A/N: Well folks, it's here! The second-last chapter of Destiny. Hopefully, you all won't hate it... that badly.
Disclaimer: Nothing's changed. Nothing ever will change. I don't own any of the characters in this story, and I'm willing to be none of my readers do either. So instead of wondering how you can sue me for copyright fraud, just read, and try to enjoy
- Chapter 8 -
A bright red Ferrari rolled into the vast parking lot of Scoe Associates Depo in the middle of the night. The headlights searched their way across the parking lot, falling upon a group of men standing in a darkened corner on the western side. Timothy McGee eyed them all as he pulled it into a small parking spot. He quickly killed the lights and got out. His Israili Military Industries Jericho had a fresh batch of rounds inside the box magazine, and Tim quickly pulled out the silver keys. Throwing the door shut, he looked over.
Among the blundering heavies was the feared Jericho, who studied McGee's every move with interest. "The keys, Timothy."
"You want these keys... you produce Kate... now!" He retorted.
Rolling his eyes under his shades, Jericho turned and ordered his men to bring the woman forth. She looked a little flustered, and tired out... but unhurt. "Alright now Timothy... give me the damned keys now!"
McGee frowned, and threw the metal across to the man. "Catch dickhead."
Jericho caught the keys with his gloved hand, and smirked. Tucking them away in his jacket pocket, he continued to give Tim that ominous glare. "You didn't actually think I would play ball did you?" He asked. Immediately came the sound of cocking weapons and automatic rifles being trained on McGee.
Tim looked down, and smirked. He brought his eys to face Jericho again. "No. What about me?"
Behind him, the four high beams of two cars flashed on as Leroy Jethro Gibbs stepped into the light, accompanied by Anthony DiNozzo. Both had their SIGARMS drawn.
Nicholas Collins approached from the east, walking slowly into the light. His P228 was loaded, and the safety was off.
Jericho looked around the circle of agents facing him and his men down. He growled silently, and cursed Timothy under his breath. In a swift movement, he took out his ruthless sawed-off, as one of the grunts shoved Kate onto her knees. The man brought his weapon against the woman's head. "Back off now... all of you."
When the agents all showed no sign of obeying his orders, he snarled, and pulled back the hammer on his weapon. "Now! Agents!"
Tim's eyes glimmered with fear, and very reluctantly, he took a step back. But under no circumstances was he about to leave Kate there. He raised the Jericho, and had it squarely aimed between the man's eyes.
Gibbs raised his P226, along with Tony. Nick's own SIG found it's way to face one of Jericho's muscle.
"Give it up 'Jericho'. You're surrounded." Jethro said.
At that moment, what must have been twenty emotions blew across Jericho's face. Anger, fear, worry, surprise, denial, frustration. He was rapidly losing control of the situation. Damn them all, they were getting to him!
Then a shot resonated, from someone's gun, and all hell broke lose. Bullets began to rip the air in all directions. The red sports car was reduced to an ugly mess of charred, twisted metal as rounds from several automatic weapons tore the frame into shreds. Tim grasped his own pistol with both hands and blasted three shots in Jericho's direction.
Gibbs ran forward, taking cover behind Rafferty's Ferrari and killed one of the goons. Tony ran forward into the mess, blowing rounds off his own gun.
Nick took to the chase, following McGee as they persued Jericho across the parking lot. He was heading for the offices, trying to escape. "Freeze, you piece of shit!" Screamed Collins, shooting off four rounds from his P228. Of course Jericho kept going, with Kate being dragged behind him. "Damnit! They never, ever freeze!"
But suddenly, Nick tripped over a speed bump, and hit the ground hard while Jericho burst through the door of the office sector, with McGee close on his heels.
Inside, McGee looked around. There were cubicles lining the left of this large hallway. Jericho was nowhere to be found, but Kate's angry muffled screames reverberated off the glass walls of the tiny offices. McGee strafed slowly to his right, progressing down the hallway scanning them each. She wasn't in any of them, and he cursed the moment he accepted the case years ago when he was in the FBI.
There was a set of stairs at the end of the hallway, that lead up to the left side of the building. At the top, it was the same set up, with larger "rooms" replacing the lines of cubicles.
