Chapter 2
Tony watched silently as a the remains of Tim's car were loaded onto a flatbed, wondering when he'd be able to check on his partner. More than two hours had passed since Tim had been taken from the scene and Tony was desperate for news. He had tried to call the hospital several times but they had been unwilling to give him any information over the phone, despite his assurances that he was not a journalist seeking to scoop his competitors on the big story of the day.
Gibbs had argued with the state highway patrol officers for the team to be allowed to leave after they had been rebuffed in their offer to document and collect evidence for what had happened to their fourth member, but the extent of the pileup that had occurred as the result of the accident kept the state investigators too busy with the scores of witnesses and injured drivers to finish taking their statements and release them. For the first time in recent memory the remaining MCRT members were being treated as witnesses rather than investigators, a fact that did not ease Tony's anxiety or frustration in the least.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and Tony yanked it out to check the number, groaning softly when he saw who it was.
"Hey Abby," he answered, barely managing to keep his voice steady.
"Where are you guys? Ducky and Jimmy got back over an hour ago. I heard there was a big accident and-"
"Still waiting for it to be cleared."
"Wow. Gibbs must be pissed."
"Understatement of the century, Abbs." It took him a moment to parse what she had said. "Wait. Ducky and Palmer are back? How?"
"Jimmy said they pulled off to get gas and apparently just missed it. Someone told them about the pile-up and they took another route back."
"Oh. Lucky them."
"Is Tim with you? I tried calling him and I kept getting a message that his phone is out of service, which is weird, because your phone is working and…"
Tony was wondering how in the hell he was going to answer that question when he felt a presence behind him and turned to see Gibbs, eyebrows raised in query. Tony just handed the phone to him and he put it up to his ear to listen.
"Abbs? Yeah, it's me. Hold on a minute." He covered the speaker with his hand and tilted his head towards a group of uniformed men standing a few yards away. "SHP wants to talk to you. Go, I'll handle this."
"Finally," Tony muttered under his breath. "Thanks, Boss." I'm not envying you that conversation. He started walking towards the men and stopped when something caught his eye: a dark blue cap, flattened by one or more of the vehicles. He nudged it over with his foot and his heart stuttered in his chest when he saw a familiar set of white letters and recognized it as Tim's swoop cap, no doubt removed when he had climbed into his car and flung from the car as it rolled into the median. His rational mind yelled at him not to pick up evidence which he ignored as he slowly plucked the cap from the ground and turned it over in his hands.
"Agent DiNozzo?"
He looked up to see one of the state troopers watching him with a sympathetic expression.
"Yeah. Sorry, I…"
The trooper, whose name tag identified him as Hendricks just nodded. "I understand you saw the car that caused the accident beforehand. What can you tell me?"
"It was...the driver didn't seem to have control of the car. It swerved a couple of times and I was getting ready to call it in when it hit a tractor-trailer traveling next to it. That caused it to spin out and it crossed into the left lane directly behind us. I heard the impact." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, pushing down that horrible memory. "I yelled at my Boss to stop and I ran back to the scene."
Hendricks nodded again. "That correlates to what we've been able to determine so far. You didn't hear or see anything else? No signs of road rage? Gunfire?"
"No. I didn't see any outside cause for the driver to lose control. Did you find a cause for that?"
"Not yet."
"Let me know when you do."
"My boss will let your boss know."
"Good."
Hendricks' expression softened. "Have you heard anything on Agent McGee?"
"No. I've called, but…"
"They won't talk to you without proper authorization. Of course." His tone indicated what he thought of that particular policy. He turned to his supervisor, eyebrows raised, and after a moment received a brief nod in return. "I need to head over there anyway. Want a lift?"
"Thanks. I just need to check-"
"Go, Tony," Gibbs replied as he moved into Tony's line of sight. "Keep us 'll be there as soon as we can."
"Got it. Is Abby OK?"
"Ducky's with her for now."
"Right. I let you know…" Gibbs squeezed his shoulder in silent support and headed off towards the MCRT truck where Ziva was waiting. Tony followed Hendricks to his cruiser and climbed in the front seat, hoping there would be news when he finally arrived at GW, and once again ignoring the rational (and dishearteningly pessimistic) part of his mind that was telling him Tim probably hadn't survived the journey to the trauma center.
Hendricks had clued in to Tony's state of mind rather quickly and hadn't tried to make conversation during the trip. When they arrived at the center, he dropped Tony off at the door and the agent rushed in, searching for someone who could give him an update. He finally located the information desk and after flashing his badge and demanding answers, a rather harried nurse explained that Tim has finally been stabilized and taken to surgery barely ninety minutes prior to Tony's arrival. She then informed him that there was a quiet area where he could wait to hear from one of the doctors working on Tim and pointed him to an alcove with several uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs. Tony flopped into one of them and, frowning at the NO CELL PHONES IN USE signs and the muted TV set to ZNN, he settled in to wait.
