The air was sluggish and humid as a storm threatened to break. Tony lay on the ground, sweating profusely from the heat and the fever he was developing. He was roused from his restless sleep by hands rolling him roughly onto his back. He opened his eyes in panic, struggling against the hands holding him down. His shirt was once more torn open and the bloody bandages were removed from his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
Raul approached the agent, a large knife in his hand. "Hold him still," he said roughly. "Hernandez will have my head if I accidentally kill him."
Tony screamed in pain as the large man dug into his shoulder, searching for the bullet that was lodged there. Raul continued to probe, oblivious to the cries from his 'patient'. The other man watched and laughed at the suffering inflicted upon the helpless agent. Finally, Raul loosened the muscle that surrounded the bullet. He reached in with his fingers and tried to grasp the object, but it was slick with blood and he was unable to get a firm grip on it. Swearing to himself, he took the knife and tried to pry the bullet from its resting place.
Tony's eyes rolled back in his head as he started to slip into oblivion. Once more, Raul reached into the hole he had created in Tony's shoulder and managed to pull the bullet out. He then poured some whiskey into the open wound, eliciting a low moan from the semi-conscious man. Raul replaced the rough bandaging to the wound and left the agent lying on the ground.
Less than twelve hours after Gibbs was visited by his former team in Mexico, he, Ziva, Ducky and a pale, bandaged McGee were meeting in a hangar on a small airstrip in Paraguay. A map was spread out on a table and the four were bent over it, discussing their plans to rescue one of their own.
"Eitan said the 'banditos' are camped here." Ziva pointed to a spot on the map five kilometers away. "He'll meet us in the clearing over here," she said, pointing to another spot. "We should get there by nightfall. He'll brief us on the situation."
Gibbs was checking the weapons McGee had secured for them, pleased that the young agent, foreseeing every possibility, had assembled a wide variety of arms from handguns to a grenade launcher. He had also gathered together basic medical supplies for Ducky, who was inspecting the medical kit approvingly.
"Excellent work, Timothy," said Ducky, patting McGee on the shoulder. "I should be able to stabilize Tony's condition, if need be, with no problem."
"This is an impressive array of weapons you have here," agreed Gibbs. "With strategic placement of personnel we should be able to overwhelm the captors and get Tony out."
Ziva looked concerned. "We may have to carry him out, or at the very least, support him."
"We'll manage," replied Gibbs, grimly.
"Timothy has procured a portable stretcher for us," said Ducky. "It will make carrying him much easier."
"What do you need me to do, Boss... I mean, Gibbs?" asked McGee, expectantly.
Gibbs smiled at the slip of the tongue. "I need you to stay here and have the pilot ready to take off the minute we get here. We might be pursued, we'll need to move fast."
McGee's face fell. "I was hoping to help in the actual rescue," he said, hesitantly.
"You're still not 100 percent," replied Gibbs. "I don't want you having a dizzy spell and getting yourself, or someone else, killed." Smiling to soften his words, he put his hand on McGee's shoulder. "You've pulled together some vital resources for us, Tim. The chances of a successful mission are higher because of that. We need you to be ready for the final step. Can you do that?"
Nodding, McGee said, "I can do that. I just..." He hesitated before continuing, "I just need to see Tony alive."
"We all do, Tim," replied Gibbs. He swung the strap of a rifle over his shoulder and turned toward Ziva.
"You know what you need to do?" he said to the deceptively petite woman.
Ziva tested the weight of one of the automatic rifles, hefting it in her hands. She looked up at Gibbs and said, "I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to get Tony out of there alive." Her mouth curved into a cruel smile, her eyes bright with anticipation.
Gibbs nodded curtly. Making sure Ducky had the supplies he needed, he headed to the woods. "We'll test the communications once we're out of sight," he called back to McGee.
Once they were in the trees, Gibbs put his hand to the comlink at his throat. "McGee, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear," McGee's voice crackled over the earpiece. Gibbs looked over at Ziva and Ducky, both of whom indicated that their communications devices were working as well.
The three set off for the rendezvous point at a brisk pace.
