Chapter 25: BROKEN WING
"Who are you really?"
Her eyes glistened as the question Gibbs had asked her at the cabin came to mind.
Are you a friend? She enquired of herself while her gaze shifted towards the window. Or are you a foe?
The air altered, turned distant as cries of help broke through in intervals. Rapid machine gun fire resonated like firecrackers, buildings and flesh absorbing slugs as they raided the surroundings.
"There's nothing you could've done, Captain. You followed orders."
The fact was – in that terrifying moment she could've done something to save the village. She'd seen past the shroud of her team. Realized their intentions. Predicted their brutal nature. But instead of reporting her suspicions, she'd cowered, hid behind a Humvee and feigned shock. She was complacent, responsible in committing mass murder.
Her hands were stained with the deaths of innocent lives. And the worst part was, at Yuma she'd looked the kingpin in the eye and feigned ignorance yet again. He had been before them. And he had them and for the sake of following orders, she had to move on, allow Gibbs to learn her secret in his own way.
But he hated games, even more so lying. This she had to learn the hard way and what he did after waking would determine if he advanced forward over this hitch as if it never were. Wipe the slate clean and focus on justice no matter what he felt towards her. However, his track record with people didn't fly so well. Either he dumped the plan because of what the kingpin had said and done. Or he would accept the event as part of the job, work with her and say goodbye at the end.
The loyalty built had crumbled. Trust they had forged, now it was ruined. Or was it?
She marked the wind shuffle the branches of the tree outside before she gazed over at the sleeping Agent.
The heart monitor thrummed at its normal rhythm. The saline bag supplied the necessary fluids via the IV dip. Everything seemed okay, but beneath those eyelids fluttered a nightmare. Something instigated by her negligence, by her mistrust and secrecy. He deserved more than this charade. More than life was throwing at him in this moment. He deserved truth and not the constant veil she held up in pretence.
"You were tasked to spy on your old unit and prevent further damage. Which is why Major Hatcher's your problem, Colonel. And yours alone."
"And all I'm asking for is a marker, General. I'm facing a cul-de-sac, and Agent Gibbs is the only person capable to break it apart. I need his help."
He gazed at her, narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. "It's a personal request, something you've had in mind for quite a while. I chose to disregard it, but your persistence is presently at a point where it is dang infuriating."
She shrugged. "One of the reasons you selected me. That and the powers at be decided I was the only individual capable to keep track of this problem. I have, with your permission, liberty to choose whom I see fit to conclude this matter. I have done so. I want Special Agents Gibbs to bring Major Hatcher in."
General Iris rubbed at his chin as he thought meticulously over the request.
"Like honey to a bear, Colonel Higginson. You are to appeal to his interest, and yet like a viper you are to conceal your involvement. Taint your identity. Lie, cheat, manipulate. I don't care what the hell you do, so long as the true nature of this operation stays classified."
"That's fine by me, Sir. Anything to close this once and for all."
She didn't sound very convincing, thus he rose to his feet and joined her at the other side of his desk. His blue eyes bored hers for a moment or two before he instructed one last time.
"Gibbs will be a diversion to get you closer to your former C.O. The perfect riddle for him to solve. Which means, you are his enemy. His guide and nothing more. What is more, thanks to Vance's involuntary cooperation and discretion, our team will provide support when I see fit, not the other way around. Don't get personally involved, that's an order and it's final, Colonel."
'Don't get personally involved'. A rule even Gibbs struggled to follow and now she'd done the very thing her Commander said not to do. She'd let her guard down for the sake of building trust, ordered the team to interfere, and forgot the deceptive nature of the enemy. The kingpin had shattered her tower of lies by using what came naturally to him. Now everything hanged on what Gibbs decided.
"Well done, my fellow combatant. You've broken my wing and done well to expose the masquerade, just like you promised you would."
Loud thudding beat in his ears, followed by the eerie sensation of something cold slithering beneath the skin of his hand. He felt terrible, like a tornado had swept him up and plummeted his body somewhere in the wilderness and had left him there to die.
