Aaaannnd, here is the end! I could have split it up into 2 more chapters, but I just made it one super long one. I really love this story, and I'm glad for all the faithful readers along the way. I plan to take a bit of a break, and then will probably pick up with "I Really Hate You Right Now" which is set a few yrs from this one. I'm sure there will be some one shots here and there, too. Thank you all! Reviews are always such a delight.

He stalked silently through the trees, dressed in black, his face covered in grease paint. This felt familiar, and he let the comfort of training settle him step after step. It was all about control, about patience. Abby liked to call him 'silver-haired fox,' but tonight he was more lethal than merely cunning. More than a ghost as he slipped from tree to tree, making sure not to leave tracks.

His ear piece and cuff mic were off and tucked into a pocket, phone also stowed and off. After leaving Kate in the kitchen, he had found his way to the upstairs rooms and to the windows. Using the scope from a sniper rifle, he began to sweep the area. Searches in all directions hadn't given him much, so he'd waited for the sun to begin setting before telling DiNozzo he'd check in within three hours.

Two hours and nineteen minutes into his hunt, and he was circling around a point on the north end of the property. Everything sounded normal, the occasional rustle of a squirrel or a bird interrupting the quiet. The wind was light tonight, only enough to rustle the grass lightly as he passed.

About fifteen minutes before, he'd climbed a tree to get a better vantage point, scanning the next sector, north, before he headed that way. Sometime had caught his eye, a little glint that shouldn't be there. According to his tracking, it was about fifteen yards to his left. He circled silently, moving inward to be sure no one was lurking nearby.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon as Gibbs caught the flicker again in the last bit of light. Hanging from a tree branch was a slug. One that had been fired from a gun. He recognized the striations. He fished into his pocket for a moment, finding a disposable glove. Gibbs wrapped the glove around the bullet before pulling out his KA-BAR and cut the fishing line suspending the bullet. Both knife and evidence were quickly stowed, and Gibbs cursed, reaching up to head-slap himself.

This was planted. It was meant to keep him from the house. He took off in a run again, headed directly back. He pulled out his ear piece and cuff and called for DiNozzo.

NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS

"Kate okay?" Tony asked as the director slipped out of the study, closing the door behind her.

"She's asleep on the couch," Jenny replied, leaning against the wall. "I know we're leaving when Gibbs gets back, but she was so exhausted…"

He nodded, relieved that she had finally fallen asleep. "No, let her sleep while she can." Tony gave the woman a small smile. "Director, thanks for letting her use this as a safe house."

The red head shook. "I'm just Jenny here. And I don't mess around when it's one of my agents on the line."

"Still," Tony pressed, feeling the need to make the point that Gibbs wouldn't bother making and the one Kate was too distracted to make. "Thanks."

Jenny nodded. "You're welcome, Tony. She really has taken all of this in stride, hasn't she."

He shrugged. "In the Secret Service, it was her life every day. I think it bothers her that she's not in control, though." Before she could say anything, he held up a hand as though to slow her down. "I know what you're gonna say. She hasn't been in control since she joined Team Gibbs, but you know what I mean."

"Yes," Jenny agreed.

His phone rang, and he reached for it, surprised to see the name on the screen. "It's Tony."

"Tony, we just received notice from metro police. They found a man murdered in a warehouse with all sorts of files and maps and pictures of Kate. One of the men who responded to the scene remembered seeing Kate from the shootings at the recruiting offices. They called us, and—"

"The point, McProbie?" he protested, knowing now why they drove the boss crazy with stuff like this. McGee and Abby were the worst offenders when it came to rambling.

"Tamir's dead."

Tony's eyes narrowed, and in his peripheral vision he caught sight of Jenny who was watching him with interest in the snippets of conversations she could hear. "You're sure about that. I mean one hundred percent?"

"Abby's running the DNA test now with a sample they brought, body's down in autopsy. It looks exactly like the pictures we have. The body's coming into autopsy now."

"Let me know as soon as Abby has the DNA. I'm not messing around with this."

"Got it," McGee answered. Before the senior agent could disconnect the call, he heard, "And Tony?"

"What?"

"He was gutted."

Tony's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"His hands were bound behind his back, legs, too. Hogtied. And then he was split open. I guess there were, um… intestines and all that spilled out. It was a mess."

And a slow death. Deliberate. Revenge? "Got it, call me as soon as she has that DNA." He folded his phone and slid it back into the pocket before glancing up at a very curious Jenny. "Looks like Tamir may have bought the farm."

Ziva rounded the corner now, stopping short when she saw the other two. "I just received a call. Tamir—"

"Is dead," Tony finished for her. "McGee called me. They're running a DNA test to confirm it."

