Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and any copyright infringement is unintentional.
A/N Apologies for the delay. It's not easy to write about snowstorms when we're having a heatwave. As always, overwhelmed by the kind reviews, alerts and interest in this story, L
When The Snow Lay Round About
Chapter Three
With his chest heaving and his breath misting in the frigid air, Sam stumbled into the small single room shed. The previous winter's heavy snowfall and high winds had left it in a sorry state of disrepair with major damage to the roof and walls…but this was still Sam's special place.
Once used for equipment storage by the forestry service, the shed was abandoned long ago. Sam's dad had used it as a "men's only" retreat and spent many hours teaching his son to hand carve wooden figurines and to tie fishing lures. They took long walks together while he taught his son to care for animals and nature and although there was no power or water, they had often camped there together in the summer, talking and laughing until the early hours of the morning. Sam didn't usually like the dark but with his father by his side and a small camp fire, he knew he would come to no harm.
Precariously balancing the unconscious agent across his strong back, Sam spotted their old sleeping bags in the corner. Using one hand he awkwardly spread one of the bags onto the damp floor before gently guiding Tony's descent from his shoulders. Grunting with effort, Sam removed the agent's wet coat and reached for the other sleeping bag. He stilled instantly as he recognised the familiar aroma. Squeezing his eyes closed, he inhaled the fading scent of his father's shampoo and deodorant and felt his heart clench with sorrow. A soft moan from the agent disturbed his thoughts and he tucked the bag over Tony's unconscious form.
"Tony? Tony, wake up!" he said anxiously. "There's a bad storm coming - I don't like storms."
Tony eyes opened slowly. Dulled with confusion and pain, he was past being aware of where he was or who was with him.
"Boss?"
"No, Tony, it's me. It's your friend, Sam."
Tony frowned, trying hard to remember what had happened. He tried to see past the murkiness in his brain, knowing the answers were there somewhere, but the pain in his leg and the onset of hypothermia was fracturing all thoughts. Scattered memory fragments replayed in his mind at great speed but with little cohesion...a car...shooting...an accident...running...
"They tried to…to kill me," he mumbled.
Sam's eyes grew wide with fear.
"Who?"
"Men…two men with…with guns…"
The pain and effort to remember taxed what little strength he had and Tony felt himself fade out again.
"Tony?" Sam whispered tentatively as he leaned forward to shake the agent's shoulder. "Tony, wake up!"
Tony's head lolled to one side - just as Sam's father's had the day of his heart attack. His father never woke up again.
"No!" he sobbed as tears spilled from his eyes. "Tony, no!"
Sam's mind was spinning. He couldn't think. He needed to find his Mom. She would know what to do. She always knew what to do when Sam was frightened and confused. A cold blast of artic-like wind ripped a sheet of corrugated iron from the roof and sent it crashing to the ground. Terrified, Sam cried out in alarm; the storm was getting worse. He looked back at Tony but the agent lay frighteningly still. Panic overwhelmed him and he tore open the door and ran for home as fast as he could.
0-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-0
As the temperature dropped, the snowstorm continued to build in intensity, reducing visibility and forming black ice on the road's surface. Gibbs and McGee travelled in silence; the weight of Tony's life pressing down on them.
They had almost made it back to Hancock when a fallen tree blocked the road and forced the agents to seek alternate shelter. The airport supervisor, Guy Sanders had arranged emergency accommodation for them at the home of the Geary family and, after checking the map, Gibbs turned the SUV and headed for the nearby home.
"Boss," McGee said, breaking the silence. "How did Gianni Rosetti get to the accident site? The only car there was Tony's."
"He had company," Gibbs replied.
"Or Tony took the car?" McGee said hopefully.
"He would have made contact."
His hopes dashed, McGee's shoulders slumped as he looked outside at the desolate snow scape. In the years he'd known him, Tony had experienced many close calls but if he was lost and hurt out there…McGee shuddered and forced the thought from his mind. Flashing lights up ahead had the agent leaning forward in the passenger seat to peer through the ice-crusted windshield.
"Boss?"
"I see her."
An old model station wagon was pulled to the side of the road and a woman was flagging them down. As Gibbs stopped the SUV alongside the other vehicle, McGee wound down his window.
"Oh thank God!" the woman said, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she unsuccessfully tried to keep warm.
"Ma'am, are you hurt?" McGee asked.
"No, no," came the shaky reply. "The engine just stopped and I can't get it started. I need to get home to my son."
"McGee," Gibbs said nodding his head toward the woman.
The IT Specialist jumped from the passenger seat and opened the rear door. The attractive blonde woman in her mid-fifties, hesitated slightly until the agent fumbled in the pockets of his parka and produced his badge and ID.
"It's okay, Ma'am, we're federal agents."
Smiling sheepishly, the woman introduced herself as Donna Geary and climbed into the vehicle. Donna explained that she had been hurrying home to her son after delivering her homemade pies and bread to the local restaurants and general stores.
"I was only supposed to be gone an hour but they closed the road after the accident and it took an eternity to convince the troopers to let me through. My son, Sam, hates storms; he'll be terrified."
