Chapter 37

The sun had long since set below the horizon and they were driving in the dark. None of them had spoken in hours.

"What are you doing in Morocco?" Gibbs asked, unsure if his probing would be allowed. But Tim had apparently trusted this man and he wanted to know what this CIA agent was like.

There was a long pause and then, Gibbs saw Daniel glance at Carew (who said nothing) and back at Gibbs in the rearview mirror.

"I'm establishing a CIA presence here, in case things go south. We don't want to be taken by surprise if Morocco is the next place to have a political meltdown."

"Why you?"

"You mean why someone who is obviously a foreigner?"

"Yes."

"Because I have a connection to Morocco that most people don't have. My mother is half-Moroccan, and both my parents love Morocco. They passed that on to me. I love this place. I love the people. I love the culture."

"And this whole thing was his idea anyway," Carew interjected with some amusement.

"I made the suggestion, I admit."

"Why?"

"My family used to come to Morocco when I was young. My dad had a stroke a few years ago and I wanted a way to get him out here. Besides, it's the perfect excuse for living in Morocco, especially Marrakech. And by the way, Agent Gibbs, everything I'm telling you is stuff I told Tim, too. I didn't tell him everything, but what I did tell him was absolutely true. I just didn't tell him I work for the CIA, too."

"That's a big omission," Gibbs said.

"Only because you make it that way," Carew said. "Most people would accept that there are genuine reasons for not saying everything about oneself. And it would not be assumed that Mr. Worthing is lying about everything simply because he chose to follow the rules of his job."

Silence fell again. Gibbs knew that Carew was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. After another hour, Daniel slowed the car and pulled off to the side of the road.

"Okay. Now what?" he asked. "We have desert in front of us. We have desert to either side and the mountains behind us. If they're in the desert, we'll have to go off road. They wouldn't have dropped them close to possible rescue, but...where?"

Gibbs opened the door and got out. There was a wind blowing and while the ground was still warm, the air was starting to cool. It was dark and he could see the problem involved. Where to look in a region of flat, baked earth and rolling, sandy dunes?

Carew got out as well. He looked around and then, he stared to the north.

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"What's that over there, Mr. Worthing?" Carew asked, pointing.

Daniel got out and followed Carew's gaze.

"Clouds," he said, shrugging. "It looks like it could even be raining which is weird for this time of year."

Carew smiled. "That's where we need to go."

"Why?"

"Because the last time Agent McGee was in a desert, it rained on us, in an area that hadn't seen rain in ten years. Only Agent McGee could be lucky enough to experience rain in the desert twice in a row."

"You're basing your decision on a coincidence?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, I am. And because we have no idea where to look. That direction is a definite option and I've got a reason for it. Do you have a better idea, Agent Gibbs?" Carew asked.

"No."

"Exactly. Find a good place to get off the road and we'll start driving toward that storm."

"Okay. You're the boss," Daniel said.

They got back in the car and Daniel began searching for a place to go off road. After another few minutes, he suddenly slowed to a stop and pointed to a spot at the edge of their headlights.

"A car's been off the road here. Recently. Look at the tracks."

"Does it line up with the storm?" Carew asked.

"More or less. The storm wouldn't just sit in the same spot, you know. It'll move until it blows itself out."

"Go."

Daniel nodded and turned the car off the road, engaging the four-wheel drive as he did so.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said, softly.

"As much as anyone does," Carew replied.

They were driving more slowly now, but the bumping increased significantly. Carew pulled out a flashlight and began shining it to the side of the car. Gibbs found another flashlight under the seat and began doing the same on the opposite side. It wasn't particularly effective, but it was better than nothing.

Then...

"It's been raining here," Daniel said. "Probably a quick downpour, just lasting a few minutes. That's very uncommon this time of year."

Carew nodded.

Another few minutes of clattering silence. They drove through some puddles, but the rain was long gone.

"What's that? Up ahead," Daniel said.

Gibbs leaned up.

"Looks like someone out in the desert, doesn't it," Carew said.

"Only one?" Gibbs asked.

"Hard to tell," Daniel said. "Too far away."

He increased his speed a little bit and the figure looked more and more like two people instead of one. About twenty feet away, Daniel stopped the car. Gibbs got out quickly and headed for the two people.

"Salaam?" Daniel called from the car.

"'ateqnī!"

That was a female voice.

