Chapter Nineteen: Planning an Invasion
"Dang it, Schultz; you always have to be the center of attention, don't you?" Gibbs grumbled softly, leaning over her.
Joe knelt beside his wounded team leader (or former team leader), and had a firm hand on her shoulder wound to stem the bleeding. The others looked concerned. "Don't answer him, Klara," he advised. "Resist."
"Wasn't…intending…to answer," Klara wheezed. "Never…do."
Gibbs grinned, making sure she could see him doing so. "You okay, McGee?" he asked then. Tim, at least, was upright and looked reasonably good, but in the dim light it was hard to tell.
"I'm fine, boss," Tim said, his eyes still on Klara. "I'm just glad to get out of there. If it wasn't for Klara…"
"Well, I want to hear the whole story soon. But not now. Here comes the ambulance for Schultz, and we're going to drive you to the hospital to get you checked out, too."
"I'm fine, boss," Tim insisted, without meeting Gibbs' eyes. "Really. Please believe me."
"Tim, you broke a couple of ribs just days ago. You've been away from medical treatment since then. You should really—"
"But there's a weapon in that house, boss. A really, really nasty one. We have to take them down before they set it off!" He was almost in tears as he said it.
Gibbs eyed him, and considered. "When are they going to set it off? Right away?"
"I—I don't know." Tim blushed.
"Then let's not assume it's immediate. It can wait a few hours while you get a check-up and tell us everything you know about it. Then we can come back for it."
- - - - -
In the house, Nels Johansson prowled in front of the large second floor lab windows, looking out at the dark landscape. The room lights were off for better viewing. He was disturbed by the escape of McGee, Alvarez and the newest Nell recruit…had she been a plant, or had they forced her into helping them escape? The latter seemed to be more likely. Nell in Bookkeeping was a good judge of character; she would not have hired someone unlikely to work out.
Would anyone believe McGee and Alvarez' stories about the house? Probably not. Once found to be psychotic, they'd be locked up for their own protection for the rest of their days. The new Nell…he couldn't recall her real name…couldn't have been here long enough to learn anything. The operation was safe.
Still…it was best to finish up as quickly as possible, and prepare to decamp. There were many other suitable properties in the Mid-Atlantic states where Washington was still a target in reasonable distance. That was all that was important.
- - - - -
Gibbs got Tim to tell them the whole long, improbable story at the hospital while Klara's wound was being seen to and Tim was waiting to be checked over. A call to NCIS had at least brought the good news that Alvarez was out of danger. "Did you bring the schematics for the weapon with you?" asked Balere.
Tim looked embarrassed. "No, I didn't think to grab them. Klara and I left in a big hurry. Sorry."
"That's okay, Probie. It's more important that you got out."
"I don't know about that, Tony. If my health starts falling apart today, as Johansson said it would, then time is running really short for me to be of any use."
A doctor arrived then to brief them on Schultz' condition. The bullet had been removed from her shoulder without consequences; she was doing well but would be in the hospital for up to a week. Because of her role in helping Tim get out, Gibbs ordered guards for her room. Joe and Balere, who'd gotten a little sleep before the great escape, volunteered for the first shift. Tony and Mickey gladly stretched out across a couple chairs in the hospital waiting room while Ziva and Gibbs stayed awake with Tim.
A long silence deepened. It was now after 3 AM, approaching 4. Gibbs had called Jenny a few times, updating her on the situation.
"When are you going into the house?" Jenny asked. "I'll have additional manpower for you there then. Just tell me when you want them."
"Let's say 8 AM. That's the earliest time they could reasonably expect a delivery."
Finally Tim, the least-suffering patient in the ER, got in to see a doctor. At some point he'd taken the tape off his chest; he couldn't remember when. The doctor hmmm'd over that, and ordered a new set of x-rays. Those turned out to be remarkable in that the fractures showed up as mostly healed. That should be nearly impossible for breaks only six days old, but the evidence was there. The doctor couldn't explain it. Otherwise, Tim appeared to be in good health.
Gibbs sighed and scratched his head. "Nonetheless, you're laying low, McGee. You can stay in the van while we storm the house."
"But—" Tim was clearly frightened, or anxious, and he cowered under Gibbs' stare.
Ziva knelt beside him. "You want to be in on the action, do you not, McGee?" He nodded, fighting tears. "And you are the only one among us who knows the layout of the house," she added. "Gibbs, I think he has to be there. He appears fit enough."
"Crap. All right, McGee; but you need to put on a bulletproof vest. Same as the rest of us. Let's go get some rest. It's already been too long a night."