The hours slowly passed, leaving Tony to replay images from those moments surrounding the crash over and over again in his mind. He still couldn't believe that Tim had actually survived, and while he was not a praying man he pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening that Tim would make it through this latest tragedy and be able to return to full health, and soon. He made frequent trips to the information desk to ask for updates but each time he was rebuffed by an increasingly distracted and annoyed nurse. Finally he returned to his seat, leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping that trying to catch 40 winks would make the time pass more quickly.
Over an hour later Tony jerked awake and checked his watch, alarmed to find that it was almost the end of the work day and he still hadn't heard from Tim's doctors. He was ready to storm the OR when he saw a familiar group of figures pass his alcove.
"Boss!" Gibbs turned and when he caught sight of the agent he quickly moved towards the waiting area, followed by Ziva, Ducky, and a very quiet and teary-eyed Abby.
"What have you heard?" Gibbs demanded.
"Nothing. I was just getting ready to go ask again, and-"
"I will go," Ducky offered and marched off towards the information desk.
"Nothing at all?" Ziva asked, and Tony felt a surge or irritation.
"Isn't that what I just said?"
"Hey!" Gibbs' voice was not loud but his tone made it seem like a shout. Tony flinched and ducked his head.
"Sorry, Boss. I'm sorry, Ziva, I…"
"You have had a bad day. We all have."
"Not as bad as McGee," he muttered and Ziva nodded in silent agreement.
"Boss, do we know-" Gibbs held up a hand and reached in his pocket to retrieve his vibrating cell phone.
"Leon." He glanced around, his gaze pausing on the TV. "Yeah, why? OK." He walked found the TV remote and turned on the sound. The TV wasn't loud, but the group could still hear the reporter talking, announcing a press conference by the SHP on the accident that morning. Soon a group of men in uniform, along with two younger men and a middle-aged woman in business suits appeared on the screen, all standing at attention behind podium, their expressions grave. One of the men, who was introduced as the deputy superintendent of the patrol stepped up to the podium and started to speak as the team settled into chairs to watch.
Tony listened, his heart sinking. Twenty-five people had been injured in the accident which involved fifteen passenger vehicles and the semi that had been struck by the green Terrain. Five were still in the hospital, and the driver of the car that had caused the accident had been pronounced dead at the scene. The spokesman explained that it was one of the worst pile-ups in Virginia's history, but the scene had been cleared efficiently and traffic patterns had returned to normal. The victims names were not being released until their families could be contacted.
As he finished speaking, the members of the press began to clamor for attention. He acknowledged the reporter from ZNN, who nodded to her cameraman and stepped forward.
"I understand that there were federal agents at the scene. What were they investigating?"
"The agents in question happened to be driving through when the accident happened. They are not involved in the investigation."
"What about the witness claim that one of the agents ignored the driver who caused the accident to help another victim. A little passing of judgement at the scene, maybe?"
Cold bands of dread wrapped Tony's heart. Did he unconsciously dole out revenge by neglecting to help a critically injured civilian? When he glanced back up at the screen the woman had stepped forward, and text appeared on the screen identifying her as Dr. Margaret Cushman, Medical Examiner.
"Based on my preliminary examination, the driver who allegedly caused the accident suffered a severe intracerebral hemorrhagic stroke, for which there is a high probability that it was almost instantly fatal. The deceased was very likely dead before their vehicle struck the other car that was forced off the road. There was nothing anyone at the scene could have done to change that outcome. It was an accident, nothing more."
"What about the driver of the second car. Any word on their condition?"
"We are not releasing any information until we have contacted the family."
"Because you don't know anything yet, either," Tony observed before he raised his head and looked out into the hallway. "What's taking so long?" he asked plaintively when the M.E. failed to reappear.
"Easy, Tony. Duck will be back as soon as he knows something." The fact that Gibbs was trying to comfort him did not ease Tony's anxiety in the least. He stood and walked out into the main hallway, unable to sit and watch as footage from the scene played over and over on the TV. After several minutes of pacing, he finally saw Ducky approaching, his expression somber.
"Did you find out anything? How is he? Is he going to be OK?"
Ducky held up a hand and Tony immediately shut up. "I was able to speak to the O.R. staff, and they informed me that they are nearly finished and one of Timothy's surgeons will come to speak with us as soon as possible. We will just have to wait."
"I've been waiting. I need to know…"
"As do well all." Ducky patted his shoulder. "It won't be much longer, Anthony. I promise."
Tony returned to his seat and ignored the TV, which Gibbs had already muted again. The minutes passed with agonizing slowness and it was nearly an hour before a weary-looking woman in scrubs entered the waiting room.
"You're all here for Timothy McGee?" She checked the paperwork on the clipboard in her hand. "I have quite a list of people to whom I'm authorized to speak. I take it you are all on this list?" Without hesitation they all nodded. "Very well. If you'll follow me, I'd like to speak to you in private in one of our conference rooms." They nodded again and she turned and started walking back down the hall, silently followed by the group. Tony hoped they would be given good news, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that nothing was ever that simple.
TBC...