Chapter 2: Location

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Leaving the truck parked in an illegal spot outside the Gallery Place/Chinatown Metro station, the team sprang out and raced inside. This was a very large station; the yellow, red and green subway lines all crossed here. Gibbs barked out assignments. "DiNozzo—red line. McGee—green line. David—yellow; with me. Move it!!"

- - - - -

Tony was glad he'd been given the red line. Trying to think like Abby, he felt she'd try to flee on it to Silver Spring. Once there, she could make it to either Ziva's apartment or Tim's, and barricade herself inside. Surely she would know better than to try to get to her own place, and have the guy learn where she lived.

He walked at not-too-fast a pace along the platforms, eyes scanning without moving his head. Did Boyers remember him? Unknown, but Tony would have to assume he did. He didn't want to call a lot of attention to himself just yet…even though his jacket, cap and badge screamed NCIS all over. As long as he acted relatively casual, he figured most people would pay him no heed.

Going east, the next stop on the red line was Judiciary Square…near the courthouse. Abby wouldn't go back there, would she? Unless she had dreamed up some sort of double-triple scheme of he-thought-I-wouldn't-so-I-will-unless-he-thinks-I'm-thinking…Tony shuddered and hoped that hadn't occurred to her. Steeling himself, he tried to get into her mind. Suppose she is on the red line. Judiciary Square doesn't cross any other lines. Would she go west, instead? There, the next stop was Metro Center, another crossroads of three different Metro lines. More options meant more avenues of escape. That would probably be her choice.

He picked the westbound platform, and slowed his pace to an amble, taking more careful note of his surroundings.

- - - - -

Ziva and Gibbs had the yellow line. Ziva, whose quick mind nearly always had a good hunch, felt that Abby (if she took the yellow line) would likely head south on it. The next stop south was Archives/Navy Memorial: not only a sentimental place, given her work with NCIS, but if she felt it was necessary, she could probably run into the Navy Memorial Museum and seek shelter there. Not a bad idea; all she needed to do would be to show her work ID, and then people with firearms would protect her, at least until NCIS could get there. At any given moment it seemed like there was a stray captain or admiral wandering in the museum, and certainly several sailors. Yes, she would be safe there. Gibbs agreed.

They walked along the southbound platform twice, and found no trace of Abby. For the third time, Gibbs tried calling Abby on her cell, but it went over to voicemail. He then called Ducky. "Have you heard anything from Abby?"

"I would have called you if I had, Jethro," said the medical examiner, peering at the computer with his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, at his side. "Mr. Palmer and I are trying to triangulate the calls you've made to her so far. This program is not one we use with our guests in Autopsy, you know. It's slow-going for us. Why, this reminds me of the time in Moscow when I discovered a bug on the phone in my hotel room. I was enjoying a late dinner with the Princess—"

"Duck," Gibbs cut him off. "Run the program. Please."

"Oh, all right. Type it in, will you, Jimmy? I'm so nervous; my hands aren't as steady as they should be…"

"If I'm reading this correctly," said Jimmy, "the phone is still in the same Metro stop area. Where you are, Agent Gibbs."

"Thanks," said Gibbs. "Let me know if anything else comes up."

"I still think she will go to the museum, Gibbs," said Ziva.

He nodded. "Let's take the train down there, and wait."

- - - - -

The green line was Tim's assignment. If Abby felt reasonably safe, it was her direct shot to the Navy Yard stop—just four stops going south. However, given Abby's panicked phone call to Gibbs, it seemed unlikely that she would be feeling safe anytime soon—not until NCIS had collared Boyers, anyway.

His mind went back to what he remembered of Boyers. The lowlife had come to NCIS HQ to support his criminal brother during his interrogation. Tim had watched the proceedings from outside. Elroy Boyers had been unrepentant about his crimes, but it had been his younger brother Louis who was uncooperative and just plain nasty. He did have a reason to hate cops, having been arrested by them on minor charges several times over the years. But he had been livid when NCIS' evidence trail had been enough to convince a grand jury that a case could be made against Elroy.

Evidence smoothly lined up by Abby's skilled work.

