CHAPTER 29: INTERCEPTION

Like a greyhound, her heart raced against her chest. Tourists zipped on by. Her bruised rib stung with wrenching pain. Hatcher screamed in the backdrop. The palpable atmosphere smothered her mind, wrung thoughts like water from a towel as she ran at a frantic pace.

People in the swarming crowd raised hands after her retreating figure. Some gazed with perplexed expressions. Others held a hand to their lips in stunned silence. Though, none of these factors contributed to the sprint, but rather elicited a confined sensation that clung on for dear life.

She hurdled over a piece of luggage, touched earth when clawing hands grasped her shoulders and clamped down. The weight of a muscle-toned body propelled her down. Her hands and elbows scraped against the pavement, knees absorbed blows of solid concrete, whereas her head received a ricocheted knock.

The world spun for a moment before it became clear. Suddenly, she scratched at the hard surface, desperate to get away, but Hatcher grabbed her ankles and pulled with all his might.

A loud call penetrated the air as agony tore at her body. She kicked free, thrust a foot at his forehead and heard a frustrated growl as it connected with his face in a loud thwack. He released her, and she scampered to her feet, reinforced the previous kick with another two to his ribcage. Afterward, retracted her right hand and lugged it at his jaw.

Hatcher's top lip split with the punch. Blood flowed from the gap.

Wiping at it, he sneered smugly, then pushed off like a frenzied beast. Leslie defended against the oncoming charge with a quick sidestep, seized her sidearm and prepared to fire, but he evaded the gunshot. Swift, he retaliated with an uppercut, which she deflected only to be caught around the neck. Like a snake, his forearm squeezed her throat. Her breath came through shallow, dissipated with each second. The weapon clunked to the ground. Leslie struggled against the hold, frantic to escape, but the effort only helped the process along. After a tedious moment, light dwindled like a flickering candle's flame before the world gradually darkened.

"NCIS! Federal Agent."

The snarling shout sounded distant in her ears.

"Get out of the way!"

"A step closer Gibbs and snap." Hatcher threatened.

"You get your filthy hands off her." Joseph demanded.

The Major laughed as he released her limp form, retrieved his pistol and fired. Sharp gunshots resonated in procession. Figures scattered with the onslaught save for two who cried out as they fell to the ground.

"So this is how it works." Hatcher began as he knelt beside her prone body and positioned the gun against her bruised throat.

"Either you take care of the wounded like the Samaritans you are. Or I take care of her."

"And if we comply, you walk away with Leslie as your hostage." Joseph clarified.

"See, if people were as thoughtful as you, more needless deaths would be thwarted."

"Then there's the part where America doesn't negotiate with terrorists." Gibbs stated.

"Oh yeah, that's true. Forgot the tad detail. But need I remind you, you've got two innocent civilians staining the paving here and a spy unconscious, perhaps even in a coma." He shrugged. "What can I say? Sometimes I get carried away."

"Enough!" The Medic yelled.

"Not even there, Joey. Add more oomph to it. More spirit, too. And hey, look." He raised a secondary pistol and levelled it at the crowd that had surrounded them. "Who should I shoot first? Little ol' granny there. Maybe the dude with the mammoth biceps." He narrowed his eyes at the man who retreated at the observation. "Dang, those took some work. Dontcha think?"

"That's enough!" Gibbs demanded.

"Bravo." Hatcher extolled. "You see, Joey. That's how you do it. And yes we should get back to business. Choices; choices. A life –" He paused as he marked the pained expression on the Medic's face, then smiled, thrilled with the outcome. "For three lives. What's it gonna be? I should warn you; my trigger fingers are cramping up. Tick-tock boys."

Gibbs glanced to his left and noticed the tremble in Joseph's posture, after that the stain on his jacket. Grimacing, he gazed at the Major.

"Two lives for three." He offered while lowering the gun. "We got a deal?"

"Gibbs." The Medic protested.

"That's the offer, Hatcher. Me, her, you. Game over."

"I like the sound of that, Agent Gibbs. Really cool. We can finish what she started."

"You know what surrendering to him involves, Gibbs. He's a lying bastard."

