Chapter 4

There was a hint of sunshine the next day, behind thin, murky clouds. Ducky took that as a sign of change…but in which direction? The worry about not knowing made him more uneasy than the dismal rain of the last few days had.

When breakfast wasn't delivered at the usual time, Ducky fended for himself, pulling out cold cereal and milk from the room's supplies. Some sugar and a sliced banana on top fit the bill, along with some cheese and crackers. He brewed a pot of tea and wondered where his benefactor was today.

Ari appeared shortly after noon, brimming with apologies.

"There is no need, my good man, to go on so," Ducky tutted, kindly. "You have supplied me with so much provender that I could live for weeks!"

" 'Provender', eh?" Ari's lips quirked. "I had thought that meant dry food for cattle. Has it another meaning?"

"That is its principal meaning, true," said Ducky. "But it also means food supplies in general, whether for beasts or humans."

"Ah. I am always learning something from you, Doctor. Delightful! I shall remember that. Now, the reason I have come up here is to invite you, if you are willing, to spend a few hours downstairs with me in the library. I have been researching 18th century medical practices in Arabia, and some of my findings are most interesting with regards to first aid. I could bring them up here to your room, but there are several books and they are heavy."

"I should enjoy seeing them. Lead on!"

Ari hesitated. "Have I your word, as a doctor and a gentleman, that you will not try to escape?"

In truth, the idea of escaping hadn't occurred to Ducky this day. "But of course. On my honor." And he meant it,

The texts were compelling. Ducky could not read Arabic, so Ari helped him with those books. There were a few volumes in English or French, though, which were a pleasure to Ducky to pore over. The two men sat in the house's library, a room with many floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with the tantalizing smell of old leather binding. Every once in a while they would call out to one another an amazing find, and then chuckle, gape, or shake their heads at the limits of the earlier days. Ari already had tea and cookies set out in the library, and the chairs were supremely comfortable.

"Americans really do have the right idea," said Ducky, after a bite. "There is nothing quite like a chocolate chip cookie." His companion smiled and nodded, helping himself to one from the platter.

Ari's acute hearing made him turn his head toward the door. Ducky thought he heard something like a car motor, but he couldn't be sure. Here the younger man had him at an advantage. Ah, the slow wearing down of the body functions by merciless Age!

"Stay comfortable here, Doctor," said Ari, rising.

"Is there a problem?"

"Nothing I can't deal with." Ari opened the library door and stood in the doorway, looking out into the main entranceway of the house. Ducky shrugged and went back to the book in his lap.

He looked up again, scarcely a minute later, at the sound of a commotion. "You son of a bitch, Ari! Where do you have him?" came a voice he knew.

"Jethro. Oh, no," Ducky whispered. This was all going to go wrong. Jethro couldn't understand…Setting down the priceless book carefully, Ducky struggled a bit to get out of the deep, plush chair, and forced his creaking legs to propel him toward the doorway. "Jethro!"

"Duck? Stay back, Duck. I'll get you out of this."

Ari looked to his right and to his left. "You and what army, Agent Gibbs?" he said with a snort. "You are trespassing on private property. The good Doctor and I are simply having a discussion of medical history."

"We are having a delightful, time, Jethro," Ducky agreed, worry now filling his blue eyes. He knew that Gibbs didn't like Ari. He didn't know him, didn't understand him as Ducky did. A highly educated man, erudite in speech (in more than one language!), companionable…this was the Ari Haswari that Ducky had come to know. Gibbs wouldn't understand. He would do something rash.

"Let him go, Ari," Gibbs growled, eyes boring into the other man's.

"And you are going to make me…how?" Ari taunted. In a flash, Ari had his own gun in hand, now matching Gibbs in armament. He had taken advantage of Ducky's proximity to him in drawing his weapon, knowing that Gibbs wouldn't get off a fast shot for fear of hitting Ducky.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "I know this is what you planned all along, Ari. You kidnapped my friend to lure me out. You haven't tried too hard to hide your location. It was me you wanted all along."

