Chapter Twenty Four

February 5, 2011 – 5:03am

Jimmy reached into the battery compartment, took hold of the battery, squeezed his eyes shut – and pulled in one swift movement. The battery came free, and –

Nothing happened.

Jimmy exhaled in relief and collapsed backwards onto the floor. He was almost giddy with the thrill of success. He allowed himself a moment to pull himself together, then sat up and started replacing the cover on the battery compartment. When the bomb disposal squad examined it, maybe they'd just think that the terrorists were that incompetent, instead of wondering who had tampered with it –

The door to the stairwell slammed open. Jimmy let out a startled squeak, dropping the multi-tool. His heart pounding in his ears, Jimmy quickly replaced the receiver and turned off his flashlight, listening hard to determine the nature of this intrusion.

He heard Carl's voice: "Did you hear that?"

Charlie: "Hear what?"

Jimmy could hear footsteps coming closer. Moving as quietly as he could, he got to his feet, grabbed his gear, and slipped away into the cubicle maze. He didn't have time to replace the panel of the sorter, which was going to present a problem – but not as big a problem as being seen by the two terrorists. He ducked into one of the middle cubicles and crawled under the desk, clutching at his backpack to still the trembling of his hands.

Of all the terrorists in all the world, Jimmy couldn't help thinking, why did I get the obsessive-compulsive bomb builders? Can't they just leave it alone?

Apparently not. Jimmy listened as the two made their way down the hallway created by the cubicle maze and the wall.

Carl: "So what do you think happened?"

Charlie: "Dunno. Maybe the guy changed his mind again. Or maybe Garrett screwed up and is trying to cover his ass now."

"You don't think anyone knows…?"

"Nah. If they did, Garrett woulda let us know. Or he woulda been caught before he could call in."

"Almost too bad, I can't stand – what the hell?"

That was Jimmy's cue to run. He abandoned his hiding place and his backpack to dash down the cubicle hallway, in the opposite direction of the sorter. He was pretty sure that this passage went straight through and would let him out the other side, where he could make a run for the stairwell. With any luck, Charlie and Carl would be focused on the document sorter and not –

"Hey, you! Stop!"

Well, it was a nice thought, anyway.

Jimmy ran for the door and threw it wide open, all too aware of what had happened the last two times he'd tried running down these stairs. But there was no time to hesitate – especially when he heard the sharp report of a gunshot behind him.

Crap! They weren't armed before!

Yelling in sheer terror, Jimmy rushed down the first flight of stairs, rounding the corner just as the door was flung open again. He heard another gunshot, but fortunately the shooter was aiming at where he had been, not where he would be. There was another point in his favor – the shooter had to stop moving long enough to aim, while Jimmy wasn't about to stop for anything. Maybe, just maybe, he could get out of here and away from the building before they caught up with him…

He grabbed the safety rail as he started down the section where he'd fallen before, just to be on the safe side. It slowed him down slightly, but not as much as dislocating his knee would have done. He made it down that flight safely and kept moving. It was too much to hope that Charlie or Carl would fall and hurt themselves, he knew, but he still couldn't help but wish for it anyway.

No such luck. Jimmy had a good head start, but they were gaining on him – and this time, they could hit him with something a lot more dangerous than a flashlight.

The men were almost two full flights behind him when Jimmy leaped the last few steps to the ground floor and threw himself through the door into the call center. He hurried to the window – Damn, they closed it too! – and wrenched it open. As quickly as he could, he climbed through, his technique still clumsy despite all the practice he'd had the last few days.

Jimmy hopped on one foot until he could pull his right leg through. He turned quickly, started running – and stumbled to an abrupt stop as several dark-colored cars screeched to a halt in the parking lot, cutting off his escape.

"Federal agents! Freeze!" The shouts came from several different directions as doors were flung open and armed agents took up their positions behind them, every gun pointed straight at Jimmy.

"Don't shoot!" Jimmy screamed, throwing his arms in the air. "Don't shoot, I'm with NCIS!"

"Down on the ground!" That was Ron Sacks' voice, coming from somewhere off to Jimmy's left. Several other agents echoed the command, but from the right, a single voice barked out:

"Palmer! What the hell are you doing here?"

Jimmy was blinded by the headlights, but he turned his head in the direction of Gibbs' shout. "Gibbs!" he yelled, hoping he would be heard over the increasingly frantic commands of the other agents. "There are armed men –"

"On the ground! Now!"

"Palmer!"

"Jimmy, get down!"

