A/N: It's been forever. Sorry. Finals wore me down to a nub. Then I started writing this and couldn't figure out what it was supposed to say. Small breakthrough today after re-writing it several times. Please let me know what you think. I'm eager to know how the story is going for you. Sheila

P. S. I can't wait for Swan Song tomorrow night.

Surviving Winter

Chapter 13

It was almost dawn before Gibbs and Reynolds found the ornate old building currently housing Marine officers. Reynolds knocked hard and the turned to his old friend. "Coming here is no guarantee. Major Eames is not in good graces with Winter. He filed a complaint against the Colonel. Sec Nav dismissed it. The Major has been forced to finish out his deployment in charge of the motor pool. Man had a spotless record until he got this assignment. Motor pool is getting sabotaged in one way or another every week. I suspect its Winter's doing. Eames is taking the heat. He'll be lucky to get out of the service with an honorable discharge at this rate. You just need to know that he's likely to be more worried about his pension right now than helping us out in any way."

The door opened to a short balding man who squinted at Reynolds. "What the hell are you waking me up for, Staff Sergeant? Has someone set fire to the damn motor pool? If so, let it burn."

Reynolds took a breath. "I'm here with an old friend, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, former Gunnery Sergeant. He's with NCIS now. We have a favor to ask."

Eames shook his head as he let them into his small Afghani apartment. "I have about as much influence around here as the new batch of privates arriving in the next convoy. I can't help you."

"Well, sir, we're pretty desperate and I picked you because you've been the only one around here with the cojones to do the right thing when it comes to the Colonel."

Eames froze. "I've been in the service for 17 years. I screw with him again, and I lose my pension. I got a wife and three daughters. I can't risk it. Whatever you need is not something I can help you with."

"We're desperate, sir. It's a matter of life and death."

Eames flung out his arm. "Everything around here is a matter of life and death. I did what I could and I got burned. My career is going up in flames right now with all sabotage happening in the motor pool. But I had to be a hero. Now I got three more months of this nightmare. After that, I'm going back to Pendleton, taking a desk job, and not making another sound until my 20 years hits. I'm sorry but I can't help you."

"Can we at least tell you the story?"

Eames shook his head. "I'm sorry. You gentlemen better leave. I can't touch this."

"You've been in the Corps 17 years." Gibbs spoke for the first time.

"I have."

"I was in 16 years. Had a daughter and a wife. Lost them in a drug-related shooting while I was in Desert Storm."

Eames flinched. "I'm sorry to hear it, Gunny."

Gibbs sat down in a chair. "I was really lost for a long time, but I couldn't let go. Ended up at NCIS as a field agent. I have a team now. They're the best agents I've ever seen. It's the closest I have to a family."

Eames sat down on the couch across from him.

Gibbs took a breath. "I had…have this one who came to me as green as spring grass. Didn't know whether to train him or burp him. Made me uncomfortable just being in the same room. Won't have taken him if he wasn't so frickin' talented. He was so nervous he stuttered, too eager to please, and didn't look a day over nineteen. You know the type. He was my probie."

Eames nodded. "I've had a few like that."

Gibbs shook his head. "Some of 'em don't make it. They don't have the right stuff or they're too young or the pressure gets to them, but then every once in a while, you get one that won't give up. He'll work around the clock for you. He listens to you like you discovered fire. And he learns. Before you know it, he's turned into a fine agent and a fine man. Ever had one of those?"

"My aide, Lieutenant Billings, was like that. I thought he wasn't going to last a week. He was with me six years. He was like a son to me. Got killed six months ago during a raid. Barely 28 years old. Just married. Wife gave birth to a son three months ago. Baby will never know his daddy. Winter didn't warn my unit about missile attacks in our area. We were caught unawares. Billings was getting my morning coffee when a U.S. missile struck the mess tent. Killed four people. Wounded 39. It still hasn't been reported as a friendly fire incident." The bitterness in Eames' voice cut the air.

Gibbs leaned forward. "Winter stole my Billings. He's been with me almost 8 years. Name is McGee. Computer genius. Winter took him for a 3-month mission. When we complained too much about his treatment of McGee, he arranged to have him kidnapped and then staged a fake beheading. In the process, four Marines were killed and four others held in captivity for a week. I came here to find his body. Now, I have intelligence that says that McGee might still be alive. Winter's still using him, but he's never going to allow him leave this country alive. Winter's going to kill my probie if I don't find him first."

Eames shook his head. "What could I possibly do to help?"

