Still in the Dark
Shellie Williams
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the places of NCIS. No money or other profit was made from this fanfiction.
A/N and Summary: Hang onto your hats, folks! This one is actually 11 pages long! Explosions, terrorist, gunfire, Tony and McGee injuries – what more could a gal ask for? One-shot.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
A few steps ahead of McGee, Tony grinned. "Easy. Star Wars, 1977. Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, or Princess Leia – take your pick."
McGee shook his head. "I'm not playing name that quote, Tony. I really have a bad feeling about this."
"Where's your sense of adventure?"
"Outside, where it's light and I can see."
The huge cave of a warehouse they'd entered had taken them underground and had slowly shrunk down to a maze of tunnels sparsely lit by a few bare bulbs dangling from overhead sockets. Even those had stopped about twenty yards back. And worse, either the tin sheets encasing the structure, or the spider web of power lines above it, were badly distorting the signals of their headsets. Being cut off from Gibbs and the rest of the FBI teams didn't sit well with either agent.
McGee took a cautious step forward, wary of how rickety and spongy the boards felt beneath his shoes. The suggestion to stop and backtrack pushed its way up his throat. He opened his mouth about the same time that he ran into the back of Tony.
"Watch it, Probie."
"Sorry. Give me a signal or something next time."
"Like you can see my hand any better than you can see me?"
Darkness hid the lines of irritation that crossed McGee's face. How did Tony always make him feel as if he were a kid brother tagging along for the ride?
"Why'd you --?"
"Shh!" In his mind, McGee saw Tony raise a hand for caution. "I hear something."
The quiet warning was all he got before McGee found himself roughly pushed backward. Grappling for a hold and struggling to keep from tripping over Tony, he finally managed to turn around and head back the way they had come.
Bright orange and yellow, then darkness blacker than night exploded behind and around them. The wooden floor creaked and groaned eerily. Planks snapped with such abruptness that McGee didn't have time to draw breath for a shout. Lights exploded in his head when he crashed against something hard, but it gave way, too. His consciousness faded as he fell through space.
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An explosion ripped through one corner of the old warehouse. Gibbs instinctively ducked, mentally calculating from the radius of the blast that it probably originated from underground. FBI teams, scattered through the area, dove for cover.
The boom died away as Gibbs lifted his head. Shredded tin sheets fluttered like helicopter blades to the ground. The air seemed thick with smoke and wooden splinters.
Squinting, coughing to clear his throat, Gibbs saw two men run hunched-back from the ruined building.
"Ziva! Nine o'clock!"
She glanced in that direction and then back at Gibbs.
"Go, go, go!" Signaling two other FBI agents waiting and watching nearby, Gibbs ran, keeping close to the ground, his finger held near his gun's trigger. Fear for Tony and McGee nearly choked him. Every instinct screamed to get inside that building and look for his agents. The quicker he could eliminate the obstacles in his way, the quicker he could help Tony and McGee. He brushed away the haunting voice that whispered they're already dead.
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McGee blinked, trying to remember where he was and why his head hurt so badly. Got up, went to work – flashes of Gibbs answering the call of a possible terrorist meeting, coordinating with other FBI teams, going to the warehouse, and an explosion strobed through his mind. The memory of falling caught painfully at his stomach and he sat up quickly, but regretted it when his head nearly exploded.
"Ow! Stop it, McGee!"
"Tony?" Squinting through the throbbing in his head, he began patting the ground and easily recognized the shape of a leg.
"You always move so fast on the first date?"
Despite the irritatingly familiar tease, McGee heard strain in Tony's voice.
"What's --?" Shifting to move closer, McGee froze and bit back a groan. Surges of electric pain streamed jagged and bright through his hip, exacerbating his headache. His fingers shook as he reached to touch the injury.
"You too, huh?"
McGee answered with a groan, relieved to find his leg still attached to his body. "Yeah. Hip, and a killer headache. You?"
"Ankle. Ribs. Knee. That means I win; I have more injuries than you."
McGee sighed with long suffering patience. "It's not a competition, Tony."
"But if it was, I'd win."
Weakness in the voice was the only thing that kept McGee from biting back. He didn't know how he did it, but he often found himself in a 'did not – did too – did not – did too' endless argument with Tony. He didn't have an older brother growing up, but if he did, he figured it would be close to the daily torture he suffered through with Tony.
"Yeah, you win, Tony." Bracing himself against the pain he knew movement would produce, he began scooting closer to his partner. "Now let's see how big your lead is."
