A/N: Sorry to have left this so long. I had a rather serious infection about a month ago, and I thought I had caught it with the antibiotics, but it came back two weeks ago, and so I've been struggling to get back on top of it again. I appreciate anyone who is still able to follow the story. If you are still reading, I would love to know. There should be two more chapters. Sheila
A Man Left Behind
Chapter 7
Abby woke with a start at the touch on her shoulder. She stared into dim light of the early morning at the agent in charge of Vance's security detail. She couldn't place his name.
"Miss Scuito, the director wants you in his office now."
She nodded and scrambled to her feet. He disappeared while she searched one of her duffles for an unwrinkled shirt.
Minutes later, she was at his office door. She glanced up at the clock and noted that it was 5:30 a.m. She smoothed her hasty ponytails and entered.
Director Vance was seated at the head of his conference table looking remarkably put together for a man who probably hadn't been home since yesterday. To one side was Admiral James McGee and to the other was a man she didn't know. She was most definitely not dressed for the occasion.
The admiral looked up. "Abby, come sit next to me."
She froze. "Do you know something?"
Vance stood. "It's good…but very complicated."
"He's alive? They are all alive?"
Vance smiled. "As of 60 minutes ago, everyone is alive and accounted for."
She sagged against the table. "Oh God."
The admiral got up and put his arm around her. "I know exactly how you feel, but we have a long road ahead and we need your help."
"Anything," she whispered as he led her to a chair.
The man across from her reached over and shook her hand. "My name is Sheldon Parks. I'm the CEO of Interdyne."
She nodded and turned to Vance. "What do you know?"
"It's complicated. I had a very short call with Gibbs, and he said that they were unsuccessful in ransoming McGee from Saldana. However in a remarkable twist, a resistance group rescued him and has made contact with the team."
"How is he?" Abby was hardly able to stay in her seat.
"He's not good. Sick with malaria, suffering from malnutrition: Gibbs informed that he's been tortured. It's imperative that we get him out of there."
"Sons of bitches," James McGee muttered under his breath.
"We have to get him out of there now!"
"Agreed. The question is how."
There was a beep on the intercom and Vance hit a button, turning on the plasma. "This must be Gibbs. He was going to try and find a secure channel."
Gibbs came on looking tired in a way that hair color and contacts couldn't hide.
"Gibbs!" Abby was on her feet.
"You feeling confident about this connection?" Vance said.
"Ducky and I borrowed a little technology from the International Red Cross. Luckily, we had a geek with us to assist."
"Where is he? I want to see him."
"He's pretty sick, Abbs. He's sleeping now."
"Just a little peek."
"Stay focused!" he barked. "I don't want you to get distracted by a look at what they did to him."
She sucked in breath but said nothing more. Admiral McGee reached over and took her hand.
"What do you think are best options are, Gibbs?"
Gibbs shook his head. "I want to put him on a plane, but I don't know how. The only possibility is an Interdyne flight."
Parks shook his head. "That can't happen. I have 437 Americans on Berumian soil. If he gets discovered, every one of them is at risk for arrest by Saldana."
Gibbs sighed. "I know."
"Parks is right, Gibbs. What about getting him out by boat?"
Admiral McGee leaned forward. "I've looked into the possibility. I wanted to be prepared just in case, but the news is not good. We can't use Navy vessels, and the private security firms I have contacted will need weeks for planning. Even then, Berumi is a small island, and it will be hard to land anywhere undetected."
"We don't have weeks. We pressured Saldana to give us McGee's body. His people have probably already figured out that Tim escaped. There's going to be a manhunt, and our team is going to be under scrutiny. He already considers me to be a problem."
"Imagine that," Vance responded drily.
Parks stood. "I have an idea. Monterros has been paralyzed the last few months. My dear friend is afraid that Saldana is preparing a bullet for him. It has not been his finest hour. Let me contact him. I can talk to him about this; let him know that McGee's testimony could strengthen his position internationally. I am sure he has enough influence left to get him out of the country."
