Chapter Four
Tracking

Leroy Gibbs kneels on one knee, his flashlight probing the fine layer of dust and dirt on the cave floor, then advancing his beam a few feet further ahead; the angled beam picking out the prints he wants from the multitude he chooses to ignore. Near his knee is a small scuff where a foot has moved some of the pebbles and fine earth, a little further on another, slightly left of forward, the gait just the right distance. "This way," he announces, choosing the left fork of two natural paths, the break not on their map. He is sure the false tunnel is so short it won't appear on the tiny screen. Left is the way to go.

With anyone else, that level of certainty in the tone would certainly cause Ducky Mallard to propose that they split up, just in case, especially with Abby accompanying them. He would join her; not about to let her go alone, but against Gibbs' certainty he will not do it. He has far more faith in the Agent's tracking ability than in many other men's. As Gibbs had once said on the subject of map reading, 'I used to do this for a living'.

Ducky twists the control on his flashlight, expanding the beam to the widest possible field; diffuse as it is it allows them to see the tunnel as a whole, while Gibbs and Abby keep their flashes with the more focused beams for detail work. They continue down the cold path, occasionally pausing for a moment to examine the ground, but once Gibbs is certain he has found traces that are recent, definitely a child's trail, there are no more pauses and soon they find the tunnel is no longer quiet.

x

From far ahead the trio hears muffled sounds, soft and faint, which as they move closer resolve themselves into soft sobs. Walking faster, they track the sounds until Gibbs' beam of light lances, far ahead of them, a small figure seated huddled upon the stone; long brown hair, a pink dress, a ruddier coat and an air of misery and fright. "Natalie?"

She looks up at them through tear reddened eyes, her arms wrapped about her raised knees under her pink dress. "It went out," she sobs. On the ground before her lies a silver flashlight.

The two men crouch on either side of the child as Abby stands illuminating them by the diffuse beam of her own maglight as she uses her radio to report their success and to alert the other search parties to rendezvous at the mouth of the cave. DiNozzo had reported earlier that his own search down a short cave had been unsuccessful; he is by the entrance and will radio Shepherd.

Ducky examines the crying child for injuries, grateful to find none. Gibbs removes his heavy jacket and wraps it about her. Her body is cold, but swaddled snugly now in the heavy material she'll soon recover. "Your mommy and daddy sent us. We'll take you home."

Picking her up, Gibbs carries her as she clings tightly to him, still cold and frightened but recovering in his arms. Ducky and Abby light the way back.

x

By the time they reach daylight there's a crowd of people awaiting them. EMS, Police, NPS, other NCIS agents, reporters; the scene is one of delighted chaos. Gibbs happily gives over the now considerably warmer child into the care of her parents and, never caring for the limelight, manages to fade into the background.

xxx

It's sometimes disconcerting how the chaos and stress of the day can seemingly convert itself back into normality by the time the Agents return to Headquarters and their normal lives. But this time it's with a sense of satisfaction that carries them through the remainder of their shift. In due time that shift is over and everyone prepares to head off to their normal off-duty routines - or so they might think until Tim McGee walks into the bullpen in his best blue three piece suit. "Where you going, Probie? Got a hot date?"

"Not exactly, Tony," he counters with particular satisfaction, "just going to a Christmas event at Siobhan's Church." He pulls an index card sized blue invitation from his vest pocket. "Reserved seating." It's not a truly big deal, not front row center seats to a Broadway extravaganza, but still he gives it all the relish he can, and his smile lasts right up until DiNozzo picks up an identical card from his desktop.

He turns to Ziva, further disconcerted to find her holding one as well. He tries to recoup as much distinction as he can. "Well, I got mine for making a very substantial contribution to this event."

"Really? How much, McKringle?"

"Well, I really shouldn't boast, but - two thousand dollars."

"Really? She only hit me up for a grand."

"Me too." Ziva says, Tim feeling the pedestal slipping out from under him.

Movement from behind him makes him turn to find Gibbs entering the bullpen, having changed into a tan suit. "Aren't you two ready yet?" he inquires, looking at DiNozzo and David.

Tim absolutely does not want to ask. "Boss, did Mother O'Mallory come to you for a contribution for this Pageant?"

"No, McGee, she didn't. She did tell me she was short on making ends meet, that they might not be able to do all they had planned for Christmas; I had a bonus to spare so I helped her out."

"How much?"

"Twenty five hundred."

"Oh, she is good," DiNozzo enthuses.

"You are not annoyed?" Ziva asks Tony, realizing the extent of the operation.

"That she got us to make huge donations to the Church without asking for it while making us think it was our idea? I wouldn't have any respect for her as a Priest if she didn't." He grabs his coat off the hanger behind him. "Well, I'm changing at home. I want to see this Pageant even more now, for sixty five hundred it should be spectacular."

"Seventy five hundred," Michelle counters, pulling on her own coat. Catching their stares, she says defensively; "she gave me a huge discount on my wedding."

"Oh, she is good!" DiNozzo repeats.