Captain Quincy's Marine unit took the sample and sent the basic chemical breakdown to Washington so that Abby could do her thing. And Jethro and Ziva once again found themselves playing the waiting game.
He and Ziva ended up having both Kinah and Lala accompany them down to the chow hall for dinner. The food wasn't five-star restaurant quality, but it was fine. It kept you fed. Lunch and dinner could be a little hit and miss sometimes, but that night ended up being really good. Still, years of experience had taught Jethro that, for his money, mid-rats was always the best meal, followed closely by breakfast.
Funnily enough, Jethro's son-in-law ended up coming in from the field that evening, so their paths briefly crossed in the chow line. It was good to see Michael doing well.
Ziva spent a lot of the evening playing with the girls and Jethro ended up joining in for some of it as well, picking up a couple of words in Pashto during that time. Both of the girls decided that it would be fun to teach him and start quizzing him a bit.
Neither girls were up particularly late though, the both of them needing the rest, so he and Ziva had some time to themselves, just prattling on in their tent and waiting on an update from Abby which Jethro blessedly woke up to at 0630 that Sunday.
Abby, obviously, had to work off of what the Marine unit had done locally, but the goth had been able to determine that the oil was from a very specific area. And since there was no oil where the two girls were found, it was likely that First Lieutenant Flores was being held in the area, drastically narrowing their search.
After chow that morning, they looked into some intel and then all sat down for one last chalk talk and headed to a small village along the Afghan pipeline where intel said that the first lieutenant was currently being held.
And the rescue operation commenced.
"Extraction team in place," the director said through the earwig. "Zero hour."
"That's what they call it," SecNav Jarvis replied, clearly a bit anxious about everything that was about to go down. "I'd like to take this time to wish everyone luck."
The commandant spoke up. "Luck's for the unprepared, Mr. Secretary."
"Well," SecNav Jarvis said, "I'd rather have it than not, General."
"Game on," the director said. "Scopes and helmet cams."
Jethro tried to tune out the earwigs and to focus on the present as the platoon started to move in. He, Ziva, and Captain Quincy all stopped behind a vehicle for cover while their corpsman and the rest of the Marines moved on to take cover elsewhere.
"Air support's on standby," the captain told them both. "Thermals indicate five people. The one on the ground's probably Flores."
"Okay," he said. "Let's do this."
They came out of cover, weapons raised, and started their approach. The team started taking heavy fire and Captain Quincy went down. Jethro moved to tend to the captain while the rest of the Marines advanced.
Ziva provided cover. "Corpsman!"
He turned to the platoon. "Go! Go! Go!" He quickly assessed the situation. "Pressure." Jethro helped the injured man places his hand on the gunshot wood. He then took off his desert scarf and placed it on the aforementioned wound, hoping it would help slow the bleeding while Jethro waited on the corpsman to arrive. The captain was struggling to breathe already as it was. "You hang in there, Marine."
Finally, the corpsman got there. "I got him, sir. Keep breathing, Captain."
Jethro approached Ziva who had been providing him cover and the pair advanced, still under heavy fire. Eventually, they managed to get the situation under control enough that Jethro went on ahead and finally approached their target.
Jethro switched his rifle for his sidearm and then kicked in the front door of the rather tattered building. First Lieutenant Flores was inside, alive, but being held at gunpoint by Soraya Zoranj.
"That's her," the director confirmed over the earwigs.
"Lieutenant?" he asked.
The first lieutenant spoke cooly. "Fine, Sir."
Jethro turned his attention to Soraya. "Your call." Ziva entered and aimed her own rifle at Soraya as well. "Give me a reason. So what's it gonna be?" Jethro quirked a brow. "Feed you to the locals, lifetime at Gitmo, or you die right here?"
Soraya let go of the first lieutenant and dropped to her knees. The woman then pulled her burka down and Jethro cuffed her. "Don't you say a word."
The Marines lead Soraya away and he made sure to call for a medevac for the captain before walking over to Captain Quincy who was on the ground shaking and clearly not doing well. "How am I doing?"
"You're doing great, Captain!" Ziva told the man. "Just hold on."
"We're gonna need three litres of O-neg," the corpsman proceeded to inform them. "I gotta get him lidocaine. Anybody call for medevac?"
He gave a curt nod and fought to keep his voice steady. "It's on the way."
The corpsman nodded and turned to Ziva who was visibly struggling with the situation they were in. She wasn't the only one. "Ma'am, I can take it from here. Step back."
The captain struggled to get a plea out. "Don't go, David."
"I'm not leaving you," Ziva assured him.
The corpsman. "Ma'am, I need you to please…"
"I said I am not leaving!" Ziva snapped - something that Jethro had rarely seen in all of the time that he'd known the young woman. Ziva's expression softened as she turned back to the captain. "You look at me, Captain. Look at me. That's right."
"My mom and dad," the captain said. "Tell them... I'm sorry."
"Where are they?" Ziva asked. "What are their names? Come on. Stay with me."
"Maryland," the captain struggled to get out. "They own a small motel on the bay. You have to tell them... I love them."
"I promise I will," Ziva told the dying man. "I promise I will tell them everything." The captain took his last breath and Ziva sagged. Jethro heard the helicopter approach, too little too late. "We'll get you home."
Jethro wanted to say something to comfort Ziva but couldn't seem to think of a damn thing that would actually help and didn't sound pathetically shallow. Some platitudes were absolutely meaningless and did more harm than good, something that Jethro knew from a lot of experience over the years.
So, Jethro kept his own counsel and tried to give Ziva a reassuring look.
They dealt with the fallout and headed back to Camp Leatherneck, getting cleaned up some, and getting First Lieutenant Flores some medical attention. Once the corpsman cleared her, Jethro joined her in one of the tents for a little discussion.
He placed a water bottle down in front of her. "Drink."
Flores glanced up at him. "I have been, Sir."
"Well," he said, "drink some more." He took a seat in the chair right beside her. "There are some folks happy to hear you're alive, Lieutenant."
She gave a curt nod. "I know."
"Your dad's pretty happy too," he said.
"I'm anxious to see him," she replied.
"Yeah," he said, "I bet you are."
"Quincy, Sir..." Jethro recognized the look in her eyes. Survivor's guilt. "He wouldn't be dead if I hadn't... if I hadn't..."
"Quincy died doing his job, Flores. He was your commanding officer." Jethro gave the young woman a pointed look. "That made you his responsibility." Jethro gave that a moment to sink in before he continued to address her. "Why'd you do it? Running off with the kids, disobeying orders."
"I didn't have a choice," Flores replied matter-of-factly. "I knew what would happen to those girls. If I had to do it again..."
"You would," he finished knowingly.
Flores nodded her head. "Yes, Sir."
"People died because of that teacher," he pressed after a moment. "What do you think should happen to her?"
"Sir," she said, "that's not my decision."
"No," he agreed. "But you've thought about it, right?"
Flores nodded her head. "She should be held accountable for her crimes."
"How?" he questioned.
Flores took a second to collect herself before finally speaking. "She should watch those girls change the world in positive ways she never imagined."
"That a punishment?" he pressed.
"That's a gift, Sir!" Flores countered. instantly correcting him. "Punishment is knowing she could have done the same."
Jethro smiled and then shook his head. "You're rare, Flores." He then gestured for the young woman to follow him. "Come on. Let's go home."