- - - - -
Klara opened her eyes and willed them to focus. They had minds of their own, of course, and focused when they felt like doing so. They blinked against the sunlight coming in the window. It registered in her mind that a hunk of red hair was sitting next to her hospital bed. "Ohhhhh, crap," said Klara.
"Good morning to you, too," said Jenny.
"You came here to punch my lights out? I guess that's fair enough. Take your best swing, Jenny. If you're man enough to do it."
Jenny's lips quirked. "Thank you. I think I'll take a rain check until you're better, though."
Klara closed her eyes. "What is it you want, Jenny?"
"A couple of things," Jenny said briskly. "First, to thank you for rescuing McGee. That was very well done, Klara. And I won't say you didn't have to do that, because I know you, and know that you'd say there was no other choice."
"Oh, to hell with that. He's a friend. All the agents are my friends, whether I get on well with them or not. I take care of my friends. That's all."
"I like to think I take care of mine, too. Sometimes I make mistakes, though."
"Are you going to make a speech?"
"I'll try not to. I'm glad you're not worse off than you are. You've probably got at least four weeks off coming; with the physical therapy, it might be six or more. What will you do with all that nice time?"
"I resigned, Jenny. Or have you forgotten?"
"You left me no written resignation. And if you said anything, well, I was unconscious for a short time and didn't hear it. In my mind, you're still one of my supervisory special agents. Stop by my office at you earliest convenience and pick up your badge and gun."
Klara squinted at her. "Are you serious?? I socked you! If I come back, what ramifications will I face because of that?"
"None." Jenny looked at her directly.
"None??"
"I think I deserved the punch. My…priorities were askew. Will you come back, Klara? There's probably only so many weeks that Gibbs can handle both teams before he freaks out and runs back to Mexico."
They both laughed. "Ah, nuts. I'm officially 'back' and yet I can't finish off the op that McGee and I were in on," Klara lamented.
"You can, from a distance. Tell me all that you know about the house, and I'll pass it on to Gibbs. It's not quite half past 7 now; they're going to raid the place at 8."
- - - - -
A half dozen additional NCIS agents gathered with Gibbs' group in the early morning light. The sun was barely up, and all was gray. Taking advantage of the dawn, Gibbs directed people to hiding places near the front door. Two agents had the street cordoned off at either end of the block to prevent any real deliveries from interfering with their plans.
Gibbs, Tony and Ziva would be the leading force at the front door; glib Tony posing as the delivery man (and wearing a nondescript outfit for that). Joe, Balere and Mickey would watch the back door and prevent escapes. The other four agents would swoop in the front with Gibbs' group when the door opened. Tim would be there, too. Right now he was conferring with Gibbs in the van while Tony scurried off to borrow the white van of one of the other agents. He would use that as his "delivery vehicle."
A raised hand stopped Tim in mid-sentence as Gibbs' phone rang. Tim looked a little put out, and Ziva gave him a smile and a wink to cheer him up as Gibbs put it on speaker setting.
"Yeah, Abbs; what'cha got?"
"Gibbs, you know when I talked to you last night I said I just wasn't sure about the blood found in Lindholm's car?"
"I remember. But Abby—"
"Hear me out, Gibbs. This isn't easy to say. I'll admit now, I had the answer last night, but I didn't like it so I thought I'd wait until this morning and go over everything again. And now I have. I've retested it, and compared it to DNA here. And Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs; I can't bear to say it, hardly, but that blood is Tim's. No doubt about it. And there's a lot of it."
"Abby—"
"Oh, Gibbs; what did she do to him?? I'm so scared, Gibbs…"
"Abby! Tim is fine! Klara Schultz got him out of the house in Silver Spring where he was being held prisoner overnight. I have him right here with me."
"He's fine?"
"Near perfect health. We had him checked out at the hospital."
Gibbs could hear her sharp intake of breath. "Gibbs, that was a huge blood loss, and just within the last 24 hours. And it's definitely Tim's. It matches the DNA traces I found on his coffee mug and hairs on
the comb he keeps in his desk. I don't know who you have there with you, but that can't be our Tim McGee."
Gibbs' and Ziva's eyes swiveled toward Tim.
"No!!" he shrieked, feeling the paranoia returning full force. "I don't know what she's talking about, boss! I'm me! McGee!"
"Are you?" Gibbs asked sternly.
"Who else would I be?" Tim said, and the tears came in a flow. This is it. My psychosis has arrived. Maybe none of this is happening…
"Abbs, I'll call you back," Gibbs said, hanging up, and placing a new call. "Jen? We have a big problem…"