"We need to locate a Sergeant Tilson. Reynolds here knows him, but says he works directly under the auspices of Winter. We need to find him. He has my…McGee."

"And if I get caught and lose my pension?"

Gibbs sighed. "Are you willing to live in Virginia? I'll give you the deed to my house. Four bedrooms. We can put it in writing."

Eames snorted. "Sorry. It was a stupid question. I know Tilson. He's one of Winter's thugs. He does whatever Winter wants. No job is too dirty. Tilson's probably off the grid. Can't track him in the usual way. The only way to reach him is through Winter's direct communications. Don't know that I can get in. Not many people around Winter talking to me these days."

"Major, you have more friends than you know." Reynolds said. "A lot of people admire what you did. They may not be wiling to say it, but you got more support out there than you know. Whether you can help or not, I'm going to make sure that the sabotage at the Motor Pool stops. We're going to double the guard."

"I don't have the resources for that, Sergeant."

Reynolds smiled. "I do and I'm going to make it happen."

Eames sighed. "I'll go over to the Command Post. See what I can do."

Gibbs sighed. "Thank you, Major. It means a lot."

Reynolds nodded. "Come on, Jethro. I got get you and your Duck doctor onto a transport to Kandahar. We want you in the right area when we find Tilson."

…

The Corporal in the guardhouse looked at them suspiciously, but made the connection to the MRAP in question nonetheless. Dunham flashed his security clearance at him and the soldier reluctantly left the room. DiNozzo looked at Dunham before he picked up the open line. "I got this, B.B. I'm calling you that now because Bigboote' is just embarrassing to say."

Dunham shrugged.

"Hello? Hello? This is Captain DiNozzo calling Lieutenant Roman. Come in, Lietenant."

"Captain DiNozzo?" came the crackled reply. "I'm afraid I don't know you, sir."

"I'm new, Lietenant, but you would know that if you read the weekly base bulletins that come out like you are supposed to."

"Ah, yes sir. What can I do for you, sir?"

"I have a record here that says you picked up a Lieutenant Scott Thomas and a Sergeant Tilson two days ago. Is that correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Did you notice that the Lieutenant was quite ill?"

"I did sir. Argued with the Sergeant about it. Man was a bulldog. Insisted we take him north."

"Is the Lieutenant still with you?"

"No sir. The Lieutenant started coughing something awful. I told the Lieutenant I was taking him back to the clinic. Said I didn't care whose orders he was following. Sergeant convinced me to drop him and the Lieutenant off about an hour north of Kandahar at an outpost. Said he would get the man back to the clinic on his own. We had a mission timeline, and so I really didn't argue."

"Please give me coordinates on that outpost, Lieutenant. And after this, I'm going to expect that you read every weekly bulletin like it's your family bible. You got me, Lieutenant! I expect you in my office next week telling me everything it says in there."

"Yes sir!"

Tony got off the line and looked at Dunham. "How fast can we get us a Humvee?"

Dunham smiled. "I like a man who can tell lies like a champion. Let me know if you ever want to change horses and come to live in a hostile country, be in constant danger of assassination, and do illegal operations that interfere with other people's governments. I think we could find a place for you around here."

"Ah, that's a mighty sweet offer, B.B. I'll have to mull it over sometime when I'm too drunk to know what I'm doing. Now let's go find my probie."

…

He felt wetness on his lips and he welcomed the water in his mouth and down his throat. His eyes fluttered open and he saw Tilson holding the water in one hand and pills in the other. With what little strength he had, he slapped the hands away, water and pills tumbling to the tent floor. Tilson cursed, his face reddening.

McGee shook his head. "Keep your poison away from me."

"You idiot!" Tilson growled. "I'm trying to keep you alive."

"I don't know what's in that water," McGee mumbled, his cheeks flush with fever.

"Look at me! Do I look like the kind of guy that's going to poison you? For Christ's sakes, you've been asleep for six hours. There are at least twenty different objects in this room I could have used to bludgeon you to death, if I wanted."

"Thank you for outlining that possibility, Tilson. I hadn't considered it."

"I can't do it! I called Winter and told him that I couldn't do it. I failed him. My career is over!"

McGee rubbed at his hot face. "What did Winter say?"

Tilson shook his head. "He said he understood, but I know the Colonel. I could hear the ice in his voice. He's pissed and he's sending reinforcements to relieve me."

"Good. Maybe they'll get me to a hospital."

"You think you understand Winter, don't you? You think he's going to take care of you?"

Tim blinked. "You said he was a good man. You said you'd follow him anywhere."

