Disclaimer: same as Chapter 1.

Author's notes:

- A big 'thank you' to all my reviewers who inquired about my health; I'm feeling much better, thank you! :o)

- An angst-filled chapter that I had a hard time to write… Sorry for any inadequacies!

- Tinnitus (Latin word, "ringing") is the perception of sound within the human ear, not including the perception of sound outside the ear (from Wikipedia).

- Details about the RPG-7 launcher come from Wikipedia.

- Words between brackets [ ] are in Pashto language.

- The poem is from The Young British Soldier by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936).

- To Zik: I'm afraid you've guessed right!

- To None: Gibbs is too used to cover for Tony and Abby that it is a conditioned reflex.

- To Guest: this is an action-packed chapter!

- To Sambrea: sorry to make you wait but with work and on-line studies, writing time is kind of short ;-)


Chapter 50: An abduction

Beep… Beep… Be-zzzz-eep… Beep… Be-zz-eep…

Tim grimaced slightly at the sounds of The Watcher's running: electrostatic discharges were messing with the detecting device's functions and it was no wonders, considering the downpour they were under. The thunderstorms had proven to be worse than predicted by weather forecasters: heavy rain, blinding lightning, howling winds and a major electrical chaos above their heads were indeed making the Humvees' progresses through the narrow valley difficult. Visibility was so low, one would have imagined being in the middle of the night instead of plain day and the drivers had a hard time keeping their vehicles on muddy, slippery roads. The pouring rain banged against the Humvees' roofs so loudly that the soldiers had to shout to make themselves being heard and, at some moment, hailstones had started to fall – making the patrolmen's misery complete and they counted their blessings for being on their way back to ISAF! Just the time to get out of the valley and then, the Humvees would reach a tarmac road heading for Kabul and the safety of the base.

The Watcher kept on working but the lightning's interferences were making Tim's job difficult. The electronic maps of their immediate surroundings (roads, high mountains, flowing torrents) were shown on the laptop's screen, complete with every rock detected by the program, but the heavenly electric discharges produced major shock waves through the atmosphere that were disrupting The Watcher's functioning, with the maps' drawings being upset by static. Deep down, Tim was worried that those interferences would slow down the program, even cause a major failure and so, leaving them blind and deaf in a hostile environment. So far, The Watcher had resisted to everything – a bumpy ride in spite of the vehicles' double-wishbone suspension, a violent thunderstorm and the growing anxiety of the soldiers accompanying him – but Tim knew not to push his luck and, even thought he wanted his program to be tested in the worst conditions possible, he had readily agreed when Roberts had told him it was time to head back to the base. McGee would not compromise the safety of the soldiers accompanying him just to indulge his scientific curiosity.

Especially not the safety of one person in particular…

Be-eeeeep-zzz-ep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Be-zzkkkkk-eep…

Tim was back-seating in the Humvee with Roberts at the wheel and Private Winter riding shotgun, as usual. But Spikerman, who would have normally seat next to Tim, had been replaced by Doctor Wilkins and the young man had thought he would go crazy with the presence of his loved one so close to him. But, to her credit, Aimee had not moved an inch from her seat and she had kept a firm eye on the window at all times, her attention entirely focused on their surroundings – or, more accurately, to the very little view she had through curtains of raindrops. She had not asked a single question about the presence of Tim's laptop resting on his thighs and The Watcher's constant beeping had not made her raise an eyebrow, acting like the impeccable soldier she was and making McGee think what good he had done in his life to deserve such a smart woman as Aimee Wilkins in his life.

General Stephenson had been right in his description of the lovely doctor, stating she had her head screwed on right, obeying without wasting everybody's time with questions: any other of Tim's former girlfriends would have wanted explanations and Abby would have thrown in a tantrum until Tim would relent and let her into the secret – regardless of the confidential status of The Watcher, but since she was Gibbs' favorite she was entitled to stick her nose in everyone else's business, right?

Beep… Be-zzzzkkkkkk-eeeeep… Be-zzzz-eep… Beep… Be-zz-eep…

Tim grimaced again and raised his head: his eyes met Roberts' in the rear-view mirror and they exchanged a knowing glance. The weather was getting worse and it would be a matter of time before a thunderbolt would strike the ground nearby – causing Tim's laptop to be affected by an energy spike and ruining its network interface or the power supply, causing the computer to shut down completely. It was high time to go home!

