A/N: Chapter 2 is up. McGee is going through a number of reactions as he deals with his present circumstances. Some of them might not make sense to you, but they just made sense to me with what I know about fear and shock. I am so glad you are still reading. Sheila

The Fear Game

Chapter 2

Minutes later, McGee's head lolled on his chest. Moments of clarity blurred in and out. The hand sat on his lap now, but he didn't know as his own. It was large and purple and red. A weird buzzing sensation sat between him and true pain. Was it shock? Had the hand been detached? Would he get a new one? These were questions that needed answers but there was no real hurry. There was time for all understandings to come to light. Darrell moved past his eyes, and he watched him warily. Anger toward the man was replaced with a sort of awe and admiration. He was a man doing a job, and his commitment to it was commendable. He wondered if Gibbs would like Darrell.

A familiar buzz sounded, and McGee wondered if it was his hand communicating with him. He focused on the badly swollen blob. Then the little bald one jumped up. "Darrell, there's a text from the female. She says she can talk to McGee in a couple of hours. Says she's in meetings. You don't think they're on to us, do you?"

"Nope. They're not that clever. She's going to call, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. We need to leave him alone for a bit. He needs a voice when she calls. Give him some water."

Winston jerked his head up, and poured bottled water between his swollen lips. McGee groaned and then choked.

"Take it easy. Let's not drown the idiot."

Winston went at it more slowly, and McGee was able swallow several gulps. The water went away and his head dropped again. Idiot. Idiot. Darrell called him an idiot. Outrage flooded his gut. He was afraid. He was weak, but he sure as hell was no idiot. It was an unfair characterization. McGee felt his generosity toward Darrell start to shift.

…..

"How did they know McGee's connection to Diane and Emily? McGee didn't put up a billboard. How did they know his connection to your family? How did they find out, Tobias?"

Fornell narrowed his eyes. "That's a good question, Jethro, but I get the feeling that you think you know the answer."

"You were complaining in my basement about it. Where else did you complain about McGee sniffing after your woman?"

Fornell locked eyes with Gibbs. "You accusing the FBI of having a mole?"

"How did they find out!?"

"Did I talk about it at all in the squad room? I don't know. Maybe. What about you? Did McGee talk about it in your squad room?"

"So now I'm the one with the mole! The Arnold brothers decide the best way to get to you and your family is through NCIS? Doesn't make any damn sense!"

"They know we're close."

"We were close, Tobias. Right now, that's the tense that best describes our relationship."

"Gentlemen!" Vance barked. "Focus! Please!"

"There is a mole, Leon."

"Agreed. This afternoon our focus is on the meet and McGee. When this is done, we turn over both agencies and see what falls out. Got it?!"

Gibbs nodded and wandered over to the far side of the room. The tension was so tight that DiNozzo thought he was going to explode. He stood. "They're going to choose the meet. They'd be fools to let Diane suggest something."

Gibbs shook his head. "They don't know we're on to them. They might feed out some line before they try to set the hook. They don't want to spook her."

"Yeah," Fornell said looking at Diane. "She'll play it cool. She'll suggest a spot, but we won't push it if they have other plans."

Gibbs paced. "We have two task forces this afternoon. One for the meet and one to recover McGee. Abby and your FBI techs are going to start a trace the moment the phone line opens. We know they are holding him somewhere close."

Fornell nodded. "I'll run the meet task force. You should take the recovery one."

"That's mighty nice of you, Tobias," Gibbs drawled.

"Really, Jethro? How about we save the alley fight until this is over!"

"Believe me when I say that there will be a time and a place," He growled from one side of the room. "DiNozzo! I want six teams of four ready when we do the trace. Make sure there's a Metro cop on each team. I want them already out in the field in various spots within a thirty mile radius. We move the minute Abby has a trace."

Tony bolted from the room.

Fornell kept his eyes on Gibbs as he led Diane to a chair. "You should make the call in about 45 minutes. Let's rehearse."

