Chapter 11

The skipper was the first one to peek out from under the canopy when the occupants of the life raft heard the radio voice of the SAR Hercules overhead.

He wearily looked up at the sky where the voice hailed from, shading his eyes with his hand.

Yep! It was there alright! That helicopter buzzing overhead was a sight for literally sore eyes.

He felt someone brush against him, trying to push his or her way to the opening to have a look, too. He turned to see who, and a smile slowly spread on his weather worn face as he pointed to the helicopter.

"We're saved, Agent David! We're saved!"

Ziva nodded, her face streaked with tears. She turned back and let her eyes go over the others who lay sprawled in various positions in the small raft, her gaze finally coming to rest on the two of her team laying side by side in the bottom of the raft.

Gibbs, having regained some level of consciousness, let his gaze dwell over his agent as the others were in rapt contemplation, pushing like children to obtain a better view from the opening.

The only other person who hadn't moved from his place was Cadet Hugh Pellowe. He just sat there, seemingly unperturbed by all the excitement.

Gibbs' eyes left McGee's prone and still body to settle on the quiet young officer, in time to catch the sudden flicker of the other's eyes indicating that his attention, previously directed inward, now had shifted to both the older agent regarding him with a calm, steady gaze, and the young unconscious agent.

No words were needed; Pellowe's look said it all. It was one that betrayed and transferred to the watching Gibbs a plethora of emotions. Every way his gaze moved, evoked a different sentiment. Looking at Tim, there was concern, regret, sorrow, fear, guilt, grief...and yet hope, too. Seeing his girlfriend, love and tenderness were predominant. As the young man locked his remorseful gray eyes with Gibbs again, he silently asked for forgiveness for his pathetic contribution in getting others in the current dire situation.

There wasn't much Gibbs could do to alleviate Pellowe's distress. He couldn't even bear thinking about it. Not while Tim's life was still at stake. He really couldn't predict his reactions if Tim succumbed, in spite of all the rescue attempts.

Gibbs closed his eyes, but now he kept seeing the cadet's face, as well as Tim's. It came as a shock...the realization that both young men were so much alike. It was uncanny and a little frightening. His heart sped up at this notion, and it must have shown, because, in less than no time, he felt a warm presence close by, a calming hand on his forehead and another holding his wrist.

His eyes popped open and they were met by concerned gray ones.

"Sir. Please remain calm. It's okay. You'll be fine." A soothing voice.

"Tim..." Spoken in just a sigh.

Pellowe glanced at the unconscious agent and decided not to say anything about his worrisome condition. It might upset the older man and that was something to be avoided at all cost.

Pellowe turned back to Gibbs thinking of something positive to say.

"The SAR helicopter has arrived. You both will soon get professional care. It's nearly over."

Deep down, however, he had a nagging idea for whom it might be over soon, and in what way. He cringed. It was all his fault. If only he'd had the guts, the eloquence to have a serious heart to heart with Lorraine's parents. If only he hadn't given in to her wild plans. It had looked such a good idea at the time, so simple, so exciting, so romantic even! Eloping. Oh how he loved her. To pieces! He'd do anything for Lorraine. And now, innocent people – people who had acted on good intentions, whose job it was to protect, who had been worried for her – well, those people had been put in danger because of him and Lorraine.

He quickly pulled himself together and his young face showed a new determination. He realized this adventure would mean the end of his chosen career. It hurt. A lot. But what was done, was done and there was nothing he could do to...undo it. He was so mad at himself. Boiling mad, in fact, and it was patent by the flush that now spread across his face and the scowl which had taken residence there as well...

...until he looked down into the older agent's questioning eyes.

The blush deepened, but his features softened.

"I...I'm truly sorry of all this." He muttered and waved his hand, encompassing the raft and it's occupants.

"I really don't know what came over me – why I did this. It was childish and stupid, inconsiderate." He took a deep breath and swallowed.
"Unworthy for a naval officer. And I deeply regret it. Wished I could turn back time so that all of this had never happened."