Tim nodded in the direction of Roberts and the Corporal got the silent message: inwardly thanking his lucky stars for Lieutenant McGee's reasonable nature, he pressed his foot on the accelerator and the Humvee roared accordingly, its four-wheel drive digging hard in the mud and rocks in an effort to get out of this valley as soon as possible. Sergeant Raff, who was driving the second Humvee with Private Fredericks, Private Emerson and EOD Spikerman on board, did the same thing; they had done their duties efficiently and they had to go back to the base in one piece for their mission to be a success.

Beep… Beep... Be-zzzzkkkkkk … Beep… Beep… Be-zzzzz-eep…

A small movement at Tim's right side startled him ever-so-slightly, and his heart started to beat increasingly louder as he realized Aimee had stopped her watching through the window to look at him. Before he could stop himself, Tim grabbed the doctor's hand and squeezed it tightly. Aimee smiled, whispered: 'I love you' and then returned her attention to the window. Tim hunched his shoulders in a desperate attempt to hide his face behind the laptop's screen from Roberts' inquisitive gaze even though he knew it was a losing battle: the Corporal already knew about him and Aimee and he seemed to have a knack for spotting everything!

Beep… Beep... Be-zzz… Beep... BeepBeepBeepBe-zzzzzz!

"Wait!" exclaimed Tim.

"What is it, Sir?" asked Roberts, instantly on the alert. Winter grabbed his weapon.

"I can't tell for certain, the lighting is making too much interference but I think I have spotted something..."

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBe-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzkkkk kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!

At the same moment, a thunderbolt hit the ground at about one mile ahead of the Humvee with an ear-splitting sound; as a result, the laptop computer shut down completely: the screen turned dark and the beeping stopped.

"Holy God! My laptop has crashed!" exclaimed Tim.

"Can it be fixed, Sir?" asked Winter.

"I'm not sure... But the program has detected something near us, I'm sure of it!"

McGee started to type in the earnest, but his efforts proved to be vain: the laptop was still unresponsive and a suspicious smell of melted plastic started to invade the Humvee's passenger compartment, proving his worst fears: the network interface had been somehow damaged by the electricity overload created by the lighting.

At the same moment, Aimee asked:

"Do you hear this rumble? It's doesn't sound like thunder..."

The woman never had the chance to finish her sentence: a violent shock, like something huge hitting the vehicle, knocked the Humvee on its right side and rolled it over the muddy ground, making its unfortunate passengers fly all over the place like dices shaken inside a cup. Tim banged his head against the passenger compartment's roof, making him see stars and bite at his own tongue; Roberts was holding on the wheel for dear life; Winter shouted and then remained still; Aimee screamed and got slammed against Tim; the laptop fell to the Humvee's floor but, ironically, the violence of the impact jump-started it: the screen's went back to life and The Watcher's started beeping like crazy, its detection devices 'sensing' the presence of enemies.

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep!

After a few awful seconds, the Humvee's weight stopped the rolling and turning but the vehicle remained upside down, trapping its passengers inside. Tim saw a huge boulder rolling right at them and he screamed in terror while trying to shield Aimee with his arms; the rock smashed into the automobile and the windows broke under the impact, letting in pouring rain and debris. One sharp pebble flew across the compartment and hit Tim in the face, right under his left eye: blood flew from the cut he sustained but McGee was too full of adrenaline to notice it, as well as his twisted right foot.

With horror, he noted Private Winter was inert and covered with blood; Roberts was weakly struggling to get the driver's door open. An acrid smoke could be smelt and Tim realized the Humvee's fuel tank had been damaged in the fall: gas was leaking and the vehicle could explode any minute. He had to get Aimee, Roberts and Winter out of here!

The Watcher kept on blinking on the laptop's screen (BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep!), signaling hostiles nearby. The electronic sound galvanized Tim's courage and he shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Aimee! Aimee!"

"Tim..." gasped the woman – coughing, covered with blood, in shock but with her Beretta in hand, ready to fight.

"Get out of the Humvee! I smell smoke – it's going to explode!"

McGee gave a mighty kick at one of the remaining windows with his damaged foot and groaned from the pain, but thankfully the glass shattered at the first try. Aimee wasted no time crying or arguing; instead, she crawled to freedom and once she was out of the vehicle, she hid behind one of the still-turning wheels to take a look at their situation.