Gibbs sat at the other end of the table with a face like granite, and Vance positioned himself between them.

"Okay Diane," Fornell handed her a phone. "Let's role play. Pretend you're calling McGee."

…

"Boss, can you hear me?" McGee mumbled to himself. "Concentrate, Boss. I know if you concentrate, you can hear me. Boss, I want you to know how sorry I am. I haven't acted like a man. Screaming. Begging. Pleading. Never you. You would've been a man, Boss. I'm so sorry. I get to say sorry. The weak say sorry, and that's me right now."

"What the hell is he saying, Darrell?"

"Can't make it out, the poor bastard. Probably in shock. The last guy we did cried for his mommy for two hours before we finished him. Remember that? No more beating him until we get through the phone call. We need him to take that call." Darrell strode over and pulled McGee's head up. "You'll talk to Diane for us."

McGee eyed him warily. "You'll kill me anyway."

Darrell leaned in until he was inches from McGee's face. "Listen to me 'cause I'm not going to lie to you. You are going to die today, but you have a choice. You make a date with Diane, and you get a bullet between the eyes. Swift. Painless. You give me any trouble and it goes down like this. First, I uncuff your left hand and smash it worse than your left. Then I do a kneecap. Then I do the other. Then I do your nose and then your jaw. Maybe, I do your ankles next. I smash and smash and smash. I'll stop between hits so you can really feel the effect. For hours. For days. There won't be an intact bone in your body when I'm done. What do you think?"

McGee felt a weird relief flooding through him. Darrell was again showing that he was a fair man. One simple phone call was all he had to do to get out of this mess. Dying wasn't his number one choice, but Darrell could make it a quick one. He locked eyes with his captor. "I'll take the call."

"Good! Winston, feed him water every ten minutes. I want him to be as lucid as possible."

He let McGee's head drop. McGee closed his eyes and searched the depths of his struggling mind for Gibbs again.

….

Tony sat in Vance's reception area alone with his eyes closed. The teams were set and on their way. The call would happen in minutes. Abby and an FBI tech were already in Vance's office for the trace. Tony knew he should be in there, but the energy was too electric. He couldn't think with Gibbs and Fornell circling each other like a couple of tigers.

He rubbed at his eyes. The next few hours would be crucial. Every decision was going to have to be quick and correct. Even then, odds were against bringing the probie in alive. He'd allowed himself no time to think about it. Too dangerous. Just like it was right for Fornell to deny details on the Arnolds' history of torture. It was all irrelevant to the task of getting him back.

Still, Tony knew he had to steel himself for a bad result, and the thought of it left him queasy. There had to be a limit to the number of losses a man could endure. Losing Kate was something he still felt everyday. Ziva's loss was an open wound. Add McGee's and he was sure he would literally choke on his grief. It wasn't an existence he cared to live.

He felt a presence and his eyes flew open, ready to mouth something sharp and dismissive, when he found young Emily Fornell sitting next to him.

She looked up at him. "I know what it's like to be kidnapped."

He studied her. "I know you do."

"I came out of it fine."

He nodded.

"Tim will too, won't he?"

DiNozzo swallowed. "We certainly hope so."

"Dad says they knew I would be safe."

Tony hesitated. No one in law enforcement ever assumes a good outcome with a kidnapping. It so rarely ever happens. Fornell had been a maniac when she was taken. "Every situation is different, Emily."

She nodded. "I was kidnapped for ransom. Tim was kidnapped in order to get at me and Mom."

"Yeah. Something like that."

"A few weeks ago, Tim was tutoring me and I was trying to distract him 'cause I hate algebra, and so I told him about this friend of mine. She keeps getting into trouble and Mom and Dad want me to stop hanging out with her, but she's my friend. She always has been. She's had my back since kindergarten. Like even my other friends don't like her, but I can't give up on her. She never did with me. I was telling him about this, and he said it was like you and him. No matter how different you both are and no matter what you've been through, he said that you and he are going to be friends forever. No matter what."

