Thanatopsis

Chapter Seventeen

McGee ran through the street, in an attempt to get into the warehouse as quickly as possible. Gibbs was in front of him, gun drawn. They met up with Tony and Ziva in front of their car and Gibbs waved to them to follow. They made it in the front door, their cries of, "Federal agents," mixed in with a chorus of, "NPD!"

For a few terrifying seconds, it seemed as if they would have a gunfight on their hands, but when the Marines and gang members looked away from their own battle and saw the massive force of the law, guns trained in their direction, they all seemed to decide that they didn't feel like dying today. McGee watched as they all lowered their weapons and came out of their hiding places with a grateful breath, the first one he had taken in over a minute. A couple of the younger guys who had less to lose tried to put up a fight, attempting to raise their weapons, only to lower them again at the cries of the police as well as the other people on the ground.

McGee stood off to the side, keeping his sig up in case anybody decided that they didn't feel like cooperating and watched as Ziva, Gibbs and plenty of other officers handcuffed the suspects. Tony stood at his side and matched his pose, looking around for any potential trouble. There wasn't much light in the main arena; only sunlight came from the open doors the cops had come in and a few high windows. Tony and McGee were in front of a side door, the light pooling around them.

"Holy shit, that was close," Tony said quietly from beside him, not looking away from his task, even for a second, his body language tense.

McGee nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, not quite ready to relax his own stance.

Gibbs and Ziva had handed off their charges out the front door, where a paddy wagon was waiting, and were standing about twenty yards away talking to some Norfolk cops. McGee and Tony both lowered their weapons when they saw all was clear and watched as the head of the Drug Unit searched through the bags that McGee had seen being carried in earlier with a look on his face that reminded McGee of a kid on Christmas morning. McGee had talked to him before, and knew that he had been after these guys for a while.

Tim's concentration was broken, however, by the sound of a piece of wood hitting the floor right behind him. He and Tony both turned to see a man's back as he hightailed it out the side door and into the alley. Tony shouted as he and McGee took off in pursuit. McGee thought that he heard people following him, but couldn't be sure.

The man was skinny and quick, jumping over obstacles with little effort. No doubt, he had drugs in his system, which gave him an edge. They followed him to the best of their ability, but they didn't seem to be gaining any ground. He sidestepped a few pieces of trash, which Tony and McGee wound up barreling through, kicking it out of the way as they went, only slowing their progress. McGee heard a crash behind him; one of the officers had misstepped and rolled into a trash can. He saw another of them stop to help. McGee and Tony were doing all they could to keep up. A short wooden fence nearly sent McGee toppling, but he managed to land without too much hold up. Another officer wasn't so lucky.

Tony was further ahead of him now, having not looked back check if the officer was okay. They had managed to keep within sight of the suspect, but McGee knew that if they didn't step it up, he would be lost. He didn't feel like explaining to Gibbs that they lost a suspect because they needed to hit the gym a little more often. He took another quick glance back; one officer was still running, but it didn't look like the puffing man would last much longer. McGee put on an extra spurt of speed, at least trying to catch up with Tony, and, as they rounded a corner, were met with a dead end.

The suspect was running around, trying to find a way out, but was having no luck. Somewhere in the back of McGee's mind, something seemed to turn on. Why did this look so familiar?

It was as the man they had been chasing finally turned to face them, a wild look in his eye, that McGee remembered why.

Holy. Shit.

That face, those bloodshot eyes, the semi-automatic Glock pointed in their direction. McGee looked around him. This was it. This was his vision come to life. McGee looked at Tony standing in front of him, gun aimed at the suspect, and raised his as well.

Tony spoke to the man. "Hey, man. We don't want this to go badly any more than you do. We just want to talk."

Holy shit. McGee's breath caught in his throat. The man did not give up, as McGee knew he wouldn't.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Tony demonstrated by lowering his weapon. McGee did not lower his. He was frozen; he could only watch as his vision played out right before his eyes in horrifying Technicolor detail.