"So full of your self-importance, Gibbs," Ari laughed harshly. "Yet, it's true. I captured the minnow to lure the marlin."

"Then let him go. I'll take his place."

"In what, Gibbs?" Ari laughed. "In a shallow grave? Don't you love the peace of the countryside? No neighbors within earshot. No one to hear you digging."

Gibbs only glared at him.

"He hasn't hurt me, Jethro," Ducky put in. "Please! You've misunderstood him. We all have. Just because his methods may be different from ours doesn't mean that he isn't working toward peace…"

"He's a killer, Duck!" Gibbs acknowledged his old friend for the first time. "He's a terrorist. He's killed who-knows-how-many people! He shot Gerald!"

"Yes, perhaps, but…" Why was Jethro going on like this? This was only adding confusion!

"Drop your weapon, Gibbs," Ari commanded. "I think I have the upper hand here."

It was true. The positions were too difficult. Why wouldn't Ducky get out of the way? Gibbs thought. Though even if he stepped away from the doorway, a misaimed or ricocheting shot could…

Slowly, Gibbs bent over, keeping his eyes on Ari's face as he set his sig on the floor. He then gave it a little push toward the other man.

"Good. Now, down on your knees, with your hands behind your head." He waited until Gibbs complied, and then proceeded to aim.

A shot cracked the air, and Ducky, so torn, fell back with a wince.

"You would execute an unarmed man; you cur!" Ziva snarled, the scent of her sig's shot blasting her nose. Ari lay mostly in the library. He would never get another chance to kill Leroy Jethro Gibbs, or anyone else.

"My God. My God. What have you done?" Ducky demanded as he knelt beside the man who had been his kind and dutiful host, feeling for a pulse. There was none, of course, and he knew there wouldn't be, due to the massive head trauma. But he had to try. It was part of his professional duty. "Why, Ziva? Why, Jethro?"

"Ducky, he would have killed Gibbs. And then he would have killed you," Ziva replied.

"No…no…I'm sure you are mistaken! He would never…"

Tony and Tim appeared, breathless, having broken in the back door. Jimmy trailed them. "Everyone okay here?" Tony asked,

"No, Tony; everyone is not okay!" Ducky snapped. "Ziva—I believe it must have been Ziva—shot down Ari in cold blood!"

"Duck, calm down."

"He would not have hurt anyone!" Ducky insisted. "He was…he would have…you should have seen how well he treated me, Jethro! We had such fine meals together. And the discussions! They were…vastly entertaining. His mind was so keen."

"Duck…"

"He bought me an electric tea pot, Jethro! A tea pot! Just so I could have tea the way it's meant to be served. I had a very nice room upstairs, with amenities. Just today Ari invited me downstairs here, to read… He was a gentleman; a gentle man."

"No, he was not," Ziva said firmly, to the surprise of the others. "I…let us say that I knew him better than all of you. He had at least two sides. But the dominant side was the killer. Ducky, he brought you downstairs to be part of his plan to trap Gibbs."

"I will not believe that!"

Jimmy looked at the doctor gravely. "Doctor Mallard, I think you're suffering from Stockholm syndrome."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Palmer!" Ducky snapped. "Surely I would know better than to let such uncalled-for sympathies overwhelm my sense of right and wrong."

"Not given the stress you've been under, Ducky," said Tim.

"It can develop in a matter of hours," Jimmy said, gently. "And you've been a captive here for days."

"Come on, Duck; let's get you home. I want to have you looked over at the hospital."

"I…well; I suppose that would be all right, Jethro. If you think that's a good idea."

"I do."

Gibbs put an arm around his friend's shoulder, and guided him out. Ducky felt…not exactly frail, but weakened, as if he'd lost something.

"We'll clean up here, boss," Tony called, and he, Tim, Ziva and Jimmy got to work. He was surprised to see a flicker of sadness on Ziva's face as she looked at the body.

Then she brushed her hands and said, "Let us get this scum out of here."