Chapter 10
Two weeks later...
Tim lay on his bed in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. The plans had been set. His part was decided. Soon they'd be taking down the drug dealers. He had one more day to live as Thomas Allen MacKay. One more day doing things he hated, working with people he loathed.
Which people, though? Who do you really hate?
He hadn't slept a wink that night. Sitting on the table beside his bed was an ecstasy tab. Jewel had pressed it into his hand before he left, telling him that it would be the right time tomorrow. Little did she know that there would be no tomorrow...not for them.
Do you really want this to end?
Yes. That much was clear to Tim. He did want this operation to end. He wanted to get away from it, from this horrible apartment, from the people he saw every day, from the constant assault on his psyche.
Which people? Who do you want to get away from?
All of them. There was not a single person he wanted to see when he had the choice. People were either corrupt or stupid. Sometimes both. Why deal with any of them?
There's no reason why you should have to.
It would be too bad to say good-bye to Jewel, but no great loss really. A case of mutual use. Why bother with pretending it was any more than that?
You don't want to give her up. She's the only one who likes you.
It didn't matter how Jewel might feel. She wouldn't like him when he helped arrest her.
Why do that?
"Because it's the right thing to do," Tim whispered. At this moment, he wished he could talk to someone about what was going to happen, but he couldn't. Why trot out more fodder with which they could put him down?
You can get them all back for it. Pay back every moment of humiliation.
No. That could never happen.
Why not? You've done it before.
Unbidden, Tim remembered that momentary triumph...over a 16-year-old.
Exactly. This will be getting back at the people who actually deserve it...when they deserve it. Unless you think they've changed. Do you?
They hadn't changed. Every conversation was full of snipes and digs...just as it had been ever since he'd begun working at NCIS...especially Tony. If he couldn't be the top, he had to make sure everyone around him was lower. ...or Gibbs who doled out praise to the "worthy" or "deserving" members and gave out treats of responsibility to those who pleased him...as if they were children...or worse...pets. ...or Ziva who saw everyone who was not a Mossad assassin as inferior. All of them had assumed he would screw up, that he wouldn't be able to hack it. They all thought they could do a better job than the poor pitiful computer geek, the one who had never faced any real hardship in his pitiful little life.
So why not show them who's boss? Why hold back?
What about his job? What about NCIS?
You don't need NCIS. Look at everything you gave up for that job...and for what? To be ridiculed and belittled every day of your life.
His phone started to ring and Tim felt the poisonous anger that had infected him course through his veins. He knew who it would be. They were "checking up" on him. Making sure that he hadn't managed to screw something up during the night.
The sooner this was over the better.
...but what's over?
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Vance walked into MTAC and nodded for the link-up. Instantly three screens popped up.
Gibbs was sitting in front of the center screen. "We're ready. Lovitz' team got here last night."
Vance nodded and looked over to the right.
"NPD is setting up to take down the club. They're almost in place."
"And your people, Agent Grandon?" Vance asked the woman on the left screen.
"We're just linking up remotely to head out for interception," Alex Grandon said. There was a flurry of activity behind her. "We'll be ready within the hour."
"Gibbs?"
"We're ready to move as soon as McGee gives the word."
There was something in Gibbs' voice that gave him pause.
"Are you worried that he won't, Agent Gibbs?"
"He will," Gibbs said, just bit too quickly.
Vance signaled to mute the other two groups for a moment.
"Talk to me, Gibbs. Are you worried that McGee is a risk?"
"No, Director Vance. He's just on edge. It's been a hard assignment."
"You must be worried. You can't even say that with a straight face," Vance said. "If this is something that could compromise the operation, I need to know."
"You have nothing to worry about, Director."
"If I do?"
"We'll be there to take care of it."
Vance understood why Gibbs was speaking like that. He didn't want it going on record that he had doubts about Tim's actions. There had been no official mention of it, and although Gibbs had expressed some concern in the past, it had never gone beyond a vague worry that Tim might be in a little over his head. So long as his work continued to be exemplary (which it had), there had been no reason to investigate further...at least from Gibbs' point of view.
All they could do now was wait for Tim to give them the signal. That was the most dangerous part. They couldn't be sure that Tim's signal wouldn't be noticed by his employers.
"Incoming call from Norfolk, sir."
Vance nodded. He gave the signal to reconnect with all groups.
"Send me word when you're ready to move. I'll be on hand."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, Director Vance."