Tony's eyes stung. "It's true."

"Tim said it's a really rare thing when you find a friend like that. He told me to never give up on her. He's right about that, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Tim's pretty much always right."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You'll never give up on him. That's what is going to save him."

Tony closed his eyes and squeezed. No other response was possible.

"Tony! It's time to make the call."

His eyes popped open to find Abby gesturing to him from Vance's door.

…

McGee rehearsed it over and over in his head. It was hard. His thoughts were still focused on the fear of more pain. The break they'd given him from the torture allowed some of the fog to clear. It helped him understand that he was elevating Darrell in his mind to a position of savior/destroyer- much like a battered woman might with her abuser. Darrell controlled his destiny, and as much as it scared him, he knew he would have to end his life with dignity. The coming pain choked him and it was hard to settle his breathing. Again, he repeated it in his head. "Call Fornell, Diane. They want to kill you. Call Fornell, Diane. They want to kill you."

The familiar sound of his phone erupted his thoughts and he opened his eyes to find Darrell standing in front of him with the phone and hammer in the other. "You do what I tell you or the smashing starts again."

McGee swallowed and nodded. Darrell opened the call on speaker and leaned the phone to McGee's ear. "Hello," he whispered.

"Tim, I'm glad you called."

McGee licked his lips, his eyes on Darrell. "Listen to me, Diane-"

"No, you listen to me. We need to meet. We need to talk about what happened last week."

McGee grimaced. He hadn't seen her in weeks. His mind felt cloudy again. "Diane, you nee-"

"You were right, Tim. We are good together. Last week in the motel- I can't stop thinking about it."

He shook his head. "Danger, Diane-"

"Tobias doesn't have to know. Do you understand me, Tim? He's not my husband. I'm a free woman. Let's talk. I have to see you."

"It's not-"

"Charley's on 395. We can talk there. I dropped Emily off at her friend's house. I can be there in an hour. Trust me, Tim. It's the right thing to do."

"You have to listen-"

"No. No excuses. Can you be there? Yes or no."

McGee frowned. Diane played so many games. It was hard to know what was real and what wasn't. Organizing his thoughts was beyond his current capabilities.

"Say yes, Tim. Just say yes."

"Yes," he whispered into the phone.

"Good. I'll call you in 45 minutes to make sure you were able to get away." The phone clicked. Darrell pulled it away from him.

McGee stared up at Darrell. "What will you do to her?"

Darrell shook his head and smiled. "You dog. You were banging Fornell's female. I oughta make you an honorary Arnold brother."

…..

"He sounded weak, confused." Diane sat and stared at her cell phone.

"They've been hurting him for 14 hours," Fornell said. "You can do a lot of damage in that time."

Gibbs and DiNozzo were leaning over Abby. "You got it? Tell me you got the location of McGee's phone!"

She looked up, her eyes red. "Best we can do is a 20 block radius."

Tony straightened up. "Okay! We start with abandoned buildings!"

"Also new tenants!" Gibbs barked. "Basements! Empty Storefronts!"

"On it, Boss!" Tony pulled his walkie talkie to his face and ran out of the room. Abby followed.

Gibbs looked at Fornell. "You set to grab the Arnolds at Charley's?"

Fornell nodded. "Can't believe they let Diane choose a location."

"They don't think we know anything. What I've read from your files tells me that the Arnolds are not precision criminals. They're going to sit in the parking lot and wait for her. I'm sure they plan to grab her without much regard for possible witnesses."

They went silent for a moment. Diane looked up. "He was trying to warn me."

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded. "Good thing you have experience interrupting people, Diane. You kept him in line. You didn't give him a chance to blow it by warning you. It will probably be the reason we find him alive- if we do. Good job."

She bit her lip and nodded.

Gibbs looked at the clock. "I gotta go. Command post is in the squad room."

She looked up. "Will you be back up when I have to make the final call?"

Gibbs shook his head. "There is no final call, Diane. We just had you say that to buy him more time."