"You left your boy alone?" Gibbs scowled.
Donna smiled sadly.
"My son is twenty-six years old, Agent Gibbs, but he's intellectually challenged. That's why I'm so grateful for the ride," she cocked her head as another thought occurred. "What's a pair of federal agents doing out this way?"
The explanation of Tony's disappearance was concise but Donna could hear the worry in every word.
"Guy Sanders told us that you may be willing to put us up for the night if the weather closed in," McGee said. "He was going to call ahead to let you know."
"He may have left a message on my home machine. I don't have a cell," Donna shrugged. "But you're welcome to stay till the storm passes, we have plenty of room and Sam will be pleased to have company...he misses his Dad."
Arriving at the Geary home they hurried inside out of the weather and shrugged off their parkas and boots. Donna led them into the living room before walking up the hallway to Sam's room.
"Sammy!" her panicked cry had both agents on her heels in seconds as she crouched beside her son.
Soaked to the skin and trembling from cold, Sam sat in the corner of his room anxiously rocking back and forth. With tears still streaking down his face he looked up in surprise and then scrambled away in terror as the two strangers, armed with guns, entered his room. McGee and Gibbs backed away, allowing Donna to calm her son and help him into some warm clothes. Fifteen minutes passed before she led him to the large couch in the living room and placed a blanket around his shoulders. Placing a kiss on the top of his dark head, she walked across the room where Gibbs was building a fire in the fireplace.
"I don't know what's wrong," she whispered to the agents. "Something other than the storm frightened him but he won't tell me what happened."
"Boss, maybe he saw what happened to Tony," McGee said hopefully.
Gibbs glanced across the room at the young man; something had definitely rattled the kid. Sam's arms were crossed tightly over his chest in a self-hug, his eyes darted agitatedly around the room and his breath hitched in an occasional sob.
"Mind if I talk to him?" Gibbs asked.
Donna looked from her distressed son to the stranger standing before her. She wanted to say no; her need to protect her son from physical and emotional harm was the focus of her life. But as she met the lead agent's eyes she saw the tightly suppressed worry of another parent and she smiled weakly.
"Of course not."
Gibbs walked slowly toward the young man who watched him warily through long dark lashes.
"Sam, my name is Gibbs," he said, wincing slightly as Sam turned away.
He took a seat on the overstuffed armchair, rebounding quickly when he felt something under his butt. A small, hand-carved deer had been left on the couch and, intrigued, the agent examined it closely.
"You make this?" he asked, seeing the brown eyes fleetingly glance his way. "It's a good job. Good detail."
Sam looked away again and Gibbs slumped heavily into the chair and looked to the large picture window. The snow was now blowing horizontally and Gibbs' felt his chest tighten at the thought that his agent was out there somewhere.
"Sam…I need your help," Gibbs said quietly. "I'm looking for someone. He might be hurt…lost in the snow. Need to know if you've seen him."
Sam frantically shook his head as he continued to rock back and forth uneasily. Gibbs nodded to McGee who handed the team leader a photo of Tony taken on his cell.
"You seen this man?" Gibbs asked holding the cell out to Sam.
When the younger man made no attempt to look at it, Gibbs persevered, the timbre of his voice resonating with a rarely heard gentleness.
"Sam…please?"
Curiosity got the better of him and Sam chanced a look at the photo. Gibbs saw the flicker of recognition in the young man's eyes before he looked away again.
"His name's Tony…he could be hurt," Gibbs said. "You're not in trouble, Sam. We just gotta find him. We want to help him."
Again, Sam shook his head frantically but this time, a small sob escaped and more tears spilled down his cheeks. Gibbs took a deep composing breath as a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.
"If Tony's hurt…we need to find him," the former Marine said.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Sam sobbed, placing his hands over his ears. "Go away…go way!"
Donna quickly moved to her distraught son's side, wrapping her arms around him and uttering assurances. As Gibbs stood to give them a moment, Sam gasped as he caught sight of the gold badge clipped to the agent's belt. Gibbs followed the young man's line of sight and his heart skipped a beat as he reached for his badge.
"Sam, have you seen one of these before?" he asked.
"It's very shiny," Sam said as he put his hand into his pocket and withdrew Tony's badge. "Just like Tony's. Tony's badge is very shiny."
"Sammy…where did you get this?" Donna asked. "Where did you get that badge?"
"Tony gave it to me, Momma. I didn't take it, honest."
Gibbs took a knee by the young man's side.
"Sam, listen to me. I need to find Tony so I can help him. You gotta tell me where he is."
A mournful sob burst from Sam's lips.
"You can't help him anymore." Sam used his shirtsleeve to wipe his eyes and his voice hitched frequently as he explained. "Tony's got his foot caught in a bear trap."
"Oh God," McGee whispered.
"He was hurt real bad but…but I got him out, Momma, I got him out all by myself with my C-clamps, just like Dad showed me," Sam said, speaking quickly and wringing his hands anxiously. "Not supposed to be traps in the forest, traps are bad, they kill animals and…"
"Sam, where is he?" Gibbs said with growing impatience. "Where's Tony?"