"Come on Timothy... you wouldn't want anything to happen to miss Todd would you?" Came that sickly voice, from a heartless villain. "I can tell you from experience, she's quite the keeper..."
Tim felt an unexplainable rage build up inside him as he kicked in the doors of one of the small offices. Closing in on the last one, he kicked it open.
Jericho was seated in the black office chair, Kate struggling on his lap with his left arm securing her, and his beloved sawed-off safely in his right hand.
McGee screamed in a blind rage, and raced forward, grabbing his right hand. He used all of his strength, and cracked Jericho's wrist against the edge of the desk behind him. He dropped the sawed-off, while Kate got to her feet. Finally with Jericho disarmed, Tim gripped his pistol tightly, and brought the bottom of it cracking into his lower jaw.
Jericho gasped in pain, and fell out of the chair, which slid onto it's side. He came down hard on the concrete floor of this little office-esque room and backed himself up against the desk. He was trying to apply pressure to his hand, numbing the pain as he looked up helplessly at McGee.
Tim kicked the sawed-off through the open door and turned to Kate. He reached out, and took the edge of the duct tape covering her mouth and slowly took it off.
"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow... McGeeeee..." She whined as he quickened the pace and threw the flimsy piece of tape to the ground. Taking a deep breath she looked up and grinned ear-to-ear. "Oh! I'm so glad to see you again!" She reached up and kissed him in greeting. Parting, she hugged him tightly and sighed.
However, her bliss was short-lived. She gently brushed past Tim, and approached the fallen Jericho. "You... bitch!" She rapidly (and repeatedly) brought her foot against his shin as he groaned painfully.
Finally finishing up with him, she backed away. Looking up at McGee, the two locked in their gazes for a five, long seconds. She gave him a slight nod, which he returned. He looked down at his pistol, and pulled on the slide again, chambering one more round. He levelled the weapon with Jericho's head, who's breathing steadied.
So this... this was it. Timothy McGee's own moment of undeniable truth. The one moment he had been craving, longing for for over two long years. The man's cracked shades found themselves staring down the barrel of Tim's Jericho 941, as he took a few deep breaths. His index finger moved in between the trigger and the trigger guard. His finger tensed, and waited. Three... two... one...
One...
There was no loud "bang". No splash of blood or a sickly groaning of a dying human. Jericho looked up with bewilderment etched on his face.
He... couldn't do it. No! Damnation! The moment he had wanted so bad! Total victory was waiting for him. Why the hell couldn't he do it?
"Damn you!" Tim growled, lowering his gun. "I can't... I just..." His eyes drifted to the floor.
Kate nodded, and stepped in front of him. "Hey, that's nothing! Tim, you're no murderer." She said, with a warm smile on her face. Her loving features reassured him. "It means you're a good person. This... 'Jericho', he's pathetic. But you have compassion. That's why I love you in the first place."
Tim's eyes closed as he faced down the ground. He looked ready to cry. "Thank you..." He said.
The two embraced, and held each other close. "I love you..." He said, his voice drifting to her ear.
"Me too... come on, for all we know Gibbs and the guys might need some back-up." She said, he smiled that lovable McGee smile and they started back through the door, turning their backs to the deplorable human being.
Jericho couldn't believe this. All his planning. His care theft outfit was ruinned, he would be imprisoned, it was all over and his own nemisis was hugging ang kissing his girlfriend. What in the hell was this?
As they turned their backs to him, he growled, and reached for an inner pocket in his trenchcoat. Withdrawing a COP .357 magnum derringer, her raised it up at McGee.
"Mistake..." He murmured.
McGee turned in place, he saw Jericho's derringer and levelled his Israili Military Industries with the man's head. The two men both got their targets, and the destined blast of their pistols at the same moment shook the earth.
- End of Chapter 8 -
A/N: So what happened? Did McGee die? Did Jericho die? Who died? Who's alive? Is anyone alive? What of Kate, and the rest of the team. Will criminals ever freeze when ordered to. All these questions and less might be answered, if I ever come around to updating the ending... ... ... R&R!