Vance looked over. "All right. Let's see what they have to say."
"Yes, sir."
Vance looked at the man on the screen. "Yes, sir. What can I do for you? I'm in the middle of coordinating a major aspect of our operation."
"That's what I wanted to speak with you about, Director Vance."
Inwardly, Vance sighed. He hated it when the military types decided they knew more than he did about NCIS operations. They always seemed to forget that he wasn't Director because of his political clout...although that hadn't hurt. It was irritating when people tried to muscle in.
"Yes?"
"Are you sure you want to do this without Navy involvement?"
"You don't have the authority to operate under the guidelines of this operation. NPD does, as does NCIS. We appreciate the offer, but it won't be needed." He saw the man getting ready to speak again. "Thank you for your offer, sir, but I have a lot to do. Good-bye." He signaled the end of the conversation. Having the power to end irritating conversations like that was one of the few perks of being director.
"If he calls back again, sir?"
"Tell him I'm extremely busy."
"Yes, sir."
Now, it was down to waiting on Tim.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
As was normal Thomas walked down the street to the intersection and was picked up by his employer. They then drove to headquarters. Thomas was passed in without even being searched. After months of exemplary work, they didn't worry about him. Thomas noticed it with utter disdain.
It's the computer geek thing all over again. They think that they have someone to control, not someone who might be better than they are.
It made him angry. Everyone but Jewel seemed to have completely dismissed him as a potential threat. He supposed it would take the events of today to finally get across to them the deadly error of taking Thomas Allen MacKay for granted. He smiled and nodded to his employers as he was conducted through the building to the bank of computers at the back. Jewel was there.
Thomas was ready for things to get started, but he wanted to make sure that everything was set before sending the signal. He would finally show them all that he could do whatever work was required, that he was willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to succeed. Maybe then they'd stop underestimating him.
"How are we doing, MacKay?"
Thomas looked over his shoulder. All his employers had names but he found that he didn't care. They were unimportant, foolish men and women whose talents were confined to the lowlifes they controlled. They had no idea how to deal with someone like him.
"Everything is on schedule. I'm just getting ready to make the shipment disappear."
"Good. You keeping an eye on surveillance?"
"Of course."
Surveillance which was as shortsighted as they were. Thomas brought up the coding that would allow him to control the course of their shipment. They'd never had anyone as good as he was. ...and never would again. He looked at his watch...and pressed a button which would send a short burst, telling everyone it was time to move.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"We've got it, Director."
"Good." Vance looked at the screens. "You all get that?"
"Yes, sir. We're ready to move on your mark."
Gibbs looked back over his shoulder and then nodded. "We're ready."
"They're starting to move the crates," Alex reported. "Just say the word."
Vance looked at the screens. He could see nothing but focused activity. Everything seemed in order.
"Go," he said. "Good luck."
Instantly, he saw the results of his order. Alex's team was first to engage...but only minutes after, NPD stormed the club. All was chaos in two of the three screens. He could tell only that things seemed to be going according to plan.
"Vance?" Gibbs asked.
Vance looked to either side. It was important that they had the outer groups in hand, that no one was able to report to their bosses.
"You're clear. Go."
Gibbs said nothing in reply. He turned and headed off.
Vance knew he could only wait and watch now. There was nothing more unless they needed more information to coordinate the various groups. It was times like this that he wished he was still only an agent.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
At the first sign of something going wrong, Thomas smiled to himself. They would be understanding the error of their ways now. The higher-ups were in their offices but he was sure they'd be freaking out momentarily...when they saw that the shipment wasn't disappearing...at least not in the way they had expected it to. It was disappearing into NCIS custody. Then, he stiffened slightly at the feeling of cold steel against his neck.
"What have you done, Mac?"
"Jewel."
"I mean it, Mac. I told you that I was watching you."
"On assignment, then?"
"Of course. You think they kept me here for my pretty face? Who else are you working for?"
Thomas slowly turned the chair around so that he was facing Jewel directly. He grinned at her.
"I told you from the beginning, Jewel. We're using each other."
The gun didn't waver.
"You're trying to help one of your other clients."
Thomas laughed. So right and yet so very wrong.
"You might say that."
Jewel walked over to the door and locked it. They were alone for now.
"What might you say?"
"I might say that you have one chance to survive what's coming. One chance. If you put down the gun and surrender, you'll live. If you don't, you'll die."
"You sure about that?"
