Pick the Pieces Up
August 7th
The constant droning of the jet engines had lulled most of his fellow passengers to sleep, but Tim wasn't tired; he was heading back to LA well rested after a week at home with his parents. Hetty had insisted that he take another week off work, and when she was in one of her tough guardian angel moods it was best not to argue.
"I do not want to see you back here until next Monday; look at you, this is what happens when you insist on working a case when you are clearly too ill to do so."
"It wasn't so bad Hetty, and Duncan was really nervous…I was worried he wouldn't co-operate if I wasn't around."
She handed him his cup of tea.
"Not so bad…I think in future I will be the judge of that Timothy. Personally I would consider two cracked ribs and the after effects of a concussion to be ample reason to take time off. From now on when Callen recommends you be seen by a doctor, that is exactly what I expect to happen, do you understand?"
"Absolutely, won't happen again."
"I should very much hope there will be no necessity for further hospital visits…but enough of that. I gather from your demeanour that things did not go well with Verity."
Tim stared into his teacup, and tried to compose himself.
"Couldn't have gone any worse Hetty; I think we're done."
"Surely not! You explained the need for secrecy?"
"Yep…didn't help…I should have told her more; not about the actual operation, but the fact that I was going undercover. My own fault…she told me right off how important the truth was to her, and I wasn't honest…I told Mom and Dad…and Sarah, but Verity…I guess part of why I didn't tell her was not wanting her to worry…If she thought I was away on a training course, something like that, she wouldn't be thinking of…"
"Of you getting hurt…so when you turned up today looking like this…"
She touched the sling on his arm, took in the shadows under his eyes, the still dark bruise on his temple. Along with his injuries, he'd had a chest infection, and after his critical illness last December, the doctors had been worried for a while that it could have developed into pneumonia, thankfully that hadn't happened, but to Hetty's eyes he still looked ill and exhausted.
"Timothy; Verity was probably frightened out of her wits…you don't look well, and discovering that you had been shot…try to see it from her point of view; and give her time."
"Not sure she'll forgive me Hetty, not sure I forgive myself…you know, I've been knocked back so many times in relationships, always been the one on the receiving end of the heartache, kind of got used to it…but this...being the one causing the pain…I hate it…"
Hetty took his hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"You are too hard on yourself; you are a very fine man Timothy McGee, and any woman would be lucky to have you. However, you are also in need of some home comforts, so I would suggest spending some time with your family, then coming back to us when you are ready, how does that sound?"
It had sounded really good, so Tim had flown home; called Abby and Ducky, as promised and been lectured at length on looking after himself better. Then he'd settled into a week of being thoroughly cosseted by his Mom, and chauffeured around by his Dad, who had offered to let Tim drive the Porsche, but hoped Tim would turn him down.
"You drive Dad, I'm enjoying the life of leisure right now, don't even feel like driving."
"Are you really okay son? Your Mom was real worried when we heard you were in the hospital; she wanted to fly out right away."
"I know Dad, but it wasn't bad…not like before…"
They drove together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
"You handle the car like a natural Dad; maybe you should trade in your old car, and get one of these for yourself..."
Andrew couldn't help laughing.
"Oh yeah! I can just imagine driving your Mom out for her plants and compost in something like this. No, I'll stick with what I've got; but I can't deny, it's been a blast having the Porsche, it's quite the head turner…but you know that."
Tim shook his head.
"Never noticed, but it's a great car to drive."
"Tim, you didn't answer my question; are you okay?"
"I'm good Dad; really. And much more of Mom's home cooking, I'm going to need a new wardrobe!"
Andrew pulled onto the driveway and switched off the engine.
"If you need anything…to talk, stay longer...anything, you let me know, clear son?"
"Crystal!"
He had talked, but not about anything important. His parents had been through enough heartache when he was so ill; Tim didn't want to burden them with his worries about his ability to do his job, his unfailing knack of messing up what passed for his love life. So he'd sat in the garden, by the new white rose bush and told Jethro his problems…not out loud, he didn't need his Mom thinking he was losing his mind, but it had helped, just internally verbalising things helped him to clear his mind and be ready for his return to work.