The Israeli shook her head. "No need. One of my contacts was able to confirm it. It is him."

"Ziva, did they say how he died?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't care to ask. He was a… how do you say…"

"Bastard?" Jenny supplied, and the other woman nodded.

"He was hog tied and split open. Bled out," Tony supplied.

Ziva's lips pressed into a thin line. "Like a pig," she muttered.

"Or a loose end," Jenny murmured. She glanced between the other two. "Does that mean that this is over?"

Tony shrugged helplessly. Before he could answer, his phone was ringing again. He fished it out, flipping it open with one hand. "Boss?"

"Is Kate with you?"

Through the phone, he could easily hear the urgency and the heavy breathing and wind. Boss was running. "She's in the study, sleeping again—"

"Get in there now, damn it, I said not to leave her alone."

Tony tugged at the study door, almost walking into it when the knob refused to turn. "I left an agent in there with her—"

Ziva slipped around him, expertly flipping open her knife and slipping it into the thin space and releasing the lock with a click. She jumped back as the door was flung open .

In the corner was the agent, crumpled and unconscious. The window was partially open, letting in the slightest breeze to float through the otherwise empty room. "Agent's down," he breathed into the phone. Tony caught half of Gibb's growl before the line went silent. It shocked him into action, and he quickly lifted his cuff mic. "Agent down, Agent Todd is missing. Cover your areas, now."

NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS

Kate tried to hold back the grunt of ache when her captor jerked roughly on her hands, hands that were bound behind her back.

"You are only making it more difficult for yourself," he hissed, pressing his weapon against her ribs. Into the lingering bruises and ache.

It made her side burn, the ache building. She half wondered if it wouldn't be easier to pass out altogether. She bit her bottom lip to keep from making more noise.

She was sleeping when she finally became aware of something warm and heavy over her mouth. Her eyes flashed open, voice catching in her throat when she saw first and foremost a gun pointed in her face. The muzzle pressed against her forehead.

"Not a word," he breathed. The gun inched back, and she took her eyes off of it for a second to see a middle eastern man with narrow eyes so dark they were almost black and dark hair that curled at the ends. "Roll onto your stomach."

Kate took a slow breath and moved carefully to comply, scowling as the movement made her side start to hurt again. As she rolled to her right and then onto her stomach, she felt the empty holster where her gun had been. Hands took her wrists and before she could take another blink she felt cording wrapping them tightly and binding them. A quiet sound from her side, and then he dangled her knife before her eyes.

"You will not be needing this, either." The hand fell to her shoulder and pulled her up, forcing her to her feet, gun now pressing to the nape of her neck. He walked them to the window. "You will go out slowly and wait for me."

She glanced out into the dark, judging the short distance and coming up instantly with a number of ways to twist and pull free. "And if I don't?" she challenged quietly.

He nodded to the collapsed figure just a foot away. "If you do not, then she will die."

It was Elena, one of Kate's Secret Service friends. She watched for a moment, making sure that the woman was still breathing, that he hadn't already killed her. Elena was alive, but even in the dim light, Kate could tell she was going to have a concussion. With a small nod of understanding, she began to awkwardly maneuver out of the window and dropped the few feet to the grass.

"Good girl," he sneered as she fell in step.

Kate frowned, but held her tongue. She would go along with it for now, relaxing and trying her best to comply. When another agent appeared at the corner of the house, he pulled her back against a little alcove that covered the large plastic trash cans from view.

"I will shoot you both if you make a sound," he breathed against her ear, the slightest chuckle slipping from her mouth when she shivered at the hot breath against her skin.

Calm down and observe, she warned herself, focusing on the feet running now across the courtyard, voices raised. She breathed slowly, not wanting to attract any attention to them just yet. He was pressing her back, hands pressed against the rough stone behind her. Rough stone. She felt for a sharper spot and carefully pressed the cord against it, rubbing it as much as she dared. Her gaze was pinned on him, trying to keep her movements at a minimum as she worked the cording against the roughest part of the stone.

Several voices were calling in, steps fading when her captor jerked her out and dragged them further into shadows. "Walk quietly," he murmured, the muzzle of his gun at the nape of her neck again.

Her fingernails dug into the start of the break in the cording. She needed something else, but he had taken her knife. Not that she could have reached for it anyway. Focus on what you can do, she reminded herself, nail digging harder into the cording as they reached the small garden pond.

A soft rustle beyond them startled her captor as the back door opened and a rush of outdoor lighting came alive. It was exactly opening she needed, and Kate launched herself at him, using her weight to knock him off balance and sending both of them into the dirty pool of water.