"That's a big risk," said the admiral.
Gibbs swiveled his head at a noise off camera. "We don't have a lot of choices, people. I don't know how secure this resistance group is, and I don't have the resources to hide him elsewhere."
Vance nodded to Parks. "Contact Monterros."
"I'll try to check in again at 2200 hours."
"Gibbs!" The admiral stood. "Tell him…tell him that getting him home safe is the only thing I care about. Tell him that his dad loves him."
Gibbs nodded and the screen went blank. Abby turned to Vance. "I don't know what I am supposed to do."
"I want a new set of passports for all of them, just in case. I have a feeling that the twists in this rescue are only just beginning."
….
Gibbs came back into the suite, and found McGee sitting up, trying to explain to Consuela that he could feed himself. She just batted his hands away and continued spooning soup into his mouth. Eponine stood against the wall, arms folded. She glared at him. "You were in contact with your people. I should've been there. McGee is my responsibility."
He shook his head. "Let's not do this again. We're not going to spend the day fighting over whom he belongs to. There is too much at stake here."
"Which is why I should've been there."
"I don't trust you yet and you don't trust me. Why don't you start by telling me who the hell you are, and maybe we can get somewhere."
"You arrogant American!"
Gibbs looked through the bag of groceries on the table and pulled out some bread and juice. "You said all that yesterday. We need a fresh conversation, Eponine."
"I owe you nothing."
"You are the daughter of a literature professor. What else?"
She tossed her head. "I'm much more than Paolo Fuentes' daughter. I am a government official."
"Really? You're standing there in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. What kind of official are you?"
"I work for President Monterros as his press liaison, but the old man has given up on anything but trying to stay alive. So there is very little to do at present."
"Does he know what you are doing?"
"No. He is oblivious."
"You're angry with him."
"Which is worse? A country run by a tyrant or one run by someone too frightened to act. At times, it is unclear to me which is the greater threat to Berumi."
"You must have access to news outlets all over the world. Why did you need the International Red Cross to tell your story?"
"You don't know much about public opinion, do you? I need a neutral vessel through which to carry testimony of Saldana's atrocities to the world. If I used local resources, it would be both dangerous and open to scrutiny."
"Fair enough. Do you know Saldana personally?"
She threw back her head and moaned. "Yes, I know the pig. I have known him for years. He used to be merely comical until he got a taste for blood. Power made him attractive to women, and then conquest became his favorite sport. He pursued me for years unsuccessfully, and then my father caught his attention with his leftist rhetoric. I tried to get the old man to stop, but he wouldn't. The only thing I could do to keep my father out of jail was to give in to Saldana. It worked for awhile, but the beast got bored. I was discarded and my father got arrested."
"Do you have any influence over him now?"
"I would have no reason to see him now except to stab him in the eyeball."
Eponine, Saldana is a vain man. If we play to his vanity, we might be able to buy more time. We need to know what will distract him."
"A woman will never fully distract him. We are accessories for him, nothing more."
"What else does he want?"
She thought for a moment. "He was born in Portugal. He loves the old country. More than anything, he wants the respect of the Portuguese people. The government refuses to indulge him because of his human rights record. They will only communicate with Monterros. It is one of the main reasons Monterros still breathes."
"What would this respect look like?"
She sighed. "There is a Portuguese journalist that he has always wanted me to bring to Berumi. He has always wanted this man to profile him. He is convinced that a positive story from this journalist will give him the respect he deserves."
"Can you make this happen?"
"This man has no interest in accommodating Saldana, and if he came, his story would not be a positive one."
"Is there a way to get Saldana to believe this man is coming and that he wants to do a flattering profile of Saldana?"
She shook her head.
"Think Eponine!"
"Why? Why does this matter?"
"Because getting McGee's testimony isn't enough. You have no real plan here. What were you going to do with him after he gives testimony? Were you going to drown him in the bathtub? Were you going to drop him off on the side of the highway? You knew that If they found him alive, they would find you!"
