Chapter 36

Thirty years ago...

Sam tolerated the fog of the painkillers for all of three days before he asked the doctor to back things off a bit, even if it meant he felt more pain.

The problem was that, once he could think more clearly, he could remember everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong.

And he could realize that he wasn't being told anything about his surviving team.

"All right, Commander. It's Dr. Jones. I promised you that today would be the day we start getting your eyes back to full function. Or as close to it as we can get."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked.

"It means that, until we do some tests, we won't know for sure if the damage to your eyes is permanent. You won't be blind, if that's your worry, but there could be some blind spots, some flaws in your vision. We just can't know until we try it. Are you ready?"

"Yes," Sam said. That didn't take any thought at all. He wanted to see again. He hated this perpetual darkness, especially when he knew that, just beyond the bandages, there was light.

Dr. Jones removed the bandages and Sam sighed with relief when he realized that he could see.

"It's still pretty dark," he said, after a few seconds.

"That's because we're getting your eyes used to reacting to light again. Taking it slowly will make it better for your eyes and for you."

"Oh. Okay."

Sam looked around the room. It wasn't particularly interesting, so he focused his attention on Dr. Jones. He was a bit blurry, but visible.

"Just relax and take your time, Commander McGee. We're not rushing this, and we'll still have you wear eye protection during the night. Your eyes are very sensitive right now and we don't want you accidentally rubbing at them because you're only half awake."

"Okay."

Even though he couldn't quite read the expression on Dr. Jones' face, Sam decided to ask.

"What about my team, Doc? The last I heard was that things were really serious. No one has told me anything since then."

Even without seeing details, Sam could tell that Dr. Jones was hedging.

"Come on, Doc. These are my men. This was my team. I chose each man myself. I need to know."

Dr. Jones sighed.

"I'm sorry, Commander. Both Crespo and Standford died of their injuries. Last week. Their families have already been notified and they've come to claim the bodies."

Sam couldn't hide his shock. Even though Charlie had told him how bad it was, he had never seriously considered the possibility that he and Charlie would be the only ones left. He didn't know what to say or how to react. He just sat where he was, staring.

"Commander?"

"Doc, I'd...like to be alone for a little while, if you don't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Sam said.

"All right. I'll send someone in to check on you in about an hour. If you start getting renewed pain in your eyes, please call for help."

Sam just nodded.

"I'm sorry, Commander McGee," he said again.

Sam nodded again but said nothing. It was like all the words he knew had been sucked out of his brain and he couldn't even think of anything to say.

When he was alone, he sat there, trying to digest what had happened. His entire team was dead. Every one of them, with the exception of Charlie. Standford who'd had so much potential as a leader. Politz who had cared perhaps a little too much. Crespo who had joined the military as soon as his citizenship had gone through. Dillan, Archer, Larson, Flores, Austin and Greene, all gone. He had worked with them, trained them, and he had chosen them himself. Each one of those deaths was because he had chosen them all those months ago.

He closed his newly-seeing eyes as the pain that had nothing to do with his physical injuries began to grow and grow.

He didn't hear the door open, didn't realize there was someone in the room with him until he felt a hand on his arm and heard a voice.

"Sam? Sam, what's wrong?"

Sam opened his eyes and saw his wife. He reached out to her and pulled her close, not caring how much pain he might feel. Then, he closed his eyes again.

"They're dead, Naomi. My whole team is dead. All the men I chose. It's like I killed them myself."

Then, finally, Sam started to cry.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Present...

Gibbs watched as the door to the bathroom closed and debated whether or not he should force Tim to keep defending his actions. He had to admit that he was surprised at Tim's approach. He could tell that Tim was trying to make him mad, although he wasn't sure of the reason for it. He was surprised that Tim was trying it at all, though. The few times he'd really shot back verbally at someone had led to instant remorse. Was he feeling that now? Quite frankly, Gibbs couldn't tell, which was also a surprise.

Even more than all that was how Tim looked. He smelled bad. His clothes were stained and torn, likely beyond repair, and he just looked tired and dirty. He was worn down and that wasn't a normal look for him.

Finally, he decided that he'd let Tim stay in the bathroom for the time being. There were no windows in there. He wasn't getting out. He'd have to talk to them again, eventually.

After another hour or so, Tony arrived with pizza. Tim still hadn't emerged from the bathroom. Gibbs was deciding if he should try to get him out or not.

"Hey, Boss, I decided to stop and get some extra clothes for McGee," Tony said in a low voice when he came in. "I figured there was no reason for him to keep on what he has, and I don't think that we want to bother washing them."