"Never mind, just see if you can find a way out of here."
Okay. Was Tony downplaying his injuries because there were no females present, or because he really wasn't hurt that bad? Deciding to hold off on that revelation until they'd actually made it back to ground level, McGee reached for a hold and pulled himself up. Big mistake. He leaned back against the jagged edges of ruined and broken wall behind him and breathed through the sudden onslaught of nausea rolling through his gut.
"McGee?"
He heard the concern in Tony's question, but knew without a doubt that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn't like what would come out. Tony seemed to figure it out, because he waited silently for McGee to answer.
Finally, McGee took a breath and muttered, "J-just a sec."
"Take your time. It's not like we're gonna get out of here in a hurry."
If we get out at all. The unspoken comment whispered through the darkness as clearly as if Tony had said it.
"We'll get out, Tony. Just – just give me a second and I'll see what I can find."
Limping heavily, McGee used the wall for balance and began exploring the dark space. Stopping for a moment, he listened. A silence so heavy that is seemed to press against his ears surrounded him. No muffled voices, no outside sounds of any kind penetrated the solid blackness he waited in. Remembering his cell phone, he located it by feel and pressed a button to activate it. A cool blue light illuminated his palm and his fingertips. It also clearly displayed the fact that he had no bars on the screen, indicating no service in the area. The blue screen doubled for a second. McGee blinked and watched as it slowly slipped back into one. Attributing the double vision to his head injury, he reached up to gingerly rub his eyes and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Reaching out blindly, McGee touched the wall in front of him. He moved to take a step, but his shins bumped painfully against something rough and unyielding. Tapping like a blind man's cane, he moved his hands cautiously across the surface of the barrier. A picture began forming in his mind, supplied by the information given by his touch: a pile of broken and shredded wooden boards seemed to block the path.
Okay, can't go that way. Let's try the other way.
Turning slowly, wary of losing his balance in the total darkness, McGee began shuffling back toward Tony. Absently, he rubbed his throbbing temples.
"Couldn't find a way out, huh?"
Tony's disembodied voice started McGee. He froze and turned his head, orienting himself to Tony's location. "Not that way, not without a crane or some type of bulldozer."
"No need to try this way."
McGee began to move forward. "Let me –"
"I'm leaning against a pile of fallen beams and boards blocking the path, McGee."
"Oh."
"Face it – we can't get out."
Unused to this pessimistic outlook from Tony, McGee pressed on. "Oh come on, Tony, where's your sense of adventure?"
"Outside, where it's light and I can see."
Not recognizing the echo of their earlier conversation, McGee felt led to correct his partner. "Actually, it's after 8:00, so it should be getting close to sunset and the sky will be –"
"Missing the point, McGee. Outside – that's the operative word."
Sighing, bracing himself carefully against the wall, McGee sank slowly to the floor. He cupped his head with both hands as if cradling it would help the pain go away. "It could be worse, right?"
"Yeah. I could be stuck with Ziva – having already had that enlightening experience, I wouldn't want to go through it again."
"I'm sure Gibbs is looking for us."
"I'm sure he is."
Unable to think of anything to say that Tony wouldn't have a sarcastic reply for, McGee let silence settle in the darkness. His headache quieted into dull throbbing.
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"We can have a couple of bulldozers and a crane here within the hour."
Gibbs shook his head. "Not good enough. Two of my men are trapped in that rubble. I don't want to risk bringing everything down on them."
The demolition crew leader, Chief Keller, that had responded so quickly to Gibbs' call nodded, his lips pressed together in a grim line. "We have equipment that may be able to detect any sounds if your men are able and conscious. But you must realize that with a blast that size, and the age and condition of the building, odds are your men –"
"I don't believe in odds, Chief."
"Gibbs." Ziva joined them, a little breathless and disheveled.
"Do what you can." Turning away from the demolition Chief, Gibbs focused on Ziva. "Give me something."
"The entire group is accounted for –" she fumbled and moved to follow Gibbs as he lost interest and began to walk away. "Ex-except for two, caught in the explosion."
"I'm more interested in the whereabouts of Tony and McGee right now, Ziva."
"That's what I was about to tell you."
Gibbs stopped suddenly, but Ziva was ready for his reaction and managed not to slide ahead. Gray brows pulled together over intense blue eyes. Tense waiting pulled the lines of Gibbs' body into fierce focus.
