Chapter 3
Why am I cold?
Gibbs dragged his mind back to consciousness and immediately regretted that decision. His whole body ached, especially his recently broken arm, and his head was throbbing. He slowly further assessed his condition and was surprised to realize that not only was he cold, he had been stripped down to his underwear and his feet were bare.
What in the hell?
He managed to open his eyes and saw that he was in a large dark room, sitting on a cold, hard, concrete floor, with his good arm handcuffed to a pole. He looked around and saw McGee lying on the floor a few feet away, both of his hands cuffed together around another pole. He had been stripped to his underwear as well and was silently trembling.
"McGee."
McGee's eyes slowly opened to half-mast and he seemed to focus on Gibbs for a moment before they slipped shut again.
"Damn it…"
"Hello, Agent Gibbs."
Gibbs turned towards the strange voice and saw a middle aged, bespectacled man with a shaved head and goatee standing a few feet away, looking down at him with contempt. It took Gibbs a moment to recognize him.
"Carter Haskel."
The man nodded in acknowledgement. "I would say it's nice to meet you, but it's not."
"Feeling's mutual."
Haskel smirked. "Yes, but I think my grievance is justified. You killed my family."
"Yeah, well, they started it."
"They were simply defending our interests, Agent Gibbs. I'm sure you can understand that."
"'Interests'? Is that what you call a drug lab you blackmailed a Navy lieutenant to get?"
Haskel snorted. "Your lieutenant wasn't so innocent, Gibbs. Remember, he came to me first. They all do." Gibbs didn't reply and Haskel moved a few steps closer. "Bright certainly wasn't worth the destruction you caused."
"He was a Navy officer."
"Yes, but you have plenty of those. I only had one son." A flash of rage crossed Haskel's face. "And he burned to death because of you."
"Actually, it was my bullet that took him out. He was dead before the car exploded."
"It doesn't matter. He was my child. That kind of loss... You can't begin to understand."
"Yeah, I can." Haskel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The difference is my family didn't sell poison to children."
Haskel let out a bark of laughter. "You underestimate the status of my clientele, Agent Gibbs. It's always surprising to learn who seeks out my product, and who provides the demand for what I simply supply. Naval officers, politicians, law enforcement…"
"DEA agents. Hoffman was one of yours, wasn't he? That's how you found us."
Haskel laughed again. "Think higher up the food chain, Agent Gibbs. I almost felt sorry for Agent Hoffman. He had no idea how much his efforts were being undermined by his own supervisor. It was quite amusing to watch. Ah, well, at least he won't be suffering that embarrassment any longer. Neither will his partner."
Gibbs schooled his features to hide the surge of anger and guilt he felt at the mention of the DEA agents' fate. As he struggled to maintain control he made a quick survey of the room they were in and realized it was an old cold storage locker.
"So what now, Haskel?"
"I'm going to deal out a little...poetic justice."
"Yeah? How?"
Haskel gave Gibbs a rather chilling smile before he began to recite in a low voice.
"Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire."
He grinned, and Gibbs felt a cold twist of fear in his gut before the man continued.
"But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice."
"Eh, sorry, stopped reading poetry after my last high school English class."
"Somehow that does not surprise me."
Haskel moved over to the wall and flipped a switch. Gibbs heard a motor start up somewhere and felt a cold rush of air wash over him. Haskel donned a heavy parka before he returned to where Gibbs was sitting.
"I seriously considered leaving the two of you in that car with Hoffman and Evans and firebombing it, but then I decided that this would allow me to witness every last moment of your and your agent's demise." He walked over to McGee and kicked him, producing a soft, pained groan from the younger man. "And as a bonus, I suspect you'll get to watch one of your people die first. I don't think Agent McGee will last long enough to freeze to death, even."
"McGee's tougher than he looks."
Haskel kicked him again and Gibbs winced in sympathy as McGee let out a pained whimper. "Yes, I can see that. But the odds are still against him." He walked over to the door and turned his back on Gibbs as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number, briefly ignoring the two men.
"McGee?" Gibbs whispered, praying he'd get a response, but the younger man remained silent. "Damn it, Tim, don't you dare die on me. That's an order." Gibbs saw McGee's eyes open slightly and he thought he saw McGee nod. Now he just needed to figure out how to get both of them out of this alive. Finally he decided on an old-stand by: piss off the bad guy until he makes a mistake.
"You know what happened to your son...and your brother and nephews is your fault, right?" Gibbs called out to Haskel as he ended his call. "You got them involved in the drug trade. That never ends well, not for anybody."
Haskel snorted. "You're wrong there, Agent Gibbs. My brother was actually the founder of our family enterprise. Unfortunately he lacked the business sense to make it a success. That's why I stepped in." He crouched down in front of Gibbs and gave him a humorless smile. "And everything was going well until you showed up." The smile vanished. "You're going to regret that."
"Stopping a bunch of dirtbags? Nah."
Haskel hauled off and smacked Gibbs across the face before regaining control of himself and stomping across the room. Gibbs tested his jaw and winced. Not broken, but it was going to hurt for the foreseeable future.