Gibbs nodded and gestured to the bathroom.

Tony walked over and knocked.

"What." That was a rather sullen retort.

"I got you some clothes so that you can give the ones you're wearing to someone who might appreciate them. Like a pig or something."

There was a long pause. Then, Tim opened the door and Gibbs noticed he was still holding the laptop he'd had before.

"Thanks, Tony," he said. Then, he closed the door again.

Tony turned back.

"How long has he been in there?"

"Couple hours."

"Doing what?"

"I don't know."

"Should we leave him in there?"

"Unless you think he'll somehow break through the wall, DiNozzo, I don't think we'll have much to worry about."

Then, the shower went on.

"Good. I don't know how much longer I could stand the stink. I can't believe how bad he smelled. I wouldn't ever think that McGee would be the guy who was willing to forgo basic hygiene for any length of time. We all sharing this room?"

"Safer that way."

"Okay, then, we'll have to throw out those clothes he's been wearing. I'm not going to smell those all night long." Tony looked at the sleeping arrangements. "I'll take the pull-out couch. Let McGee have a real bed. It didn't look like there was much out there where he was. I'll bet he'd like having something comfortable to sleep on."

"Okay."

There was a period of silence. Then, Tony looked at the bathroom door and back at Gibbs.

"We've got him. What are we going to do, now, Boss?"

"See if he'll talk."

"What were you doing while I was gone?"

"Yelling at each other."

Tony's brow furrowed. "McGee was yelling at you?"

"Pretty close."

"That doesn't sound right. McGee doesn't yell at people in positions of authority...and he definitely doesn't yell at you."

"Doesn't change what he was doing," Gibbs said. He chose not to share what Tim had said, especially when he was pretty sure that Tim would feel bad about it later and possibly already felt bad about it.

"But why?"

Gibbs just shrugged.

The shower went off.

"That didn't take him long," Tony said. "Good because I'm starved. In fact..." He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked. "Hey, Probie! Hurry up in there. The pizza'll get cold!"

There was no response from the bathroom.

"Hey, Probie, you okay in there?"

Still nothing.

"If you don't answer, I'm going to break in to check on you."

Silence. Tony looked over at Gibbs who just gestured for him to get on with it if he was going to. He wasn't sure if there was any reason to be worried, but at least in this case, Tony had given Tim plenty of chances to say something.

Finally, a response.

"I'm naked, Tony. Don't come in."

There was a dull quality to Tim's voice and Tony looked at Gibbs with concern. Gibbs was surprised at how Tim sounded, too. It wasn't at all what he'd expected after having Tim yell at him. He'd expected more irritation and anger.

"Well, hurry up and I won't have to."

"I'll be out in a minute."

True to his word, Tim came out a few minutes later. His hair was damp and he had quite the scruff, and he was still holding the laptop...or else holding it again. Since he'd showered, he would have to put it down at some point, but did he really expect Gibbs or Tony to take it from him?

"About time, Probie," Tony said, trying to sound normal. "Come over and eat."

Tim nodded and walked over to the chair. He sat down and spared a hand to grab a slice of pizza. And then, Gibbs got a hint of what Tim had meant when he said that he hadn't been enjoying himself out in the woods. Tim seemed to inhale the slice and he'd eaten three before Tony had finished even one.

"Whoa. Slow down there a bit, McGee. Chewing is still a requirement," Tony said.

Gibbs also noticed that Tim wasn't making eye contact with either of them. Why not? Gibbs really couldn't figure out what was going on in Tim's head at the moment. Regardless, he let Tim eat, and Tim ended up eating about half the pizza by himself. ...but all with one hand because he still wouldn't put down the laptop.

"Filled up are you?" Tony asked when Tim finally stopped eating.

"Yeah," Tim said.

"Just what were you eating out there?"

"Granola bars, fruit snacks...water."

"That's it?"

"Had to be nonperishable so I didn't have to keep going to buy more stuff."

"But still...that's it?"

"Yeah."

"You're nuts," Tony said.

"Maybe," Tim said, but he still wouldn't look at them. "Now, what?"

"Now, we go to bed. And figure out what to do, tomorrow," Gibbs said. "And if you try to sneak out, I'm not above handcuffing you. Got it?"

"Yeah," Tim said.

"You can have the bed tonight, McGee," Tony said. "The couch doesn't look too bad."

"Thanks."