"You should have seen the nurses when Eric came in to set up the web cam Jethro, I thought they'd put a stop to it, but Abby can be pretty persuasive when she wants something…well you know that…so there I was in my hospital bed talking Abby and Ducky out of flying to LA…I must have looked better than I felt because they seemed happy enough to stay where they were, so long as I promised to call them when I was home. It is good to be home…to be close; I miss you, corny I know, but I do…Verity and I, we take…took Caesar to the park sometimes and I wish it was you…no, I promised myself, no more looking back, time to go forward again. I'm back to LA tomorrow, work Monday; don't know when I'll be home again, but I think of you Jethro…a lot…rest easy buddy…'
He was startled back into the present by the announcement of their imminent arrival in LA. Recuperation was over; it was time to get back to work.
August 9th
The team had welcomed him back, and they were all happy to see him looking much better than the day he had left for home. Nate had taken him aside in the Boat House and asked if he was sure that he was ready for a return to full duties.
"More than ready Nate; I have to get back, the team has been so good to me, I owe it to you all, as well as to myself to do my job."
August 18th
That was exactly what he had been doing, and it had been so easy settling back into his pre-undercover routine. Working with Sam, Callen and Kensi in the field, it was as if he had never been away.
He'd called Verity as soon as he got back to his apartment but there had been no answer; her phone had gone directly to voice mail. Tim wasn't going to push things, so he left a message and waited for her to call back…he was still waiting.
Work had been his lifeline, filling his days, and lately his nights with constant activity.
"You have visual Tim?"
"Roger that. Kensi is with Rylance, looks as if they're getting ready to go into the back room. Jameson is in a booth, alone right now."
"We're in position; soon as the dealer arrives we make our move."
Tim sipped his Coke and scanned the club; they had to get it right, no room for mistakes. Tonight's op was the result of several months' investigation, and for the last two weeks Kensi had been Kiki, a hostess at the Constellation Club. She had successfully negotiated the path to become a VIP hostess, with access to the club's private rooms; the Orion Suite, and that was where the deal was to be done.
Cash for drugs, that's what they'd been told, lots of cash for lots of drugs, and it was all going down tonight. Rylance was the buyer; they knew that, they also knew that Jameson was the broker, the go-between, but the seller...that was the missing piece of their jigsaw.
"Tim."
Callen's voice sounded in Tim's earwig.
"A limo just pulled into the rear parking lot; this could be our guy, any movement in there?"
"Negative…no wait, one of Rylance's men is whispering to him, this is it, they're heading for the VIP rooms."
Rylance and three hostesses, including Kensi started to move toward the dark blue door labelled 'Orion Suite: Invited Guests Only'. Before they got there two club patrons grabbed Kensi's hands.
"Hey, pretty lady; you don't want to go with them, stick with us, we'll show you how to party!"
"Get off me!"
Tim could see that Kensi needed help. If she couldn't get away from these goons she would miss the only chance the team had to get a witness on the inside. But Jameson was moving too, if he got to the Orion Suite before Kensi the operation could be ruined. Tim grabbed his glass and quickly made his way to Jameson's booth; he lurched the last few steps and stumbled into Jameson spilling the contents of his glass down Jameson's shirt and pants.
"Sorry man…too much to drink I guess…let me get you…oh, oh boy…I think I'm going to thr…"
Jameson pushed him aside.
"Don't you dare throw up on my shoes!"
Tim didn't stop to watch Jameson trying to mop up the Coke staining his white shirt, he had another job to do. He lurched toward Kensi and called out.
"Kiki! Kiki...you promised me a dance; hey guys, butt out, she's mine."
As the two men turned their attention to Tim, Kensi pulled away and raced after Rylance, she made it to the inner sanctum at the same time as Jameson, and they were both allowed in. Tim heaved a sigh of relief and turned to face the two angry men who had lost their 'companion'.
"Hey man; what do you mean, she promised you a dance? She was with us!"
"Looks like she stood us all up guys…still, look around, plenty more where she came from."
Tim made his way back to the bar.
"G, she's in…is her mic working?"
"Loud and clear Tim. Wait for my mark, then we move."
