Tony drove at breakneck speed to Norfolk. On the way he was only pulled over once. He flashed his ID card and said he was on the way to a hostage rescue attempt, involving one of his own agents. The police officer offered to escort him the rest of the way but Tony just told him he didn't want to spook the kidnappers with sirens and flashing blue lights. The police officer had let them go, radioing ahead to let the other officers in the area know Tony's license plate number and that he was on urgent police business.
Twenty minutes after that another police office had begun to chase them. Tony told McGee to hold his badge up to the rear window. McGee did so and watched as the police officer looked from his badge, to the car license plate to something beside him. He continued to watch as the police officer switched off his siren and lights and slowed to the speed limit.
As they left the police car in the distance, McGee turned back to face the front again. "Wow," he muttered. "I can't believe that actually worked." Tony grinned at McGee using the rear view mirror; Ziva looked thoughtful.
"Maybe next time I get stopped I could use my badge, yes?" The question wasn't rhetorical but neither agent answered her. Instead they looked at each other's reflection in horror. They had just given the world's craziest driver another crazy idea.
Finally, they were almost there. Tony parked the car in a small wooded area, where it would be well hidden, and they made the rest of the journey on foot. As the crept up on the old sentry post, McGee couldn't help feeling glad that he hadn't chosen to break in a new pair of shoes today. He'd never been able to forget how his shoes had squeaked when they'd been dealing with that hostage situation last year. He didn't think he'd ever be able to live it down if he did it again. He shuddered at the thought of some of the nicknames that Tony and Ziva might have come up with.
Mentally Tony was kicking himself. He had managed to let two of the people he was responsible for get kidnapped, within less than a week of each other!
Only Ziva was completely focussed on the task at hand - a result of her intensive training at MOSSAD. She had gone over every situation they could possibly face on the way to, and once they had reached, the sentry post. All of her personal thoughts and feelings were bundled together in a hidden corner at the very bottom of her mind.
As the trio grew nearer to the sentry post, they pulled their weapons out of their holsters. Tony signalled that he would circle the building anti-clockwise, Ziva would go clockwise and McGee should take the entrance that they could see. Hearts thudded loudly as the adrenalin, that was going to help the agents do the task ahead, was pumped though their bodies.
Tony and Ziva both encountered one guard each. Each of the guards was carrying a British military issued SA80. Tony could see that his guard's weapon was set to automatic fire. Ziva didn't care what her guard's weapon was set to, after one shot to the head, he was too dead to use it. Tony's method was slightly different.
"NCIS! Drop the weapon!" he yelled, knowing it wouldn't work. As soon as he saw the weapon begin to move in his direction he squeezed his trigger and shot the man in the shoulder. The shot caused the man's shoulder to jerk back giving Tony the opportunity to quickly squeeze the trigger twice more, ventilating the bad guy's chest.
Gibbs shifted his hands against the rope binding his wrists behind the back of the chair. He could see Ducky slumped in a chair on the other side of the room. There was dried blood on the M.E.'s face and head and blood trickling from a cut that went through his eyebrow. Gibbs was worried about his friend but all his efforts to free himself only served to further chafe his wrists.
Suddenly Gibbs heard a gunshot in the distance. He barely had a chance to register the fact that the weapon sounded like a government issued handgun and it didn't sound all that far away before his world was plunged into darkness.
Taking a deep breath caused him to choke on the dust that was on whatever had been put over his head. The material felt rough on his face and he was sure that it was sacking, used to make sandbags. Not long after the sacking went on, Gibbs felt a sharp blade pressed against his neck. Obviously something had gone wrong for his captors.
Gibbs wasn't sure if he felt relief at the next voice he heard or fear.
"NCIS! Drop the weapon!" Gibbs recognised McGee's voice instantly. He also noticed the slight quiver that told him that the young agent was nervous. Gibbs didn't speak, he didn't want to give the person holding a knife to his throat a reason to kill him.
"Drop your gun or I slit his throat." Well, at least Gibbs now knew that his potential killer was male. He could also tell that the man would use the knife and he had no idea if McGee could pull the trigger, not after last time. Another shot sounded in the distance but this one was from a different direction.
"Drop your weapon now or you're not leaving this building alive!" McGee's voice was strong and commanding but Gibbs could still here that waver. If he had had time he would have wondered if he was imagining it. Two more gunshots sounded in quick succession in the distance and the knife pressed against his throat even more. Gibbs was sure now that he was about to die. He held his breath and willed his heart to slow. He felt no regrets; at last he would be where he belonged, with his family.
One shot sounded. This one wasn't in the distance; it was very, very close by. Gibbs felt the bullet graze past the sacking. He felt the knife slide down his torso and land in his lap. Then he heard a thump behind him and the man, who had been about to kill him, crashed onto the floor.
Gibbs closed his eyes and when he opened them the sacking was off. McGee was looking at him, a worried expression upon his face. "Are you okay Gibbs?" Gibbs nodded. He didn't really know if he was though. He had been ready to die. He had actually wanted that guy to slit his throat; he had wanted McGee not to have been able to pull the trigger. Where did he get off wishing that kind of guilt upon the younger man?
"Thank you Tim." He whispered. His voice was hoarse from all the emotions that had hit him, while he had been blinded by that sacking. "How's Ducky?" he asked, looking across the room to where Ziva and Tony were untying him.
"We don't know. An ambulance is on its way. It should be here in about ten minutes." It was then that Gibbs realised that he was no longer tied up and that he could get up if he wanted to. He stood and wobbled slightly. McGee was instantly by his side to help support him. Gibbs didn't push him away, he wanted to cross the room to get to his friend and if he needed help to do so then he was going to take it.
Tony and Ziva had finished untying him and they moved out of the way so that Gibbs could get to where Ducky was sitting. He kneeled next to the chair and put his hand on his friend's arm. "I'm sorry I left Ducky. Please hang in there, help is on the way."
Ducky moved his hand and put it over Gibbs'. "Don't worry Jethro I've survived worse than this." He lifted his head to smile reassuringly at Gibbs, but the smile quickly turned into a grimace and Gibbs was anything but reassured.