She looked from Gibbs to Fornell. "They're expecting to hear from me in 45 minutes. What happens if I don't call?"

"It gives us an hour, maybe two. If you did call, it would only hasten his death."

Fornell stood. "I'm sorry, Jethro. I hope to hell it isn't my fault that he got taken."

Gibbs stopped at the door and looked down. "Tobias, It isn't really going to much matter whose at fault if we can't find him in time, is it?"

"No, I guess not," he said as Gibbs disappeared.

…..

Winston shook his head. "This is messed up. She's going to call him again. We're going to have to take him along."

"No," Darrell said circling McGee. "I'll go and get her. You and our friend, Tim, will stay here and wait for the next call."

He lifted McGee's chin. "You have one more little part to play. You don't do it right and I promise you the worst ten hours any man has ever had to endure."

McGee closed his eyes.

"I don't want to be alone with him," Winston whined.

"Please Winnie! Strap some C4 to his chest or something. We'll use it to blow him up after I break bones."

"How long before you're back, Darrell?"

Darrell kept his eyes on McGee. "GPS tells me I can be there in thirty minutes. The minute she gets into the parking lot, I'll take her. I'll bring her back here and we'll party all night. Sound good, Tim?"

McGee felt hot tears on his cheeks. He hadn't warned her. He'd let her play another wicked game at his expense. Gibbs would never forgive him for this even in death.

Darrell strapped on a coat and grabbed his coat. Then he pointed at Winston. "When she calls, you make him say, "I'm at Charley's." Nothing more. You hear?"

Winston nodded.

"Okay then. Be good, boys. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Darrell clammered down the metal steps of the warehouse and disappeared.

…..

Winston tried to pick up McGee's right hand and he howled. Winston put it back. "It won't fit in the handcuff again swollen up like it is. Maybe, I'll just tie it to your side."

McGee watched as the smaller man looked for rope. He had already set out all the components of his bomb on the table. He was so matter of fact about this process of wiring a man to die that it almost felt like they were two men in line at the post office. McGee found that he was almost soothed by Winston's energy. It was a welcome change from Darrell's rage.

There were a number of questions needing his attention, but the pain in his right hand was wild and unrelenting. All of his energy was put into seeking relief from that and the other parts of him that were in agony. It was so bad that he was unable to analyze Diane and her weird responses. Every once in a while, flashes of insight emerged, but he couldn't connect them into any real ideas.

The only thing he was certain of was that a lot of games were being played. There was Diane and her need to provoke. Darrell and his need to terrify. And then there was Winston methodically building his bomb like a child in front of a pile of Legos.

Through the fog of pain, a central truth emerged. He hadn't warned Diane. Why she was playing another charade gnawed at him, but his usually agile mind couldn't put order to any sort of reasoning. He rolled his head to the side. "I killed her, didn't I?"

"Darrell will do the killing," Winston said as he slowly wound duct tape around McGee's torso. "You don't have to worry about that."

McGee focused on Winston. "You're a sociopath."

Winston stopped briefly to consider that idea. "That means I don't care about what happens to others, right? I reckon I care, but only about those folks that are a part of my world. You're part of the government machine. That machine took Chuck and they are going to kill them. You're the machine."

McGee grimaced. "I'm a person!"

Winston shook his head tersely before continuing his work. "You chose the machine, Tim. You chose the machine."

He looked up at the ceiling. "Diane and Emily didn't. A woman and her child. They're innocent. You're really the kind of monster that kills a woman and her child?"

"It hurts Fornell."

McGee grit his teeth as Winston attached the charge to his battered chest. "They are not the machine! They are people!"

Winston scowled at him. "I wish Darrell was here. He don't put up with back talk. You'd stop it then."

"You can have me." He said, eyes wet. "I am the machine. They're not the machine. Please Winston, they are not the machine!"

Winston leaned against the table and looked at McGee's phone. "I wish Darrell were back. It's been 45 minutes. That female should've called by now."