The other Humvee had stayed on the road but was under heavy fire; in spite of the pouring rain, Aimee could see huddled silhouettes on the mountains' slopes and explosions coming from fired shotguns or grenades being thrown, on top of the booming sounds of the thunderstorm. Sergeant Raff was firing from the opening of the Humvee's roof while Spikerman, Fredericks and Emerson had gotten out of the vehicle to fire at will at the unknown assailants. Aimee realized with horror that huge blocks of rock had come apart from the mountains and rolled down the slopes before crashing down in the valley; one boulder had hit their Humvee, knocking it off the road and sending it in a riverbed, which flood was increasing stealthily from the downpour coming from the skies.

And Tim had been right: the Humvee's fuel tank had been torn open from the accident and the chassis was in flames; with the gas leaking from the damaged reservoir, it would be a matter of minutes before the Humvee would entirely caught fire before exploding.

"Tim! Get out of here!" screamed Aimee; she aimed her Beretta and started firing, as hostile silhouettes were coming closer to Raff's group.

But McGee could not imagine leaving the vehicle without Roberts and Winter; uncaring about the rising flood of water coming inside the Humvee through the broken windows, he twisted his long frame through the passenger's compartment until one of his hands grabbed Winter by the collar, and Roberts by the shoulder. The soldier did not react but Roberts moaned weakly:

"W-What...?"

"Roberts, let go of the wheel! I have to get you out of here!"

"W-What? N-No! Hafta... drive ya... ta safety..."

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep!

"Roberts, the Humvee is totaled!" yelled Tim, realizing the Corporal was suffering from shock and probably from a bad case of tinnitus: ear ringing was not uncommon during car crashes, making communication with victims difficult. "Let go of the wheel, I'm going to drag you and Winter out! Hurry up, we're under attack!"

"N-No... Got my... orders..."

"Corporal, for crying out loud!" roared Tim, pulling hard at Winter's blouse and Roberts' shoulder to get both men out of the damaged vehicle. Winter was a dead weight but, thankfully, his legs were not trapped under his seat and his body came easily. But for Roberts, it was another story: the dazed Corporal simply refused to release his grip on the wheel; Tim glanced at his laptop, which was still functioning in spite of the flowing water, and looked in despair at the screen which was deploying a map of hostiles coming closer by the minute: The Watcher had detected a dozen of attackers armed with Jezail guns, grenades, automatic weapons? But that was enough firepower to destroy both Humvees!

Tim never hesitated: he raised his fist and punched Roberts on the head, making the Corporal lose consciousness for the second time in less than a minute. Aimee, who had taken cover behind a boulder, at a safe distance from the overturned vehicle, let out a breath of relief at the sight of Tim's long legs coming out of a broken window, then his whole body but her eyes widened in surprise as she saw her lover dragging out of the vehicle the inert bodies of their fallen comrades-in-arms.

She should have known: her Tim was not the kind to leave two soldiers trapped inside in a vehicle to die either by fire or drowned in a river bed, just to save his own skin!

"Tim! Over here!" called the doctor, gesturing to McGee to come near her.

Tim grimaced slightly as the boulder Aimee was hiding behind was way too little to protect four persons, two of them wounded, but staying in the vicinity of the burning Humvee was out of the question and the river's level was steadily rising, thanks to the torrents' wild water coming from the mountains to fall in the valley. Grunting from the effort, his foot aching inside his combat boots and his drenched uniform weighting on his body, Tim dragged Roberts and Winter across the ground to finally collapse near the doctor, hunching behind the small wall of rock that provided little protection.

"Tim! You've saved them!" exclaimed Aimee.

"Take a look at Roberts and Winter, will you? I'll cover you!" shot Tim back, getting his SIG Sauer from out of his belt.

Aimee had lost her bag in the crash but she always had medical supplies stashed in the pockets of her uniform and her combat belt, so she wasted no time in assessing the damage: Roberts had a severe concussion, judging from his unequal pupils, and he was drifting in and out of consciousness as wordless sounds were coming from out of his lips. But Winter was the most grievously hit: blood was pouring from wounds on his face, neck, shoulder and back; he was as pale as a ghost and being dragged on a hard ground could have worsened his injuries.

Tim glanced at the two wounded and inwardly prayed that Roberts and Winter would come out of this mess alive, but then his attention was drawn back to the fight ahead of them. Raff, Emerson, Fredericks and Spikerman were locked in a desperate struggle against the enemy, who had a better knowledge of the area and was used to fights in any given situation, including sky-breaking thunderstorms. They would hide behind rocks, bushes, nooks and crannies when lightning illuminated the clouds, and then take advantage of the ear-splitting thunder to throw grenades at the automobiles, in an effort to overwhelm the preys who could not distinguish the harmless sounds of thunder from the destruction made by the explosives until it would be too late.

