Ziva gasped when she saw Elle. Blood drenched her clothes, but she was awake and fighting the oxygen mask.

"Where's Tim?" she wanted to know, her voice faint. "He got shot, too."

"Gibbs is with him now. You'll be able to see him soon," Ziva told her, feeling tears come to her dark eyes. It scared her to see her friend looking weak.

"Is she going to be okay?" Tony asked the medics, putting his hand comfortingly on Ziva's arm as he did so. He could see how upset she was.

"She's lost a lot of blood, but once we get the bullets out and the wounds clean, she should be okay," they replied. "We need to get her to the hospital right away.

"Which hospital?" Ziva demanded to know.

"Georgetown University," they replied, lifting Elle's stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

Gibbs met them back at the car. "According to McGee, Lt. Rogers' father is the one who shot them. How's Elle?"

"They said that she's lost a lot of blood, but she'll be all right," Ziva replied, folding her hands across her chest in an effort to maintain her composure.

"We need to get to the hospital. Tony, call Abby. Ziva, call Ducky. I'll call Leon. We've got to come up with a plan."

"What if we fake Probie's death?" Tony suggested as Gibbs followed the ambulance to the hospital. "I've seen that done before."

Ziva turned around in the front seat to give Tony a sharp glance. "Really?" Her voice was full of disbelief.

"Well, it seems a lot more cool in the movies," he admitted.

"Good idea, DiNozzo," Gibbs said suddenly. "I like it."

"Uh...Boss, are you sure?" Tony seemed uncertain of his plan now. "I was only kidding."

"I was at Lt. Rogers' funeral. His father seemed to think she was the killer coming to say goodbye to her victim. If he's the one who shot them, then McGee's funeral might draw him out."

"It just might work," Ziva agreed, shaking her head as a small smile spread across her face.

"So, what do we tell everyone that McGee loved? We'll need some real grief at that funeral," Tony pointed out.

"I'll have McGee call his parents and sister to explain what's going on," Gibbs decided. "Ziva, call Abby, Ducky, and the Director—tell them what we're doing. Tony, you're going to tell Elle that McGee is dead. I don't want to risk her faking it at the funeral."

"Boss, I really don't like telling people that the person they loved is dead, especially not when they really aren't dead," Tony objected, squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

Gibbs looked at Tony in the rearview mirror and immediately, DiNozzo began to sing a different tune.

When the three of them arrived at the hospital, Ziva went to make her phone calls while Gibbs went to talk to McGee and Tony to Elle.

McGee was lying on a bed in the ER, letting the doctor examine his wounds.

"How's he doing?" Gibbs asked the doctor.

"I removed the one bullet that was lodged in between Agent McGee's ribs. The gunshot wound sustained to his shoulder fractured his collarbone, but that should heal in a couple of months. He lost some blood, but he should be fine in a day or two."

Gibbs nodded, appreciating a doctor who didn't give him too many medical terms. "I'd like a minute alone, if you don't mind."

The doctor shook his head and picked up his chart. "Not a problem. I'll be in the next room if you need me."

"Boss, how's Elle doing?" Tim wanted to know anxiously. "She was bleeding, so I know she was hit."

"I spoke to a nurse on my way in. She said that the wounds weren't life-threatening, and that Elle should be fine after a day or so, just like you," Gibbs told him.

McGee let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he breathed. Then, he looked back at Gibbs. "We have to get Rogers, Boss. He looked us both in the eye and shot us. He wanted to kill us both."

"McGee, I'm handling this, just like I told you I would. But, you may have to go stay with Tony for a couple of days till this all blows over."

"Till what blows over?"

"We're going to tell the media that an NCIS agent died tonight in what appears to have been a random mugging. Ziva's calling the Director right now to get the go ahead. I thought you might want to call your parents and sister, to let them know."

"Is someone telling Elle?" McGee wanted to know. His main concern was for the woman he loved so dearly.

"We're telling her what we're telling the news. Hopefully, at the funeral, Rogers will show up and then we can arrest him."

"Have you even tried going to his house and arresting him?" McGee asked, looking incredulous. "Somehow this all sounds like one of Tony's ideas."

"Maybe it is, McGee," Gibbs replied shortly. "Just trust me, okay?"

Tim, exhausted and in pain, leaned back against the pillows. "All right, Boss. Whatever you say."

When Tony got into the room where Elle was being treated, he immediately saw the ring on her left hand where McGee had no doubt placed it moments before they were gunned down. Her face was pale and her right shoulder was already bandaged up. The dress she had been wearing had been cut by the ER staff, it appeared.

"Hey, Tony," she greeted him softly, trying to smile bravely.

"How're you doing, Elle?" he replied, trying not to think about what he was fixing to have to do. It was one thing to tell someone that the person they loved the most was dead, but when that person really wasn't dead...it just seemed cruel to him.

"The doctor said I'll live," she replied, laughing a little and then wincing.

Something in Tony's eyes told me that everything wasn't okay. I hadn't seen Tim since I'd been brought into the ER, and even then I'd been able to see bright red blood on his white shirt.

"Where's McGee?" I demanded to know, starting to grow frantic. Tony was teasing, or laughing, or quoting movies. He was just standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets.

Finally, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Elle. He's...he didn't make it."