Thanks for the reviews everyone. Still got a little ways to go - lots of threads to pull together yet, but we are getting to the end.

Chapter 21

Wednesday,

Near the Rabb-McGinley house

Falls Church, VA

2210 Local

Frankie Delgado carefully looked around before climbing out of his car and slinging a knapsack over his shoulder. He'd been by the neighborhood yesterday, sizing up his target. He'd also carried a sheaf of bogus flyers about a missing cat. Whenever some housewife or retiree stared at him suspiciously, he'd walk over and ask about the cat. It was the perfect cover. Once he explained about his frantic wife and poor, missing Fluffy, nobody cared if he looked around their homes or into their yards. No one seemed to notice that those particular houses and yards gave him different views of the Rabb place. He'd been back earlier today and not only did almost everyone ignore him, but the few that did pay attention actually waved and wished him luck.

Strolling down the sidewalk, occasionally shining a flashlight under cars for appearance sake, he worked his way to the Rabb property. As soon as he was safely hidden in the shadows of the trees, he hurried along the fence line. This would be one of his more elaborate fires. He'd rigged up timers to his firebombs so they could all detonate at once. His employer had specified that nothing was to be left standing. He'd also specified that there be no survivors. Frankie had nearly balked at that but the amount of money offered had been too good. Reaching a point where he could approach the house unseen, he slid through the fence and scurried to the edge of the tree line.

He froze for a moment while looking at the cars and swore under his breath. A third car - with government plates? Who the hell was here? How they find out? He stayed crouched in the shadows while he considered what to do. He didn't want to push his luck and come back yet again. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way anyone could know what he was planning. Frankie was a professional, he didn't boast about jobs after a few beers. If anything, he took his money and relocated. He hadn't done that over the last two jobs but was definitely planning to after this one. Deaths always made the cops a bit more intense and there was no sense in being complacent. He looked at the house again and made his decision. In the scheme of things, what was another body or two? Keeping low and staying in the shadows, he made his way to the barn. He'd set up his devices in the outbuildings first and finish at the house. It would keep the chance of discovery to a minimum and he'd be able to detonate almost as soon as he placed the last one.

Moving cautiously to the barn doors, he frowned at the padlock. He could break it easily enough but those big sliding doors would be rattling noisily while he did. He continued to the corner. There had to be a smaller access door somewhere. Every barn had one. Frankie smiled as he slid around the far side, there it was. It was padlocked as well but as with many barns, the door opened outward and he could get to the hinges. A few minutes with a power screwdriver and the hinges were off. Carefully pivoting the door open around the hasp and lock, he leaned it against the barn wall and stepped inside. Pulling out a tiny flashlight, he took a quick look around and smiled. The barn had to be a hundred years old, the wood would go up in seconds.

Moving past a row of old stalls, Frankie stepped out into the main aisle, unslinging his knapsack. Holding the flashlight in his teeth, he crouched down and removed one of his devices and a phillips screwdriver. Placing it against the base of a stall, he attached the wires to the timer and tightened the screws. Straightening up, he looked around again and frowned thoughtfully at the tractor. There should be a fuel can nearby. That would help the fire catch even faster. Frankie had taken a couple of steps in that direction when he heard a growl. Spinning, he caught sight of a shape just before teeth sank into his calf. Eyes bulging from the pain, he kept his jaws clamped shut as he reached down and grabbed fur, trying to pull the dog off. The teeth shifted and fastened on his wrist. Gasping, Frankie brought his other fist down as hard as he could on the dog's head. The pain in his wrist flared for a second before the dog's jaws relaxed as it collapsed on the floor. Swearing quietly, he gave the dog a vicious kick, sending it spinning away.

A flashlight beam caught him square in the eyes, blinding him as a man's voice ordered him to freeze.

Bringing up his bleeding wrist to shield his eyes, Frankie started whining, "Hey, c'mon, your dog's vicious, man. It tried to kill me! I was just lookin' for a place to sleep tonight."

A man moved further into the barn and Frankie was dismayed to see he was holding a gun. He tried for a note of indignant outrage, "What's with the gun? Man, you're as crazy as that dog. I wasn't hurtin' anything. I just wanted a roof over my head. You can't shoot me for that." He turned and cowered a little, shielding the view as his other hand slid to his back pocket and pulled out the screwdriver.

"Who are you?" The man was edging to the side, obviously concerned about his dog. He stepped into a patch of faint illumination seeping in from the outside lights and Frankie's gaze narrowed. This was O'Hara.