Every muscle soaked in displeasure and aching arthritis pain. It was horrible, and he wished sleep could shield him for a little while longer. But alas it was not to be and he opened his eyes to a sharp gleam. An outline of a woman filtered through the confusion, then a fierce growl spilled from his lips.
"Get out."
The person startled with the harsh command. Remained quiet as she gazed at him stunned.
The scowl which furrowed her brow was unmistakeable, but he could care less. He didn't want her there. He needed a kind, familiar face to look at without being reminded of the excruciating agony he endured at the mercy of a mass murderer.
"Go. Now. Get Agent McGee. And you stay out."
His demands came in curt bursts of snarled anger and she absorbed them with a humble countenance and quick obedience. Left the room without further deliberation.
He loathed the fact that she understood his suffering, even more so, the disappointment of being lied to, still. It was clear, stung and prevented proper momentum.
She was kryptonite both to him and to the kingpin. Furthermore, she was a black widow to this case and yet he couldn't help his parental instinct to take care of her. And so it was vice versa. That notion hurt the most. She had betrayed him, again and again. To what end? For what purpose? She had known the kingpin – all this time.
"Are you okay, Gibbs?" Tim asked as he stood beside his bed. "The doctor said it would take at least another three hours before you're back to normal."
"Why ask if you know the answer?"
Tim looked at him bewildered. "Ah, perhaps a courtesy."
Gibbs smirked at the safe reply. "I want you to run two names for me, McGee. Colonel Leslie Higginson and Major Tori Hatcher."
Tim scowled, particularly puzzled about the last name, but was determined to follow through on the task. The veteran marked the recognition and continued with his instructions.
"Use MTAC. Be discreet. Hack the Pentagon for all I care. I want to know everything about their past missions whether classified or not. Director Vance, he knows more than he is permitted to say. There's a reason why he teamed the two of us together. And especially after what's happened, he'll play ball. He owes me."
Gibbs swallowed against the discomfort and fatigue crawling over his frame. McGee nodded, hesitated, then stated his findings.
"I think I know what you're after." He stopped as the veteran closed his eyes fleetingly. "Nick mentioned gaps in the kingpin's timeline. So I searched for similar pauses in the other suspects' past lives."
"You found the second thread."
He nodded. "Ms Tait, Miguel and Nigel were military, but their records were sealed. Made to look as if they had falsified the info and not the military. It's something the higher ups would do to veil their Black Ops endeavours."
"They were six soldiers. With Jeandré dead, there's five left."
"Tori and the kingpin served together?"
"He was their C.O." Gibbs replied with a soft, anger-laced tone.
"Any ideas on who the fifth soldier might be?"
Gibbs frowned in frustration. Tim took that as a maybe and waited on him to initiate further conversation.
"Enough focus on the players. Concentrate on the two names. It will unfold as you go along. Assign whoever as you see fit. You have three hours."
"Yes, boss."
"Who brought me in?"
The Agent gazed at his expression, curious as to how he knew his team arrived late to the scene.
"A short African-American woman and a man that could be from Mexico. They refused to give their names to the staff at hand. Plus, they knew how to avoid the cameras."
"Don't bother, I know who they are."
"Part of the Major's team."
"That's Colonel, McGee. She's not Tori Hatcher."
Recognition flashed on his countenance. "I see. I should . . ." He thumbed over his shoulder reluctant to leave his friend and leader behind.
"Go Tim, and . . . be careful."
"We will. What about the Colonel?"
A few seconds of silence had engulfed the atmosphere before he murmured a reply. "She has her instruction. She stays where she is."
He dipped his chin in lieu of a verbal reply, turned to leave when he recalled a pertinent detail.
"Abby's on her way."
A smirk lined the veteran's lips at the prospect of the Goth scientist storming in all riled and worried.
"I'd like that, thank you."
The cafeteria was quiet and vacant. Only the whispering noises of the evening shift and serving staff buzzed in the air. Fresh coffee hung like fog as its smell and that of scrumptious muffins and scones drifted towards the corner where she sat.
