Coming to once more, Jethro's head was killing him. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the light and he realized he'd woken up in a medical tent.
This wasn't his first rodeo, but it still took him a minute to realize he was in a tent. The first responders had obviously set up a field hospital on site. Jethro glanced around the tent, noting that Abby wasn't in there and that everyone who was was unconscious.
Bickering with the corpsman for a minute, and learning that he'd been unconscious for a couple of hours, Jethro rushed out of the tent and attempted to figure out what had happened to Abby and the rest of his team. He had received a few cuts and bruises as well as a concussion, but Jethro wasn't about to let that slow him down. This was not his first rodeo, after all.
As he began making his way around the severely damaged property, Jethro took in the rather horrifying scene surrounding him. Debris and dead bodies were everywhere, as were the numerous civilian and military first responders who had immediately come on scene after the explosion. His heart ached as he saw Max, the eleven-year-old son of Special Agent Ed Girard, breaking down as his father's body was carried away. Ed had worked for the Cold Case Homicide Unit and Max had been visiting his old man at work as the kid often did when there was a Pro-D Day at school.
Walking around, he finally spotted Abby, stopping in his tracks. He sighed in relief and the pair shared a small smile. Glad that Abby had only received minor injuries and had been seen by a paramedic, Jethro resumed the search for the rest of his team. He still hadn't seen the director or anybody else on his team, though, and, honestly, felt close to throwing up. He needed to know if his team, his work-family, was okay.
A voice from behind him caught his attention. "Gibbs."
Turning around to face the voice, Jethro felt another wave of relief wash over him as he saw Director Vance standing there. "Leon, are you alright?"
"Yeah," the man replied. "It was my car. It was my car."
"Yeah," he agreed.
Before the conversation could go any further, the Secretary of the Navy walked up to the both of them. "Director Vance?"
"Mr. Secretary," Vance greeted.
Secretary Jarvis dipped his head slightly. "Agent Gibbs." SecNav glanced between the both of them. "Casualties?"
"Yes," Vance said, clearly trying to not snap at the question.
"How many?" SecNav asked.
"Enough," Vance said. "There's plenty of damage too."
"The President was just briefed on the situation," Secretary Jarvis informed the both of them. "I'll need details and a plan of action."
Just then one of the Marines involved in the cleanup crew, dawning his cammies and a hard hat, walked up. "Pardon me, Director?"
"Excuse me," Vance said before turning to speak with the Marine in question.
Jethro turned to Secretary Jarvis. "The plan is I find the rest of my team, Sir.".
"Of course," SecNav agreed easily. "FBI and other agencies are coming in, making it a joint effort. We won't stop until we find Dearing." Damn right we won't. "Nobody does this to the United States Navy."
Before Jethro could respond, the director approached them. "So, the building's sound. There's a couple areas that are off-limits, but most of the offices are accessible."
"Good," Secretary Jarvis replied. "Find your people. Make sure they're safe. And then I want this son of a bitch."
Jethro eyed the man. "You and me both."
He headed up to the squad room, which had, unsurprisingly, been seriously damaged. There was paperwork and other debris everywhere. He felt marginally better when he found McGee there, though, who looked shaken but well enough considering the mess that they were in. "Hey, Boss."
"You okay?" he asked, putting his hand on McGee's shoulder.
The younger agent was definitely acting off. "Uh, yeah, I think so. You?"
Jethro heaved a sigh, looking around at all of the damage. He then walked over to his desk, trying to see if the office phones still worked. "Where's Tony and Ziva?"
"Um, elevator." Of all the stupid things…. They had broken protocol and not taken the stairs. Jethro couldn't be too mad, though, as he was too relieved that they were both alright. "Workers are on it."
"Feels really warm in here," McGee said. "Think I'm gonna go get some fresh air."
The younger agent started taking off his suit jacket, Jethro immediately becoming very concerned and walking back over to McGee. "Hey, stop."
McGee looked shocked. "What?"
Jethro pulled back the black suit jacket, revealing the massive chunk of glass that was sticking out of the younger agent's left side.
McGee glanced down at the wound. "Uh-oh."
He got McGee to the hospital and got a call with some bad news. Ducky, who'd gone to the wedding with Palmer, had been notified about everything going on and had a heart attack while he was still on the line.
After getting an update on Ziva and DiNozzo, who were safe but still stuck, Jethro was finally issued his new work phone. He then took a moment to contact Shannon and let her know that he was alive and well. Jethro knew that everything had made the news and that she and Kelly were both probably worried sick.
Focusing back on work, he headed up to the still useable director's office, meeting with the Secretary of the Navy, the director, and Tobias Fornell.
"Agent Fornell," Vance said, offering his hand, "thank you for coming aboard."
Tobias shook his hand. "I can't think of any place I'd rather be."
They all turned to Secretary Jarvis who was talking away quite seriously on the phone. "Absolutely, Sir." SecNav placed a finger in the air. "One second."
"The President," the director explained.
Both men nodded, not at all surprised by the president's involvement at this point.
"Special Agent McGee?" Vance asked.
