Thanks to my beta Kristen! Someone asked me a little while ago if Jenny was right handed, did this mean Lily was left handed? I stuttered a little, admitted I had let slip a few hints in earlier stories and promised all would be revealed. So here it is...

Chapter 21: Flaming Showdown

McGee had no idea what had just happened. All he knew was that the cathedral was in flames and his friends were inside.

It was obvious that Kort had expected a trap. He had come prepared to deal with anything they threw at him. Although the fires had only been burning for less than thirty seconds, the heat was immense. Smoke was starting to fill the area and it was difficult to breathe.

Nevertheless, McGee battled into the cathedral. He couldn't see a thing, but he was determined to help everyone out. Everyone except Kort.

He had heard a shot right after the flames had started. From his appointed place, he had been unable to see what had happened. Thankfully there had only been the one shot. At worst, it meant that one of his friends was dead. But everyone else was still alive and they needed to leave immediately.

The first person he ran into was the Director. From the speed at which she had appeared, he suspected she had already been traveling along the passageway before everything had gone wrong. She was clearly planning to go deeper into the smoke, but McGee pulled her back.

"You need to leave," he shouted at her. The noise of the fires made it difficult to hear anything. The smell of everything burning was starting to get to him too.

"Jethro," she shouted back. "He's still in here."

He shook his head, grabbing her arm and aiming for where he thought the door was. The smoke was disorientating. He wasn't even sure if he was heading further into the cathedral or not. All he could do was cross his fingers and hope.

He felt the Director catch his arm as well, although he did not know if it was to prevent them from becoming separated or to comfort one or both of them. It took him what felt like forever, although he suspected it was less than a minute, to find the main door and kick it open.

Beautiful fresh air filled his lungs. He made sure they were both safely outside before he turned to look at the chaos behind him.

The whole cathedral was in flames. Kort had clearly decided to make this game as deadly as possible. There was no way anyone could miss this. He suspected the fire department would be on the scene in minutes.

And it could very well be minutes too late. So far, they were the only ones outside. Everyone else was still somewhere inside. He made to go back in, but the Director caught his arm and shook her head.

"It's suicide," she warned, looking very much as though she wanted to run back inside to find Gibbs.

Barely a second later, someone came stumbling out of the smoke. They raced forward, catching whoever it was before they fell over.

McGee breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Gibbs. Together, they pulled him out of reach of the flames. He was coughing hard. Leaving the Director to deal with him, McGee looked back towards the cathedral.

Tony, Ziva, Lily and Kort were still inside the inferno.

Kort had been aiming low when he had shot at Lily. It was all Ziva David had processed. She had grabbed Tony's arm and shoved him behind a pew, yelping with surprise when he pulled her on top of him.

The whole place was in flames. Within seconds, the billowing smoke had rendered her unable to see anyone but Tony. And her first priority was to get him out of this mess. Nothing else mattered at that moment.

She pulled herself, and thus him, upright. It did not take her long to realize she had made a stupid mistake.

She had lost her sense of direction. The smell of burning and the smoke were confusing her. Her lungs were beginning to ache and all she could think about was getting out as soon as possible.

Tony grabbed her arm and shouted something at her, but she was unable to hear him. Instead, she allowed him to pull her in one direction. If he knew where they were going, that was fine by her. All she would do was make a random stab in the dark.

After a few steps, Tony stumbled to the floor and she followed, remembering that hot air rises. The smoke would rise, leaving the air nearer the floor the safest to breath. It would take them longer to get out, but it was their only hope.

Her mind slowly woke up and she realized how Tony had known which direction to head in. The pews faced the front and the nearest door was at the back. They were crawling right next to the pews, heading in a straight line. It would be trickier once they ended, but she was now determined to get out.

A gust of fresh air caught her off guard, until she realized that someone had kicked the front door down. Within seconds, the new supply of oxygen was fanning the flames. She had yet to come across anyone else in here and she wondered who had made it out. The fires were getting stronger and she kept going.

Tony collapsed onto the stone floor ahead of her. Rapidly, she crawled over to him.

"Wake up!" she screamed in his ear. "We are almost there!"

Although she could not hear his reply, she could guess it. He was tired and wanted to rest. But they could not; it would be the death of them both. They had to get outside.

She took hold of his left arm and began to drag him out. Their weight difference was not helping matters. She forced herself to continue pulling. Tony began to struggle slightly, but she ignored him. They were leaving this place together or staying here together. She would not leave him behind.

Finally, she found herself outside. McGee pounced on them in an instant, catching Tony's other arm and pulling him away from the blaze. Ziva gulped in the fresh air and was strangely pleased when Tony began to cough. He was still alive.

She looked around. Jenny was sitting up, Gibbs hovering over her. McGee was patting Tony's back and staring back at the cathedral.

Lily and Kort were still inside.

Lily felt the flames around her, but was more focused on something else.

Kort had deliberately shot her. She knew he was a good aim and knew why he had hit that particular part of her.

Blood was dripping down her shattered right hand. It ached and she tried her best to ignore it. The pain was intense. She was going to need a hospital after this, and she hated hospitals. She tried to move her fingers and choked down a scream at the pain. That hand wasn't going to help her.

He knew she was armed. And he thought she couldn't shoot at him if he took out her right hand. He was partly right; the pain was becoming unbearable. If she ever managed to find a way out of this, she wondered briefly if she would be able to regain full use of her hand.

Through the smoke, she could see him standing in front of her, waiting. She knew what he wanted her to do.

"Drop the gun," she shouted over the crackling of the flames.

He took a few steps back, watching her like a hawk. She was losing sight of him in the darkness. He held the gun out to one side. The second he dropped it, she pounced.

She tackled him to the ground, drawing back her left hand to punch him. He blocked her attack easily and attempted to grab her damaged right hand. Remaining on top of him, she used her legs to wedge him onto the ground before jabbing him in the ribs with her right elbow.

He winced, but caught her elbow and managed to flip her over. She wriggled, managed to kick him in his knee. Cursing that his body weight was preventing her from kicking him any higher, she twisted his right hand with her left, causing him to cry out.

Her body ached all over. The flames were continuing to rise, however much she tried to ignore them. The air was becoming more dense by the moment. She felt a gust of fresh air hit her back before the oxygen was sucked into the fire. Someone had got out.

She could only hope it was her sister.

This time, Kort came at her. He darted forwards, aiming an uppercut at her chin. She dodged it easily, using the momentum to kick his chest. He stumbled back slightly and she followed through with a left hook. It felt awkward; she needed the use of her right hand. But it wasn't as though she had a choice.

He tackled her before she could recover, crashing them both down onto the stone floor and smacking her head. She placed both her hands under his chin and pushed upwards with all her strength. He tried to dislodge her hands, but she refused to shift. She flipped them over and her eyes caught sight of something.

His gun.

She sprang up, moving as fast as she could. Snatching it up, she whirled around to face him.

He was on his feet, staring at her. Holding the gun in her left hand, she glared back.

He started to back away. "You don't have the dexterity to use that thing," he shouted.

She began to smile. "You're forgetting something," she yelled back. "I'm ambidextrous."

She pulled the trigger.