Jimmy turned automatically at Tony's voice –

Something slammed into Jimmy's right shoulder from behind, throwing him violently to the ground before he knew what was happening. That was followed by the deafening roar of gunshots as most of the federal agents opened fire. Terrified, Jimmy threw his left arm – he couldn't move the right – over his head and screamed into the asphalt, expecting to be hit at any moment…

The gunfire slowed, but continued steadily. Jimmy could hear several people shouting, but he couldn't make out the words until a familiar voice carried over the rest –

"Fornell, cover us!"

"Gibbs, what are you – fine, fine! Go!"

The tempo of gunfire picked up again. Jimmy gasped for breath as he lay flat on the ground, eyes squeezed shut, body trembling, mind completely frozen in fear. When hands grabbed onto each of his arms, his heart leaped in his chest and his eyes flew open; but it wasn't until they lifted him and half-carried, half-dragged him face down toward the vehicles that he understood that he was being rescued.

The shooting became more sporadic again once Jimmy and his saviors were out of the danger zone. They dragged him behind one of the larger vehicles; then they carefully lowered him to the ground, turning him so that he lay on his left side, leaning back against the legs of one of his rescuers as that person kneeled behind him.

"Palmer! Can you hear me?" That was Gibbs' voice.

"I'll call for an ambulance." McGee sounded worried.

"What was Palmer doing here?" Ziva asked, her concern evident only in the fact that she was asking a question she knew they didn't have the answer to.

"I don't know." Tony's voice was strained. "Jimmy, are you with us? Look at me."

As Tony was the one kneeling behind him, Jimmy had to turn his head to the right to look up at him. But as he started the movement, agony flared in his right shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. It didn't get any better when Tony grabbed the scarf that Ziva handed to him, wadded it up, and pressed it hard against Jimmy's collarbone.

"Shh, it's okay," Tony tried to comfort him as Jimmy whimpered, tears coming to his eyes. "There's an ambulance on the way. We just need to keep pressure on it til they get here."

Unable to look up at Tony, Jimmy's eyes flicked to Gibbs' face. The other man's features were blurred – Did I lose my glasses again? – but Jimmy saw the red on his hands and suddenly realized where it had come from.

"I – I got shot?" he whispered. He'd meant to speak louder, but he still couldn't quite catch his breath.

Gibbs nodded. "Good thing you went down hard. FBI thought the shot came from you."

Tony's hands pressed harder against Jimmy's shoulder at that, and the younger man gasped. Gibbs' face became even more blurred in his vision, but he struggled to focus again. "Doors… the doors…" Even he could barely hear himself now.

"What?" Tony leaned closer. "Say that again, Jimmy."

With a start, Jimmy realized that it was no longer completely dark out, and hadn't been for some time. What time was it? Couldn't be sunrise yet, it wasn't that bright – which meant that they weren't out of the woods yet. He opened his mouth, desperate to pass on a warning, but it was getting harder for him to breathe in; pain stabbed at his chest and shoulder with every attempt.

"Don't try to talk, Palmer. They'll be here soon."

Jimmy's eyes fixed on a blur of orange – Gibbs' watch. It reminded him of another time when he'd been in pain and unable to speak. He tried to lift his hands, but his right arm refused to move and only punished him with more pain for making the attempt.

"Stay still, Jimmy. You're going to be okay, just stay still."

That was okay – he didn't actually know the sign for the word he wanted, and he doubted that Gibbs would be amused by the rather inappropriate substitute he'd come up with. Instead, he reached out with his left hand and, aiming for the orange watchband, grabbed Gibbs' arm and shook it.

"What –"

Once he had Gibbs' attention, Jimmy let go and laboriously began to fingerspell: B-O-O-B-Y-T-R –

Gibbs grabbed onto his hand. "We know about the doors, Palmer. We've got it under control, just stay still."

It's not sunrise yet, Jimmy thought frantically. We're not safe until sunrise. But he didn't know how to tell them, and he was starting to become light-headed…

Tony looked down at Jimmy in surprise. "That was your handwriting!" he exclaimed. "I knew I'd seen it before!"

Jimmy nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open. He'd come so close – he couldn't pass out now, he had to see it through til sunrise. He had to see them safe.

He heard shouts and loud thumping coming from nearby. Suddenly, he realized what he hadn't been hearing for several minutes – the thunder of gunfire.

"Over here! Hurry!"

Abruptly, Gibbs' hand pulled away from his. Tony held on a moment longer, then relinquished his position to a man in blue, who took over holding the pressure on Jimmy's wound. Another man appeared where Gibbs had been and started talking to Jimmy, asking him questions and trying to get him to respond.

Jimmy stared blankly at the sky. It was a medium blue, not yet the lighter hue that it would take once the sun peeked over the horizon. Then, to his dismay, it started to grow darker. Tony. Where's Tony? I have to see the sun rise… I have to see Tony… where is he? Please, please, I can't lose you again, Tony, please…

Consciousness faded as the darkness engulfed him.