"Help them, Winston! Fix my mistake. Please help them!"

Winston gave him a funny look and then picked up the duct tape again.

…..

"It's been an hour!" DiNozzo paced in front of the large screen. MTAC had been turned into a de facto war room. The screen was filled with an interactive map of the radius Abby had identified for McGee's cell signal. Dots of different colors indicated the six teams and their locations. Gibbs stood and stared at the map, not a muscle moving on him anywhere.

"We should be out there," Tony hissed as he passed Gibba again. "This is craziness!"

Audio sounded overhead. "Team Green reporting in. Vector 274 has been cleared. Ready for new assignment. Over."

"Bishop!" Gibbs barked.

"Go to vector 311, Green Team. Check out warehouse on the corner of 91st and Winnetka and brick building at 4223 Winnetka. Over and out," Ellie said into her headset.

"You should call Fornell," Tony said. "You should call him."

"Gibbs!"

They all turned to see Abby on one of the computer monitors. "We analyzed the call for background noises. There is the distinct sound of a foghorn, much like you'd hear on an old trawler or a tug. I think you should focus on the blocks closest to the river."

"Good!" Gibbs turned back to the map. "Bishop, send Teams Red, Blue, and Orange to the vectors closest to the river."

Ellie nodded and started calling out teams.

Gibbs turned, looking at DiNozzo as if he was noticing him for the first time. "You're right, Tony. You should be out there. He deserves a familiar face when we find him."

There was something deeply melancholy in the way that he said this that gutted Tony. "Right. I'll head to vector 305. It's closest to the wharf. Ellie, you send me any addresses that troubleshooting."

She nodded from her place at the monitor. Tony gave Gibbs one last look but the man was riveted to the screen in front of him. Tony grabbed his jacket and took the stairs three at a time.

…

"Agent Fornell? Over."

Fornell picked up the walkie talkie. "Fornell. Over."

"Single male in the parking lot in a 2006 Range Rover black. We're running plates now. Over."

Fornell kept his eyes focused on the redhead agent they planted in Diane's car in the parking lot of Charley's restaurant. "Is he watching her? Over."

"Seems to be focused in that general direction. He's wearing a baseball cap pulled low. Over."

"Stay cool. We got one chance to do this right. Over."

Silence reigned for a moment. He wasn't alone in his car, but it was as if the agent in the passenger seat knew that his job was to be unobtrusive as possible. Fornell gripped the dash as he peered at the agent they planted in the car. Her name was Vaughn. She had twelve years in anti-terrorism and was as tough as nails. They put a red wig on her, but her resemblance to Diane ended there. This worked only if they identified and grabbed him before he got too close. Diane had begged to be plant, and when that didn't fly, she pushed to be a part of the collar. He'd been firm though. His ex-wife's wild energy had no place in this operation. He'd left her in Vance's office with a very pale and quiet Emily.

Static sounded. "Plates belong to a car rental. Name on the rental agreement is Joe Smith. Address and phone are bogus. I think we have our perp. Over."

Fornell straightened up, licking his lip. "Tell Vaughn to slowly get out of the car. Let's see if we can get him to make a move. Over."

He watched as Vaughn slowly emerged, her cell to her ear and her head down to hide her identity. The man in the Range Rover slipped out of the driver's side door and crouched. It was clear his plan was to grab her as she walked past.

Fornell leaned into the walkie talkie and slowly said. "Okay. Let's take him."

Activity erupted on all ends of the parking lot. There was yelling coming from all directions as men and women in nylon jackets came running at the man, guns drawn. Vaughn had wisely dropped to the ground and covered her head. They swarmed him and from all directions, and Fornell smiled when he saw the man put his hands behind his head as directed.

…..

McGee stared at the bomb on his chest with a sense of detachment. It was a fairly complex design. "Failsafe" was a word that kept drifting up from the back of his mind. The red wire clearly led to the detonator, but there was a trigger at the bottom that would set the explosion if anyone touched the wire. McGee had no doubt it would do the job for which it was intended. He raised his eyes at an increasingly anxious Winston. "I thought you were a genius with bombs. I could do this one, and I've only had like two courses in munitions."

