Chapter 26

Abby pulled up the two images she'd been analyzing. "Look at this, Gibbs. Look at the size of their hands and the comparison in body types."

"They don't look the same."

"They're not. They're similar, but not the same, and I managed to do a voice comparison. It's not very good and wouldn't hold up in court, but the tones don't match. That's not Robertson, Gibbs."

Gibbs pulled out his phone and dialed Tim's number. At the same time, Tony called Ruiz.

"There's no answer," they said, almost in unison.

Gibbs called up to Ziva. "Ziva, get the car and meet us out front."

"What is it, Gibbs?"

"We didn't get Robertson today. It's someone else. He's still after McGee."

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"All this time, Probie. You had all this time to find me out, and yet, here I am. Still free." Robertson walked around, knocking over the shelves Tim had started to organize, kicking his stuff around. Tim was nearly flattened against the wall. His phone started ringing. He moved slightly toward it. Robertson took a step toward him. "Don't even think about it, Probie."

Tim was frozen with terror. The fact that Robertson hadn't even bothered to disguise himself told him what was coming. However, for the moment, he was relishing his power.

"Do you know how close they were to me at the Mall today, Probie? I was two feet from your boss. He was right there, focused on my partner and Bourdan. I could have touched him. You didn't see me either, did you? No one saw me. And now, they think they have me in prison."

Finally, Tim's mind unfroze a little. Robertson was gloating. He was trying to break him down again. The villains always seemed to gloat in books and the movies. It was their undoing, but Tim couldn't think of a single thing to do. Robertson didn't have a gun visible at the moment, but he had seen the bodies of his previous victims and he had no doubt the Robertson could do the same to him. "Wh-who d-did we get, then?" For once, he wasn't annoyed at the stammer. Let Robertson think him completely incapable of action. If he thought of something, he might take him by surprise.

Robertson sighed. "What did I tell you about asking questions, Probie?" In a blur of movement, he pulled out a knife and threw it, grazing Tim's neck as it flew past him and buried itself into the wall. "However, since you're curious, I'll tell you. He's a good friend of mine who takes my place often when we have these little meetings." He smirked.

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"How is this possible, Gibbs?"

Gibbs was driving. Fast. "Robertson must have suspected something might go wrong either with Alwan or with us. He used a decoy to take his place. Our photos aren't good enough to notice the differences right off the bat, giving him enough time to get away."

"Or kill McGee," Ziva added.

"I know."

"Still no answer, boss," Tony said as he hung up his phone.

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"Well, Probie, it's been fun, but I have a plane to catch." Robertson, without any hurry, pulled out a gun and started to put a silencer on the end. "Do me a favor and turn around."

Resigned to his fate, Tim did so and saw the knife sticking out of the wall. It was a chance in a million, but he was going to die anyway. He might as well try and do something right. Without any hesitation, he reached for the knife, pulled it out of the wall, turned and threw it, as Robertson fired. Tim felt a sharp pain in his shoulder but also a stab of satisfaction as Robertson made a small exclamation of pain himself. He'd hit him! Tim wasted no time celebrating. He ran for the door and saw it standing wide open. As he reached the threshold, he tripped and hit the ground hard. At the same time, he heard Robertson fire again. Ankle throbbing, he stood and started to run again. Where could he go?

"Almost there, boss."

"I know, DiNozzo."

As they pulled into the parking lot, they caught a glimpse of someone limping quickly away from the building. The figure appeared to trip and then they saw someone else running faster. Gibbs slammed on the brakes and they all jumped out, pulling their weapons as the two shadows collided. In the darkness they couldn't tell which figure was McGee.

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"I've got you now, Probie."

"Not this time," Tim retorted and desperately brought up his knee right into Robertson's groin. However, instead of falling to the ground as he had hoped, Robertson merely grunted and dropped his gun and then punched Tim in the face. He dropped to the ground, a little dazed. He heard shouts and then felt Robertson's gun by his hand. He grabbed it and fired at where he thought Robertson was. There was a soft exhalation and then he heard a body fall. Silence.

"McGee!" Gibbs shouted. He ran quickly to where the two bodies lay, followed closely by Tony and Ziva. One was still holding a gun up in the air; the other was still.