Gibbs checked on McGee again and noticed with alarm that he was no longer shivering.
"McGee."
No response.
"Damn it."
He scanned the room, looking for something that could be used as a weapon, provided he could actually get to it. His gaze passed over a beam that spanned the room and that's when he noticed something very strange. A large amount of ice had gathered around one section the beam, the section under which Haskel passed every time he walked across the room to the door.
Gibbs glanced at Haskel, who seemed to be occupied with another phone conversation, and let his gaze shift back to the beam. More ice had already gathered, and as Gibbs watched the chunk of ice seemed to be expanding and a large, sharply pointed icicle was forming just under the center of its mass.
What in the hell?
He looked for a source of water - a dripping pipe or a hole in the roof - but he saw nothing that could account for what he was seeing. He turned to McGee and saw that his eyes were half-open again and he seemed to be watching the spectacle, but the expression on his face was one of concentration rather than puzzlement.
As Gibbs worked through his own confusion he noticed something else: he didn't feel as cold as he did before, and for ice to be forming like that, it should be really cold, right? He looked across the room to Haskel and could see puffs of breath coming from the other man, but he could not see his own, or McGee's. He turned his gaze back to McGee and saw a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead and drip on the floor.
Before he could even begin to work through what he was seeing and feeling he noticed that Haskel was heading back their way.
"Comfy, Agent Gibbs?" he asked with sadistic glee as he approached...and walked directly under the mass of ice. A loud crack was his only warning before the ice broke free and the icicle fell straight down, impaling Haskel right through his chest. He staggered, his wide eyes locking on Gibbs before he fell backward and crashed to the floor, ice scattering around him.
Gibbs could only stare for several moments before he finally found his voice.
"Huh. Guess it did suffice."
He heard a click near his head and looked up to see that the handcuff had sprung open, freeing him from the pole. He immediately crawled over to McGee to check on him. His breathing was ragged and when Gibbs touched his forehead he could almost feel the heat leaving McGee's body, leaving him pale and clammy. Gibbs checked over the rest of him and winced when he felt the rigidness in McGee's abdomen.
"Hang on, Tim. I'm going to get you out of here." He grasped McGee's hand and felt a weak squeeze in return. After struggling to his feet, he staggered over to Haskel and, after confirming that he was dead, checked through his pockets for the cell phone. He quickly dialed a number and waited for the familiar voice to answer.
"DiNozzo. Track this cell. And send an ambulance. Hurry." He stumbled over to the door as Tony shouted questions into his ear and flipped the switch to turn off the cold air blower. After opening the door to let the warmer outside air in, he made his way back to McGee and awkwardly knelt down next him, ignoring his body's protest.
"Help's on the way, Tim. Hang in there. You're gonna be fine." He took McGee's hand again and felt another weak squeeze in return. As he sat and waited he noticed the cold starting to creep back in. He struggled to understand what he had witnessed, and finally decided he wouldn't be able to understand it, not until he had a chance to talk to McGee.
Finally he heard the sounds of approaching sirens and breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned down and whispered in McGee's ear.
"We made it, Tim. You did good."
There was no response, and Gibbs prayed that he would get that chance to talk to McGee, and that his agent would survive this latest attempt to end their lives.
XXX
Gibbs woke with a start and when he took in his surroundings he groaned.
Damn it, not again…
After a moment the memories of the previous night resurfaced. The local police and ambulance had arrived before the team, and the paramedics had taken McGee to the hospital. Gibbs had wanted to go with him, but also knew he had to brief the rest of his team when they finally arrived almost an hour later (and thankfully he had located his clothes before they arrived, as he hadn't been looking forward to doing a sit-rep in his skivvies). He had taken that time to come up with a plausible story, backed up by what evidence remained.
As soon as he saw him, Ducky had insisted that Gibbs be sent to the hospital as well, and he had gone with less protest than usual; it would give him a chance to check on McGee sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived he was really feeling the effects of the second crash and he hadn't been able to muster the usual amount of authority and intimidation that would get him in to see his agent. Instead he had been overwhelmed by the doctors and nurses and had eventually wound up in the hospital room in which he had awoken.
Gibbs surveyed the room and saw Abby and Tony seated in two chairs next to his bed, leaning against each other and both fast asleep. He sighed and reached for the button to raise the head of his bed and then pressed the call button. A nurse arrived soon after.
"When can I get out of here?"
A surprised look crossed her face and she frowned. "I'll ask the doctor. He should be starting rounds in an hour or so. In the meantime-"
"I need to check on my agent. Tim McGee. How is he?"
"I don't know, he's not on my shift." She started to check him over and he groaned in annoyance.
"Find out."
The nurse gave him a mildly irritated look as she finished her assessment. "I'll see what I can do." She left just as Tony started to stir. A few moments later he opened his eyes and met Gibbs' stare.
"Boss?" He rubbed a hand across his face before moving to Gibbs' bed. "How are you feeling?"
"How's McGee?"
Abby jerked awake and after blinking blearily at him for a moment a relieved grin crossed her face. "Gibbs! You're awake!" She jumped up to hug him but he held up a hand to stop her.