In spite of the raindrops falling relentlessly on his face, Tim aimed his SIG Sauer and shot at a silhouette coming too at Emerson and Fredericks; the aggressor fell backwards in a blur of robes, his shotgun falling from his hand. Another round fired from Tim's gun stopped a man from throwing a grenade at Raff's Humvee: the device rolled on the mountain's slope like a snowball and exploded, killing two enemies.

A bullet flying too close forced McGee to take cover behind the boulder.

"Do you think Raff had the time to warn the base by radio?" he yelled at Aimee.

"Yes! But air cover won't be available in this weather!" retorted the woman back while trying to calm Roberts down – dizzy by the car crash, the Corporal was still trying to turn an absent wheel between his hands, making the tending to his wounds difficult.

Tim made a grimace: their situation was dire, indeed. No air cover, no possible evacuation by helicopter for the wounded and their only chance to 'detect' the enemy had been left inside a wrecked Humvee. And yet, in spite of the distance and the curtain of rain, Tim could see a small white light blinking inside the demolished passenger's compartment and the faint sound (BeepBeepBeepBeep!) of The Watcher at work. The river's waters had not yet reached the laptop and the program was still running; in other circumstances, Tim would have been proud of his work.

Suddenly, Aimee screamed: "NO!" as a brilliant flash of light coming from a RPG-7 anti-tank rocket-propelled grenade launcher flew from the mountains and hit Raff's Humvee. The vehicle exploded in millions of debris, sending Fredericks, Spikerman and Emerson flying through the air but the Sergeant died instantly, the automobile turning into a sad funeral pyre made of twisted metal and burning fuel.

"Oh, God..." whispered Aimee. Tim suddenly heard roars of anger coming from their attackers. His knowledge of the Pashto language was recent but, thanks to Ducky's notes and the information handbook he had received on his first day at ISAF, he could recognize the dialect shouted by the enemies; his green eyes widened in shock as he recognized some of the words:

[Stupid... Idiot... told you to shoot?... Maybe... have killed the lord!... Where is he?]

"The lord?" repeated Tim, stunned by what his ears had picked.

"What?" whispered Aimee.

"The enemies are talking about a lord... Somebody's important, who is supposedly amongst us!"

"You understand what they're saying?"

"Just a few words," mumbled Tim, trying to take a peek from over the boulder. The violent light produced by the blaze allowed him to see the inert forms of Spikerman, Fredericks and Emerson lying on the ground, grievously wounded or worse. A man, dressed in dark robes and looking burlier than the others, was violently shaking by the scruff of the neck a smaller man holding a fuming RPG-7. The other attackers were obviously arguing with one another, torn between calming down the conflict within their ranks and lynching the wounded American soldiers. Tim tried to understand some more words but the deafening sounds of the thunderstorm made hearing difficult.

"What do you think? Did they imagine we were escorting a local bigwig, and that's the reason why they attacked us?" asked Aimee.

"I really don't know... But there's a guy out here, and he's the boss. I'll try to bring him down," said Tim, aiming at the burly guy. He fired a round but his target got somehow warned and roughly pushed the RPG-shooter in the line of fire before disappearing behind a bush.

"Damn! I missed him!" growled Tim, furious about his failure.

"Tim, we have to help the others!" said Aimee.

"But enemies will shoot at us as soon as we leave cover!"

At the same moment, hostiles started to shout again; Tim risked a glance from over the boulder and heard the big guy's voice vociferating from his hiding place:

[Find him!... Bring him... Lord with computer! Take him... alive!]

Tim's heart turned to lead; a lord with a computer, what in the world kind of nonsense was that? No, it could not be... But he was the only one in the convoy who had a laptop, so... The enemies had attacked the convoy because of him? They had shot at his friends, killed Sergeant Raff, just because of a kidnapping attempt targeting him?

(BeepBeepBeepBeep!)

And then, realization made McGee turn as pale as a ghost.

The Watcher!

