A/N: This is a very intense chapter and graphic. Read at your own risk. And then tell me what you think. Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 5

Tony was dropped off in front of an elegant villa on the beach. The roar of the waves sounded in the darkness. His hands hadn't stopped shaking since the prison, and he argued with Saldana's soldiers when they refused to take him back to the General's estate. It took everything in him to swallow his anger and act like a man with nothing to lose.

He walked in the front door and found them all waiting for him in the living room. He ignored the gorgeous furniture and high ceilings. Gibbs gave him a sharp nod and pointed to a lamp. Tony knew the villa was bugged and he closed his eyes.

He felt Ziva's small hands push a drink into his and he brought it to his lips like a man at the end of a race. The alcohol burned the back of his throat and he welcomed the sensation.

"Did you see McGee, Tom?"

Tony licked his lips. "Yeah."

"And?"

"It's bad. He's barely hanging on. I can't believe you left Saldana's estate. We should've wrapped this whole thing up right away."

"It doesn't work that way, Tom," Gibbs said. "The General needs time to think."

"He could be dead by then!"

"The General needs a chance to think this over. He needs to understand that this helps him in the long run. We have to give him that time."

Tony swallowed the rest of his drink. "You didn't see him."

Kort stood. "We can't be swayed by our sentimentality. You've always been too emotional, Hagen. McGee is a means to an end. He is Laurent's ticket to becoming the CEO. Once Saldana understands this, we'll be able to get this done."

Tony gripped the edge of the bar. "You're a son of a bitch, Mattson! You're a frickin' statue."

"That's enough, Guys!" Laurent's voice was shaky, hardly what one might expect from a team leader.

"Tom, Cassia and I were going to take a midnight walk on the beach. Why don't you join us? Blow off some steam."

Tony lifted his head. "When do we see Saldana next?"

Gibbs stared at him steadily. "He'll call us in a couple of days. Wants us to enjoy the beauty of the island. Come on now. Let's go take a walk."

Tony brushed past him and pulled open the door to the deck. The sound of the surf erupted in their ears. Tony pulled off his shirt and dropped his pants. Clad only in his boxers, he ran hard into the surf, yelling his frustration into the rushing water. He started swimming hard, choking and sputtering as he struggled to find a rhythm in his strokes. He swam until the beach seemed distant and then he stopped, treading water. He waited for the tears, but they didn't come. There was too much left to do. Instead he felt a deep exhaustion settling into his body and fear gripped him. He realized that not only did he need energy to get back to shore, but he needed in order to help McGee. He needed to be like Gibbs, cool and calculating, able to wait for just right moment.

He started back slowly, pacing himself in the deep water. In the moonlight, he saw Ziva running up and down the beach until she spotted him. She shouted and came running toward him. He was chest deep when she reached him, clinging to his neck as he waded in.

"Don't ever do that again!" She hissed into his neck.

Gibbs was waiting for both of them with robes and towels. "Are we done with the dinner theater?"

Tony nodded as he wrapped the thick robe around him.

"Walk." Gibbs started moving off along the shore and the two of them ran to catch up.

He turned his head. "How bad?"

"Salim bad."

Ziva tossed her wet head. "Torture."

"It's what we expected, right? It's what I expected, but then you face it and you're helpless to do anything…"

"Is he incapacitated?"

Tony turned to Gibbs. "He can't walk on his own. Bruises. Possible fractures. Malnutrition. He was sick. He was unfocused. Didn't recognize me right away."

"The prison?"

"It's a labyrinth of old stone passageways. No logic to the layout. It was designed as a fort to repel invaders from the sea. The guards are young, undisciplined, but it's clear that the place is run by sadists. I could hear the screams. I could see the blood stains everywhere."

Gibbs stopped and rubbed his mouth. "I wish we had a plan B. I worry that Saldana is just playing with us. The decision to send you out there was…so abrupt. The man is impossible to predict."

Tony shrugged. "He has to do this. There's no other way. We can't storm the damn prison."

"Wishing for something isn't going to make it happen."

"What's the alternative! We leave him! I don't think I could do that. Can you? I mean, you did it once, Gibbs. Does it get easier with practice?"

"Tony!"

He backed away. "We'll never be the same. Imagine walking away from him. How could we live with that? I know I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to ever look at you…any of you again."

Ziva advanced on him, wet curls streaked across her face. "Stop it, Tony! Don't talk to him like this! No one walked away from McGee before and no one is going to do it this time either. What's wrong with you!"