"What does it matter!? My country is in ruins and no one cares. My father is dead. Getting that testimony out is my only plan. What happens next is of no consequence to me!"
McGee pushed Consuela away. "Eponine, listen to me. I lay on the floor in a cell for eight weeks and talked to your father. That's all we did. We talked and when we did, he talked about you a great deal. He saw you as the future of Berumi. Destroying Saldana doesn't mean much if you and other good Berumians aren't around to rebuild it."
Her mouth twitched and then she turned to Gibbs. "The Portuguese journalist is Augusto Azul. What do you want of him?"
"I want Saldana distracted. I want him to think that this man is coming and that he is planning a positive story."
"It's a tough sell."
"Work on it, Eponine! Make it happen!"
She rolled her eyes and stomped out of the room. Gibbs sat down next to McGee's bed. "Thanks for the save."
McGee sighed. "We talked hours every day for weeks. I thought I knew everything about him. The truth is that he only mentioned Eponine once or twice. Said he didn't understand her."
"She hasn't been very good to you. I'm not sure she deserved that."
"I know what it's like to be the son of a great man, and to feel like he sees everything but you."
"Don't be so sure, Tim. I saw your father's face today. He is prepared to risk everything to bring you home."
Tim swallowed hard. "You've all worked so hard."
He patted McGee's hand. "You're worth it."
"I spent a lot of time preparing to die, Boss. It it's not possible to get me out of here, we have to talk about leaving me behind."
Gibbs shook his head. "We risked everything to get here. We're not walking away."
"Dying alongside me doesn't help me. You have to think of Abby. Can you imagine how scared she must be?"
"I just saw Abby's face. My job is to bring you home to her. Pure and simple."
He smiled. "I thought about her so much while I was in that hellhole. There are so many things I should've said to her when I had the chance. We live life like it's going to last forever, and so often we hide from our feelings from the ones who matter the most. I spent a lot of time in El Corazon thinking about how foolish it was just sitting on those feelings all these years."
"Well, you know how I feel about rule 12," Gibbs said with a hint of a smile.
"If I make it out alive, I think you're going to have to suck it up, Boss."
…..
"Why is Hanson not staying here at the villa, Laurent?!" General Saldana paced in front of him in the living room.
"We came to an impasse. I thought it would be best if he stayed in the city." Pierce's eyes darted to Kort nervously.
"What impasse? It concerns me, Laurent. I wish to know the issue that separates your team."
Tony watched as Pierce struggled to handle their unexpected houseguest. The general had barged into their villa only minutes earlier, and Pierce was left to improvise, a skill he clearly didn't have.
Laurent took a deep breath. "He was obsessed with the return of the American, McGee. When it was clear that we couldn't rescue a living American, he became disillusioned. I asked him to move into a hotel because there was too much fighting happening here."
"Good! You are finally showing a backbone, Laurent. Now send him home."
Kort stood. "We still need him in country. His contacts in the State Department are invaluable.
"I do not like him!"
"We'll keep him away from you, General," Kort said.
"And as for this returning of a dead body, I will not accommodate that because he was a spy. It is an indulgence that rubs me the wrong way."
"We're disappointed, General. We think it might really help."
Saldana turned on Tony. "I do not want to hear anymore about it, Hagen."
Tony nodded his head slowly. Then a door opened and Ziva emerged from the bedroom in a white string bikini and a black mesh cover-up that left nothing to the imagination. She smiled as she walked by the general. "You are like an angry tornado, General. Although, perhaps there is a better word. You don't have tornados in Berumi, do you?"
The General stared at her with undisguised lust. "I had hoped to see you, Cassia. You are more beautiful with every visit."
She wrapped her arms seductively around Laurent. "I thought we were going to dine with the general very soon. I've grown bored in this little paradise."
