Harsh Realities

Before McGee even reached the cockpit, he knew.

If he'd had a chance to really think about it, he would have admitted that maybe he was developing some of that famous gut instinct that Gibbs was gifted with.

But at the time, maybe it was his other senses. Those five senses that he had learned about as a young boy, in elementary school. The five senses that he knew for absolute scientific fact he had.

It was, in part, the silence. The eerie lack of sound. There was no voice coming from the pilot's area. No moans of pain, or sounds of movement, or cries for help, as the pilot struggled to extricate himself from the wrecked plane.

But what had clinched the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, was the smell. Mingling with the acrid stench of everything else, almost overwhelming it, was a horrifyingly familiar heavy metallic odour.

McGee knew well enough by now, had been to enough crime scenes, to recognize that smell.

Blood, and lots of it.

He swallowed hard as he looked in.

The gash from flying windshield glass had gone deep, and the deadly chunk remained lodged in the pilot's throat. McGee didn't know how long it had taken the man to bleed out, and wondered if the shock had killed him first. But, he knew that in either case, it didn't matter now. He sighed and turned away. There was nothing he could do for him now, and they still had two of their people to find.

…………………………………………………………

Abby suddenly blinked back to reality, and stared at the floor, almost in disbelief. She turned as she heard the lab doors open, and watched as Gibbs walked casually into the lab.

"Abs, what the hell happened?" he asked, suddenly worried, as he saw the shattered jar on the floor.

Abby looked at him, almost guiltily. "Jar slipped," she said, weakly.

Gibbs knew better, though. Abby was like a daughter to him, and he knew her almost as well as he knew himself. "Bull," he stated flatly. "Something's wrong, Abby."

She nodded, and gazed up at him, her green eyes filled with fear. "I just got this really hinky feeling, Gibbs. I don't know why. Something's really really wrong."

"You get hinky feelings all the time, Abs. Sometimes you're just overreacting." Abby just shrugged her shoulders. "This was different, Gibbs. I wish I could tell you more." She turned away from him suddenly, and reached out for the countertop as her head began to spin. "Call Jasmine please?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Gibbs blinked. McGee's sister, and Palmer's girlfriend? He had no idea why Abby suddenly wanted him to call Jasmine McGee. But he suddenly became aware, at her words, of a hinky feeling forming in his own gut.

There could only be one reason why Abby would want Jaz contacted.

McGee and Palmer were together, along with Tony and Ziva. On a plane, en route back to Washington, D.C.

"I'm on it, Abby," he said softly, as he reached over and kissed her temple in that paternal way he had with her. Abby took a ragged breath. "Thanks," she said weakly.