Leslie placed her elbows on her knees, clasped her hands together, then looked at her boots. She was famished, the baking goodies a delightful attraction to soothe her grumbling stomach, but she ignored the need.
A sombre mood settled over her, mind quarrelling against the decisions of the last few weeks. The what ifs were the strongest debate of them all. After that, came the images of where she could've changed the thread of events, rescued Danny and prevented the attack on Gibbs. Somehow, it came back to one thing. Major Hatcher had levelled the playing field between her and the veteran. Only the mission remained. The enemy their sole goal before life followed its course.
A pair of black shoes entered her view, then fingers flicked the crown of her head. Gibbs cleared his throat.
Slowly she lifted her chin and gazed at him with a neutral expression. Then she noted his countenance and a chill swept over her frame.
"You're coming with me."
"Thought as . . ."
He halted the statement with a raised finger. "Not a word, Colonel."
Leslie flinched, grimaced as she stood to her feet.
Hatcher had done more than just level the field; he'd shifted the focus to her. In the present circumstances, nothing prevented Gibbs' team from delving into their past and unravelling the red tape that kept it firm in place. Moreover, General Iris and the cooperation of NCIS' Director were naught in this instance. She was a spy alone, pinned against a bear and a wolf.
"There once was a girl who lived an innocent life, filled with wonder and delight. Everything she did stemmed from a joyous flame nothing could snuff, and how sweet it was. That flame grew brighter and brighter until a tragic death doused its light."
"You should get out of your past and stay in the present, Colonel. Nothing there can help you."
Gibbs opened the passenger's door for her, next walked for the driver's side.
"She soon realized the darkness was too enticing. It consumed her joy, compassion and any honest emotion a human retained inside their soul. She'd embraced a life of blood, war, hatred and greed."
"You're caught in a realm ruled by ghosts and memories. Decide what your endgame is before it consumes you and you regret the consequences."
Leslie stared at him over the top of the Dodge. A deep furrow ran along her brow.
He's coaxing me. Why? He should be lashing out. Or perhaps he knows one significant detail.
"Leslie Higginson's just as guilty as her unit. She may have turned but she deserves dishonourable discharge and not the medal you bestowed her."
The car doors slammed shut in tandem.
"Valour is recognized by those who had followed the same clandestine journey. For the evidence gathered and the execution of said duty, she's a soldier worth honouring."
Then why did I feel like a Judas? I betrayed my team's trust to salvage my career.
"You did a lot more than you think." Gibbs declared whilst he directed the vehicle towards the exit.
The retort repeated as if a raindrop on a tin roof for the remainder of the journey and continued until they entered his house.
He steered her towards the kitchen table, dragged a chair out for her to sit, and took hold of the one across from her. Somehow, it seemed familiar, except this time a table separated their staring contest.
"Punish, shield, lure." Gibbs recited; each word etched with a finger.
Those three fingers he balled up into a fist and slammed the table in frustration. The action reverberated in her chest, jerked her to the present.
"Those were the guidelines."
"And your instructions were the same issued to me fifteen years ago."
Gibbs canted his head. His eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"
"Don't." She shook her head, then laughter filled the kitchen. "Give me more credit, Gibbs. I can see when someone's hands are tied, when they see betrayal as the only feasible outcome. It's how the game works. It's how it always works. Betray who betrayest you, who betrayest me."
His jaw tightened, lips pursed, eyes glinted with age-old wisdom. A light flickered in his mind, then he leaned forward, grabbed her hands and gripped them firmly.
"I . . . forgive you."
She scowled at the unusual behaviour, but a thought struck and her furrowed brow relaxed at the revelation.
"You know what happened. That means Special Agent McGee completed his assigned task."
He let go, propped his arms in surrender while he leaned back. Leslie inspected his countenance with deep consideration. He lowered them, expression unreadable.
"It's okay, I understand." She stood. "I've accepted my fate. You've chosen yours. It's inevitable I get it."
Glancing between him and the front door, she further stated. "Just remember, I'm not Kate or Ziva. Neither am I your daughter."
With that, she sprinted from his presence, vanished into the darkness to the sound of a lone gunshot and then all was quiet.