The general cleared his throat. "Laurent is clearly very busy. There is no reason you should wait. Tomorrow night, my car will pick you up at 6 p.m. and I will show you every pleasure Berumi has to offer."
She looked up at her boyfriend, "Laurent?"
Pierce nodded. "Of course, you should go, Cassia. The general is right. We are going to be working day and night."
Tony felt his heart pound in his chest, and he struggled to keep his expression relaxed.
"It's decided then," Saldana said with a broad smile. He extended a hand and Ziva took it. "We'll have a night to remember."
He let go of her hand with a smile, nodded at the rest of them, and marched out of the room. Tony stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before taking the lamp off the table next to him and slamming it into the wall. Broken pieces scattered across the tile floor.
Kort sighed. "Feel better?"
He shook his head and stormed out the back door. Ziva took a deep breath and followed.
….
Gibbs saw soldiers appear on the beach, armed with automatic weapons. He was standing ankle deep in the surf talking on the phone with Vance, and he slowly bent down like he was looking for shells, and he let his phone slide into the receding water. It was the biggest piece of evidence they could find. He scooped up a shell and stood.
The soldiers were spreading out on the beach, poking guns into beach totes and generally frightening the swimmers. His eyes darted to the parking lot and he saw two large trucks. There had to be at least three dozen soldiers there. Seeing only 8 on the beach meant that most of them were inside the hotel and his gut seized.
He'd left McGee with Consuela and Ducky half an hour ago. Before he could develop a plan, one of the soldiers pointed at him and shouted. Heads went up and several men with guns came trotting at him. He offered no resistance when they surrounded him. He needed to play the role of the indignant businessman.
One of the men stepped forward. "You are Jack Hanson."
He nodded. "I am."
"Handcuff him."
"What the hell is going on?! I know General Saldana!" Gibbs shouted as two soldiers cuffed him.
The soldier nodded. "It is the very General who has asked us to check on you. He doesn't trust you."
"I want to talk to him. At the very least, I need to talk to my supervisor, Laurent Pierce, with Interdyne."
A soldier poked his rifle in his back, propelling him forward. "We'd like a look at your hotel room."
Gibbs felt relief flood through him. There was nothing in his room but the suitcase he put there. Once they pushed him into the hotel, it was clear that it wouldn't be so simple. Tourists were crowded at the front desks loudly complaining about soldiers demanding to search their rooms. He knew then that they were actively looking for McGee, and they suspected him in his escape.
They pushed him into a chair in the lobby while they crowded in the corner to talk. People were milling around everywhere. There was a middle-aged woman with a sunburned nose sitting in the chair next to him, eying him warily. He darted his eyes in her direction. "Do you have a phone?" he mumbled.
She looked at the unorganized soldiers arguing in the corner and nodded.
"Pick it up and dial 1-545-684-9909, please."
She slowly picked up her phone and dialed, her eyes wide.
"Tell the man on the other end that Hanson is in trouble. Soldiers searching hotel. Tell Saldana to stop them."
The woman spoke quietly into the phone with a British accent. Then she hung up. He looked at her and mouthed, "Thank you."
One of the soldiers was back, frowning. He looked at the woman. "Is he bothering you?"
The woman shook her head. "Did he do something wrong?"
"It is not your concern, Ma'am. Did he say anything to you?"
She shrugged. "He just said that it was all a mistake."
"Your room is clear, Ma'am. May I ask you to return to it?"
The woman gathered up her towel, and hurried off. The soldier sat down in the empty chair. "My soldiers are in your room now. Perhaps, you would like to tell me what they will find. I can promise that your cooperation will be meaningful to us."
Gibbs leaned over. "You will find clothes, toiletries, and a briefcase. Nothing else."
"You work for the U.S. government."
"I work for Interdyne."
The soldier slapped him in the face hard. Everyone in the lobby gasped. Gibbs took the hit and stared right back at him. "This is going to do wonders for the tourist trade."
"Cala-te!"