"Yeah, because that's who I am and that's what I do. But I'm a fool if I don't trust my gut about the edge I heard in his voice. I know him and I know that edge. I don't know what you did, but you're standing in his way, and that doesn't work for the Colonel. I'm conflicted all to hell now."

"I've only done what he's asked. It doesn't make any sense." McGee pulled the blanket up closer around his body.

Tilson looked at him for a long moment. "I'm going to lose everything over this and you better be worth it, McGee. I'm going outside to think. Don't make sense to lose everything over someone like you."

…..

Reynolds took a call from Major Eames right before the transport took off. He wrote down a number and gave it to Gibbs. "He says it's Tilson's cell phone number, the one that Winter uses."

Gibbs nodded. "Transport isn't going to wait. I'll call him when we land in Kandahar."

Ducky and Wilson climbed in ahead of him. Gibbs stopped and smiled at Reynolds. "I won't forget this."

Reynolds nodded. "Find that boy and bring him home. A miracle would do all of us a lot of good."

Gibbs scrambled up the stairs to the plane and pulled the door closed behind him. Wilson and Ducky were strapping themselves sitting on the hard benches against the hull. Gibbs closed his eyes and said a silent prayer before buckling in beside them.

….

The outpost near Kandahar was largely deserted. It usually held troops before they went north. The Sergeant at the gate remembered Tilson, but hadn't seen any companion with him. Tony's gut constricted, but he merely nodded and followed Dunhan outside. It was very windy and sand cut at his face. Dunham had purchased long turban cloth for both of them, but Tony was still getting the hang of wearing it around his face.

It was a quiet yet eerie place. DiNozzo felt something profound growing in his gut. He kept one hand on his weapon at all times. Pinpointing the right tent was complicated among the sea of them. There must have been 60 erected in rows. Dunham took one row and Tony another. Tony approached each tent like he was making a bust. Weapon drawn, he crept along the side to the opening, announced himself and kicked the wooden door in. They were all empty. The tension and the stress were weighing on him, and his arms and legs started shaking after the 12th tent. Then he heard a shout and almost his weapon.

"DiNozzo! Third row. 9th one from the gate."

Tony caught his breath and started running. He almost forgot that his weapon was drawn, and had to slow when he tripped and almost discharged it. He tried to keep his eyes on everything, alert to any sudden movement, but Tony couldn't control the panic he felt in his gut. Dunham was waiting outside the tent for him and Tony slowed, his chest heaving. "Is he here, Chad?"

Dunham nodded. "You go in, buddy. I'll watch the door."

DiNozzo stumbled through the door. The tent was dim save for the light coming from a canvas window near the top. The room smelled stale and musky, and it took Tony a minute to find McGee propped up in the corner, covered in blankets. His head was resting on his shoulder, and at first, Tony was sure that he was dead, but even in the poor light, he could see enough color on McGee's face to give him hope. He put down his weapon and climbed on the cot with him, putting a hand on McGee's hot, flushed face. "Tim! Can you hear me? Tim!"

McGee moaned, setting off a barking cough. He winced through the pain, holding his arms tightly around his sides.

"Tim! It's Tony!"

McGee's fevered eyes opened. He searched Tony's face. "You look like my friend, Tony DiNozzo. It's probably delirium. My fever's high."

DiNozzo grabbed his shoulders. "It's me. Gibbs and Ducky and I came to find you."

"Is it? Does it mean that I'm finished with the mission?"

Tony felt his forehead and his brow. "Yeah, Timmy, you finished the mission and now it's time to go home. Man, you're burning up."

McGee let out a whimper. "Oh God, I'm so glad, Tony. It's been really rough. I didn't think Winter was ever going to let me go."

Tony searched his eyes in concern. "Tim, how did you get so sick?"

"Pneumonia. Bad rib. Tired. Sad. I don't know anymore. I didn't turn out to be much of a soldier. You woulda' done better."

Tony patted his flushed cheek. "Not true. Not true at all. You were a real hero around here. Helped a lot of soldiers."

"I was a hostage. The Taliban. It was bad. I thought they beheaded me, but I didn't die. I worried that you would get bad news, but Winter told you all that I made it. There were four Marines with me. Just kids really, but good soldiers. I've been looking for them. I've been so worried about them. What if they did the same thing to them? It's such an awful way to die and they were just kids."

Tony closed his eyes. Winter never told McGee about those kids. He needed McGee feeling desperate and guilty so he wouldn't stop working. He looked into McGee's eyes. "Tim, those four Marines came home. They're alive. They're just waiting for you to come home too."

McGee's chin trembled and another whimper escaped. "Is that a lie? There have been so many lies."