The icy coldness of the water was a shock to her system, taking her breath for a terrifying moment. Maybe it wasn't her best plan yet, but she struggled, squirming out of his reach and managing to knee him in the groin. She twisted, searching for the surface and breaking up with a gasp. Kate wrenched her arm, the cord not quite breaking, but allowing her wrist enough leverage to slip out.

He was behind her now, hand sliding around her throat. Kate grabbed at the other arm, tugging it away, seeing the knife. She rasped for air as the hand around her neck tightened. Three loud cracks, and his hand was limp, but before she could wrap her brain around what was happening, he was collapsing again.

All two hundred pounds dropped onto her, forcing her under the water again. Kate thrashed for a long moment, shoving away weight, kicking hard against an unyielding wall of concrete. She twisted. Something grabbed her, and she gasped in reflex inhaling the water. The grip was impossible to break, and it forced her up, dragging her.

"Kate! Katie!"

She was surrounded by air again, but Kate couldn't breath it in. Something wouldn't let her. Twisting away from the grip, she caught a glimpse of familiar piecing blue eyes before she felt concrete under her knees, a hand slapping at her back.

With a gag, water poured out, and she felt her stomach turn. Kate heaved again, arms and legs suddenly weak.

Warm hands brushed her hair from her face and rubbed her back firmly as she coughed and gagged up the remaining dirty water. When she finally took a few shuddering breaths, Gibbs was pulling her against his chest, letting her curl against him. "Sssh, you're okay, Katie. We got him."

"You got me," she breathed feeling the small chuckle and relaxing into the warmth while everything else seemed to whirl around them, agents busy and eventually the EMT crew arriving.

NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS

Gibbs ran his fingers over the smooth planes of his boat, finally satisfied with his work and setting the smoothing plane on the counter and crossing the few feet to the overstuffed chair in the corner. Brushing his hands clean on his jeans, he tugged the blanket up around Kate's shoulders and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. Her skin was comfortably warm, but not warm enough to have the fever the doctors had worried might come from inhaling pond water.

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion when he finally was allowed into the exam room. Kate was covered with a hospital blanket, hands wrapped in several bandages to keep clean the scrapes from the concrete. On the top, right corner of her forehead was a white butterfly bandage, keeping closed the cut on her forehead. Both wrists were bruised, but the doctor had assured both of them that she hadn't done more damage to her ribs and that she did not have a concussion.

"Is Elena okay?"

He nodded, brushing back a lock of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. "Yeah, mild concussion. They're keeping her overnight just to be safe."

"Your own blend?" she asked tiredly, glancing at the cup of coffee that Jenny had delivered when she came to check on both Kate and Elena.

Gibbs shook his head. "From the shop downstairs."

Her brow furrowed, and he wished she wouldn't do that. He hated seeing her like that, unable to completely hide the little tinge of hurt. "Oh. I thought you might stay through visiting hours."

It almost made him smile. She expected him to insist that he needed to stay the night. "You're not staying the night. You're coming home with me."

She smiled a little at the words. "Good."

He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Yeah."

Somewhere in the mess of the night, Abby was finally able to identify the DNA. Tamir was definitely gone. He had recognized the man who had Kate the moment he came up on them. Al-Assar was dead from four shots to his head and chest. His was the headshot; Jenny, Ziva and Tony had taken the three shots to his chest. Eventually he was sure that Abby would verify all of it, and at least they'd made it easy for Ducky to determine cause of death.

Ziva had slipped up to the hospital before Kate was released, filling him in on the remaining gaps. Subrinka had cut loose Al-Assar, cut off his funding and purged all ties. He was burned. In an effort to get back in with Subrinka, Al-Assar went after his loose end. Tamir. Kate wasn't even a blip on Subrinka's radar screen. The man's business was safe in Syria. It had seemed almost anticlimactic when he collected Kate from the hospital, stopping on the way home only for a little food while she called Rachel.

Kate gave a sigh and shifted slightly, frowning in discomfort. Amber eyes opened just a slit. "LJ?"

"Right here," he murmured, squatting in front of the chair. "Ready to sleep in a real bed?"

"Comfy here," she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

"I'm here all night," he assured, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. "Sleep, Katie." He wasn't surprised that she wanted to stay down here. It was his sanctuary, and somewhere over the weeks, it had become hers as well. Gibbs stood slowly, adjusting the blanket one more time around her and watching her chest rise and fall slowly.

He picked up a sanding block and returned to his boat, letting the paper slide evenly over the hull. Maybe by morning she would be up to helping. He had promised they would work on the boat a bit, and he kept his promises.