"You weren't there," he said softly.

"But I have been there before, Tony. I know what he is feeling. Do you really think any of us would walk away from him?"

Tony shook his head. He turned to Gibbs, but the man had disappeared into the darkness.

….

"You are not thinking, McGee. It will not work."

Chills and muscle aches gripped McGee's body and he hugged the wall for comfort. "Why are you doing this to me, Paolo? Don't take away my hope. They came. They're finally here and I know they won't leave without me."

"I am sure they are sincere."

"Do you think I will forget you, Paolo? I won't. I'll work very hard to get you out too. I will make sure your story is everywhere. I promise you."

"My dear friend, I am not worried about being left behind. It is not about that. I say this because I know Saldana. In better days, I knew him as a contemporary. I know his character. He's impulsive. He allowed the visit, but that doesn't mean he will allow your rescue. He dangles hope before you for the pleasure of snatching it away."

"Why? I don't understand. He doesn't even know me."

"It's a game played for your American friends. Imagine for a moment that he allowed you to leave. What would happen?"

"I would go home," McGee whispered into the clay.

"Where you would undoubtedly be debriefed and share your encyclopedic knowledge of what happens inside Berumi's worst prison. You remember the names. You saw the atrocities. Your government would surely bring this story to the international press. Saldana is a vain man. He might not care about what the U.S. thinks, but he cares about what the world thinks. He will also carefully guard against the day he might be in front of an international court."

"I know too much."

"Yes, you do."

McGee closed his eyes. "I understand."

"We promised each other honesty."

He swallowed. "We did."

"It is true that you are exactly the person who can bring this story to the world."

McGee wiped at the moisture on his face.

"Rest tonight, my friend. Things will happen very quickly after this."

…..

Ducky opened the door to his hotel room and sighed. "Thank God, Jethro! No one has seen you for hours. How did you find me?"

Gibbs walked past him. "It's a small island, Duck. They put you up someplace nice."

Ducky went for his phone. "They haven't seen you in nine hours. Did you walk here?"

"Like I said, it's a small island. Do you have room service?"

Ducky handed him a menu as he waited for the phone to answer. "Ziva, you were right. He came here. Give me a little time with him, and I'll call you. You can send a car."

Gibbs handed him the menu. "I want eggs, beans, whatever the hell they serve for breakfast here. And juice. I don't care what kind."

He disappeared into the bathroom and then Ducky heard the shower running. He came out about the same time that a large tray of food arrived. His clothes were still wrinkled, but he looked better. He sat down, took a bite of eggs, and chewed. Then he looked at Ducky. "What do you think McGee is getting for breakfast today?"

"Tony told me about his condition. He also told me how hard he was on you last night. He was out of line."

Gibbs pushed the black beans around his plate with his fork, but he didn't eat. "He was upset. He was just being Tony. He's got a deep heart, and he loves McGee like a brother. If I reacted sooner, I could've been the one to see McGee."

"And that would've been better?"

"I don't know." The eggs no longer held appeal and he sat back. "I watched Saldana very carefully yesterday. The man is impossible to read. He's unpredictable. Plays games. I don't think he has any intention of giving us McGee under any circumstances."

"Oh, I know. My team leader met with Monterros yesterday. The man seems to have no power in this country right now. We want to get into El Corazon, but he doesn't seem to have the ability to make it happen."

"I'm scared that we're not going to get to him in time."

"I don't have an answer for you. Good people die, Jethro. You and I have both seen that happen too many times. You survived the death of your wife and daughter. You will survive his death, if it happens."

"I don't think so, Duck. I don't think the team can ever recover. I left him and then came home and fumbled everything. I let other people take control when I knew that U.S. policy would stall any action. When I finally wake up, there's no time to do anything but jump into an ill-conceived mission. He's going to die and it's my fault."

Ducky shook his head slowly. "I have never seen you like this…even after Kate. Even then, you understood that Ari was a threat you couldn't fully control. This can only be your fault if you were in control of everything to begin with. Even the great Jethro Gibbs isn't arrogant enough to flaunt U.S. policy for his own needs."

"I thought about shooting Saldana myself. Thought about it for hours as I walked here. I am capable of doing it, you know."

"Of course. But then it wouldn't be just McGee's death we would be mourning but the death of you and Ziva and Tony. Tell me you didn't throw that plan away once you knew there was no way to get them safely before you did it."