"I'm an American citizen!" Gibbs said loudly. "Please report this incident to your embassy!"
The soldier swung at him again and he let out a groan, making sure everyone heard it. Other soldiers tried to herd people into elevators. Gibbs looked around the room and caught sight of something extraordinary. She was striding toward them in a Chanel suit and tasteful gold jewelry: her unruly hair twisted skillfully into a bun.
She stopped in front of them and began a tirade in Portuguese directed at the soldier. From the hand gestures and indignation, Gibbs could tell she was dressing him down for the spectacle in front of hotel guests. At first, the soldier tried to power struggle, but his energy was no match for hers. He pulled orders out of his pocket and she slapped them to the ground and stomped on them with a very expensive high heel. He pulled out a phone and dialed a number. Gibbs heard the name Saldana as the soldier handed it to her. She snatched it from him and continued her litany of abuse. Gibbs watched in fascination as she volleyed with the general. Finally, the conversation slowed, and she handed it back to the soldier. He winced at the voice on the other end, mumbled apologies, and then hung up. He gestured for a colleague to uncuff Gibbs and pulled him to his feet.
The soldier stood, "I have been instructed to apologize on behalf of General Saldana. We were given orders that were unclear. We apologize for any inconvenience. The government of Berumi will pick up your hotel tab for the rest of your stay in our beautiful country."
"Have you searched my room?"
"We have."
"Then you know that I am nothing more than an employee for Interdyne."
"Yes sir."
"I would like to return to my room."
"Of course, sir." The soldier stood aside and let Gibbs pass. Eponine followed, pretending to introduce herself as she got into the elevator with him.
Once the elevator was moving, he turned to her. "McGee."
"In the laundry room under a mountain of dirty sheets."
He relaxed against the wall.
"Consuela will bring him up when the soldiers are all gone."
"No one can see him in the corridors."
"Of course. We're not idiots. Let's go to your room and talk."
He let her in and they surveyed the carnage. Every item of clothing was out and thrown about the room. He shook his head. "They have no discipline. If there was something to find, they would never know what it is."
She sat down on a bed and crossed her legs. "I contacted Augosto Azul in Portugal, and promised him a story he couldn't resist. He gets on a plane tomorrow."
"Does Saldana know?"
"I talked to the pig. He thinks it is Azul's idea to come."
"He doesn't question your motives."
"He thinks I fear him now. He is enjoying my obedience."
"You didn't sound like you feared him on the phone in the lobby."
"I am a press liaison. It is my job to protect the image of my president as well as the country. It was an idiotic move to search the hotel like this. It is why I hid him here. I thought there was no way he would do this in front of foreign visitors. I was wrong."
"Can you make sure it gets out to a few new outlets so that he's embarrassed?"
"Of course. There is a large contingent of British tourists. I will leak it to the BBC."
There was a knock on the door. Gibbs got up and looked through the peephole. He quickly unlocked the door and Tony, Ziva, and Kort came in. Gibbs looked behind them. "Where is Pierce?"
"We left him in the bar once we realized the soldiers were leaving. I don't think he can handle any more surprises."
"You sure he's okay?"
Ziva rolled her eyes. "He had a bottle of Chilean wine in front of him that he was nursing like a baby. He'll be just fine."
Tony looked around the destroyed room. "Where's McGee?"
"Under a pile of dirty laundry."
"Ewww!"
There was another knock and Gibbs jumped to the door. He looked through the peephole and deflated visibly, and he opened the door to let in Consuela pushing a large laundry cart. Ducky followed. "We thought it best to bring him here. We know it is one place that has been thoroughly searched."
Hands reached in and uncovered McGee. They pulled him to his feet and helped him to the bed. Once on the bed, he pushed people away in irritation. Tony watched him. "You okay, Tim?"
"I'm tired of this. I want this to be over. No more fear. No more hiding. I want it done!"
"Hey! It's okay." Gibbs sat down beside him.