Tony pulled him into his arms and hugged him. "It's the real truth. Boss saw them, all of them. They're okay, Probie."

McGee sobbed in short bursts until the pain in his chest grew. He calmed his emotions, laying his head quietly on Tony's shoulder and slowing his breathing until the pain subsided.

DiNozzo rubbed the back of his head. "When we get back, Probie, we're going to find each and every one of those Marines so you can see for yourself."

"I never told my family that I was going to Afghanistan. Did they find out I was a hostage? Are they okay?"

Tony thought about the pain they'd all suffered over the last month, but he couldn't bring himself to tell McGee about it. "They're okay, McGee. We're all okay."

McGee struggled to sit up again. "Where's Tilson? I've been waiting for him to come back."

Tony steadied him against the corner of the tent. "Tilson's going to kill you, Tim."

McGee shook his head, the distress shining in his eyes. "He doesn't know what to do. He told me that Winter wants me dead. It makes no sense. Why would Winter want me dead? I did everything he asked, Tony. I don't get it and I don't know what to believe anymore."

It amazed him that McGee couldn't see the conspiracy actively surrounding him, but then he remembered how sick he was and the trauma he'd been through. "Don't worry about any of it. We're going to get you home first and then we'll sort through it all."

"Hey, I got an idea." Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket.

….

Gibbs paced the airfield outside of Kandahar. He'd tried to call Tilson several times, but the man wouldn't pick up. Ducky came toward him, loaded down with medical supplies from the local infirmary. The wind blew sand all around, and it reminded Gibbs of his time in Kuwait and Iraq.

His phone buzzed and he grabbed at it, hoping to reason with Tilson, but it was DiNozzo's number. "Tony," He barked into it. "What do you know? Have you found him?"

"Hold on, Boss."

Gibbs waited, a hand shielding his face against the sand. Ducky dropped the supplies on the ground and stood next to him.

"Hey Boss," came a shadow of a voice.

Gibbs' breath caught. "McGee! McGee, is that you!"

"I haven't talked to you in so long, Boss. It's been tough. I wanted to talk to you, but Winter said it was too dangerous. I can't remember why."

"Are you okay, Tim?"

"I'm pretty sick, Boss, but Tony's here and he says I'm going home. Is the three months up?"

Gibbs rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, McGee. Actually, it's been more like a lifetime."

Gibbs tried to swallow his emotions, but it was a struggle. He turned and saw a broad smile on Ducky's face. "Hey Tim, say hi to Ducky. Tell him what's wrong with you?"

Ducky grabbed the phone. "Timothy! You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice!"

"I'm in a bit of trouble, Ducky. Pneumonia. High fever. Bad pain in my chest. I feel pretty weak. I can't get to my feet anymore."

"You sound horrible. Are you taking antibiotics?"

"I wouldn't let Tilson give them to me. I thought he was trying to poison. Plus, they're the same kind I took before. They didn't work."

"When did you last eat, Timothy? Have you had anything to drink?"

"I won't take fluids from Tilson. As for eating, I don't know. Can't remember how long I've been here. I've been sleeping so much. Lots of fever. Coughing. My chest hurts very badly."

"Put Tony on."

Ducky waited until Tony greeted him. "You need to get some liquids in him now, Tony! Very important! He'll slip into shock if you don't. Cut up a protein bar. Feed it to him in small bites. We need to get him to a hospital. How far away are you?"

"It's only an hour, Duck."

Gibbs pulled the phone away. "Tony, can you get him on some transport or do we need to come for you?"

There was no reply. Then the phone went dead.

…

Tilson held a brawny arm around Dunham's throat. The man was unconscious and bleeding from his head. In the other hand was a gun pointed directly at McGee's head. Tilson's eyes bore into Tony's. "Drop the phone or McGee dies. I ain't going to hesitate. I've been on the verge of killing him for the last three days. It ain't going to be a problem for me."

"Tilson!" McGee shouted.

"Don't say a word, you son of a bitch! I called Winter again. He told me how you got those four Marines killed. They were kids, you asshole! Should never of listened to you. He said you'd have agents trying to get you of here. I won't have it. I may be a fool but I ain't no dumb fool."

Tony licked his lips. "Sergeant, it's not true. McGee didn't kill any Marines."

"Shut up or I shoot you first!"

"You're going to have to, Sergeant 'cause I'm not letting you touch him!" Tony leaned against McGee protectively.

Tilson nodded and straightened his arm. "Then let's do it, boys."

Two shots fired out.

…

TBC