Chapter 4

McGee's captor allowed him no sleep. Every so often, if he started drifting off, he'd walk by and kick him. As the day progressed, McGee began to unwind a little. This man, whoever he was, had left him alone, more or less, for quite awhile now. Maybe it was over. Ironically, just when he was thinking this, the man came up to him and kicked him, knocking the wind out of him. While McGee was gasping for breath, he dragged him to the hook again. This time, he turned on a hose, drenching his captive in icy cold water. Then, he picked up an implement that looked like a cattle prod. Tim was aware only of the renewed pain in his shoulders until the man touched him with the prod. Immediately, he screamed from the electric current that ran through his body. It wasn't nearly enough to kill him, but it caused great pain.

"You're weak, Probie." Another stroke from the prod. "You don't even deserve the title you have." Another touch. "That's why no one has come for you yet." Again. "They're glad you're gone." And again.

With every sentence, Tim tried to say no. He tried to disagree, but he couldn't get the word out of his mouth. He knew that if he went against what the man was saying, he'd be punished more and probably worse. He didn't think he could bear it. He just wanted it to be over.

"You're right!" he shouted, hardly aware of the words before he said them.

The man stopped. "What?"

"You're right! I'm weak. They're better off without me. They hate me. Please, please, just stop!" McGee begged, tears streaming down his face.

"Even Abby?"

Tim hesitated, but hesitation cost him as much as disagreement. The man touched him with the current again. He screamed.

"Even Abby! They all hate me! They're glad I'm gone!" Tim shouted everything he could think of. Anything to make the man stop.

"Good, Probie." The man stopped and walked away. He was still hanging on the hook, but the shock was gone. Anything was an improvement, he thought. However, after hanging for a few more hours, his arms felt like they were on fire. Finally, tentatively at first, Tim started to try and lift the rope around his wrists off the hook. He stood up as straight as he could. It wasn't enough. He slumped, groaning at the renewed pressure, but too exhausted to stay in that position. After awhile, he tried again. He stood up as tall as he could and tried to lift his arms higher. The agony was so intense he couldn't even scream. He just gasped. Then, just as he thought he could get the rope off the hook, he felt a blow to his arm, just below the elbow. He screamed and sagged. Mercilessly, the man hit him with the crowbar again and again until he'd broken both bones in Tim's right arm. It hurt so much that, again, Tim couldn't do more than gasp from the pain.

"I thought we had an understanding, Probie." After each sentence, the man hit him with the crowbar. "I thought you didn't want this to go on anymore." Strike. "You're worse than I thought." Strike. "You're not only weak, but you're a liar, too." Strike. "You betrayed yourself." Strike. "I didn't want to have to do this." Strike. "You made me." Strike.

Whimpering, Tim couldn't reply. He just sagged. The pain was too intense to combat it in any way. After what seemed an eternity, the man took him down from the hook and dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. Before Tim could relax, the man kicked him savagely in the stomach. Tim retched although he hadn't eaten anything in days. Unbeknownst to him, the man walked up to the camera.

"Haven't you found us, yet? Is this the vaunted the prowess of NCIS? I'm disappointed," he said, his voice distorted. Then, he laughed and walked out of the shot, leaving them only the view of McGee's body, trembling with pain and exhaustion.