The man did not lower his weapon or give any sign that he was going to. His eyes kept shifting from McGee to Tony, as if trying to figure out who to shoot first. He backed up to within ten feet of the too tall fence that was blocking his way back onto the pier. The buildings on either side of them were over three stories and there was nothing on this side of the fence that gave him the option of climbing to the other side. High as he was, he seemed fully conscious of the fact that the only way out was through them.

Tony holstered his weapon and raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Come on, buddy. No one has to get hurt."

The man wiped the sweat off of his forehead with one arm, losing his aim for a second, but quickly realizing and readjusting with an almost panicked look. McGee could do nothing but keep his own weapon trained on him in case he made a sudden move.

Tony took a step to the left, away from McGee. Common move, divvy up the targets, make it harder for the assailant to focus. McGee felt uncomfortable with the situation, but anything that he did to stop Tony from what he was doing would likely get them both shot. Tony took another step, reaching his goal of getting the attention focused solely on him. He spoke again, "You have to realize that there is no way out of this. There's two of us and only one of you." Another step. The gun followed him. "Just lower the weapon, surrender, and nothing bad will happen."

The man took a slight step back to keep Tony within his sights, and said with a shaky voice, "I don't believe you. My boss says to never give up. All cops are liars."

"Your boss, huh?" Another step. "Well, I've got a Boss too. He gets pretty upset when I have to shoot someone. Paperwork, you know. He gets especially mad, when there was no reason for them to die. I mean, what's the worst you can get. A year for possession. That's nothing. And even at that, for cooperating, you'd probably get out on time served." Another step. "Shooting a federal agent, however; that's a felony. Twenty to life, minimum."

The man appeared to consider what Tony was saying. He couldn't fight the logic, after all, no matter how addled his brain was at the moment. McGee took a step to the right, then another. If he could just get behind him…. Tony kept talking.

"I believe you are left with the final choice. Come quietly and help us out, or go to prison for a very, very long time. I hear it's nice this time of year."

McGee took another step, but his careful movement was rewarded with screaming and being able to see clearly down the barrel of the gun. Out of the corner of his eye, McGee could see Tony pull his own back out of the holster, and, keeping it pointed at the ground as not to alarm the jumpy man, walk slowly to stand in front of McGee. "You know it's rude to—" he paused for a moment, his back stiffening. "It's rude to turn away when someone is talking to you."

The man nodded his head at McGee, "Make him put his gun down too."

Tony shook his head, "Can't do that. Against the rules; unless you want to put yours down first." McGee could hear the hesitation in Tony's voice; Tony could handle nervous without it showing through, but it was obvious that he was scared. Did he realize that this was McGee's vision? Did he know that he was about to—

Time was running out. Any second now, Gibbs would be sighted and Tony would be dead. All McGee wanted to do at the moment was run. Run away from the moment that had been torturing him for months. But when in the hell did running ever solve anything? He had to do something for his partner if the ever wanted to see him breathing again. Why did Tony have to be so damn fearless? If he knew that he was about to die, why did keep himself in harm's way. McGee didn't need protection, he did.

"Come on, man. What do you say you give me the gun and we go have a nice little chat? You won't even be in trouble for running." Tony held out his hand, palm up. "No harm, no foul, right?"

Time seemed to suspend as the drug user thought through Tony's request. If he gave up in time, before he saw Gibbs, then everything else could be avoided and Tony wouldn't have to die. But if not—McGee didn't want to think of that possibility. He couldn't just watch his partner of nearly a decade be gunned down right in front of him, knowing that there was something he could have done. Anything—

And he suddenly realized what he had to do. The only thing he could do. A rustle came from behind McGee; Gibbs. He saw the suspect's gaze shift to the last place in the world it should have gone, and pushed Tony to the ground as the suspect shrieked and a multitude of shots rang out. A searing pain registered in his chest and he fell to the ground.

Everything seemed to go silent in that moment—all except for Tony's scream. McGee saw the man who shot him fall from his own wound as his eyes closed of their own will.