"Name's Paco, man. Dude, I'm bleeding here. I need a doctor bad. Just call the cops already, okay?" Frankie shifted slowly, gauging the distance. "Man, that dog better not be having rabies or nothing." The dog chose that moment to whimper and O'Hara glanced down. Frankie launched himself, diving at the older man as he swung the screwdriver wildly. He barely made it, crashing into O'Hara right at the knees, knocking the man backwards and through the boards of an old stall. Cursing at the flaring pain from the dog bites, Frankie scrambled up and froze for a split second when he finally located the screwdriver. It was buried halfway into the old man's leg. Grinning at his luck, Frankie climbed forward over the groaning man, intent on the gun. Once he had that, he'd have control again. He'd torch the barn and get the hell out. He'd figure something else out later for the rest of the place.

Casting anxiously about, he finally spotted it and limped over to pick it up. As he bent down, the gun slid out of his reach. Frankie swore and followed, reaching again. Once more the gun moved and Frankie growled in anger. What the hell? He straightened up, looking around the barn. "Whoever you are, get out here where I can see you." Nothing moved and Frankie hurried back to O'Hara. Grabbing the screwdriver, he yanked it out, ignoring the older man's anguished cry. Gritting his teeth at his own increasing pain, he grabbed O'Hara's collar and twisted it tight. Grunting with the effort, he yanked upwards and shoved the tip of the bloody screwdriver against the man's neck. Frankie looked out across the barn again, "Come out now, or he's dead."

A moment later, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. A figure was coalescing in front of him, fiery white flames slowly outlining a woman. "Madre de dios," he breathed, his grip loosening on O'Hara's collar. It suddenly sped towards him and Frankie yelped in terror as he threw himself backwards. A force hit him in the chest, lifting him up off the floor and smashing him against the wall of the barn. Gasping, he found himself pinned there, several feet up. Nearly hysterical in fear, his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head as he fainted. A moment later, he dropped to the floor.

Kate stared at the man, still furious. She turned to look at Phin, "Can you keep an eye on him? I need to get Gibbs."

Phin nodded slowly, "You have to teach me that."

"Sure, but for now, if he moves at all, drop something heavy on his head." Kate turned towards the house and vanished.

o o o o o

Wednesday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

2330 Local

Ziva David threaded her way through the police, firefighters and various sundry personnel that typically littered crime scenes. This one had a few extra in the form of FBI agents, headed by Tobias Fornell. She shook her head. Gibbs had finally told the team about Bacovia and what Don Eppes had told him. Fornell would no doubt have a few words for Eppes although she could understand the LA agent's reasoning. No one but Gibbs and his famous gut would have taken the man so seriously with so little to go on. She headed for the ambulance that had yet to leave with Matthew O'Hara, certain she would find her boss somewhere nearby. Walking up, she could hear the sounds of an argument.

Matt scowled at the EMT, "I don't need a hospital. Bandage me up and let me go."

"Sir, that's a puncture wound. You'll need some stitches, a tetanus shot and antibiotics. I can't do that here." The young man eyed O'Hara, adding, "You need x-rays, too. You might have broken or cracked something going through those boards."

"Go, O'Hara. No one's saying they're going to admit you. You can be back in a couple of hours. We'll keep an eye on things," Gibbs stood nearby, his arms folded. He glanced at Ziva as she walked up and raised an eyebrow. She stopped a few feet away and turned a little away. Gibbs looked at the EMT, "Take him." When Matt started to protest, Gibbs cut him off, "I'll send DiNozzo to bring you back." He turned to Ziva, keeping his voice down, "What?"

"Our suspect is awake but I think he has ratted his brain," Ziva glanced around, keeping her voice down.

Gibbs smothered a smile. David was working hard to master American idioms. Some were more successful than others. "What's he saying?"

"That he was attacked by a demon of some sort," Ziva snorted. "Maybe he meant the dog."

Gibbs gave her an enigmatic grin, "I don't think it was a demon. Where's McGee?"

Ziva frowned. She hated it when he got cryptic. "He's in the house with the girl and Fornell."

"Has he identified this guy yet?" Gibbs turned towards the house.

Ziva fell in alongside, "Not yet. He is obviously an arsonist. The knapsack we found had incendiaries with timers. One had already been placed in the barn. There was enough to burn everything here to the ground."

"So that's the plan," Gibbs commented as he climbed the front steps.

"You think whoever hired this man will try again?" Ziva raised an eyebrow. With the plot uncovered and authorities alerted, she didn't think they would risk another attempt.