August 19th
Hetty walked down the stairs, she smiled as she saw the hive of activity below. Callen's team was hard at work typing up their reports on last night's operation. It had been an outstanding success, nine arrests including one of LA's most notorious drug lords; $2.5 million in cash, and 40 kilos of pure cocaine, its street value much higher once it had been cut with various other noxious substances. LAPD officers were making more arrests this morning based on information received from NCIS.
Sam leaned back in his chair.
"I'm done, anyone need coffee? How about you Tim; something for your hangover?"
"He wasn't drunk Sam, he saved the day...the night...those idiots could have ruined the whole thing, but Tim..."
"I know Kensi, but we were listening in; he sounded pretty drunk to me."
Tim was trying his best to remain serious, but he couldn't help laughing.
"Then Hetty's acting lessons must be working, because I've never been drunk in my life."
"You are a quick study Timothy, and if I may say so I was extremely impressed by your quick thinking last night, as was Director Vance; I have spoken to him this morning and he asked me to pass on his appreciation for a job well done. So congratulations gentlemen, and lady; when you have filed your reports, go home, take the rest of the day off."
Callen was as astounded as the rest of the team.
"Hetty, are you getting soft on us?"
"What do you think Mister Callen? I want you all here at 07.30 tomorrow; tardiness will not be tolerated!"
"Yes Ma'am!"
The four of them got to their feet and saluted; Hetty gave them her sternest glare, and wagged her finger at Tim.
"I blame you for this behaviour young man; things have become altogether too frivolous since your arrival. Now, home people; but remember 07.30!"
August 31st
Things had been anything but frivolous in the days since the raid on the Constellation Club. Case after case seemed to come their way, and the pressure to perform had been intense; but through it all the team had worked together, and supported each other when things got tough.
This Tuesday morning was following the pattern of the last few weeks; the team had been roused early and briefed to assist NCIS Agent Kinsella and her team who had been staking out a dockside warehouse, on the trail of an illegal arms cache,
They were in position, and on Kinsella's signal they fanned out and covered every corner of the warehouse. Tim edged his way cautiously round the stacks of packing cases, everything seemed quiet, but they knew the men were in here somewhere. He saw Tim break cover for a moment as he moved forward. There was a flash of light on metal and Tim called out.
"Gun! Sam, get down!"
A shot rang out, Tim returned fire and threw himself to the floor, crashing into several cartons as he fell. There was more rapid gunfire, then all was quiet. Sam ran toward Tim, who was lying on the ground, unmoving, a dark red stain spreading on the floor beside him.
"Tim! Are you hurt? Tim!"
Sam knelt beside his friend.
"Oh man...Tim..."
"I…I'm okay...winded..."
Sam helped him to his feet and broke into a huge grin.
"When I saw that...I thought you'd been hit"
"No...it's paint...I must have tipped over some cans...on the bright side, at least this jacket is NCIS issue."
Callen and Kensi joined them.
"You two okay?"
"We're fine G, but I think Tim's going to need a new jacket."
Kensi took another step toward Tim to assess the damage.
"Oh yes...I think even Hetty will have to agree that this has seen its last shoot-out...I'm so happy you're both okay...we didn't see the shooter until it was too late."
Sam clapped Tim on the shoulder.
"Lucky for me Tim had my back...thanks man, I owe you."
Tim shook his head.
"You don't owe me anything, we're a team, we look out for each other."
Back at HQ the mood was one of relief mixed with pride in another job well done. Sam had been regaling Eric and Nate with the story until Tim called a halt.
"Next time you tell it, you'll have me leaping the packing cases in a single bound...I told you Sam, it was no big deal."
"Sure it was...and to prove it, dinner is on me tonight; for all of us. Hi Hetty, are you coming tonight?"
Hetty gave a quick smile.
"I wouldn't wish to miss the opportunity of witnessing such generosity; however, I think one of us is likely to need an early night. I just got off the phone with Director Vance, Timothy, do you remember Vince Horton?"
Tim nodded slowly...that was a name he hadn't expected to hear again.
"Apparently, he is filing an appeal; there is a seat reserved for you on United Airlines tomorrow at 07.05. It would appear, Special Agent McGee, that your presence is required back in DC."