"I couldn't carry him no more," he said, his brown eyes swimming with tears. "I got him to the shed but then he stopped talking…just like my Dad when he died."
The genuine grief in the young man's words impacted like a kick in the guts and for an instant the former Marine despaired…but he had seen DiNozzo give the bird to the grim reaper too many times to give up on him now. Gibbs turned to look at Donna, working hard at appearing casual but his eyes were frantic with worry.
"I need to find this shed," he said. "Tony could still be alive."
"It's about two miles from here. I can draw you a map but in this storm, you may never find it."
"I'll find it," he said noting that McGee was already gearing up. "Stand down, McGee."
McGee's jaw dropped in surprise.
"Call the director," Gibbs said, sorting through the contents of the two survival packs. "I wanna know how the hell Gianni Rosetti got into the country without us knowing about it. Then call Ziva; Rosetti had company…I wanna know who they were by the time we get back."
"Boss, I can make those calls and still go with you," McGee insisted.
Gibbs shook his head as he zipped up his parka but it was the look he fired in his agent's direction that silenced McGee's objection.
"I wanna rescue team, a corpsman and a chopper on the way the minute the storm clears. They'll need someone to lead 'em in," Gibbs said. "I'll find DiNozzo...you lead the rescue team."
Donna returned to the living room with a smaller bag containing assorted clothing.
"You'll need some warm clothes," she told him.
She handed him a hastily drawn map and pointed out a few landmarks he needed to look out for. Hoisting the large pack on to his back he started for the door, turning back when he heard Sam's exclamation.
"Wait!"
Sam disappeared into his bedroom then hurried back, with a thick woollen cap.
"My Momma made this for me," he said. "Give it to Tony to keep his ears warm."
Gibbs eyes softened and his lips quirked in a half-smile.
"Look after your Mom," he said chucking the young man under the chin.
His departure was halted a second time when McGee offered one final plea.
"Boss, please," he said. "Let me come with you."
The desperation in his agent's voice caused a twinge of remorse but Gibbs cast it aside. Sub-zero temperatures, limited visibility and fading daylight stood between him and Tony and the former Marine was well aware that he could be embarking on a one way trip. Should he lose his way and perish in the storm, he needed to know that McGee would survive.
"Got one agent in trouble," Gibbs said over his shoulder as he walked to the door. "Don't need another."
0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—0
The force of the wind almost tore the door from his gloved hand as Gibbs stepped out into the snowstorm. In the short time they had been at the Geary home, the temperature had dropped notably and he coughed abruptly as the frigid air hit his lungs. His cheeks erupted in fiery pain caused by the icy winds and he adjusted his snow goggles and pulled the hood of his parker until there was no exposed skin. Looking skyward he knew the temperature would drop further as the sun slipped below the horizon and after checking his watch and his compass, he set off in search of the small shed and his injured agent.
For almost two hours, Gibbs battled buffeting winds; awkwardly stumbling through knee-deep snow and making painfully slow headway. Although he was well protected by the extreme cold weather gear borrowed from the Navy, he felt the cold creeping slowly through his limbs and into his body. The heavy snowfall and high wind speeds combined to create hazardous snowdrifts and reduced the visibility to 20 to 30 feet. He'd lost his footing several times in the slippery conditions as he desperately searched for the last of the landmarks noted on Donna's map - a large double-trunk oak tree, blackened and scarred from a fierce lightning strike. Once he located the right tree, the shed and his agent would only be two hundred yards beyond.
Denied the reassurance that Tony was still alive, a feeling of doom tried to settle in his gut but he shoved it aside. His muscles trembled with fatigue as weariness turned to exhaustion and it became harder to move his aching limbs forward. Aware that every second was crucial in saving Tony's life, Gibbs cranked up the pace but lost his balance on the uneven ground and fell heavily. Trying to compensate for the weight of the survival pack, his right knee twisted and he grunted as he felt something tear.
Shrugging off the pack and cursing in pain, he wrapped both gloved hands around the injured knee, knowing from experience that he'd torn the cruciate ligament. Grabbing a fistful of snow he hurled it furiously into forest venting his frustration at the top of his lungs. Gibbs had pushed himself beyond his physical limit and his dodgy knee had betrayed him. His mind reeled with dark thoughts of body recoveries instead of rescues; of his badly injured agent waiting for a rescue that would arrive too late. He lay gasping for several moments, watching the snow fall in silent defiance and willing his composure to return.
His heart skipped a beat as he squinted through the falling snow to see the blackened and scarred double-trunk of the large oak tree landmark. If the directions were correct, the shed was just two hundred yards away. He shrugged his pack onto his shoulders and sat up, forcing his impotent anger and frustration deep inside where they belonged. Gingerly he rose to his feet; he knew he was about to do more damage to his knee but his fear for Tony overrode his self-preservation.
Riding the adrenaline surge that allowed him to forget how tired he was, he gritted his teeth and broke into an uneven gait as he headed onward toward the shed. He would do this…and he would bring his agent home.
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A/N:- Thanks for reading!