LIKE IT WAS MEANT TO BE

Chapter 8

Gibbs was the first to recover and in no time he'd undone his life jacket before squirming past the others, now holding onto one person's shoulder for support, then wrapping his fingers around the life lines.

He dove as close as possible to the spot where they'd last seen their teammate. Tony raised on his feet to follow, but the skipper withheld him by forcing him down again, holding Tony's gaze with a shake of his head.

"Don't." Plain and simple. Why spill more words? He busied himself tying the activated EPIRB on the exterior lines.

"But..." Ziva protested.

"No! Face it: your friend is a goner. And your boss, will soon be, too." He leaned back and shrugged before continuing. "Not a clever thing he did – jumping after the other one. Can't have more risking their lives for just one man."

Both Ziva and Tony saw the sense in what he said, and they had to admit the man was just being realistic, but still... For the love of God! This was their comrade he was talking about!

"One man? Just one man? He's our friend! " Ziva yelled, just this side of controlling her fury at this man's rather callous remark - devoid of any feeling. "What's more: Gibbs, our boss, is a marine. He will always have our sixes!"

"Always!" She added sadly as she stared at the spot where the water had closed over McGee's head and Gibbs, as he'd dived in shortly afterwards.

"Next time you'll be thinking twice who you'll take with you on a...on such a mission... It was pathetic. That man was a liability to himself and to others. It's all fine if tourists puke their guts out...good for the fish...but an agent? Naval? What a joke!"

Tony blanched and sought to get at the man. For God's sake! A man might lose his life here and another in his attempt to rescue him! He didn't even want to consider the possibility that his Probie might be dead already! His eyes were frosty with the barely contained anger as he stared at the water, his lips clamped shut for fear of losing what little self control he still possessed, and folded his arms, with hands fisted, across his chest, as he sat there, in the now gently rocking craft.

The skipper, however, was utterly unaware of the intense feelings he'd stirred in the remaining team members as he'd already retreated in his own bleak thoughts. Losing a boat...his boat... Not the most luxurious, but all his. He couldn't forget the last minute when she went down, stern first, her bows upright and proud...a bit like in that Titanic movie, only...there the bows had gone first.

He sighed. The end had been quick.

Ziva was staring at the young couple, who, still in shock, huddled for warmth. Pellowe had wrapped a blanket around them both and his arm lay protectively on the girl's shoulders as she clung to him, like she was never ever going to let go of him.

Ziva's thoughts were a jumble of emotions. She couldn't believe she'd just lost her best friend...someone dear to her, and another good man had jumped after Tim... And for what? For those two who were, figuratively as well as literally, in the same boat as them and that because of their selfish act of...of...flitting?

Her thoughts went back to that moment when they'd cut loose the line of the life raft. She had kept her eyes locked on the sinking vessel, hoping against hope that McGee would still manage to free himself and clamber up on deck... In fact, he did...only a little late to play it safe.

Then, after the collision, there were their two runaways, Lorraine Daring and Hugh Pellowe, clinging to the remains of their boat, shivering and scared.

The skipper had delved in the backpack he'd taken with him into the raft and produced a rope, with a monkey's fist attached to the end. He had given it a few small swings until he finally let it fly in the direction of the other castaways. Pellowe had been able to catch the rope and fasten it on the piece of wreckage he and Lorraine were on.

The skipper and Gibbs made quick work of pulling the two young people to the life raft and help them on board. And it was just in time.

Now, she looked away from them in disgust and her eyes rested on Tony who was all attention and excitement as his gaze was fixed on a disturbance in the water.

Suddenly, a hand, followed by the rest of a body, broke through the surface with a deep and loud intake of breath, followed by harsh coughing and thrashing.

Gibbs' wild eyes sought the raft as he kicked his legs to remain afloat with the extra dead weight of McGee.

There was a flurry of activity as the skipper tossed a line to Gibbs who just managed to grab a hold of it. The captain towed Gibbs and his...uncooperative burden...closer.

Tony and Pellowe both sprang into action and grabbed at McGee whom Gibbs was pushing as close to the raft as possible as he himself held onto the raft's lifelines.

Clutching hands pulled a seemingly lifeless Tim over the side and he landed like a sack in the bottom. Tony and Pellowe quickly set to stripping him, before encasing his torso in a blanket.

Ziva immediately knelt by the still form of her co-worker and checked for breathing and a pulse. She was near to panic when finding neither, but then, after what seemed like a very long time, she did feel a heartbeat, albeit very weak and slow...much too slow... She didn't waste any more time and set to practising CPR on McGee. It wasn't an easy thing to do as the bottom of the life boat wasn't exactly flat and solid.

Tony, meanwhile, helped an exhausted and struggling Gibbs back on board. Both men ended up sitting side by side: one shuddering badly and breathing heavily with fatigue and the other letting out an immense sigh of relief as he looked sideways at his boss. But when his gaze travelled over to Ziva, stooped over McGee, very slowly mouth-to-mouth breathing for him, and then starting compressions, and continuing this activity over and over again, he felt sick inside. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gibbs also watching the scene with dread.
Probie still wasn't breathing on his own... Just the rising and falling of his chest as Ziva kept up exhaling in Tim's mouth, holding his chin and nose.

Tony moved over to them and pulled his friend's eyelids open to check the pupils. Dilated. Not a good sign... Not good at all. But that was only to be expected. He grabbed Tim's hand, which, like the rest of his body, felt rigid. It was so cold... McGee's slight built certainly didn't help to keep some body heat.

He knew Ziva was tiring and he took over the treatment, trying to remember the special classes he – as every NCIS agent got – had attended. There still was no improvement. No visible vital signs.

Tony took up a better position and exhaled his own warm moist air in his friend's mouth...out...'don't give up'...in...out...'never give up'...in...compressions...breathing...compressions..."don't give up, Probie"...

Ziva took over the breathing whilst Tony continued compressing the heart, keeping a steady rhythm...for as long as it would take... Tony angrily brushed his sleeve over his face to wipe away a tear. Then he pressed again on the sternum. With every compression, the survivors felt the bottom of the life raft depress.

Gibbs, despite the dire situation, and him shivering badly, couldn't feel anything but pride seeing how Ziva and Tony were working in tandem, doing everything in their power to save their friend and teammate.

He sighed as he closed his eyes, unable to get rid of the sight of this deathly pale and blue McGee. "The boy, already looks past saving...dead already..." What? Where did that come from? His eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, all forgotten about his own discomfort.

Tony's gaze flitted towards his boss as he caught from the corner of his eyes the sudden jolting movement the other man made. What he saw, was not encouraging. Gibbs' shivering became more pronounced and gave no sign of abating, which wasn't too bad. It meant his body still found the necessary energy to generate and increase some heat. The question was: how long before he would succumb to the inevitable exhaustion?

Ziva followed his gaze before turning her eyes back to Tony, still continuing her ministrations.
Tony and Ziva kept up the CPR on their partner. They knew it was out of question to stop, fully understanding it would mean the end for Tim if they did.
The captain moved to sit next to Gibbs who was still shivering badly despite the blanket wrapped around him. As soon as he'd been helped on board, the captain and Pellowe had helped him out of his wet clothes as gently as possible, before wrapping him in a blanket.

Gibbs slid further down the side of the raft as his eyes closed. The skipper, having kept a vigilant eye on the other occupants of the raft, including Gibbs, had known the man was getting worse. He huddled closer to share his own body heat with the other man who was now drifting in and out of consciousness. Things weren't looking too good for Gibbs, either.

They all settled as best they could, having no idea how fast rescue was in coming or what chance of survival the young agent – and his boss - had.