"I don't think they have a choice," Gibbs walked into the house. Pausing for a moment, he listened for the voices and headed down the hallway to the kitchen. He couldn't help glancing around as he walked. Earlier, something or someone, had grabbed his collar and yanked him towards the kitchen door. He'd realized that something was wrong but once he was outside, he'd been at a loss on where to go. That lasted until he was shoved towards the barn. Gibbs knew how to take a hint.

He walked into the kitchen with Ziva behind him. McGee was sitting at the kitchen table while Mattie was sitting on the floor with Patch's head in her lap. The dog rolled an eye at Gibbs and nestled her head a little more firmly, prompting more petting. Gibbs rolled an eye right back and grinned. The dog had done herself proud but he could tell she was milking the sympathy for as long as she could. He noticed a black and white cat sitting nearby with ears flicked sideways and decided he wasn't the only one who had that opinion.

"O'Hara off to the hospital?" Fornell asked from where he was leaning against a counter.

Gibbs nodded, "For now, DiNozzo will bring him back." He looked at Mattie and gestured to Ziva, "Officer David will spend the rest of the night here." Gibbs glanced back at Fornell, raising an eyebrow. He knew the agent was biting his tongue, "What?"

Fornell lifted his chin a little, "Let's take a walk." He headed out the kitchen door and Gibbs followed. Once outside, Fornell turned around and put his hands on hips, tipping his head to the side, "What the hell happened here?"

Gibbs folded his arms and shrugged, "You mean besides catching one of the bad guys?"

"I mean your perp's going out of here in a straitjacket. I don't think he came in that way. Is there anything I need to know?"

"Crime doesn't pay?" Gibbs looked at the FBI agent with a straight face, only the barest hint of amusement in his eyes.

Fornell rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Jethro, what the hell happened in that barn? Did you know this place has a reputation for being haunted?" The agent raised his hands in exasperation.

"Are you saying you think he was caught by a ghost?" Now Gibbs was grinning.

"No," Fornell replied testily, "But I don't think O'Hara caught him either." They stared at each in silence for a few seconds before Fornell huffed, shoving his hands in his coat pockets, "You want to tell me why you decided to drop in tonight? Eppes didn't have anything more than a vague theory."

"More than a theory now," Gibbs retorted, suddenly serious. "You heard about Bacovia?"

"Yeah," Fornell sighed. "I'd hate to be those two's insurance carrier. Have you heard anything new?"

"Ziva's put the word out to her contacts in Interpol. All they've come up with so far is to confirm that Bacovia's locked up tighter than a drum. Those people are pissed. What about you?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Only that Ian Edgerton has a warrant for Trask's arrest and he's headed over there." Fornell grinned at the look on Gibbs' face, "You know him? I hear he's one of the top snipers in the world."

"Fifth," Gibbs countered, "Yeah, I know him." His phone rang just then and he pulled it out, scowling when he saw the ID. Flipping it open, he growled, "What, McGee?" Dammit, he'd only been outside for five minutes. Gibbs' eyebrows rose a moment later, "Be right there." He started for the house.

Fornell shook his head before hurrying to catch up, "What's going on?" It was beginning to feel like the question of the day.

"Bureaucrats," Gibbs threw over his shoulder as he pulled open the back porch screen door. He walked into the kitchen and stopped, taking in the scene. There was a man backed up against the kitchen wall with Ziva standing in front, glaring at him. Mattie was still on the floor, hugging the dog and looking like she was thinking about crying.

McGee was standing between the two. His relief was evident when he saw Gibbs, "Boss, this is Officer Connelly with Animal Control. He wants to take the dog."

"That dog is a stray that attacked and bit somebody. I have to take it to the Shelter for quarantine and evaluation. It's the law," Connelly sounded caught between indignation and fear.

"The dog did what she was supposed to - she protected the property and this family," Ziva growled back. She glared over her shoulder at Gibbs, "She should not be punished for this. It's outrageous."

"It's not - ," Connelly closed his mouth with a snap as Ziva turned back to him. He turned a desperate look towards Gibbs, "Call her off."

Gibbs exhaled softly, "Officer Da-vid."

Ziva reluctantly backed up. When Gibbs drew her name out like that, he expected obedience. She folded her arms, "It is not right."

Connelly huffed, straightening out his uniform with indignant little jerks, "I should file a complaint. I don't have to put up with this sort of behavior." He pulled a leash out of his pocket and gestured to Mattie, "Give me the dog."