"Zahara!" Daniel said in surprise.

There was a pause and Gibbs could now see the woman shading her eyes from the headlights. She was soaking wet.

"Daniel?" she asked. "Tim...he is hurt!"

Gibbs ran the last few feet and knelt down beside Zahara.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Tim's boss. We've been looking for him," Gibbs said, only giving Zahara a glance.

Tim had all his attention. In the glow of the headlights, he looked white and limp. He was as wet as Zahara. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"They stabbed him. We were trying to escape, but we were not fast enough and they stabbed him. Then, they left us here to die," Zahara said, tearfully.

Gibbs checked Tim's pulse. It was weak and irregular. Daniel joined them. He knelt down and put a comforting hand on Zahara's arm while focusing on Tim.

"Where did they stab him?" Gibbs asked.

Carefully, Zahara rolled Tim over and the large bloodstain on her clothes matched the one on his back.

"The bleeding has stopped now, but he lost so much."

"We've got to get him to a hospital," Daniel said. "And that means going back to Marrakech. It's hours. Will he last that long?"

"Yes," Gibbs said. "He's been through worse. Let's get him in the car."

Carew had stayed by the car, but now, he walked over.

"I've folded down the back seat so that we can lay him back there."

Together, they lifted Tim as gently as they could and moved him to the car. Zahara got in the back and sat beside Tim. She stroked his hair and said nothing. Carew and Daniel got back into the front seat while Gibbs stayed in the back with Zahara and Tim. Quickly, he cut away Tim's shirt and found the wound. It was obviously deep, but the fact that Tim was still alive told him that it hadn't pierced a lung or nicked an artery. It was still oozing a little bit, but overall, it wasn't still bleeding. It was cold comfort after what had clearly been hours with no treatment, but Tim was still alive and they would keep him that way.

The bumpy ride back to the road began. Zahara tried to brace Tim as much as she could, and Gibbs helped. No one spoke while they were clattering through the desert. Daniel was focusing on the path ahead too much. Gibbs and Zahara were focused on Tim, and Carew simply did not speak. It would have been utterly silent in the car were it not for the rough terrain.

Finally, they were back on the road and Daniel was driving back to Marrakech, as fast as he reasonably could through the mountains in the dark. Gibbs took advantage of the smoother drive to prop Tim's legs up on the bags in order to encourage circulation of the blood he hadn't lost. Then, he looked at Zahara and realized how wet she still was and he gave her a blanket. She wrapped it around her shoulders and then looked down at Tim again.

"He was trying to protect me," Zahara said, breaking the silence. "This is my fault."

"No," Gibbs said. "That's the way Tim is. He would always try to protect someone else if he could."

Zahara shook her head. "This has nothing to do with him. He said that he was having a bad day and he wanted to see me to feel better." She closed her eyes and a few tears escaped. "All he got was this."

Gibbs really looked at her for the first time and saw her fear and he also saw a dark bruise on her cheek. In spite of all that, bedraggled as she was, she had a different sort of beauty. It was impossible to tell where she was from based on her looks. Even her accent was not the same as the others they'd spoken to in Marrakech. Now, as she held Tim on her lap, he could see the depth of her feelings. Any idea that this might be a fling on her side was gone with her expression.

He covered her hand with his and patted it.

"He's going to make it," Gibbs said, firmly. "He is not going to die."

"I could not get him to speak," Zahara said. "He was so weak and in so much pain. He did not even feel the rain when it fell and it was what he wanted. He was thirsty."

Gibbs knew that it was a bad idea to give food or water to someone who was unconscious, but maybe they could get Tim back to consciousness somehow.

"Hand me a couple of bottles of water, Carew," he said.

"Is he awake?" Daniel asked.

"No, but I can clean him up."

Zahara handed him a scarf.

"You may use this."

"Thanks."

Gibbs handed Zahara a bottle of water.

"You could probably use some, too."

"Yes. It was very hot," Zahara said. She opened the bottle and drank half of it all at once. Then, she drank the rest more slowly. Meanwhile, Gibbs took the scarf and poured some of the water over it. He began to wipe away the dirt from Tim's face, being as gentle as he could. Then, he started cleaning around the wound.

As he'd hoped, Tim began to stir. His eyes cracked open, and he looked at Gibbs, but seemingly without any actual recognition. Gibbs didn't care about that for the moment. Mental acuity was less important than signs of life, right now.