Stephenson had warned Tim about shadowy people lurking about ISAF, always trying to find out lucrative secrets to sell to the highest bidder. The General had mentioned the CIA, other branches of the army but also local spies who would jump on the tiniest scrap of information to present it to tribesmen for favors. Somehow, someone had learned about the computer program in spite of the secrecy and had ratted McGee out; Tim's first reaction would have been to refuse this idea but the attack was proof enough that enemies had learned about The Watcher and, most importantly, about its handler, the brains behind Stephenson's special project to protect American soldiers!

It was useless denying it; arguing would only waste precious seconds of time. Enemies got wind of The Watcher and were determined to get their paws on it at all costs.

Tim never hesitated; he turned around, pointed his handgun at their wrecked Humvee and aimed at the blinking screen of his laptop, with The Watcher valiantly detecting and beeping in spite of the water nearly reaching its case.

"Sorry, buddy," thought Tim as he fired his weapon. The bullet hit its target dead on, making the laptop's screen explode on impact and The Watcher let out one last Beep before quieting forever. The shot ran through the screen and ended in a pool of gas, igniting it: flames erupted instantly and the computer started to burn, its components melting under the heat in a crackle of plastic mixed with metal. Tim had no idea if they were going to survive the attack but, at least, The Watcher would not fall into the wrong hands.

The enemies roared again in anger; they were probably thinking about preys still trapped inside the Humvee and who would burn alive, depriving them of a potential booty. But the burly man was shouting louder than the others, prompting Tim to listen carefully:

[No, fool! No!]

Glancing behind the boulder, Tim saw with horror the RPG-wielder aiming his weapon right at them with a maniacal look on his face; the boss-man was gesturing to make him stop, but to no avail.

"Aimee! WATCH OUT!" shouted Tim. He made the movement to shield the doctor's body with his own but the warhead impacted in the burning Humvee, making it explode in a ball of fire sending shards of metal everywhere.

The violence of the shockwave made Tim fly in the air; he landed roughly several feet apart from Aimee and nearly passed out. He saw blinding flashing lights which neither came from the thunderstorm nor guns and his eyes were completely out of focus. He gasped and wheezed, fought for regaining his breath but his lungs seemed to have forgotten their basic functions. His hearing faded and was replaced by a bad case of tinnitus as well, making him hear only a high-pitching sound which muffled everything else. Completely disorientated, Tim did not even notice he had been wounded by shrapnel and blood was running down from his scalp, arms and legs. His bullet-proof vest had protected his vital organs but the exploding vehicle had acted like a bomb, wounding every poor soul in its vicinity and that was precisely what the maniacal RPG-wielder had wanted.

It was when bullets hit the rocky ground nearby him that Tim began to regain his bearings. He gasped as his lungs filled themselves with smoke, causing him to cough painfully. Even without his hearing, he could feel people scurrying about, guns being fired and the heat from the inferno on his face, drying raindrops and blood strains. A long moment passed before he could remember where he was but a terrible sight made him froze in horror: enemies were standing just a few feet from Roberts and Winter. The soldier was still unconscious but the Corporal was still weakly moving his hands in a turning motion, prompting one tribesman to point his automatic weapon at Roberts, fearing the wounded man would be somehow of a threat.

Tim suddenly realized he was still holding his SIG Sauer in his hand. He aimed, fired and a hail of bullets stopped the enemy from killing Roberts. Startled by the sudden resistance, hostiles retreated in a panic; Tim rolled on his side, his arm still extended, ready to fire at anyone trying to hurt Winter, Roberts or... Aimee?

Aimee?

A movement on the ground made McGee freeze: Captain Wilkins was trying to get on her knees, her limbs aching as a woman's plagued with arthritis. Her crumpled form had been shielded from enemy's view by the heavy smoke coming from the burning Humvee but her struggles could warn hostiles of her presence. Tim opened his mouth to shout, to tell Aimee to stay low and stop moving, but only a feeble croaking sound came out of his throat, coupled with another coughing fit. Aimee finally managed to stand on her knees but her empty eyes and vacant expression scared Tim; she no longer looked like the lively woman he had come to know and love. She just stood still, her eyes on the ground, a statue covered with blood and grim kneeling in the middle of a battlefield and apparently indifferent to the danger so close.

"Aimee... (cough! cough!) Aimee!" croaked Tim. His loved one was in danger; she was apparently suffering from shell shock, she had lost her weapon in the blast and she would not be able to oppose any resistance in front of hostiles. Winter and Roberts were out of commission and McGee had no idea of what had happened to the other members of his group. He had to rescue her!