He sighed. "This hurts a lot, Duck."

"For all of us. Please don't lose sight of the fact that you are the center of what makes us a family."

"Call Ziva. I better get back there so we can strategize. We have to find a way to outwit the beast."

…

Vance walked into the lab. It was usually pristine, but today there were takeout boxes and Caf-Pow containers littered all over the counters and a bag on the floor filled with thong underwear and bras. He winced and ventured in further. A bedroll was laid out on the ground with a stuffed Hippo at the head. Another bag sat next to the bedroll with a mess of tangled clothing.

"Do you know anything? Tell me you know something."

He turned abruptly to find her in the doorway in spider pajamas with a bath towel wrapped around her head.

He clasped his hands behind his back. "I don't know anything, Miss Scuito. I just wanted to confirm reports that you are using our Forensics Lab as a campground."

"I'm not leaving. You can't make me leave," she said as she grabbed the bag of underwear and shoved it under a counter.

"You can't live like this."

"Oh yes, I can. Until they come back, I am not going anywhere. I want to be right here when we hear something."

"You have to take care of yourself…Abby."

"They are my family. They mean everything to me."

"I understand," he said slowly. "But I am worried about you."

"You?" She stopped towel drying her hair to look at him.

"I am."

"Then you can understand why I need to be here."

He surveyed the room. "My wife is going grocery shopping. Make me a list. I'll get you something healthier than what I see here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You can't survive on burgers and pizza. And for Pete's sake, limit the Caf-Pow. You're as jittery as a June bug. No wonder you can't ever relax."

She smiled. "Thanks Director Vance."

He shifted foot to foot. "I'm worried too."

"Gibbs will take care of them."

"He always does, doesn't he?"

"We're his family, you see. He always takes care of family."

"As it should be."

"Thanks again for stopping." She stepped forward. "We're not at the hugging stage yet, are we?"

He put up a hand. "Baby steps, Miss Scuito. Baby steps."

….

Tony looked up when the deck door opened. Gibbs stepped out in the bright sun.

"I'm sorry, Boss. I said things I didn't mean."

"Forget it, DiNozzo."

Tony got up from the deck chair. "I was so wrong. You have to forget all of it."

"You know how I feel about apologies," he said taking a seat. The ocean view was beautiful but none of that mattered. "Get Ziva. We don't have a good plan B so we gotta' talk out how to make plan A better than it is."

….

McGee struggled to hear the conversations happening at Paolo's cell door. There had been harsh whispers since early morning, and while he didn't understand much Portugese, he did know enough key phrases to understand the word courtyard said repeatedly.

The fever was gone but it had drained him, and it had taken all of his energy to crawl to the hole between the cells and listen. He called for Paolo, but the old man didn't answer him. Finally he drifted off to sleep.

It was late afternoon that he heard his name. He woke with a groan and turned his head to the hole. "Paolo?"

"How do you feel, my friend?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters very much. You have a big mission ahead of you."

"What does that mean?"

"Your days in this cell are over."

His heart jumped. "When are they coming for me?"

"Tonight."

"I don't understand. The executions happen in the afternoon."

"I made other arrangements for you."

McGee screwed up his face. "I don't understand!"

"They are coming soon and they will give you a shot. You must do everything they say."

"A shot? You make no sense. Is it your English?"

"No, McGee, they will give a shot, like a vaccine. I know what I am saying."

"Why?"

"Does it matter? All you need to know is it will make everything easier."

"I am a man. I don't need to be drugged. I want to look my executioner in the face."

"Do you trust me?"

Paolo."

"It's a simple question."

McGee sighed. "I trust you. You are all that I have left."

"Then do this for me. It will mean more than you know."

"Tell me. I feel like there is so much you are not telling me."

"Give me your hand."

McGee slid it through the hole, and Paolo kissed it and then patted it gently. "This is the last time we talk. I will be with you until they come."

"You don't have to protect me."

"But you are like my son, and in that capacity, it is important for me to do what I think best."

"How long before they come?"

"Very soon. Talk to me. Tell me about all of these people you call family. I wish to hear the stories one more time."

There was a lump in McGee's throat impossible to swallow. It took a few moments before he could make sound.

…

They came after dark, and he expected them to be rough as always, but these were men he didn't know and they spoke softly to him. Paolo spoke to him gently through the hole, urging him to cooperate. McGee was weak and grateful for any kindness, and he didn't fight when they extended his arm for the needle.