"Tim, are you thirsty?" Gibbs asked.

For a while, Tim just stared, and Gibbs wondered if he was comprehending anything at all. Then, he nodded, mouthing the word without actually saying it.

Knowing that there could be a risk that Tim wouldn't think to swallow given his current state, Gibbs opened his own bag and pulled out a clean t-shirt. Without a second thought, he cut a strip out of it and soaked the strip with water. Then, he carefully put it in Tim's mouth.

"Suck on it, Tim. If you can handle it, I'll give you more."

Tim obeyed and in seconds, the fabric was nearly dry. So Gibbs took it back and soaked it again. He continued the process of getting Tim to suck on the fabric for the next hour. He didn't dare let Tim actually drink from the bottle, but as long as he could manage sucking on the strip, Gibbs would keep it up. It was far from ideal, but it was the only option they had at the moment. Tim never spoke, never really engaged, but he got some water which he had probably desperately needed.

"How's it going?" Carew asked.

"He's getting some water," Gibbs said. "No sign of recognition."

"Once we get over the mountains and we have service again, we can call ahead to the hospital and see what they want us to do," Daniel said. "It may just be that we get him to the hospital as fast as possible, but we can ask."

After the bottle was half empty, Tim's eyes closed completely and he stopped responding even in the limited way he had been.

"He's out again," Gibbs said and covered Tim with a blanket.

"Still breathing?" Carew asked.

"Yeah."

The silence fell again. Gibbs' attention was all on Tim, making sure he was still alive, that he didn't start bleeding again, that he was as well off as he could be.

"We're almost through the pass," Daniel said. He tossed his phone to Carew. "Start checking for a signal."

Another twenty minutes.

"Got a bar," Carew said.

"Dial 15 and let me do the talking."

"Gladly. Just don't get in an accident, Mr. Worthing. It's not safe to talk and drive."

Daniel muttered something under his breath that Gibbs didn't quite catch, but based on Zahara's expression, it wasn't complimentary. Carew just smiled.

"It's ringing."

"Put it on speaker."

Carew did and held it out. As soon as there was a connection, he started talking rapidly. A couple of times he talked to Zahara and she responded. It was getting details about what had happened to Tim. Now that it was time to give information, Zahara was completely composed. No trembling in her voice, just an earnest desire to be helpful.

Suddenly, Daniel pulled over to the side of the road.

"What are you doing?" Gibbs asked.

Daniel took the phone from Carew and disconnected.

"They're sending a helicopter. It'll get Tim to the hospital a lot faster than I can. It'll be better if we're in one place that they can track than to keep driving and have them have to find us. They'll be here soon."

Another half hour and they could hear the sound of rotors.

Before they knew it, the helicopter was landing. Daniel got out of the car and starting calling to the medics who came over with a stretcher. He was talking to them and gesturing for them to come around the car to the back. They paused in surprise at the sight of Zahara and Gibbs sitting in the back with Tim just lying there. Then, they got moving, checking Tim's breathing and pulse and blood pressure.

"I'm going to go with them to the university hospital. Zahara, you can get them there, right?"

She nodded.

"Good. I'll see you there."

Then, before Gibbs could protest, Tim was on the stretcher and being loaded on the helicopter. Daniel got on as well, leaving Carew, Gibbs and Zahara sitting in the car, looking at each other for a few seconds.

"What were they saying?" Gibbs asked. "I couldn't follow."

"That they were surprised Tim had lived so long as he was. They hoped that he would not have...brain damage from the lack of blood. They also wondered what had happened to an American that left him like that."

"What did Daniel say?"

"That Tim was in the wrong place at the wrong time and they might need to file a police report."

Awkward silence fell again.

"Well...who wants to drive?" Carew asked, finally.

"You know the way?" Gibbs asked Zahara.

"Yes, but I do not think I should be driving." She held up her hand. It was shaking. "I will give directions."

"Okay. Carew?"

"Fine," he said and slid over to the driver's seat. Gibbs closed the back door and moved to the front, leaving Zahara to sit in the back seat. She seemed relieved at having a little more personal space.

It took another three hours to get back to Marrakech. Then, Zahara began guiding Carew to the Mohammed VI University Hospital. Carew dropped them off at the door.

"I'll find a place to park and meet you inside," he said.

Gibbs nodded and walked with Zahara to the front desk.

