Tim flinched as yet another shot chinked off the boulder in front of him. He and Gibbs were crouched behind a large rock, the only shelter in sight aside from their car. As his hands pressed on the cool stone, he marveled at the good fortune that this rock happened to be here, just big enough to protect two men from a shooter intent on doing them harm.

He turned his head and caught sight of a bullet hitting the ground only inches away from Gibbs' cell phone, taken out by a ricocheting bullet. More subtle shifting to ease the cramp in his knees as another bullet reminded him to stay tight to the rock to keep from exposing himself to the assailant's seemingly endless supply of ammo.

"How long do you think we're going to have to stay here, Boss?" McGee tried once again to reach for the phone in his jacket pocket.

"'Til they stop shooting, McGee!"

McGee rolled his eyes at Gibbs, though thankfully his boss' head was turned. Then, for what felt like the zillionth time, his phone began to ring. Of all the days to have it in his inner jacket pocket, why did it have to be the day he'd be pressed up against a rock, praying for his life?

Slowly he began to shift around again, all too aware of the small safe zone the boulder provided. As he brought his right hand up to slip it inside his jacket he felt himself start to lean backward. Quickly he shifted his feet, adjusting his crouch, to keep himself still safely sheltered.

"McGee what are you doing?" Gibbs grabbed him and yanked him back against the rock at the same time a searing pain shot along his left temple.

"Dammit, McGee, you got a death wish or something? Let the phone ring." He felt pressure on the side of his head and then the dizziness washed over him.

"Boss? Don't feel too good." Tim swallowed and tried to figure out what happened. He was sure he'd stayed close enough to their safe haven, he couldn't have been shot.

"Just hang on, you'll be fine." Gibbs' voice sounded very far away for as close as Tim knew the man to be. He tried to do as he was told, feeling oddly detached as he rested his forehead on the rough surface in front of him.

"…'m I shot?" He asked the question in a curiously flat voice.

"Nope. Looks like you got sliced by a shard of rock. Lotta blood, McGee."

Tim groaned. Lotta pain, too. He drew in a slow, shaky breath and suddenly realized all was quiet around him. "Hey. No more shooting," he said weakly.

"Here, hold pressure on this. I'm going to check—" Gibbs was interrupted by the sound of sirens.

He felt Gibbs stand slowly next to him and he slumped down to the ground from the crouch he'd been in for nearly fifteen minutes. Keeping pressure on the painful wound, he tried to track the sounds around him, piecing together the activity.

Gibbs kept a close eye on McGee as he called out to the approaching officer. "NCIS, I have a agent down over here!"

"Hold your position and keep your hands where I can see them!" came the answering yell.

"Christ," Gibbs muttered under his breath. He stayed motionless until the officer stepped next to him, gun drawn.

"I have a report of a shooting at this location." He glanced at the ground and saw Gibbs' Sig laying near his feet. "Is that your weapon?"

"Yes. It hasn't been fired. My partner needs medical attention, now!" He gestured to McGee, who was looking decidedly pale.

Over his shoulder, the cop yelled to an unseen partner of his own, "Yo, Smithers! Get an ambulance out here!" Then he turned back toward Gibbs. "You got some ID, NCIS?"

He nodded and with two fingers opened his jacket to expose the inner pocket. "Inside pocket."

The cop – Reede, according to his nametag – reached in and pulled out Gibbs' badge wallet. After examining the badge and ID thoroughly, Reede handed back the wallet and motioned for Gibbs to pick up his weapon.

"What happened here, Agent Gibbs?"

"We were lured into a trap." Gibbs gave a brief explanation of the evidence and map they were sent, and ended with their exit from the car. "We had made it maybe ten feet when the shooting began. We were closer to this rock at that point so…" he trailed off and shrugged.

"And you have no idea who was shooting at you?"

Gibbs was spared from answering as the sirens announced the arrival of an ambulance. EMTs hustled over to tend to McGee while Gibbs, Reede and Officer Smithers looked on.

While the technicians worked, Smithers turned to her partner. "Looks like there are tire tracks leading away from here out to the old logging road. Must be how your shooter got away.

Gibbs swore silently. "Can I go check out that house? I need to know whether or not there really is a kidnapping victim inside or not."

Reede and Smithers exchanged a glance. "We'll go with you, Agent Gibbs." Officer Reede led the way toward the farmhouse.

The three of them didn't have to look far. One glance in the window showed the body on the floor.

"That the man you're looking for?" Smithers asked.

Gibbs nodded as he pulled on gloves and tried the door, only to find it locked.

"Well, at least you found the guy," commented Reede as Officer Smithers found an open window at the end of the porch and slipped inside. Gibbs glared at the insensitive cop, then pointedly turned away from him.

As Smithers opened the door for Gibbs, Reede called in the crime scene, requesting that NCIS be notified so their people could send out a team. Gibbs stepped over to the body and noticed a folded piece of paper sticking out of the jacket.

Pulling out his pocket camera, Gibbs began flashing the scene and the location of the note in particular. Then he carefully slid paper out and opened it.

It was too late for Michaelson.
It's not too late for you.
Stay out of it or next time the shots won't miss.