Joseph said while the veteran kicked the pistol away and propped his hands for all to see.

"Shut up, buddy." Hatcher scolded politely. "No one gets hurts if he lets go. He knows the stakes. He double rolled."

"He gets to call for backup first." Gibbs settled. "Then we can leave."

"Look around you, Special Agent. These spectators got it covered. Quit stalling, grab her and let's go."

The veteran dipped his chin at Joseph, signalling he should trust him and yield for now.

"C'mon old man." Hatcher interrupted their exchange. "Try any funny business. Bam, through your heart. Bam, to her heart. Bam, another bullet through his leg. They watch me disappear. Kapeesh?"

Bang, you are dead. Another scumbag off the street. I can live with that. Gibbs walked forward, hands still propped as he approached them.

Meanwhile, Tori smirked at the Medic. "Play the hero. They play the harp. Leave the gutsy work to the professionals. It's what you're good at."

Kneeling down, Gibbs seized her arm whilst watching as the Major held the gun on him. Together they hoisted her, then he felt the object jab him in the side.

"Walk, life gets considerably easier for you. Stop, life turns red, blocks out the sun and you don't get to see the finish. Obey, like I advised you to, she lives to hear the ending."

Reluctant and aggravated, the veteran placed one foot in front of the other, observed the crowd for a split second before walking in tune with the man's advance. Behind them, he heard Joseph collapse to the ground and weep. The echoes of scrambling feet followed suit as brave men and women came to his rescue, but none dared assist them. In lieu, they had faded into the lunch throng and tourists, who'd decided the Tidal Basin and its accompanying memorials were worth the trouble on a winter's day.

"Sooner than later, decisions catch up Hatcher. Today is certainly one of those days."

"And I said I would receive it gladly just as long as I got my piece to the pie."

"They don't want a beat soldier like you. Your empire is all they're after."

"Everything comes at a price. Even your loyalty."

"Don't think I'm doing this willingly because you bestowed me an opportunity. You could've just as easily killed her as I could've you. Unlike you, I have the safety of others to consider."

"Logically, it's the nature of the beast. You have to do what's right for the right reasons. I do whatever is necessary to survive. I've accepted my fate; you've chosen yours. It's inevitable, I get it."

A scowl lined his brow as he glanced at the Major. Those had been Leslie's exact words before she disappeared on him. He inspected her inert facial features.

"Who's playing who then?" Vance asked.

"Who made a deal with who?"

Hatcher laughed and pulled them to the right towards a vacant pickup truck.

"That's the glitch about digging. Once you start, you can't seem to put an end to it. The deeper you go the more intrigued you get the more chances there are for disenchantments. When it's decision time; whether you want to accept the result for what it really is or not, you hate the fact that you got involved in the first place."

Gibbs glared at him as he manoeuvred away, gestured his gun to the passenger's side. Ostensibly, he was to help Leslie into the truck unaided. He heaved a sigh.

"I sympathise, but you should've never invited her into your building, bucko. That was your primary mistake."

"Yeah, and what's the second?"

"Agreeing to carry the weight of our sins on your shoulders."

He waved the gun at him to proceed. While doing so, the veteran considered the reply and had to agree. If he'd stayed away, none of this would've been his responsibility. Nevertheless, he had done so for the sake of doing the right thing, and only because he dug deep and refused to let go until the case was completed. That was his nature, and it was exploited for their benefit.

They climbed in together. With Leslie wedged between them and slightly slumped against the Agent's shoulder, Hatcher inserted the key into the ignition and turned it.

"She had one simple task and one alone, Gibbs. To show herself to me. It's not my fault she deceived you and integrated you into this game. Granting, it amped the pursuit, but it also revealed the one obvious point. Eventually, everything must find a closure."

"Now that you've taken us off the board, what's your endgame?"

"Not what you think."

"It's a matter of what the remainder of the players will do."

"Want, need, desire – they've evaporated in the wind. This is . . ." He sighed. "It's between me and her."

"Cliché."

"An ultimatum."

"A choice."

"It was never mine to make. Happens when you've chosen the character of an outcast."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "The final play?"

Hatcher snickered smugly. "Will be determined, soon."