NCIS and all of its wonderful characters – no they don't belong to me. Sigh, they never will. Some of them do belong to each other, though, don't you agree?

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee (sequel to Sawdust and Gunpowder) – Boundaries get crossed and bridges get burned. Will Abby and Gibbs ever get on the same page?

Rating – M. Not for kiddos. Really.

FWandFS (Fair Winds and Following Seas): Second Fanfic in this Fandom. Have written others as FeliciaMaplewood for Scarecrow and Mrs. King…Yes, I am dating myself by admitting that.

Chapter 8 – Dry-Gulch**

"Abby!" She heard Gibbs voice, urgent and strong on the other end of the line. He had picked up on the first ring. She felt a soaring lift of her heart that only his voice could cause.

Distracted, as she approached her coupe classic, she ignored the unease she always felt approaching her car late at night. Tony would have had her head. It was one of Gibbs unwritten rules that an agent stayed to walk Abby to her car. While normally he had reserved the honor for himself, she had so blatantly rejected his company that he had quietly delegated the responsibility to Tony. The brash agent had hovered in her lab, waiting to escort her until she promised him, laying her left hand on a forensics text and raising her right hand in the air that she would sleep in the lab that night. He had still left reluctantly.

Budget cuts had impacted the Navy Yard just like everywhere and guard details were fewer in number, relying instead on camera surveillance of the parking lots. Gibbs had been dissatisfied with the obvious and outdated system that was installed and had McGee design a supplementary system with discreetly hidden cameras. The agents at NCIS courted enemies on a weekly basis and as their leader, he couldn't be too careful. But cameras alone wouldn't satisfy the senior agent. As he pointed out to Vance, by the time you used them the horse had left the barn. So, the unwritten rule which would surely soon be codified was implemented – Abby needed an escort. And it had worked perfectly…until tonight.

"Hel…"Abby's cries went unnoticed as the phone was ripped from her hand and closed. Her arms came up futilely to pull at the arm that had wrapped itself around her neck from behind, cutting off her airway. She turned her head and tucked her chin to protect her throat, thrashing mightily to throw off her attacker. She wasn't a small woman and she wasn't easy to hold. She felt satisfaction as her right elbow drove back hard into the ribs of her assailant.

"You Bitch!" She heard the man growl as then her nickel plated gauntleted wrists caught the side of his head behind her and drew blood. He smelled bitter like fear and sweat, with an overpowering cheap cologne that made her gag.

Abby wasn't a trained fighter like Ziva, but she was a willful, biting wildcat and wasn't going down without a fight. He wasn't that much taller than her, though heavily muscled. She wrestled and used her height and body weight to their maximum advantage, throwing herself against her own vehicle. Her assailant cursed mightily as he braced himself against the car to gain leverage against the hellcat he had been sent to abduct.

Abby felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and with her last remaining breaths, unsnapped the bloody cuff from her right wrist unseen by her attacker who had a death grip on her upper arm, with his left arm still wrapped around her neck. She sagged as she dropped the cuff to the ground and kicked it under the Deuce coupe. She dropped as dead weight and pulled her attacker with her, hearing him groan as his head clipped her rearview mirror. Served the bastard right, she took a moment's bitter satisfaction before succumbing to the black of unconsciousness.

"Abby?...Abbs!" Gibbed barked into the phone before realizing the line had been cut off. Swearing, he redialed her and swore again mightily when it shot straight to voicemail. It wasn't like Abby to play games.

He quickly dialed her house and hung up without leaving a message when he couldn't reach her. An unsettling disquiet filled his gut, as he grabbed his badge and gun and threw on his shoes and jacket. Damn, she wasn't picking the phone up in the lab either. When he couldn't reach the guard station at the Navy Yard, the disquiet shifted to alarm. His snapped orders at the next rank up the chain left them scurrying to find out what had happened at the gate.

Gibbs' Charger peeled down the neighborhood streets as he raced to the Navy Yard, hoping against hope his gut was wrong and he was overreacting.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped into his cell phone.

"Boss?" Tony replied in surprise. Gibbs was in full marine mode, he knew that tone of voice.

"What time did you walk Abby to her car?"

"Wha…I didn't!" Tony responded in confusion. "She was bunking down in the lab to run tests and refused to leave. I told Gentry and Barrings to keep an eye on her when they did their rounds overnight."

"Fuck!" Tony heard the squeal of tires abrading the pavement and knew without being told where Gibbs was heading.

"On it Boss…I'll call Ziva and McGee and meet you there." Tony felt his own heart rate kick up a notch. Abby had been his responsibility and he loved the crazy little bat creature. He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her.

When they arrived, the general uproar let them know that all was not well. Military vehicles surrounded the lot and heightened security was present at the gates. A day late and a dollar short. The lone guard had been overpowered and rendered unconscious, but he'd live. In the glaring the center of the emergency lights set up in the parking lot, they found Gibbs already coolly taking snapshots of an evident struggle – a blood trail, dents on Abby's car, her bloody gauntlet.

McGee felt the surreal horror he had felt when he approached Tony's burned out car so many years ago. Just as he had then, Gibbs' allowed no time to process their own personal loss and anxiety before ordering them to work the scene. Only the set of his mouth and the cold fire in his eyes would let anyone know the personal pain he was feeling. "McGee – security tapes are inside."

