons, making them safe and securing them in the weapons safe as she removed her jacket, shoulder-holster, webbing belt with SIG, ballistic vest and the spare ammunition clips from her boot-tops. The spare HRT equipment would go back to FBI HQ on Monday morning for re-allocation, whilst she would set time aside later to clean the weapon which she had used and then reload the spare clips after settling her children into bed during the coming evening.

The takeaway arrived, so Terri and Harm settled down to their delayed evening meal as they discussed the events of the day. Afterwards, Harm uncovered Terri's legs and gave her a ten-minute foot massage on the sofa in their lounge. As she relaxed, Terri thought back to how resilient Faith Coleman had been.

"I tell you Harm, she is a remarkable woman; she has stayed alive through ten months of almost complete isolation, a significant amount of sensory deprivation and the slow discovery that she is pregnant without remembering the impregnation. I tell you, if that had happened to me, I would be seriously spooked! Yet she takes it in her stride. She was itching to get out of the Osprey when we landed at Bethesda".

Harm smiled: "An Osprey - that must have saved you some time across the country?"

Terri nodded; "yes, and the speed over the ground was an added advantage to the vertical take-off flexibility".

Harm continued: "I remember a case in about '01, when Bobbi Latham was trying to kill the Osprey programme - the US Marine Corps fought tooth and nail to get it funded past the inevitable initial teething troubles, because they could see the potential of the rotor-craft design. I reckon that tonight is definitely a plus-one for the Osprey programme".

"Yes indeed Harm - and it was so smooth, a well as beating the pants off the HRT helo; the FBI HRT was significantly slower to arrive on-site than I was with NCIS in the MV-22; Gibbs was itching to get into action".

Terri paused, then continued her previous line of conversation: "But Harm, although she impressed me, I am worried about Faith. Taking everything into account, with the joy of liberation, she does seem subdued however and I fear that her spirit may have been broken - so much has happened which is entirely in conflict with her OCD and she has had no control over events. So, there is a lot of therapy in the future for our Faith, I reckon".

Harm kissed her gently on the crown of her head. "But the good thing, darling, is that she has us!"

"Yes, that's true, Tomcat; thanks for minding the babies today".

"No problem - what Daddy wouldn't want to spend time with his daughter and his son, whilst his wonderful, special, super-capable wife is off battling the bad guys and rescuing damsels in distress?"

Terri slapped his arm playfully then kissed him. "OK, I'm gonna run a bath - would you care to join me, darling husband?"

"Lead on, darling Teresa; lead on".

Fortunately, there were no more calls that weekend to the FBI Duty ME; the next morning, Terri and Harm managed a lie-in before enjoying a dedicated Sunday with their two children.

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** END of "Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse" phase 14 - "Rescue and Recovery" (Part 24)