There was a strangely-dampened tone to Tim's voice. It was nothing like he'd been before and that worried Gibbs, although he wasn't sure if he should be or not. Still, they had Tim now. They knew where he was and that meant that they were one step ahead of where they'd been.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Faith decided to have a late lunch and take this to Chegwidden again. She hadn't really wanted to. It would be more comfortable for her if she could go to Cresswell, but despite his insistence that he didn't need her to protect him, he had been an excellent head of JAG and she wasn't going to change that if she could help it. Chegwidden had already retired.

She pulled up in front of his house and got out of her car. As she walked toward his front door, the door opened and who she saw drew her up short.

"Well, look who we have here. Captain Coleman, it's been a long time."

"Captain Rabb," Faith said, unsure if she was actually glad to see him or not. It still bothered her that he hadn't trusted her enough to do her job.

"Just Harm, now," he said. "I've been retired for a few years. I hear you're making life difficult for yourself."

Faith managed to hide her surprise that Harm was up to speed on her situation.

"I have others to make it difficult for me," she said.

Chegwidden came up behind Harm.

"Captain Coleman."

"Admiral, I was hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes. If you're not busy."

"See, A. J.? I'm not the only person who can't drop the title, consistently."

Chegwidden rolled his eyes good-naturedly but he gestured for her to come inside. Harm came in as well, and that didn't really make Faith feel any more comfortable, but she tried not to show it. This was business, not pleasure, and it didn't matter what else was going on.

"Have a seat, Captain," Chegwidden said.

Faith perched on the edge of a chair and waited for Harm and Chegwidden to sit down as well.

"I have a problem," she said, with no preamble. "At least one of the people behind the attempts to intimidate me is the current Secretary of Defense."

"You mean in person," Chegwidden said.

"Yes. One of the people he got to intimidate me happened to be a sailor I defended a few years ago and he told me what was going on."

"One of the people?" Harm asked.

"I've had someone break into my office. I've had people follow me, always from a distance. So yes, he was one of them."

"So it's true, then," Harm said.

"What's true?"

Chegwidden leaned forward. "I asked Harm to come out here to see if he could help find some more information about this case."

Faith knew that she hadn't been successful in hiding her surprise, no matter how much she'd wanted to.

"Oh." She really couldn't think of anything else to say about it.

"Don't sound so excited, Captain," Harm said, with a grin. "I didn't step on your toes at all. I just asked around to see if anyone knew about the case since it sounded like everything is being kept pretty quiet."

"And?"

"And there's been some indication that it does go as high as Secretary Stidden, but I wasn't sure how accurate that particular scuttlebutt was. It has to do with an operation in Nicaragua and it's started because of pressure from the Nicaraguan government. It's being suggested that they may even try to bring the U.S. before the ICJ."

"But the U.S. has already been before the ICJ, in a case from Nicaragua, back in 1986. Why would they expect a different outcome this time?" Faith asked. "The U.S. refused to accept the ruling and vetoed enforcement."

"I don't know. Maybe there's something about this particular case that is different enough that its coming out would be bad enough, even without ICJ punishment. Regardless, the end result that they want appears to be either your client in prison for the rest of his life or extradited to Nicaragua where he'd also be in prison for the rest of his life or executed for capital crimes."

"That's what I concluded as well," Faith said. "And Secretary Stidden was named as the instigator?"

"Not as the instigator, but that he was involved somehow."

"Well, he was the one sending a sailor to intimidate me. He just picked the wrong sailor."

Harm chuckled. "Figures. There are thousands he could choose from, and the one he picks is one who owes you."

"How do you know he owes me?"

Harm grinned. "Because, Captain, I've never seen you lose."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Even when the client is trying his best to make me lose?"

"Even then. I did appreciate your work, though, and I didn't want you to lose."

"Thank you. How long are you staying?"

"I'm actually on my way out, but if you need anything, you can definitely call. I don't like the way this looks. In fact, I'd say that it reeks of using this man as a scapegoat. That's not right, and I don't like it when good people are punished to let someone else save face. I may not be able to help, but I'll definitely try."

"I'll remember that."

Harm got up.

"Don't worry about me, A. J. I'll get to the airport by myself."

Chegwidden stood up, too, and shook Harm's hand.

"Good to see you, again, Harm. I'll let you know when I can come by."

"Do that. Nice to see you again, Captain Coleman. I'm sure that Sam McGee has a better chance with you as his lawyer."