…

Saldana strode into the living room in full regalia. Today's sash was a blood red one. He ignored all of them and headed straight for Ziva, kissing her on both cheeks. "Ah, my beautiful one, you are my one tonic in a sea of chaos. Tell me that Laurent doesn't own your heart."

"It's good to see you, General," she said as she tactfully extricated herself from his arms.

"We'll have dinner this week with Laurent, of course. These other sour individuals are not invited."

"General, we know how busy you are-"

He wheeled on Pierce. "Do you, Laurent!? If you did, you would not pull me out of meetings for more nonsense!"

Pierce stood his ground. "Hanson assures me that the issue of the American, McGee, is crucial to our partnership."

Saldana turned to Gibbs. "Perhaps, you should be the new CEO. You seem to be pulling all the strings, Mr. Hanson."

"I know what it will take to get U.S. cooperation in our takeover bid. McGee is important to that end."

Saldana looked at Tony. "And you, Mr. Hagen. You saw the unfortunate Mr. McGee. How was your visit?"

Tony straightened. "Appalling. Mass murderers get better treatment in the U.S."

"Did you find him fragile?"

"Very."

"Well, that explains it then. Gentlemen, we will have to, as you say, stop barking up this tree because this dog won't hunt."

Tony looked at Gibbs. "We don't understand, General."

"I received word this morning that Mr. McGee passed away in the night. Undoubtedly, it was malaria, but my people tell me that your visit was quite stressful on him. I am sure it was a mitigating factor."

"He's dead?"

Saldana smiled. "My English is not 100%, but I thought I was quite clear. He died. He is no longer among the living. Better?"

Tony gripped the couch in front of him but didn't speak. Kort stepped forward. "This is quite a blow to all of us. McGee was our ticket to making Laurent a hero in the U.S. It would've made everything so much easier."

"There must be a body."

Everyone turned to Gibbs. "There must be a body, General. We need his body."

Saldana threw up his hands. "What do you care?! He can do nothing for you now."

"Bringing his body will mean something. It will mean something very important. Give us his body and we will bring him home."

Saldana shook his head. "Laurent, your people are crazy."

"Jack is right, General." Pierce's voice was shaky. "It will mean something for us to bring him home."

"You are relentless! All of you! I will think about it! Now get out before you all end up at El Corazon!" Saldana stormed out of the room.

….

The drive back to the villa was completely silent until Ziva started banging on the back of the driver's seat. She started yelling for the driver to stop in Portuguese. When the limousine came to a stop on the coastal highway, she tumbled out of the car and ran into the dunes. She fell down on her knees and threw up into the sand. Gibbs and Tony jumped out after her, dropping down beside her and holding her while she sobbed.

The driver turned to Pierce, "What is wrong with your friends?"

"Ah…I don't know."

Kort slapped the driver on the shoulder. "It's none of your damn business, Jorge. Now turn off the car and shut up until they come back."

….

Paolo found it difficult to walk after all those months in a cell. He was further hampered because his hands were tied tightly behind his back. Still, they were patient with him, and didn't push him much through the corridors. When he walked out into the sun, he shouted out in delight. He had seen the sun through his window, but he hadn't felt it in months. He breathed in the air of the courtyard and bent to smell the grass. The guards pushed him along until he was in the center. He was too lost in the beauty of fresh air to contemplate what came next, but the men positioned him and he was forced to face a man with a gun.

He was actually little more than a boy carrying a very large rifle. He seemed unsure of himself, issuing no orders. Paolo pulled away from his captors and walked toward him. "Raoul, look at me."

The young man shook his head, and as Paolo came closer, he could see the tears coursing down his face.

"It is okay, Raoul."

"You were my professor. It is wrong for me to do this."

"Shh! The alternative is to leave this task for a sadist like Shakespeare. Would you have that be my end?"

Raoul shook his head.

"Dispatch me with dignity, Raoul. I am both ready and very grateful to you."

"This wasn't the plan."

"Ah, but we have a better plan now. It is a plan for Berumi. Our country will rise again, my friend."

"My heart is broken, Professor."

"Be a soldier now and send me into the next life."

Finally, Raoul nodded. He stepped back and aimed. Paolo pointed his face to the sun and the boy unloaded his rifle into the old man's chest.

…..