"McGee, are you okay?" he asked as Tony examined the other body.

"This one is dead."

Faintly, Tim said, "I got him. I got him."

"You did, Tim. Robertson is dead." Gibbs reached out to take the gun and Tim pulled away and pointed it at Gibbs, frightened and still dazed. "It's okay, McGee."

"Robertson..."

"He's dead, Tim."

"I killed him?"

"Yes." Finally, Tim dropped the gun, and Gibbs got a good look at him. There was blood on his neck and shoulder. "How badly are you hurt?"

Tim didn't answer; he just stared at Robertson. "I killed him," he whispered.

"McGee!" Gibbs blocked his view of the body. "Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I don't think so. He nicked me with a knife, and I think he got my shoulder. My ankle hurts. I twisted it when I ran." Even in the darkness, Tim blushed with embarrassment. "Where's Ruiz?"

Ziva called from the bushes. "I found Ruiz! He's alive, but unconscious." She pulled him out and then called for an ambulance.

Gibbs looked back at Tim. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah." He got up and winced as he put pressure on his ankle. Gibbs supported him up to his apartment. Then, he examined Tim's wounds and was relieved to find that they were both superficial. His ankle would probably heal fairly quickly. It wasn't broken.

"What happened?"

"We arrested the wrong guy, boss." Tim, still operating on autopilot, gave a hysterical laugh.

"I know that part."

"Oh."

"What happened here?"

"He broke in. I don't even know how. I'm positive that I locked my door. I checked it two or three times. I was getting ready to go to bed, and then he was right-right behind me."

"Why didn't he just kill you?"

"H-He wanted to g-gloat, to break me down again. He always enjoyed it before. I guess he couldn't pass up another opportunity. Besides, he had no reason to think that you would have found him out." He looked down. "I should have realized. The man you arrested looked at me as he was being transferred, but there was no recognition in his eyes. Robertson would have done something, said something."

"No one else realized either, McGee. How did you get away?"

"He made me turn around so he could kill me. When I looked at the wall, I saw the knife he threw. I figured I was going to die anyway. I might as well try something."

"And?"

"I grabbed the knife and threw it at him. It hit him somewhere, but I don't know where. Then, I saw the door open and ran. I tripped over the doorframe and twisted my ankle. He caught up to me and I panicked and kneed him. I thought he'd fall over, but he just punched me in the face. Then, he dropped me, and I found the gun. I shot it, but I wasn't even sure if I hit him."

"You did."

"I guess so."

Suddenly, Abby burst into the apartment. "Tim! I'm so glad you're okay!" She ran at him and hugged him tightly. At first, he just sat there, but then he hugged her back and started crying again.

"Thanks Abby."

"For what, McGee?"

A million things flashed through his mind, for being a friend, for saving his life, but he chose the simplest one: "For buying my groceries."

She laughed. "Anytime."

"Let's go, McGee."

Tim let go of Abby. "Where to, boss?"

"To the hospital. They should check you out and you may need some more stitches."

"Great. I love stitches," Tim said rather indistinctly. He stood up and wobbled.

"You okay, Tim?" Abby asked. She put out her hands, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little..." he trailed off and went pale. Tony walked in and managed to catch him just as he fell.

"What's going on?"

Gibbs answered, "I think it all just caught up to him. Bring him out to my car. He's probably fine, but we'd better be sure."

"Sure, boss. A little help, maybe?" Tony tried valiantly to keep Tim off the floor, but if Ziva hadn't come in and helped, they would have both fallen.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Gibbs' car."

"Right, let's go. Ducky and Palmer are here, along with some other agents. Ruiz is awake but pretty out of it. We could wait for the ambulance."

Gibbs shook his head. "Let's just get him out of here."

They headed out to Gibbs' car. Ducky and Palmer both detached themselves from the crime scene when they saw the awkward group.

"What's wrong with him, Gibbs?" Ducky asked.

"Mostly shock, I think. We're taking him to the hospital."

"Okay. I'll be along as soon as I get that piece of vermin to the morgue."

"See you there, Ducky."