"Ayn Tim McGee?" he asked.

"Jā' marwahiya," Zahara added.

"Fī al-jarāha," the attendant said and then gestured to the waiting room.

Gibbs saw Daniel sitting, looking a little dazed.

"Shokran," he said and the walked over to Daniel.

He started a bit when Gibbs sat down beside him.

"Sorry. I sat down and suddenly realized how tired I am." He shook his head and looked more alert. "They got him back. The doctors are worried about the blood loss and possible nerve or tendon damage in his shoulder. This place is about the best Marrakech has to offer. There are international clinics where most tourists will go, but this is beyond what they can do. When and if he's stabilized, you'll want to get him back to the States as soon as you can."

Gibbs nodded in agreement. While the medical care might be just fine here, he had to admit that he'd feel better knowing that Tim was in an American hospital.

Still, for now, this would do. He sat down beside Daniel on one side and Zahara sat on the other side. Carew came in a few minutes later and sat down without speaking.

For another hour.

Finally, a doctor came out and started speaking to Daniel who gestured to Carew and Gibbs.

"Yes, I can speak English," the doctor said. "I am Dr. Naybet. Your friend is alive. We were able to give him blood to replace what was lost. We were able to repair some of the damage, but some will have to heal on its own. If it will. We also checked his head because of the injury there, but there is no bleeding."

"Can we see him?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes. You may go back. He is still asleep and I do not believe he will wake up, but you can see him."

Daniel, Zahara and Gibbs all got up, but Carew waited where he was. Gibbs debated asking whether or not he was coming, but he couldn't imagine Tim being excited about seeing him, so he said nothing. Instead, they walked back to a large room. There were a couple of other people there, but they saw Tim right away. He was lying in a bed, IVs, oxygen supplement, but he was alive and that was wonderful. Gibbs and Daniel walked over to the bed, but Zahara lagged behind.

Gibbs sat down and examined Tim more closely. Beyond the obvious injury, it was clear that Tim had been safe and secure in Morocco before all this had happened. There were no other obvious injuries.

"He's alive," Daniel said, softly. "I'm glad. I never thought we'd be able to find them in the middle of the desert. Then, I wasn't sure he'd survive to get back here."

"He's been through worse," Gibbs said.

"You said that before. Tim told me a few vague things, and I've heard of him, of course, but how much worse?"

"They beat his feet," Gibbs said. "Even touching them hurt him. They broke his arm, his face. They nearly killed him. Months of physical therapy."

"And psychological."

"Yeah. That was the worst, but he had other times, too. He got hit by a car and sent to NCIS in a body bag. He couldn't talk. He went insane for a while. He got caught by shrapnel from a bomb. He's had worse."

Daniel was silent for a few minutes, looking at Tim. "I'm sorry that this isn't the worst."

"Me, too."

Suddenly, Daniel looked back.

"Where's Zahara?"

"I don't know," Gibbs said. "I'll go check."

"I can."

"You stay here. He doesn't know I'm here. It might throw him."

Daniel smiled. "I don't know that very much throws Tim at this point."

"I don't think it does."

Gibbs walked out of the room and back to the waiting area. Carew was still seated in the same place.

"Did Zahara come out here?"

Carew nodded.

"Where is she?"

"She left."

"You let her go?" Gibbs asked. "Didn't you hear what she said? People were after her!"

"Yes, but she used my phone to call friends and they came to get her. I saw her leave with them," Carew said. "She was upset, Agent Gibbs. Let her go to the people she knows."

Gibbs was irritated that Carew had allowed Zahara to just leave without trying to stop her, but he also recognized that Carew was probably right. She knew how much or how little danger she was in.

"You can't save the whole world, Gibbs," Carew said, his tone very different from what it usually was. "Sometimes, you just have to let them go if that's what they want."

"Do you do that?"

Carew smiled, but it was less cynical and more weary.

"Agent Gibbs, that is my entire life at this point. If Tamara decides she doesn't want to try any longer, then, all I can do is let her leave. There's no force. Just hope. For now, Zahara has had a major shock. She's been hurt. She's been frightened, and the man who tried to save her nearly died. She needs to have the chance to get comfort from people she knows, not three strangers. How is he?"

"Sleeping. For now."

Carew nodded and remained where he was.

Gibbs went back to sit by Tim...just happy that he had survived.