Strong
Matthew was feeling antsy, tired of being coped up inside for so long with a five year old and a hyperactive dog. Sarah smiles indulgently at him and suggests that he should burn some energy with Jethro. Matt laughs, and looks down at the dog.
"Wanna go out for a run?"
Both Sarah and Matthew laugh as the dog goes running to his corner in the kitchen, almost slamming against the cupboards as he slides on the cold tiles, takes his leash and brings it to Matthew, depositing it before him and whining excitedly at the perspective of leaving the house.
"Ok, I got the message," Matt rubs the dog behind his ears, and starts to get ready for a jog.
Once in the street, he stretches a little, and starts on an easy pace, which the dog easily follows. As he gets further down the road, he turns and continues running, towards the park he had seen when he drove by earlier the other day.
He's taken by surprise, though, when Jethro freezes, twitches his ears, and starts barking like crazy.
"What's wrong, buddy?" he stops, and he shouts when Jethro simply takes off, running down the street, and the leash escapes his hand.
"JETHROOOOO," he shouts, as he starts to run after the dog, who abruptly takes a left and keeps on running as if the hounds of hell were after him.
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The Porsche Boxter was roaring down the streets of Norfolk, changing lanes and overtaking slower moving cars.
As they overtook another car, McGee looked at Joy, who was driving, and held on for dear life, and started praying to at least get there in one piece. He sees the lights changing, from green it turns yellow, and Joy steps on the accelerator making the car go faster.
"Oh, oh, Red light," the lights become red and cars start crossing the intersection, yet Joy speeds up the Porsche, "red light, RED LIGHT!"
For some miracle, and a screech from McGee, Joy goes through the red light without stopping, and missing an SUV by a couple of inches. McGee starts to hyperventilate, and shouts at her:
"WHERE DID YOU LEARN HOW TO DRIVE?"
They pass another car in a dangerous maneuver, and the brakes screech as she makes a turn, and McGee feels the G-force pressing him against the door, the seatbelt cutting him on the neck.
"On an airplane tarmac in area 51," says Joy without taking her eyes from the road, overtaking another car. McGee turns to stare at her, and feels his mind trying valiantly to process the information at the same time it is screaming at the current danger he's in.
"What? Area 51?"
Another crazy maneuver, this time almost hitting a delivery truck, and McGee is staring at Joy behind the wheel as if she has informed him that she's Elvis.
"Area 51? But that base doesn't exist!"
Joy stays silent.
"That's a myth," insists McGee, and when he turns his eyes back to the road, he shouts "BUS, BUS!" Joy reduces the speed, and overtakes the bus, that had stopped to let some passengers go down.
"That's not a myth," says Joy, as she crisscross between the cars going on the avenue. She glances at him quickly, and turns her attention back to the road, "That's where my mom works. And, eventually, my dad."
"I thought your dad was retired," says McGee.
"He still consults sometimes."
"But the rumors, the UFO sightings, that…"
"Just hype, but the base does exist, the one they go crazy about over the conspiracy theories is a decoy, the real one is in the middle of the desert, 50 miles south."
McGee turns to stare at the road ahead, and closes his eyes, as a thousand different thoughts ping pong in his mind.
"The UFOs …" he starts, and Joy interrupts him, "highly specialized military aircraft prototypes. Usually one of a kind."
McGee shakes his head, "How were they able to hide this for so long? Why?"
Joy bites her lips, and simply says, "That's classified, Tim." She glances at him, "so now you know why we have to be so careful, why mom protects us, all of us so fiercely." McGee rubs his face with his hand.
He looks out of the window, "the school is this way," he points to the exit she just drove by.
"They are not there," says Joy, as she turns right in one street, then left.
"How do you know?"
"I just know, trust me," she slows down, then turns in a quiet street, with several trees on it. Three blocks ahead, there is a dark blue SUV stopped in the middle of the road, the passenger door opened.
They approach the car, and Joy hits the brakes as soon as she sees Mr. Beckinsale kicking someone on the ground, and a very angry Rick kicking him and punching him in the leg, trying to stop him.
Joy stops the car totally, as soon as she and McGee recognize the figure laying down on the floor.
It was Jake.
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The sound of brakes did not stop Mr. Beckinsale's furious assault on the teenager, neither the feeble hits by the little eight year old. He was blinded by his anger at the situation and the interference of curious little brats, they should pay.
"FREEZE, FEDERAL AGENTS," someone shouts, and the sound penetrates the red mist that was blinding him. He turns, and sees two people, the agents from the other day, from the game, pointing guns at him. How dare them!
"Step away from the boy!" says the female agent, and Mr. Beckinsale grabs Rick and uses him as a shield, and draws his pocket knife and slides the blade out, touching Rick's neck.
"What? Are you going to shoot me?" he sneers at them, "shoot me and the kid is dead."
