Chapter Two
Present DayMcGee stood at the back of the ambulance, watching as the EMT applied a bandage to a cut on Ziva's head. The Mossad agent squirmed impatiently, anxious to get to her injured partner.
"What happened?" McGee asked.
"I'm not sure," she said. "One minute we were driving along and the next we were under a truck and the airbags were smothering us."
"How fast were you going?"
"I was driving the speed limit." Seeing McGee's skeptical look she admitted, "Okay, I was a little over the speed limit, but it was not my fault."
McGee nodded. "Okay."
"It wasn't!" she insisted. "It all happened so quickly, McGee. The driver hit his brakes suddenly, I swerved to avoid the truck but he swerved in the same direction."
"I'm not saying it's your fault," McGee said.
"But you believe it is, because you think I drive like a crazy woman."
"You drive like a Nascar driver on speed," he replied, "but I believe you when you say it wasn't your fault."
"No, you don't," she said sullenly. "Gibbs probably thinks it's my fault too."
"We don't know that," McGee said comfortingly.
The young EMT interrupted the two. "You'll need to go to the hospital to get checked out, Officer David."
"I'm not going anywhere until my partner is out of that car," she replied stubbornly. "I need to go make sure he's not alone in there."
The young man looked over at McGee. "Would you please talk to her?"
"Ziva, wait here," McGee said, "I'll go talk to Gibbs."
"I'll go with you." She stood up, swaying dangerously. The EMT gently sat her down.
Exasperated, McGee said, "Ziva, you should go to the hospital. We'll let you know what's happening with Tony, I promise."
"Call me on my cell," she replied threateningly.
"They won't let you keep your cell phone in the ER," the young EMT said.
"Believe me," McGee replied, "they won't try to take it from her."
Ziva finally lay down on the gurney, allowing herself to be covered with a blanket. "Call me," she called out before the door to the ambulance closed and the vehicle drove off.
oOoOoOo
McGee met Gibbs as the senior agent was going to talk to the emergency crew.
"How's Tony, Boss?" he asked anxiously.
"He's in a lot of pain," was the reply. "Go talk to him, keep him occupied."
"Right, Boss."
McGee approached the car cautiously, afraid of what he would find.
"Hey, Tony," he said softly.
Tony's eyes were half closed. "Hey, McGee," he said weakly.
"You know, this is taking 'becoming one with the car' a little too far."
Tony chuckled. "Funny, McGee," he whispered. "Don't quit your day job."
McGee shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat, and said, "Is there anything I can do? Do you want water or something? Should you even be drinking water?"
"Relax, McGee."
"I'm sorry."
"I know. It's okay, you don't even have to say anything," Tony said. "It's enough to know someone's here." He stiffened as another wave of pain started building.
"Here," McGee said. "Grab my hand… breathe deeply… that's it, that's good… just breathe… ow… let go of my hand…. Tony, let go of my hand… let go of my…here, take my arm."
"You sound like you're trying to deliver a baby," Gibbs said from behind McGee.
"Well, it's the same principle," McGee said defensively. "You know, pain management."
"Yeah," Gibbs said. "Tony, they're going to cut you out of the car. You hold tight."
"Okay, Boss."
Gibbs and McGee were ordered to move out of the way as the rescue workers began working to extract Tony from the wreckage. A heavy tarp was laid over the trapped man, protecting him from getting hit by flying sparks as they cut through the metal frame of the car. Each bump and jolt sent bolts of pain through Tony's body and it became harder for him to keep silent.
The team leader came over to Gibbs. "This is getting pretty hairy for your guy," Chief Patrick Clanahan said to the senior agent. "I think it would help him if one of you got in the back seat and talked him through this."
Gibbs climbed into the back of the car and held the tarp away from Tony's face. The younger man was sweating profusely and shivering, dangerously close to going into shock.
"Okay, Tony," Gibbs said, "I want you to concentrate on my voice. Can you do that?"
Tony nodded. "I can do that, Boss," he said, his voice cracking.
"You're going to make it through this," Gibbs said. "Just breathe. Go somewhere else in your head, push everything aside and just listen to my voice."
"Oh, God," Tony moaned.
"Come on, Tony," Gibbs said encouragingly. "You can do this, I know you can."
Gibbs continued to speak to Tony in a low, steady voice as the rescue workers cut through the metal. When they braced the trapped agent's body to cut the rebar, the pain was too much and Tony lost consciousness. Once he was free of the wreckage, they quickly immobilized his legs and spine and placed him on a gurney. Gibbs climbed into the back of the ambulance while McGee went to get the car from where they had abandoned it.
oOoOoOo
The team sat in the waiting room while Tony was undergoing surgery. Abby was pacing around, nervously chewing on her nails while McGee tried to calm her down. Gibbs sat unnaturally still, Ducky beside him providing silent support. The nurse had informed them that Ziva had suffered a minor concussion and had some deep bruising on her chest and abdomen, but that she was otherwise okay. They wanted to keep her overnight for observation, but the Mossad agent would have none of that and signed herself out. She dozed on a sofa in the waiting room, while the others took turns waking her periodically to make sure she was okay.
Gibbs rose as a doctor entered the room. "How is he?" he asked anxiously.
"Agent DiNozzo is one very lucky man," Doctor Murray said. "The rebar barely missed his aorta. In fact, it didn't pass through any major organs or blood vessels at all. He has some muscle damage, but with physical therapy he should regain full use of his arm in a couple of months."
"And his legs?" Gibbs prompted.
"Again, luck was with him. Both his legs were broken, but they were clean breaks. A couple of pins in each leg should do the trick. He'll be in casts for at least six weeks, then it's a matter of more physical therapy to get him back on his feet. Barring any complications he'll be able to return to work in four to six months."
"Will he suffer any aftereffects of the accident?" Ziva asked.
"He'll probably feel the cold weather a little more than he did, and there may be some psychological scarring from the accident. I understand it was very intense."
Gibbs nodded. "It was rough, he'll probably have nightmares of being trapped."
"You may want to watch out for signs of PTSD," Doctor Murray advised.
"Thank you, Doctor," Gibbs shook the older man's hand. "May we see him?"
"Of course," the doctor said. "But not all of you. The nurse will show you to his room."
Gibbs and the two female team members followed the young nurse to Tony's room. The agent lay sleeping, his legs propped up, his arm bandaged and secured against his chest. His face was very pale, with dark circles under his eyes and his lips still slightly blue from the anesthesia.
Ziva stroked his hair. "Poor Tony," she said softly, "I'm not sure what kind of luck you have."
"He's alive," Gibbs said, "and he's going to be okay. That's good enough for me." He cleared his throat. "We have work to do, let him sleep."
"Someone should be here when he wakes up," Abby protested.
Gibbs smiled at her. "You can stay for now, call me when he wakes up."
"Thanks, Bossman," Abby said, pulling a chair up to Tony's bedside and sitting down, taking his hand in hers.