Feeling rather restless, Jethro was pacing. "He got lucky: stitches."
"Agents DiNozzo and David?" Vance asked.
"They're still in the elevator," he said. "Debris fell on top of the car."
Tobias made a face. "That must be cozy."
"Let me know as soon as they're out," Vance requested. "What about Dr. Mallard?"
"Ducky had a heart attack," Jethro explained, no longer pacing but fidgeting where he stood. "Palmer's on his way here. Ducky's stable."
Vance dipped his head slightly. "The old man's stronger than all of us combined."
Secretary Jarvis wrapped up his phone call. "Thank you, Mr. President." The man then turned his focus to them.
Vance immediately jumped into introductions. "Sir, I believe you've already met Senior Agent Fornell with the FBI."
Tobias gave a small nod of respect. "Mr. Secretary."
"I know we don't have an operational SCIF," SecNav said, "so what I have to say stays in this room." They all nodded their acknowledgment. "We've been instructed to locate Harper Dearing and proceed with extreme prejudice. We're going to pool our resources and end this once and for all. Questions?"
"Just one," Tobias stated, voicing something that was running through Jethro's mind at the moment as well. SecNav's comment there made it all sound so easy. "Dearing has been eluding us for a while. What makes you think we're gonna get him now?"
"This comes from the President," SecNav replied. "Failure is not an option."
After that little meeting, Jethro stayed at the Navy Yard working for another couple of hours, making no real progress on the case, though they finally managed to get Ziva and DiNozzo out of that damn elevator. So, feeling exhausted and, admittedly, rather sore, Jethro dismissed his team and headed home. The night crew could take over.
He was honestly rather out of it once the adrenaline wore off, all of the fear and stress from the day finally catching up with Jethro. Shannon tried to help, pushing her own fears to the side, but couldn't manage to get him out of his head.
Shannon kissed him on the cheek. "Want some more ice for your head?"
"No," he replied softly. "The Tylenol's helping."
She nodded. "Good. I know you said you're not hungry, but will you try to eat half a sandwich, some soup, or something?"
Jethro shook his head, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes for a moment. He wasn't in the mood to eat and, honestly, felt a bit nauseous.
Shannon sighed. "Jethro."
He pulled out his phone. "I need to talk to Dad."
"Alright," Shannon replied, clearly just happy that she was getting some sort of verbal response from Jethro. "Called Jack earlier to let him know you were okay. I know he'd love to hear from ya."
Jethro sighed and, exhausted, called his father to let him know he was safe. He had a brief phone call with his daughter too. Tobias, who Jethro had been expecting, walked through the front door right as Jethro got off of that last call.
Shannon and Tobias chatted quietly over by the front door for a long moment and then the FBI agent started making his way in Jethro's direction.
Tobias went into the fridge and grabbed two beers, swiftly joining Jethro at the kitchen table and passing him one. "You never dress up for me anymore."
Jethro opened the beer and then played with his face, not saying a word.
Tobias took a seat and eyed him. "You hungry?"
He fidgeted with his cellphone, still not particularly wanting to talk.
His long-time friend looked more and more concerned but not surprised by the lack of response that he was giving him. "You call your old man, tell him you're okay?"
He finally spoke, but it was barely audible. "Yep."
"You take a break, Jethro." His long-time friend knew that he'd battled with PTSD and severe depression over the years. Knew enough to be aware that the combat veteran was potentially digging himself back into that exact same hole. "You're home now."
Jethro's voice was quite a bit stronger this time when he spoke, although still a bit on the softer side. "Navy Yard is my home too. It didn't stop him, Tobias."
Tobias sighed, finally popping the cap off his own beer.
He eyed his surrogate brother. "He hurt my family."
"I know," the other man replied before taking a swig of his beer.
Jethro just sat there, shaking his head. It felt as though his mind was running a mile a minute and Jethro just couldn't seem to quiet it. Just when he'd start to relax, it would begin all over. Stops and Starts. I almost lost my entire team today. Hell, Ducky's still not out of the woods yet. I could still lose him.
His long-time friend grabbed the small white styrofoam take-out container beside him and pushed it towards him slightly, opening it. "Brought cannoli."
He leaned forward in his chair slightly, placing both hands on the table in front of him, beer in his hand. "What's next, huh? What if Dearing's done?"
"He can't just walk away," Tobias said.
"Oh, yeah, he can!" Jethro retorted. "Sure, he can. He can go under."
"How?" Tobias asked incredulously. "Every federal agency is on alert." The man sighed and leaned forward in his seat slightly, locking eyes with him. "Will you let me take the reins on this one, Jethro?"
Jethro just looked away, torn between irritation that he was being asked to step down and actually considering it. He knew that he was a mess at the moment. Then again, who wouldn't be after surviving a terrorist attack?
"The President said to proceed with extreme prejudice," Tobias said, shooting Jethro a reassuring look as he spoke. "I'm proceeding."
Jethro wasn't entirely sure what the FBI agent had meant by that, but he was certain of one thing. He was in for a really, really long night.