Then, Harm left and Faith wasn't sure if she should stay or go. In the end, though, she still wanted some advice. So she sat where she was and tried not to look uncomfortable. Not very many people could make her uncomfortable. Harm was one of those people. She listened to Chegwidden as he walked Harm to the door. Then, waited until he came back.

"Captain, I wasn't sure if you'd come back here again," Chegwidden said as he sat down.

"I wasn't sure if I was going to, but I was hoping for some advice on how to proceed."

"You mean now that you know that you might be going up against the Secretary of Defense?"

"Yes. Do you know anything about him?" Faith asked. "I've never met Secretary Stidden. I just know who he is."

"I have met him. He started out in the CIA and worked his way up." Chegwidden shook his head. "He's always struck me as being one of those people who do their jobs well and don't make waves. Apparently, that was a bad assessment."

"Was he in the CIA in the eighties when this would have happened?"

"I think so. I have to admit that I don't know much of his earlier career. I just know that he was in the CIA before he was nominated as Secretary of Defense. No one had anything against him and he might have been one of the least controversial nominations for the Cabinet in a long time. For someone who has almost as much military authority as the President himself, he hasn't really put himself forward much."

"So then..."

"What should you do about it? I'm not sure, to be honest," Chegwidden said. "Does Cresswell know?"

"About Secretary Stidden? No. About the case, yes. SecNav came and questioned him about it."

Chegwidden nodded speculatively. "Indicating some push from higher up. What does Cresswell think about it?"

"Much like Captain Rabb." Although she knew that he was retired, she did not feel familiar enough with Harm to call him by his first name, even when he wasn't present.

Chegwidden appeared to be hiding a smile.

"I'm glad he's seeing it that way."

"Sir, why did you call him?"

"Because I don't like to see injustice done and I thought that you might need as much help as you could get in order to keep this man out of prison."

"It's not that I don't appreciate it. It's just that...it's unexpected."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It's hard to plan for the unexpected."

"You're a fast thinker. I think you can handle it."

Faith smiled a little.

"I know that you're going to be doing most of the work, but you have as much of a support team behind you as you're willing to accept."

Faith nodded in acceptance of the offer.

"I do have one more issue."

"What's that?"

"This one is probably not known to anyone else. Besides myself and Agent Gibbs' team."

"And?"

"Agent McGee has gone rogue to try to find evidence to clear his father's name."

"Rogue?"

"How far he's gone is unknown at this point, but he definitely indicated that there are no limits on what he's willing to do."

Chegwidden raised an eyebrow, and Faith didn't blame him for being surprised. She wouldn't have expected this of Tim, herself.

"How long has this been the case?"

"About two weeks, but I only found out about it very recently."

"Does anyone know where he is?"

"Not that they've admitted to me."

"Do you think they're lying?"

"No, but that doesn't mean that they're telling the whole truth."

Chegwidden shook his head.

"I don't know what to tell you about that. Whatever he's doing could be helpful or harmful, depending on who finds out about it and if he's successful. I'd say that you should be on your toes and ready to react no matter what the result will be."

Faith nodded. "I know Agent McGee a little bit, and this is out of character."

"Is it?" Chegwidden asked. "Most people don't step out of character, even in extreme situations. They just reveal an extreme aspect of their character. Is it really out of character for him?"

Faith thought about it. There was no question that Tim was willing to do what it took to get the work done, but she'd always pegged him as a straight-laced guy, unwilling to step over the line. Maybe he was and those two values had clashed. Clearly, one had taken precedence.

"Maybe not, but I still wouldn't haven't guessed it."

"That may be why he decided to try it. Who knows? In this kind of situation, it might actually end up helping, not hindering. With everything being kept under wraps, it won't help them to admit that there's an NCIS agent trying to find out what they did thirty years ago. Now, as to Secretary Stidden, until you know why he's involved and to what extent, I would continue on as you have been. It won't do you much good to accuse people in his position until you're sure that you should. At least as long as you're able to deal with the intimidation."

"I am. Thank you, sir."

Finally, Faith stood up.

"Thank you for your time, sir."

"Always available, Captain."

Faith nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Captain Coleman?"

She turned back.

"Yes, sir?"

"If it does come down to a trial and you need secondary counsel, I'm most definitely available."

Faith couldn't help but smile at the offer because of the image it conjured up in her head of the admiral playing second fiddle to her. It was rather ridiculous.

"Thank you, sir."

Then, she left, feeling better just knowing that there was all this unexpected support. At that thought, she wondered if that would help Sam as well. She couldn't see why it wouldn't.

Instead of heading back to JAG, she headed for the apartment where the McGees were staying.