"There may be a back way in."
"Show me."
Ziva knew better than to wait. Looking around quickly to orient herself, she moved north in a diagonal line across the front of the warehouse, heading for the sparse copse of trees nearby.
Behind them, the rumbling of arriving bulldozers and machinery vibrated through the ground.
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"Do you feel that?" McGee sat up, trying to decide if he'd imagined the slight movement he'd felt with his palms pressed to the ground. His head felt better.
"Feel what?"
"I don't know – some kind of movement underground or something."
"You're imaging things, McGee."
Slightly exasperated with Tony's dark mood, McGee sighed heavily. "Don't you want to get out of here?"
"Of course I do, but there's not much I can do about it right now, is there?"
Shaking his head McGee shifted closer to Tony. "How's your ankle?"
"Sore."
McGee found a foot and patted gently against the ankle. "Is it this one?"
"No, the other one."
Deciding not to touch it afraid he might cause Tony pain, McGee instead moved closer, guided by Tony's leg. Despite his care, he heard Tony draw in a sharp breath and hiss, as if he were gritting his teeth. "What else is hurt, Tony?"
"The knee you just bumped and my ribs."
"Sorry."
"Never apologize, McGee, it's a sign of weakness."
Wondering if Tony was quoting Gibbs, or just came up with it on his own, McGee shook his head. "We're gonna get out of this."
"How? Neither of us have a light, I know your cell phone doesn't work or you would have used it by now, mine's broken, and unless you've developed some hidden super hero powers I don't know about, nothing's going to get us out of this dark and broken room."
"Gibbs won't stop until he finds us; you know that."
"I know that. But even he can't know our exact location, and from the slight vibrations I've felt through the floor, they've already gotten some heavy equipment working to try and find us."
"You did feel it!" Victory felt good.
"Yeah, I felt it. But all it means is someone's looking for us. One wrong move and this whole place is going to come crashing down on us."
"So we… we let them know we're here."
"How, McGyver?"
McGee sighed and thought about their resources. Two broken or useless cell phones, two guns with full clips, and pretty much nothing else. "I don't know -- I'll think of something."
"Yeah, well, you get us out of this, and I'll owe you pizza and a beer."
"That a promise?" McGee grinned, then thought of something. "Hey, give me your gun."
Even in the dark, McGee could imagine surprise lifting Tony's eyebrows. "It's too early for that, McGee -- there's no need to resort to suicide."
Wishing he could judge where Tony's head was for a good slap, McGee rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I thought I could use the guns to send Gibbs, or whoever may be looking for us, a signal."
"Oh, right." Rustling noises ensued through the darkness, then Tony's hand slapped gently against his arm. "Hold out your hand."
Cool metal pressed against his palm. McGee curled his fingers around the weapon. "Thanks. I'm going to move down this way to send the signals. We were moving south when the explosion hit, and I'm thinking we were heading toward an alternative exit."
"Knock yourself out. Just don't waste all that ammo -- you never know what might be down here in the dark."
Silently thanking Tony for putting that less than reassuring thought in his head, McGee pulled himself up. Favoring his injury, he moved slowly away from Tony. When he'd gone as far as the piles of fallen wall would allow, he lifted the gun above his head and fired a round. It wasn't loud, but it sounded almost as if the bullet were smashing through wood, so maybe he was doing some good after all.
Three bullets later, McGee lowered his arm and carefully made his way back to Tony. Nothing to do now but wait and try again later.
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Gibbs sank to one knee and aimed his flashlight into the maw opening a small hole in the hillside. He couldn't see anything but spider webs and rotten boards. Just a crawl space remained of the old tunnel. "Talk to me, Abby."
"You're looking at the remains of one of the oldest hidden tunnels used during the 1860s for trafficking slaves to freedom from Washington to Philadelphia. Harriet Tubman may have stood right where you are, Gibbs!"
"I'll celebrate later, Abby. Right now I need to know what I'm looking at."
In her lab, Abby studied the screens of blueprints before her. "According to the Map of Public Surveys in the Territory of Washington drawn in 1865, that warehouse covered nearly a half-mile square area near the waterfront. Half of it burned down sometime in the 1870s, though, so this map is pretty much useless."
"Abby --"
Impatience sharpened Gibbs' voice into a thin line. Abby heard the warning and moved on quickly. "But I managed to get my hands on an updated blueprint when a warehouse was rebuilt over the older structure during the turn of the century. Seems either the contractors didn't know or didn't care about the underground maze of tunnels and storerooms."