"She can't." Everyone in the room turned to look at Fornell. He stared defiantly back, "The dog's evidence in a possible terrorism case. FBI trumps Animal Control."

"Are you serious?" Connelly stared as Fornell nodded, "Man, you're crazier than the psycho chick." He jumped backwards and yelped when he hit the kitchen wall as Ziva spun towards him again.

"You should leave," Gibbs stated quietly. "Now." Connelly looked like he was thinking about arguing until Gibbs took a half-step towards him. Wilting, the Animal Control officer pivoted and hurried out of the kitchen. Gibbs turned to McGee, "Make sure he leaves."

"You got it, Boss," McGee walked out as well.

"Thank you, Agent Fornell," Mattie finally spoke up. She glanced around the room, sniffling a little, "Thanks, everyone."

Fornell gave the teenager a kind smile, "Don't mention it." His smile became more of a grin as he tipped his head to side, "Just make sure you take good care of my 'evidence'." He turned back to Gibbs, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." With that, he walked out, following the same path that Connelly and McGee took.

Mattie watched him leave before turning to look at Gibbs and Ziva, "You think they're going to try again, don't you?"

Gibbs hesitated for a moment, "Yeah, I think they will." He raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't mean they're going to succeed."

"I don't want to leave," Mattie lifted her chin. "This is our home. I won't abandon it."

"Okay," Gibbs nodded solemnly, hiding a grin. Mattie was doing a credible imitation of Rabb. The three of them turned when McGee walked back into the kitchen. Gibbs frowned, "McGee?"

Tim McGee opened his mouth as he looked over at Gibbs and paused. After a few seconds, he closed it again, "Umm, nothing, Boss. Connelly's gone." He sat down at the kitchen table, looking at his laptop. It was still scanning through the facial recognition. He stared blankly at the screen while going over what he'd just seen. Connelly had gotten a bit braver and a lot angrier, the further he'd gotten from Ziva and Gibbs, his muttering diatribe becoming louder and more offensive. Tim hadn't reacted. The guy had been humiliated, he was entitled to blow off steam.

They'd been almost to the foyer when Connelly had made a particularly crude comment. The temperature in the hallway suddenly plunged and Connelly had stumbled forward like he'd been shoved. Regaining his footing, he'd spun angrily towards Tim only to abruptly stagger backwards. Another unseen shove had him bouncing into the wall beside the front door. By then, Connelly's eyes were wide with fear. Tim stood with his mouth open as the door slowly opened on its own. The Animal Control officer hadn't wasted any time and bolted through as soon as he could fit. The door slammed shut right after.

Standing stock still, Tim had blinked a couple of times as his eyes darted about the foyer. Finally, he'd offered a tentative 'thank you' and nearly leapt out of his skin when he heard a whispery 'Don't mention it, McGee' in return. Fornell had walked by next and given him an amused smile while sauntering past, asking, "What's the matter, McGee? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Tim gave himself a mental shake, forcing himself back to the present and concentrating on his laptop again. He kept telling himself he'd been imagining things but deep down, he knew he wasn't. He'd recognized that whispering voice. It was Kate Todd.

o o o o o

Thursday,

On the trail to the Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

0820 Local

Harm accepted a bowl of food from the little man, somewhat surprised that they were bothering to feed him at all. They'd stopped twenty minutes ago to eat and rest. The bearded bastard in charge hadn't appeared all that happy about it but Harm was more than grateful for the break. He frowned worriedly as he watched the man put the other bowl on the ground next to Carol. She'd barely acknowledged either the man or the food as she sat huddled in on herself. Gritting his teeth, Harm slowly edged a little closer to her. Glancing around again, he leaned in, speaking softly, "You need to eat." He felt a sharp pang when she flinched away. Had that son of a bitch truly raped her? He didn't know how to help. He leaned in again, his voice even softer, "I'm sorry." His worry increased ten-fold when she finally glanced at him. Her face was bruised and swollen, a testament to the brutal treatment she'd received, but it was the hopelessness in her eyes that really did it. Harm looked down at the ground, carefully containing his rage and fear. Finally, he checked their surroundings again, making sure no one was close enough to hear. He ducked his head, "Please. You have to hang on. Mac's coming."

Her eyes widened for just a moment before she deflated again, shaking her head. "You don't know that," she replied tonelessly.

Harm looked over his shoulder again before turning back. "Yes, I do," he whispered fiercely. "She's getting closer all the time. Trust me. We have to hold on." She stared at him for a few seconds when her eyes widened in fear and her face paled. Tensing, Harm turned to see Gregor stalking towards them.