"Form follows function," he mumbled. "Don't need an elaborate setup for a simple job."

McGee's weary eyes watched him as he moved from window to window looking for Darrell. The pain in his body had become oddly distant and there was a buzzing in his ears that soothed him considerably. Earlier concerns and fears had drifted away as if long ago, taking with them the last of his inhibitions. "It doesn't hurt so much any more."

Winston ignored him. After minutes of waiting for his brother to appear, he hurried back to the table and returned to scrubbing down the table and floor with a spray bottle that smelled like bleach. He picked up the pipe Darrell had used on McGee's ribs and rubbed it down furiously.

McGee's lids drooped. "You'll get most of the fingerprints, but bleach doesn't destroy blood evidence as well as people think. Abby is a genius too, you know, and she's going to find something. She's really good at this. You cocksuckers are doomed."

Winston continued his meticulous work silently.

The profanity felt good so McGee smacked his dry mouth and droned on. "You want to know about the machine, Winston? My boss is the machine. He's a motherfucking monster machine. He can shoot you in the eye from 100,000 yards. I've seen it. He's got killer eyes- ice water in his veins. He didn't know about you before, but now he's going to hunt you down and shoot you…in the balls…and that's just to start. Wait 'til he strings up your brother by the short hairs"

Winston came over and sprayed the bomb on McGee's chest with bleach. He carefully wiped down each component while McGee warmed to his soliloquy. "Wait 'til you meet Tony. He's going to kill you too. He's going to talk you to death…don't laugh. I know you want to but it's true. It's real torture. These pipes are nothing compared to what he'll do to you. He's going to take you apart. Tell you what a sorry fucking human being you are, Winston. You and your ugly bastard brother."

Winston shook his head and walked away.

Color was high in McGee's cheeks, and he felt like he was floating above himself. "You think your little bomb is going to kill me? I eat bombs like this for breakfast 'cause I'm the machine, remember? When I get out of this, I'm going to kill you too, and it isn't going to be no remote detonated C4. Tony has this movie where these birds pluck out this guy's eyes. I'm going to do that to you, and feed your eyes to the pigeons. And that's just the start. You're going to be sorry your father ever met your mother. You hear that, Winston? You are one dead motherfucker."

Winston leaned against the table, eyes closed. He began muttering to himself. "Don't call. He said to never call if things went bad. Pack up and bug out. Go to the nearest safe house and wait for orders. But don't call. Don't ever call. The machine can trace phones with increasing efficiency."

"Damn right, we can," McGee mumbled as his head bobbed back and forth. "Bug out, Winston. Game's over. Run from the machine."

Winston packed everything into his backpack and picked up with the remote detonator. A crash sounded below and McGee's head jerked up. "Boss!" he croaked instinctively. "Tony!"

Winston ran to the window looking down on the street below. McGee leaned his head that direction and watched as Winston stood there, muttering Darrell's directions to himself over and over. Then he turned and ran for his bag. McGee noticed that he'd left something on the windowsill, but he couldn't make sense of what it was. He turned to a frantic Winston. "Hey douchebag, you left-" In that instant, the fog lifted enough for survival to take hold. "You left your balls on the table, you sorry piece of shit."

Winston didn't even acknowledge him as he slung the bag over his shoulder and headed down the stairs. McGee listened to his footsteps fade away. He glanced over at the detonator. Then he waited for Winston to come to the realization that he'd left it. Nothing.

It felt odd to be alone. He waited for noise but there was nothing. It left him empty, and he wondered if this meant he'd already died. It was an important question, but he felt too tired to give it much thought. He rested his head on his shoulder and his eyes fell on the misshapen thing tied to his side. He couldn't feel it anymore and he wondered if it had died too. The puzzle of it was too great and he closed his eyes.

…..

TBC