A muffled sound, almost like a gunshot, snapped Gibbs attention back to the opening. "Abby, be quiet."
"Gosh, Gibbs, I was just getting to the good --"
Gibbs disconnected the call, knowing he'd have to apologize later. The muffled sound repeated, and a few seconds later, another. He turned to Ziva. "Gunshots?"
She nodded. "It could be Tony or McGee, trying to signal us."
Gibbs agreed. "Go back and get Chief Keller over here. Tell him we need some light and some digging equipment. He can shut the bulldozer and crane down for now. Go."
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McGee heard rustling when Tony shifted against the ground. "Are you all right?"
A soft whisper of a groan laced the air. "Ribs are making it a little hard to breathe."
"Are you sitting up?" Scooting closer, McGee patted the air until he found what he hoped was Tony's shoulder. Hair beneath his fingers let him know he'd discovered a head, instead. "Come on, Tony, you need to sit up."
Grasping Tony's upper arm with one hand, and sliding his other arm under Tony's back, McGee helped the injured man sit up. Grunts and groans gushed out of Tony as he shifted back against the wall. "You wouldn't happen to have a pillow anywhere, would you?"
"Fresh out." Relieved to hear humor in Tony's voice again, McGee let go of him and slid his arms out of his own jacket. Pulling the garment off, he bundled it as close to pillow form as he could and began stuffing it between Tony and the wall.
He heard a sigh as Tony leaned back against the cushioning. "Thanks."
"No problem." Grasping his gun, McGee used the wall to pull himself up. "I'm going to try sending a signal again. Will you be all right?"
"Yeah."
McGee walked away into the darkness, feeling his way as before. When he'd gone as far as he could, he lifted the gun and pulled the trigger three times. This time, instead of an answering silence, he heard movement. Raising his head, he blinked and shielded his eyes when dust swirled and danced around. Coughing and moving away, he lifted his head again and saw a rectangle of light appear about twelve feet up. Caution made him press against the wall, but a light beam trapped him and pinned him where he stood. Shading his eyes against the suddenly bright light, he aimed his gun toward the source.
"Planning on shooting your rescuers, McGee?"
He nearly laughed when he heard Gibbs' voice. "No sir!" Lowering his weapon, McGee stood in the light, a broad grin cracking the dirt encrusting his face.
"Where's Tony?"
"Here."
McGee's head whipped to the side as Tony joined him. One hand pressed to aching ribs, using a board as a makeshift crutch, the older man looked all the worse for wear as he squinted into the light.
They both heard the smile in Gibbs' voice. "If you two don't mind keeping each other company just a little while longer, we'll get you out of there real soon."
"We'll do our best." Grinning, pushing his elbow against McGee, Tony lifted his chin toward Gibbs. "I told you he'd find us, McGee. All we had to do was wait."
Was it really worth it? Deciding not to waste his breath, McGee just nodded and slid down the wall to sit and wait. His jacket landed in his lap and he looked up at Tony.
"Thanks, McGee."
Smiling, McGee nodded. "You're welcome."
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The sun was just beginning to color the horizon as paramedics checked Tony and McGee over before loading them into the ambulance. IVs, pressure bandages, icepacks and thermal blankets covered the two agents. Gibbs watched from nearby, smiling to himself when he heard the usual bickering start up between Tony and McGee. The report of nothing broken, only bumps and bruises to worry about had reassured him that his team would be fine. One of the paramedics joined him.
"They're ready for transport, Agent Gibbs."
"I'll meet you at the hospital." Turning to head for his car, Gibbs joined Ziva.
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Two days later at the office, Tony was still arguing. "I did not give up, McGee. That bump to your head must have scrambled your memory, because you've got things all out of order."
"Whatever, Tony." Resigned to Tony never admitting his defeatist attitude while they were trapped, McGee gathered his things to leave for the day.
"Hey."
Picking up his cell phone and keys, McGee turned to Tony.
"Want to go grab a pizza and a beer?"
Yeah, well, you get us out of this, and I'll owe you pizza and a beer.
A grin found its way across McGee's face. "Is this your way of apologizing, Tony?"
McGee figured Tony's answering grin as he pocketed his keys and cell phone was as close to an apology as he'd ever get.
"Do you like pepperoni?"
McGee's grin widened into a smile. He nodded, and they left the office, ignoring Ziva's look of total confusion.
The End