"Raincheck, Abbs. How is McGee?"
Her smile faded. "He...he'll be OK. He has to be." Worried by the look on her face, Gibbs turned to Tony.
"What happened?"
"He's in the ICU right now, Boss. He was in a lot worse shape than you...and a lot worse than last time." Tony checked his watch. "He got out of surgery a couple of hours ago, so they're keeping a close eye on him, but… He'll be fine. Ellie's with him right now, but Ducky should be back soon. He'll keep an eye on him."
"I need to see him." Gibbs tried to sit up and paused as a wave of dizziness hit him.
"Whoa, Boss. You need to stay here. Doctor's orders." He flinched at the glare Gibbs he received but continued. "Two concussions in less than a month. They want to keep you here for a couple of days under observation."
"I don't care. I'm going to see McGee."
"Well I see the second knock to you head hasn't improved your stubbornness, Jethro," Ducky commented as he entered the room, followed by another man in a white lab coat. "I told Dr. Crane here he'd have his hands full with you. It looks like my assessment was correct."
"Agent Gibbs, you need-"
"I need to check on my agent."
"Timothy is in good hands, Jethro. He's improving and we expect him to be able to be moved out of the ICU sometime later today."
"What's wrong with him?"
"Agent McGee suffered internal injuries from the crash that resulted in significant internal bleeding, as well as a severe concussion, a broken collar bone, and multiple contusions. We've stabilized him and, as Dr. Mallard mentioned, he is showing steady improvement. We're optimistic that he'll have a complete recovery."
"How long?"
Crane glanced at Ducky, who sent him an 'I told you so' look. "We expect to keep him here for at least a week, and then he'll need to spend some time at a rehabilitation facility. I doubt he'll be returning to work for while. A month, at least, preferably longer. He needs to heal, and considering that he was injured previously and no doubt returned to work too soon…"
"Fine. I get it. What about me?"
"While your injuries were less severe, you also need time to heal, Agent Gibbs. Expect to be our guest for at least three more days."
"Wonderful," Gibbs muttered.
Ducky patted his shoulder. "Get some rest. I'll go check on Timothy."
He and Crane left, leaving Gibbs with Tony and Abby. She leaned over and gave him a very gentle hug. "I'm so glad you're OK, Gibbs. When we heard that your transport never arrived at the safe house, and then they found the sedan with those DEA agents still inside…"
He returned the hug as best he could. "You heard the doctor, Abbs. I'll be fine. We both will."
"You two got lucky," Tony declared, a relieved smile on his face. "Again. I can't believe Haskel was taken out by a giant icicle. That's almost…"
"Poetic?"
Tony chuckled. "Something like that. You'll almost have to start believing in luck now, Boss."
"Yeah, almost."
Tony tugged on Abby's arm and started to guide her away from the bed. "Get some rest, Boss. We'll be back later."
"After we check on Timmy."
"Right. Gotta make sure McWounded knows he needs to get better. Right, Boss?"
"Yeah. When you see him, tell him… Tell him he did good."
"Will do. See you later."
"Bye, Gibbs!"
He gave them a little wave of dismissal and they departed, leaving Gibbs alone with his thoughts.
Gibbs spent the next 24 hours in bed, mostly sleeping or interacting with the stream of people who seemed to be continuously passing through his room. Finally he was allowed to get up and he convinced one of the nurses to take him to see McGee, with the stipulation that she would only take him if he agreed to ride in a wheelchair.
Twenty minutes later he was being wheeled into the step-down unit to where they had moved McGee from the ICU a few hours before. The nurse parked his chair next to McGee's bed and left, allowing him time alone with his agent.
"God, Tim…"
McGee looked terrible, almost as bad as he had looked back in the locker. He had an oxygen mask over his face and multiple tubes and wires connected him to a variety of machines and monitors. The bruises, now fading to shades of purple and green, stood out starkly against his pale skin. His breathing was slow but steady, and the heart monitor showed a strong, steady beat as well.
Gibbs took a moment to let the feelings of relief wash over him. Tim was alive. Gibbs hadn't failed another one of his people...this time.
He gently rested a hand on McGee's arm and after a few minutes McGee started to stir. His eyes finally opened and after blinking a few times his gaze shifted to Gibbs, who felt him tense under his hand.
"Easy, Tim. You're OK." McGee just stared at him, clearly waiting for the ax to fall. Gibbs gave him a rare smile and leaned closer. "You did good, Tim. I don't know exactly what you did, or how… but I'm willing to listen. Like I told you before, when you're ready to tell me, I'll listen. When you tell me is completely up to you. You just need to let me know when you're ready. Until then, and even after, I'll keep your secret. I promise. OK?"
McGee slowly nodded and Gibbs could see relief in those tired green eyes. McGee watched him for a few minutes before his eyes drifted closed again and he relaxed into sleep. Gibbs stayed with him for another hour before the nurse returned to take him back to his own room. After he was settled back into his bed, he took time to consider just what exactly that secret could be, and suspected he hadn't even come close to scratching the surface when it came to knowing all there was to know about Tim McGee.
TBC…
A/N: The poem Haskel quotes is Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost