"They're in trouble, I know they are." Abby paced in front of Ziva's desk for another full minute before returning to Tim's computer to run another tracing of Tim's phone, then Tony's. Finally, in frustration she tried to track Gibbs' phone and had no luck there either. "Why can't I find them?"
Before another rant could start, Ziva stepped in, figuratively. "The GPS on the van still shows it is in the parking lot outside the tunnels, correct?" When Abby gave a short nod, she continued. "You told us, yourself, that the iron ore in the mountain would make tracing their cell locations impossible. We can do nothing else but wait."
Abby wailed in frustration, "but I hate waiting."
"And you think I do not?" Ziva slammed her palms down on the desk in frustration. "If it were not for this ankle I would be out there with them. Instead, I am stuck here, knowing what I now know and I cannot help them." She picked up a pencil and began rolling it between her fingers. "This staying behind really spits."
Abby allowed a slight smirk to cross her face as she studied the other woman. Sometimes she thought Ziva's language mistakes were deliberate, a way to annoy Tony while other times she could see the stress that caused the slips. Today was definitely stress. "Sucks, Ziva. It really sucks."
"That too."
Before either woman could complain further, Director Shepard joined them with an armload of Chinese take-out. She set it on Tony's desk and began to dig through the boxes. "We better eat now; it may be our last chance for a while." After handing out two dinners, Jenny took the last box and sat at Gibbs's desk. She tore open some chopsticks as she spoke. "Ziva is right; they are too deep in the mountain for either the phones or the GPS chips in them to register. I just spoke to the search team that is following them. They are setting up a radio relay system and will let me know when they catch up with any of them."
"Why are the rest of the searchers so far behind them? I thought they were with Gibbs." Ziva took out her aggressions on a helpless piece of Kung Po chicken as she stabbed it with one of her chopsticks.
Jenny gave a knowing smile. "Apparently, the troop transport truck couldn't keep up with Gibbs in a jeep."
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Gibbs paused as he heard a muffled sound. As he focused he realized the sound was familiar to him. Gunfire. The sound of multiple gunshots was echoing all around him. Hoping that the Marines somewhere behind him were close enough to hear also, he began running again. When the sound changed from gunfire to falling rocks he put every bit of speed he had left into it.
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DiNozzo stood up, blinking the grit out of his eyes. Thankfully, the flashlight he had been forced to drop to use the rifle was still functioning on the ground. He stepped over to pick it up, noticing the large boulder that had missed him by mere inches. The famous DiNozzo luck had held. Once he had the flashlight in his hand he turned back towards the source of the shooting. Most of the narrow tunnel was now blocked. As long as the suspect couldn't get to them, it was good enough for now. It was more important that he and McGee get the boys to safety, but first he had to find them.
"McGee?" He didn't mean to whisper, but his mouth was dry and coated with dust. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Probie, can you hear me?" A muffled groan gave him a direction and he swung the light towards the noises. McGee was struggling to sit up, carefully keeping his right arm pressed against his body. The boys crawled out from where he had covered them, wide-eyed and dirty but looking none the worse for wear.
"Where is he, is the bad man coming back to get us?"
Tony still didn't know which boy was which as he answered. "He's on the other side of the cave-in, but let's not wait around. Are you boys all right?" When they both nodded, he turned his attention to his partner. Blood was oozing down from a scrape on the side of his forehead and he was blinking owlishly in the light Tony was shining at him. "How bad?"
"Shoulder, head… is he down?" McGee tried to stand up, but DiNozzo held him in place as he continued to check his injuries, so he repeated his question. "Is he down?"
This time Tony let him up, keeping a hand on him as he swayed. "I hit him, but I don't know if he's down. There's a lot of rubble between us and him, though. At least that will slow him down if he's still gunning for us. Can you walk?"
"Yeah, let's keep moving. Where's my light and gun?"
DiNozzo checked around, swinging his light in careful arcs. The shattered remains of McGee's flashlight were scattered a few feet away while only the butt of his Sig was visible under a rock that he estimated weighed more than he and Tim combined. Bending down, he could see blood on the grip. Straightening, he grabbed at McGee's left hand. The hiss of pain he heard told him what he needed to know and he couldn't quite hide the anger and worry in his voice. "How bad is your hand?"
"Oww, I hadn't noticed it until you said something." They both studied Tim's hand briefly in the beam of the light. Although the bones looked to be unbroken, the skin was shredded across the all the knuckles and three of his fingernails were already turning purple. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." DiNozzo deliberately kept his tone flippant. He knew the other man was running on adrenalin by this point and it wouldn't take much to put him down again but he had to be sure Tim could keep moving under his own power. "Can you make it out of here, honestly?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure." He could always count on the kid to not sugar coat it. "What I am sure about is that I'm not ready for another round with him if we stay here. Neither are the boys. Let's go home, Tony."
"You got it, kid." He leaned Tim against the rock wall for a moment while he dug out his maglight from his backpack before handing it to one of the boys. When he saw McGee fumble with his jacket pocket he knew where their other maglight was. Retrieving the light, he armed the other twin with it. "Let's get out of here, guys." He tugged McGee's left arm over his shoulder, careful to grab his wrist instead of the hand as the four of them again started towards the exit. They had only made it a few yards before they could hear someone moving towards them fast.
With a muttered, "sorry, buddy" DiNozzo dropped McGee's arm and stepped away from him, needing the room to bring the rifle up to his shoulder. McGee staggered as he pulled the boys back down to the ground. The last one still upright, DiNozzo prepared to make his stand, the stock securely tucked against his cheek, finger on the trigger.
"Federal agent. Drop your weapon or I will drop you."