Startled, McGee nodded and swallowed hard. "On it Boss."

Tony paused in wide-eyed horror at the blood trail against Abby's car. Not Abby…

"Tony….,Tony…." Gibbs raised his voice sharply to get his attention, "Hey! DiNozzo!"

Tony met his eyes slowly, still taking in the impossible dread of what faced them. "I don't have time for this Tony. Help McGee. You find something, hear?"

Ziva coolly snapped on her rubber gloves and pushed Tony toward the door. Like Gibbs' she responded to crisis with cool precision in the moment. She would have time to react later. She crouched looking at the blood trail on the ground, before looking up to meet Gibbs' implacable eyes.

She pointed to a spot a few feet from the car. "It started here, yes? Then, they struggled by the hood." She pointed to the blood smear across the hood. "And here…," she continued to narrate as she walked around the car, pointing to the bloody marks on the rearview mirror and the running board of the classic car. "She stopped fighting here." Ziva noted coolly, pointing to the signs of drag marks in the sandy debris across the paved parking lot. "It looks like one assailant. Two would have carried her." Her eyes were steady and cold, a quietly banked rage that would spark only when she could lay her well-trained hands on the man who had hurt her friend.

Gibbs nodded, grateful for her cool professionalism. Ziva's logical mind and steady hand were exactly what he needed to keep firm reins on his own sanity. She took the camera from his clenched hand and started snapping pictures. He could trust her not to miss a thing. After the photos were complete, he reached under her car to retrieve the bloody cuff and place it in an evidence bag.

"That was left by design." Ziva's firm intonation cut through the silence of the night. "It does not fit the pattern of the struggle."

Gibbs looked back at her sharply, lifting an eyebrow.

She cocked her head. "You or I – we would have fought. That is our natural response." Her eyes scanned the length of the car and rested on the bag in his hand. "Abby left forensic evidence. That would be her response. She did all that she could do." She pointed to the smears and the imprint of a bloody palm against the pristine car.

Gibbs nodded once, his throat tight. Ziva was right. That is exactly how Abby's mind worked. He flipped open his phone and speed dialed Fornell – short of Abby, the FBI had the best forensic lab out there. If she had been kidnapped due to the mob connections on this case, he had more than enough reason to involve the FBI. He could call in a few markers, Tobias owed him.

As they headed to the bull-pen, they heard before they saw the sounds of struggle on the security video. It was McGee, still dressed in his MIT t-shirt and sweats, who intently watched the video on the plasma, pausing to view, rewind, and view again. Ziva realized he must have literally rolled out of bed to answer the emergency call to action. That dedication didn't surprise her.

Tony, gripping his desk with white knuckles couldn't watch the screen and gazed down at his desktop, but flinched as he heard the muffled recordings of the struggle. His tortured eyes met the cool steady ones of his Boss who only lifted an eyebrow in reprimand. Tony flinched again as he faced the screen, watching the replay of Abby hitting the pavement in deadweight, out of air.

The only sign of McGee's distress was his clenched jaw as he furiously took notes, playing the tape frame by frame. His tone was business-like and rushed as Gibbs came to stand closely behind him. He pointed to the back of the black van. "It's a Chevrolet Express Cargo Van, Boss. I got a partial plate – Maryland – first part is missing, but final 3 characters are 8JZ. It has a dent in the rear bumper and the front and back tires don't match." McGee's voice began to shake slightly as continued. "Single assailant, caucasian, about six feet – dark brown or black hair. Wearing a black track suit and I'm pretty sure they are Nike running shoes. Right handed. He'll have an injury on his right temple and bite marks on his left forearm." McGee paused and swallowed hard.

Gibbs clapped him on the shoulder. "Good work, Tim." The image wasn't clear, but the man's frame looked like that of Ostepenchevko's hired muscle, Paulie.

McGee closed his eyes and nodded once. He only hoped it would be enough. "I'll keep looking, Boss." His voice cracked with the strain. It was Abby, he would never stop looking.

"DiNozzo…", Gibbs turned to order him to contact the Silver Springs PD, only to find the agent already working the lines. Better to give his guilt an outlet, Gibbs knew all too well. The BOLO they had received from that department had a response placing him at the Metro station in Silver Springs, but no vehicle had been found. Ostepenchevko had disappeared again. But, at least now they had something for them to look for.

"McGee…", but as he turned to order him to inform state police in the tri-state area, he found him also already calling it in.

Gibbs turned and approached his former Mossad agent quietly, the only other one among them who always thought of the worst case scenario. "Ziva, how long did Ducky say those women had been drugged before they were killed?" Gibbs voice was neutral and hard as he asked the question he feared most.

"12 hours…", she whispered staring at the plasma screen, paused on an image of Abby's limp form, the reality of Abby's abduction finally sinking in.

Gibbs fingers bit into the back of her desk chair, as he fought down the clawing panic that rose within him. If they couldn't find her, Abby had only 11 hours left.

**Chapter 8: Dry-Gulch: To dry-gulch means to sneak attack and/or kill from a hidden or deserted place.

TBC

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