Chapter 4

"Well folks, it looks like the mess is almost cleared. We're down to one blocked lane and as soon as they load up that torched Porsche, all lanes will be open. Of course, the damage has been done and traffic will probably remain slow on the Beltway for the rest of the day. Avoid it if you can. You're listening to Majic 102.3 FM, and now back to the music."

Tim sat on a bed in the ER while a doctor shined a flashlight in his eyes for the umpteenth time. He'd been sitting there for hours, listlessly waiting for something to happen. Tim didn't know what the doctor could possibly be looking for in his eyes, but he didn't really care. All he could think about was that he had killed three people. The one, the man who had hit Sarah, he actually didn't feel guilty about. In fact, he was almost glad he had died. Almost. Tim had felt so helpless in his apartment, his gun out of reach and Sarah looking at him in terror. He had been so angry that he had wanted to kill the man, but right now the anger was overwhelmed by his horror at having killed two innocent people and injured four others. It didn't matter that his captor had been the one to jerk the steering wheel back into traffic. If he had kept driving, kept doing as he had been told, the accident wouldn't have happened.

Two useless deaths. He had seen one of the victims before the paramedics had lifted her into the ambulance. She had been so small, just a child. He felt ill as he remembered the long brown hair matted with blood, the battered face. A little girl who would never grow up. The EMTs had been trying desperately to revive her, but Tim could see in their faces that it was useless. They had managed to get the woman who was driving out of the car, but who knew if she'd survive. He had heard the police officer commenting to someone about how ironic it was that the cause of the accident got away with so little damage. Why did the innocent ones always die?

"Mr. McGee? Sir?"

Tim became aware of a hand waving in front of his face. He shook his head slightly to clear it. "Yes?"

"How do you feel?"

He shrugged. "Fine." As if it mattered how he felt.

The doctor watched him and saw the turmoil in his eyes. "Well, just sit tight. Is there someone you can call?"

"I don't know." What if Sarah was dead? What if Tony and Ziva had found only her body? What would he do if the whole reason for this atrocity turned out to be groundless?

The doctor made a note on the chart, but all he said was, "We can't release you just yet. You seem to be over the worst effects of the concussion you sustained, but we'll need to keep you here for observation for a few more hours. Is that alright?"

"Yes." Observation. To make sure he didn't run probably. Tim didn't feel like he had enough energy to make it to the door, let alone out of the hospital.

"Someone will be by to check on you later. Okay?"

"Fine." Why would they even bother? He was a murderer. His car had been the weapon.

The doctor looked a little worried as he left. He caught the arm of a nurse. "Keep an eye on that guy. I put a request in to Psych, but they're so shorthanded today that I don't know when anyone will get here. I'm worried."

The nurse looked at the motionless figure on the bed. "Is that the guy from the car accident this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he's pretty messed up."

With some heat, the nurse replied, "He should be. Three people are dead because of him."

"Julie, hush. We don't know the details." He looked back at Tim who hadn't reacted to their quiet conversation.

Only a little chagrined, Julie said, "I'm sorry. It's just that I had to tell the father of that little girl that his daughter is dead and his wife is in surgery. I just came from the husband and wife who were visiting DC on their thirty-fifth anniversary. They're lucky to be alive. And then, I had to tell the parents of a college student that their son died just twenty minutes after he had spoken to them and that his fiancé is in a coma." Her voice rose, "And there he sits with only scrapes and bruises. It just isn't fair."

"No, it's not. The ones who deserve it never seem to die," a soft voice agreed.

Startled, Julie turned back to Tim and saw that he had heard her. She didn't know what to say. It was too late to take back the words.

The doctor looked at her sternly and said, "Just keep an eye on him, Julie."

"Yes, sir," she said quietly and glanced at Tim briefly before continuing on her rounds.

Left alone, Tim went over the morning's events yet again. Was there anything he could have done differently that would have saved those people?

"If you want her to die, keep it up, hero." The words had been sneered. This man was not one to be trifled with. If he said he'd kill Sarah, he meant it. Tim stopped, motionless and just looked at Sarah as her head lolled lifelessly on the floor. He hadn't felt this much helpless rage since... well, since Erin had died. The knowledge that he could do nothing to help Sarah settled in his brain and began to encourage the festering anger. The man pulled a roll of duct tape out of his pocket. "Tape her up."

"What?"

Again, he pointed the gun at Sarah's head. "Tape. Her. Up. Wrists, behind the back, ankles and mouth. Do a good job. It won't hurt her. Or at least it will hurt a lot less than a bullet through her brain."

Fury warring with an intense fear, Tim caught the tape as the man tossed it to him. As he started to roll the tape around his sister's wrists, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Sarah."

In a voice dripping with sarcasm, the man said, "That is so sweet. Hurry it up, bro. I don't have time for your bonding, and make sure that tape is tight. I'd hate to check her out and have to kill her because of your misguided attempts to save everyone. Someone has to die today, Timmy. You have to choose who it will be."

Tim finished taping Sarah as tightly as he could without cutting off the circulation. He looked up at the man again, his hatred now taking precedence over his concern for Sarah. "Now what?" His voice was a whisper because he didn't trust himself not to shout.

"Put her in the bathtub and close the door." When Tim didn't immediately move, the man fired a shot into a book lying on the chair. "Next bullet goes into your sweet little sister."

Tim picked Sarah up and, as gently as he could, laid her in the bathtub. Then, he shut the door securely behind him. "And now?" he asked defiantly.

"Now, you're going to be my chauffeur. Let's go. And no funny business. If you try to attract any attention, I'll simply kill you and then your sister."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

While Tim was almost out of control with anger, the assassin was completely calm and collected. This was business to him. "I told you. Someone has to die today. It's your choice. A stranger or someone you love. You get to choose who lives and who dies."