"You'll be outnumbered and outgunned, Jewel. Neither you nor I can stop what's coming...but you can survive it...if you listen to me and surrender."
Jewel laughed haughtily. "I don't surrender to anyone, Mac. You know that."
Thomas leered. "You've surrendered to me often enough."
They were both momentarily distracted by the sound of gunfire in the other room.
"I told you that they're coming. Your choice."
"I don't care about dying," Jewel said. "But I can take some of them down with me."
"I can't let you do that."
"How will you stop me? You're just another tech. I can shoot them and then you before it's over."
Thomas was angry...so even Jewel tried to put him in a specific group, not letting him be who he was. She hadn't even bothered to check to see if he was armed. She was aiming at the door, barely paying attention to him now. Thomas felt along his back until his hand felt the butt of the gun he'd strapped on that morning...the first time he'd gone out armed. He didn't even know if Gibbs was aware of it...not that he'd care.
"You have one chance, Jewel. Put down your gun."
"Not a chance."
The door began to open. Thomas watched as Jewel began to aim at those who would be coming in. He didn't waste any more time with warnings. He pulled out the gun and fired. Twice.
He didn't miss.
Jewel looked at him in shock as she began to sink to the ground.
"Sorry, Jewel," he said calmly. "You should have realized what I could do."
She fell to the floor and didn't move. Thomas slowly lowered the gun to his side as his team poured into the room, guns out, ready for the action he had already ended. He stared at Jewel's body. He was fairly certain that she was dead. He hadn't held back. He watched in silence as Lovitz and Gibbs headed to her.
"What happened, McGee?" Ziva asked, staring first at Jewel and then at him.
"She was going to kill you when you came through the door. I stopped her."
Tony walked over beside him. Thomas stiffened.
"I suppose that's one way of breaking up."
Thomas' anger reached new heights, his brain supplying all sorts of vulgar epithets to describe the odious man beside him. There was only one way of dealing with someone like that, someone who was so stupid that he ought to be put down just to do the world a favor and keep his genes from being handed down to another generation. Tony didn't notice Thomas' hand clenching into a fist. He didn't pay attention to that because he didn't pay attention to anything outside of his own personal world view.
Get ready to expand your horizons, Thomas thought to himself...and swung his fist as hard as he could. He connected solidly with Tony's nose.
Tony reacted instantly, crying out in pain and surprise, dropping his gun and bringing both hands up to his face, trying to catch the blood now gushing most satisfactorily from his nose, dripping down to his chin.
Thomas turned to face him directly.
"Don't...ever...speak to me again. You have nothing of value to say; so keep your mouth shut! I just saved your sorry behind. Don't make me regret that any more than I already do!"
A hand grabbed his arm.
"McGee!"
He turned to confront his new attacker. Part of him wanted to hit Ziva, too, but he'd been too well-trained not to hit women (although obviously not to avoid shooting them). Instead, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched her hand away.
"Don't touch me," he growled.
"Let go," Ziva said, her voice dangerous.
Still angry, Thomas did so, smiling at her. "Ditto."
Then, he pointed at Gibbs who had risen to his feet.
"That goes for you, too. All of you. Don't touch me. Leave me alone."
"Tony, you okay?" Gibbs asked, not responding to Thomas' injunction.
"Yeah, I'm great, Boss. McGee just rebroke my nose! I'm fabulous!"
Thomas glanced over at him and laughed. "I could have shot you. Be grateful that all I did was break your nose."
"McGee, I need your gun."
"Why?"
"Because you just killed a civilian."
"Who was trying to kill you. Would you rather I had let her do that? If so, you should have told me you had a death wish."
"McGee! Give me your gun! You killed someone. You know what has to happen."
Thomas thought of lengthening out the awkward standoff. He knew they were all afraid of him...and he found that he liked that. They didn't know what to expect. For once, he had managed to surprise them, shake them out of their comfortable world where little Tim McGee was the weak one. ...but he made a show of unloading his gun and then handing it to Gibbs as he approached.
"Here you go. Have fun," he said sarcastically.
"Agent Miller," Gibbs said, staring at Thomas with an almost-disconcerting intensity, "please escort Agent McGee outside until we're ready to leave."
"Yes, Agent Gibbs. McGee?"
Thomas smiled once more and followed Lara to the door. "Did you get the rest of them?"
"Yeah."
"The drugs?"
"Everything went down without a problem, McGee," Ziva said carefully.
"Good."
He walked out without another word.
The operation was over.