"Get away from each other. No talking!" Gregor snarled. Damn Timur - he had no more sense than a rock at times. Gregor wanted the Americans cowed and demoralized. That meant keeping them separate. He turned his glare to MacKenzie, feeling somewhat mollified as she frantically moved away from her husband. He folded his arms, leering at her, "Perhaps another lesson?" The stark fear on her face was supremely satisfying. Rabb, on the other hand, looked like he was contemplating murder. It was tempting to take the woman right now in front of JAG officer, to drive home the man's helplessness but Gregor was afraid it would backfire. He'd been awake for over twenty-four hours and it would be humiliating to start something he couldn't finish. That didn't mean there weren't other options. Turning away from MacKenzie, Gregor took a casual step towards Rabb and lashed out with his foot, catching the leg with the bad knee. The man collapsed with a guttural groan, curling on his side. Smiling now, Gregor walked back towards the fire and picked up a bedroll. Spreading it out, he looked at the wrangler, "One hour, no more."

Josef grunted sourly in acknowledgement, watching as the bully and his toady dropped off to sleep. He didn't have much use for the man but he'd accepted the money and it did put food on the table. There were very few who could do what he did - travel the Bymer Pass and live to tell about it. Josef had lived in the shadow of the Pass all his life as had all his family. It was dangerous but there were ways to survive. Getting up, he moved to check his horses. They were the real reason he'd been hired in the first place. The bully wasn't interested in Josef's family history and Josef didn't much feel like enlightening him. He skirted past the prisoners, steadfastly ignoring them. He didn't like how they were being treated - only cowards beat defenseless women - but he had no say and it wasn't any of his business. Murmuring softly, he moved along the picket line, patting necks, checking backs and running his hands down their legs.

"The bay has a stone, off back."

Josef turned and looked at the woman in surprise. Moving to the bay, he picked up the right hindleg to check the hoof and his eyebrows rose. Sliding a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a hoofpick and pried out the stone. Carefully checking to make sure there'd been no bruising, he put the hoof down and regarded the woman with new-found interest. "You know horses?" he rumbled softly.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Grew up with them," she answered finally.

He nodded thoughtfully. It had been apparent from the beginning that she was comfortable on horseback even after suffering the trauma of the bully having his way with her. He ducked his head at the memory, uncomfortable now that he'd ignored what was going on. There really wasn't anything he could have done but perhaps he should have protested anyway. "You should rest," he stated gruffly. "We will be moving again soon."

The woman shrugged listlessly and Josef felt the weight of guilt increase. There was another brief silence before the woman commented, "Good bone, you raise them?"

Josef couldn't helping smiling a little with pride as he nodded, patting the chestnut on the shoulder, "And my father before me and his father before him." Before the wrangler knew it, he and the woman were quietly discussing temperament, performance and conformation. All too soon, Josef squinted up at the sun and sighed, "It is almost time to wake the bully." He shifted uncomfortably at the fear that filled the woman's face. "I am sorry for this. When the man hired me and my horses, I did not know."

Carol shook her head, as despair and dread crept back in. For these past few minutes, there'd almost been a feeling of normalcy. The contrast cut through her like a knife. Never in her life had she been in such constant pain and terror. She was drowning in guilt and shame. She'd been overwhelmed in a tidal wave of vacant, visceral pleasure that had dissolved into horror when she realized he'd molested her and she'd enjoyed it. She had betrayed herself, her husband and her family. When she could breathe again and the dizziness vanished completely, the horror had increased ten-fold. She knew it would happen again and that she'd be unable to control herself. Never in her life had Carol wished so fervently for death. She looked up at the sound of Josef's voice.

He was stroking the neck of the bay Harm had been on, "I will put you on Gavrill this time. He is the best of the best. Smart, fearless, sure-footed as a cat, you will enjoy riding him." He stared at her intently for a long moment before turning and walking back to the fire.

From his position nearby, Harm watched Carol through half-closed eyes. He could just hear the soft conversation in Russian. While he didn't understand what they were saying, it was fairly obvious they were discussing horses. That was fine by him. Anything that took her mind off their situation. He was deeply worried about her mental state. She was a strong woman but nothing could have prepared her for what she'd had to endure. She had to hang on. He hadn't merely been trying to bolster her spirits - Mac was on her way and he knew she wouldn't be alone. He still had no idea what was behind this and that was another source of worry. Harm shifted and winced. Something was broken in there and the constant pain was wearing him down. When Mac and the troops finally arrived, there wouldn't be much he'd be able to do to help.