At the same time, Aimee looked at Tim with the saddest smile on her face. The young man suddenly realized he had been mistaken: she had not been staring at the ground but at something... sharp, exiting from out of her throat... A piece of shrapnel had run right through her neck like a knife, severing her jugular veins. Aimee's face was livid from the pain; her combat blouse and bullet-proof vest had turned dark from the fatal blood loss; she tried to say something in spite of her grievous wounds, but only managed to mouth the word 'Beloved' before a gush of blood came out of her mouth. Her eyes rolled in their sockets and she fell on the ground like a rag doll, the piece of shrapnel still firmly embedded in her neck.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" roared Tim, his heart shattering into a million fragments at the death of the courageous Captain. He tried to rush towards her but his traitorous limbs would not obey, making him collapse on the ground. Yelps of anger were suddenly heard and Tim found himself writhing on the ground, surrounded by hostiles and nearly asphyxiated by the smoke coming from the Humvee. He aimed his Sauer and fired through the dark fumes, succumbing to the madness and the pain of Aimee's death.

"Bastards! Bastards! Aimee, you killed Aimee!" tried to shout Tim, his bullets flying at random. He thought he heard a man screaming somewhere but, in his delirious state, Tim could not care less. He emptied his handgun's magazine while cursing his enemies, wanting to avenge his lover's death and his companions', hating the whole world and the hostiles and the thunderstorm and the war and everything else. His cries of pain made him miss the Pashto words coming from the burly man:

[That's him!... The lord... Take him... alive!]

The SIG Sauer's firing destruction ended with a sharp click coming from the bullets' magazine: Tim had run out of ammunitions. At the same moment, something poked him hard in the ribs; in spite of his dazed and wounded state, the young man reached under his bullet-proof vest and grabbed the knife tucked beneath it.

The Dark Dove sprang to life and Tim lashed out at a man coming too close to him: the blade hit the hostile straight in the leg, just like for Sergeant Miller in the showers' room. Ignoring the cries of pain, McGee somehow got on his feet and charged at the attackers with an animalistic roar. The Dark Dove's next victim was the RPG-shooter: the knife slashed at the man's face, cutting through his unkempt beard and whipping off the sadistic smile. The maniac let go of his shoulder-launched weapon and cried out like a baby, outraged that someone had dared to attack him.

[Fools!... Take him!]

Tim lashed at everything: shadows, smoke, bodies; his mind had been destroyed by the pain of having lost Aimee and all he had left was a killing frenzy, fueled by his broken heart and the outrage he felt. With his uncoordinated movements, his face covered with blood and the Dark Dove in hand, fighting in the middle of a fire, he looked like an avenging angel resolved in exterminating anyone who had caused the death of his woman.

A burly figure showed up just in front of Tim and the young man recognized the boss-man shouting orders. He raised his arm to strike but pain suddenly exploded inside his skull, making him fall hard on the ground. All his remaining strength left him and The Dark Dove slipped from his fingers, bouncing twice before landing between two rocks.

"Shit!" exclaimed the boss-man in a very American English, and then he shouted in Pashto [NO!... Said... alive!]

Tim could not move any longer. Overwhelming pain seized him and the wounds he had sustained were paralyzing his limbs; it would be a matter of seconds before the enemies would kill him or, worse, take him.

All of a sudden, a poem came out of his massacred brains with an absurd clarity:

When you're wounded an' left on Afghanistan's plains

An' the women come out to cut up your remains

Jus' roll to your rifle an' blow out your brains

An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.

But Tim did not have this last option: he had no gun, no ammunitions left. He was wounded, lost in the Afghan mountains and entirely at the mercy of victorious hostiles. No one, not even General Stephenson, could help him; he had lost Aimee; The Watcher was burning inside the remnants of a Humvee set ablaze by an RPG warhead; all his team members had been killed; he was cold, broken and doomed. A solitary tear escaped from his emerald-colored eyes and got mixed with the rain pouring down on his face as he sent one last thought to his relatives, his friends, all the persons he had loved in his life.

I'm sorry...

But just as he was surrendering to despair, McGee saw the Dark Dove lying nearby him, soaked by the unforgiving and endless rain. A thunderbolt illuminated the skies and, for the briefest instant, Tim saw the blade shining in a strange light, like a spark of hope against all odds.

Darkness claimed Tim but the young man mumbled a name before rough hands grabbed him and drag him away from the battlefield:

"Ziva..."

TBC...