Gibbs let his eyes close. "You love her...that much, don't you?"

As Pellowe opened his mouth to affirm it, there was a renewed scurrying – yet mindful of the injured men - in the raft. Looking up, he noted the others were moving to their former places again, leaving Tony and the skipper helping the SAR diver into the raft reducing disturbance to a strict minimum.

The newcomer scooted to the two victims. One glimpse at Gibbs – who regarded the man with as steady a gaze as he could muster – and he moved his medical attention to the unconscious McGee.

After a quick evaluation of Tim, which confirmed what the skipper had relayed to him, he contacted the helicopter.

"We have a case of drowning and immersion hypothermia. Core temperature around 30°C. Low heart rate and breathing rate. Unconscious and non responsive. Open airway. Head and leg injuries."

In response, the flight technician maneuvered the helicopter with painstaking precision and soon a Medevac litter was let down.

As the CG diver readied Tim for his hoist to the safety of the USCG helicopter, he explained the need for extreme caution.

"It's important he's not exposed more than necessary to the 'cold' air, wind or water. Even spray. Rough handling is to be avoided at all costs for risk of cardiopulmonary arrest. His heart rate is markedly reduced and his myocardial temperature way too low, so we don't want to risk ventricular fibrillation, right?"

The others nodded mutely.

He grabbed for the litter and pulled it closer to the raft. The skipper held it stable to allow the others to ever so gently shift Tim to the stretcher.

Just before he secured himself to the litter, the rescuer caught sight of Gibbs struggling to raise himself.

"Stay down, Sir!" He barked and soon he and Tim, wrapped in a protective emergency blanket, were airborne.

They all watched with bated breath how Tim was whisked away and winched up in the litter.

Ziva's gaze never left him as he was hoisted aboard the Coast Guard helicopter with the care as they would treat a baby. Her mouth moved as she silently said a prayer for her friend's safekeeping, his survival. There was so little faith left, having seen him deteriorate, but for his sake, she wouldn't give up hope. For all their sakes, in fact.

Ziva could no longer stop the tears from falling and she angrily brushed them away. Why was she acting so emotional all of a sudden? It wasn't like she was never going to see him again. Soon she would be hoisted up, too, to join him for the ride to Bethesda. And yet...it felt too much like a permanent farewell. No, she couldn't allow herself to think like this. Still, the sight of him, looking so...lifeless...in that cradle...now diminishing in the falling darkness. It weighed down on her and her mind was screaming.

With the passing of the time spent in the raft, she felt her hope dwindle and this rescue no longer felt like a rescue at all.

She was suddenly aware of a weight on her arm.

She looked down at the hand lying there.

She followed the arm up till she met the owner's face.

She found his eyes. Tony's eyes.

She saw her sorrow reflected in them.

Then, the moment was broken.

The rescue swimmer was back and already by Gibbs' side.

As the winch man swung Gibbs on board and carefully laid him next to Tim, he saw his youngest agent was being stabilized by the medical personnel. Tim's face, devoid of all color, was covered with a Res-Q-Air mask administering humidified air to his lungs and the medic was now attaching him to the vital-signs monitor.

Soon, all the occupants were sitting side by side. As the helicopter sped at approximately 250km/h towards land and Bethesda, the ambulant survivors were gloomily staring at the two forms strapped to their litters.

In this fast-paced situation, it took them 30 seconds to have Tim hooked up on a Thermal Angel from which an IV (the medical personnel experienced some problems in inserting the needle into the cold veins) ran a warm saline solution into his veins and on to his vital organs, thus slowly warming him up from the inside.

The medic had a look at Tim's other injuries, but since his heart was pumping at such a reduced speed – the fearfully low sinus rhythm displayed on the monitor was there for all to see – the bleeding was negligible and they found themselves grateful for small mercies.

Still, it was a gruesome sight, but if all the lines could help him pull through this critical period, they were more than grateful. Nevertheless, they couldn't reach the hospital soon enough.