The two agents walk around their car, a Porsche – since when can cops afford Porsches? - and approach him, and he presses the blade deeper against the neck of the kid, who is now crying and whimpering like the baby he is.
He sees the female agent glancing at the teenage boy on the ground, who is not moving, and then back at him.
"Come on, shoot me!" he is teases them, "you won't shoot me, not while I hold the boy." He laughs.
"You killed Petty Officer Veseley," says the man, standing his ground, as the woman steps around him, blocking his escape route to his own car.
"Damn man, he stumbled on my little lab one day, he was going to report me, I couldn't let him do it," snarls Malcolm, looking from one agent to the other.
"So you killed him, and now were going to kidnap his son," says the female agent, her gun still pointed at him.
Rick was still crying, and Mr. Beckinsale squeezes him against his chest, bringing a gasp of pain of the little boy, "damn boy was with him that day, I couldn't let him talk about what he saw with his father."
"Let him go," orders McGee, with his gun pointed at him. He didn't want to shoot, as Rick's head was too close from the man's head. The man snarls at them, and looks down at Jake.
"If it wasn't for this stupid kid," he kicks Jake again in his stomach, and Jake just moans on the ground. Joy flinches, and she's very tempted to shoot the bastard, but she can't get a good shot from where she is, and the Rick is wiggling too much on his arms, she couldn't predict his movements.
"Let him go," orders McGee, still holding his gun ready to any opportunity he might have.
"I'M NOT GOING TO PRISON," shouts Malcolm.
While the adults were talking, Jake opens his eyes and looks at the crazy man with Rick. He looks around and, from his position on the ground, he sees something on the grass, under the hedge fence, and stretches out his hand for it.
"YES, YOU ARE," shouts Gibbs, who just turned around the corner with Ziva and Tony hot on his heels. They all draw their weapons, and join the standoff.
"It's over. Let the kid go," says Tony, his finger twitching on the trigger. Ziva takes a step closer, trying to choose where to shoot him without hurting the hostage.
"No," hisses Malcolm, as he presses the knife on Rick's neck, drawing a little bit of blood, "I will not…AARRRGHHH," Malcolm shouts, and drops his knife and Rick, and his hands rush to his leg, as Jake had stabbed it with the blade of a garden scissor.
Rick falls to the ground, and Malcolm looks at Jake, and shouts, "YOU SON OF A BITCH."
Jake takes the scissors from Malcolm's leg, then stabs him again, this time on his left foot, sinking the blade through the tennis shoe until it hits the grass underneat, bringing a roar of pain from the man.
Jake then grabs Rick, and moves away from the writhing man, who has fallen to the ground and holding his leg, and whose feet was stuck to the ground by the scissors blade.
"MY MOM IS A LADY, YOU BASTARD," shouts Jake, carrying the little boy away three steps, and falling to the ground crying.
The agents rush to the wounded man, still with their weapons pointed at him, but he crawls towards the knife, and as he turns to slash McGee in the face a snarling mass of fur flies over the hedge fence and hits Mr. Beckinsale full throttle. Jethro grabs his arm and squeezes it between his jaws, and Mr. Beckinsale cries out as the dog makes mincemeat of his wrist.
"JETHRO!" shouts McGee, as Jethro moves his head, bringing shouts of pain of the man.
"JETHRO, STOP!" shouts McGee again, and the dog steps back, still snarling at the man, who is now whimpering in pain.
Gibbs approaches the man, and forces him to stand up, and Ziva, smiling, puts on evidence gloves on and takes the scissors from his foot, bringing a shout of pain from Malcolm.
As she sees the situation is under control, Joy rushes to Jake, who is shushing a crying Rick, and at the same time looking at the man with hatred. Rick was hugging Jake, his little arms squeezing him around his neck for dear life.
She kneels before him, and starts checking him for injuries. He has a black eye, and a busted lip, and from the way he was moving, his back and middle must be hurting a lot, but he still would not let go of the little boy hanging from his neck, "you ok, Jake?" she touches his face, gingerly touching his black eye.
"I didn't break my promise, Aunt Joy," says Jake, between his sobs. Joy caresses his face, and smiles down at him. Tony, after helping Ziva to cuff the man, approaches Joy and the two kids, and overhears the conversation.
"What promise?" asks Tony. Gibbs ordered Ziva to go collect their car, dialed emergency services for medical support and approaches them in time to overhear Joy's answer.
"I made him promise to watch over Rick, be his bodyguard." Gibbs studies the teenager, with long reddish brown bang falling over his forehead, crying and holding a crying boy in his arms.
"He was going to hurt him," Jake says, between sobs, and he brings his sleeved arm to clean his face, just making a bigger mess.
"You did good, son," says Gibbs, as he looks up and sees an out of breath Matthew running towards them two blocks down the road. Matthew stops and leans against a tree, and frowns at the scene before him.
"You did really good," says Gibbs.