Abby didn't usually have to testify in trials; if she did, she'd be spending half her work week in court. No, it was only when some attorney for the defendant thought they could poke a hole in her methods. Attorneys who faced her once usually never tried again. The Boyerses, however, had engaged a lawyer, a shark as shifty as they came, and so Abby had to go to court.

Tim didn't know yet what had happened at today's session of the trial, although it seemed that Abby must have scored points for the DA's side to have Louis Boyers after her. He stopped and phoned Ducky. "Any word on what happened at the trial?"

"Nothing, Timothy. Court must be still in session, although it's nearly 5 now and they should wrap for the day shortly. I've been checking the local TV channels. No bombshells, apparently, so there've been no news bulletins."

"Just enough to infuriate the Boyerses." Tim hung up, and was suddenly aware of the time. It had been nearly an hour since Abby had called Gibbs. So much could happen in that time. If she were really skittish, she could be well on her way to even Baltimore now.

He forced himself to not think of outlandish possibilities. Abby wasn't the type who would flat-out run from danger. She'd be more likely to curl up into a ball and try to hide. So she'd probably still be in the station, somewhere…

He tried phoning her, and got only voice mail. "Abby, this is Tim," he said softly. "Please answer and tell me where you are. We can help you." Leaving his phone on, he stared at it for a few minutes, silently ordering it to come back with a response from her. If she feared making noise, she could at least text a message…but nothing came. Sighing, he continued his walk along the platform.

- - - - -

Abby considered taking off her chafing shoes and throwing them away. The Metro platform surface was of a hard, dark, rubber-like substance, marked by raised circles. It couldn't be too hard on stockinged feet…She slipped off one shoe and tested it. Ugh. No, the shoes would stay on.

She'd been looking around for places to hide…but the Metro authorities were a step ahead of her, and had removed nearly everything sufficiently large enough for a person to hide, or sleep, behind. I guess I have to keep moving…Gibbs and the team would come, she knew. They would never let her down, any more than she would never let them down. That was comforting. But could she keep away from Boyers until NCIS caught up with her?

Again her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She longed to answer it, but didn't dare do so. Maybe they were just trying to triangulate her, although if she remained in the station, they couldn't very well pinpoint her location. She quietly cursed the technology for not being all that she wanted it to be.

"Abby…"

She didn't recognize the voice. Turning, she saw him. Boyers. Standing, leering, looking confident, about 50 feet away.

Nearby, the elevator door had just opened to allow in an elderly couple. Begging the Lord for forgiveness, silently, she leaped past them and then yanked them in and punched the door closed. "Gotta watch those fast door closures," she smiled cheerfully at the startled couple. "You have a nice day, now," she added as the elevator reached the upper level and the couple scooted out.

Hoping that Boyers would be in pursuit up the stairs or the escalator, Abby remained in the elevator and rode it back down to the platform. Then she raced out. Which way? Which way? Should I get on a train after all? She couldn't remember what she'd told Gibbs she would do…if anything.

She was on the platform for the green line. If only a train would come into the station right now, going south, she could take it down to the Navy Yard and be home free. Well, aside for the fact that they'd probably put me under guard for awhile, but otherwise…Come on, train; come on!

The platform was growing ever more crowded as people heading home from work piled on. The crowds might be a blessing; it should be harder for Boyers to find her in them.

Some sense made her glance toward the escalator. No! There he was, coming back down already!! Hide hide hide hide hide…

She was at the far end of the platform, where the forward end of the train would stop, instead of being at the crossroads for the other two lines. The only ways out were up to the upper level, or out on a train. If she tried to run toward the crossroads, he would spot her. Even if she tried to walk to the crossroads, her danged light blue suit would be easily seen.

They must be able to do track maintenance while trains are still running, she thought with sudden desperate inspiration. She carefully, quickly edged to the very end of the platform, stepped over a little barricade where she was now hard to spot, and, after a quick glance to see that no one was looking, let herself down onto a small walkway. About 100 feet ahead was a piece of platform under construction, where this green line stop would, by next year, be rerouted to. She scurried along the walkway for the platform. There, she lowered herself to the tracks, carefully avoiding the deadly third rail. If I can walk to the next station, I'll be safe.