He shook his head. "It's not. Everyone is at risk. Look at Consuela there. They would've shot her dead if they'd found us. We can hardly communicate, but she has been nothing but kind to me. What about her family? What about all of you? I'm done!"
Consuela looked at Eponine in confusion.
Gibbs nodded. "We got a plan. Monterros is arranging to get you out on his private yacht tomorrow night. It's over, Tim. We're just waiting for the ride."
"You mean it?"
"We got a rendezvous set for 9 p.m. tomorrow night. We're going to put you on, and then the rest of us fly out the next day."
McGee nodded. "Good. I have one thing to do before I get on that boat. Eponine, I owe you my story."
"There is a journalist coming from Portugal tomorrow."
Gibbs shook his head. "We don't have time for that. Saldana will be all over him. There will be no way to get him here."
"Boss, this happens before I leave. I owe this to Eponine and her father. We don't know if I'm going to make it out of here. The story happens now."
"Ducky?"
"The Committee wants to leave tomorrow. Let me talk to the chair. Perhaps, I can convince to do the interview despite the circumstances."
"Please Ducky. I need to do this."
Ducky nodded and left the room. Ziva shook her head. "This doesn't feel right. I don't want you giving up."
"I'm not, Ziva. Ten weeks, I've been a victim. This is the one thing that I can do that will help this country. I'm not going to risk that I won't have another chance. We do it now."
Eponine whispered something to Consuela who took the laundry cart and left. "I underestimated you, McGee."
McGee leaned heavily against the headboard. "Let's just do it."
….
Gibbs leaned over the balcony and watched tourists lounge in beach chairs. There was an uncharacteristically cool wind blowing, and people were reaching for cover-ups. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever stayed in a hotel for the purpose of sitting in sand and staring out at water. People called these things vacations.
"Boss."
He turned his head and squinted at Tony.
"Ducky talked to the head of the International Red Cross team. They're going to set up and do the interview."
He nodded.
"If this journalist is coming tomorrow, there's no reason for Ziva to dine with Saldana."
He looked at Tony. "The journalist will be tired from the flight. Ziva should keep her date."
"Why?"
"Because we're not talking about your girlfriend here. We're talking about a highly trained agent. She needs to keep that date."
"She's not invincible."
"He's not either, and I'd bet on her over him any day of the week."
"I'm going with you to the rendezvous with Monterros' yacht."
Gibbs shook his head. "No. You're going to wait for Ziva, and then all of you are getting on an early morning flight out of Berumi."
"You're going to be on it too."
The edge of his mouth twitched. "Yeah. Me too."
"God, I can't wait until we're all home."
Gibbs looked him in the eye. "I wasn't wrong to leave him before. I had to do it, but I couldn't live with it because it was painful. Sometimes, you have to be strong enough to walk away, Tony."
"What does that mean? We're all getting out of here."
He nodded slowly. "Unexpected things happen. When that flight gets ready to leave day after tomorrow, you and Ziva are on it, no matter what. You hear me?"
"Nothing is going to happen, Boss."
"Don't disappoint me, Tony. I need to know you'll do the right thing even if it's hard."
"I don't like this conversation."
Gibbs leaned in close. "I better be able to count on you when the time comes."
Then he pushed away from the railing and walked back into the room.
….
McGee insisted on dressing and sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, backlit with a camera. A white haired man from Belgium was sitting across from him asking preliminary questions. The team was lined against the back wall.
McGee looked past his interviewer. "It might be better if you all went somewhere else while I did this."
Tony shook his head, arms folded across his chest. "We want to know all of it."
The interviewer nodded his head. "They will all sign affidavits as witnesses. Normally, my team would act as witnesses, but it's not safe to involve them. We'll take the tape when we fly out tomorrow."
Gibbs nodded. "Dr. Mallard will carry it."
Ducky looked at him in alarm. "I should stay with the rest of you."
"No way, Duck. We're closing down the shop. We'll be following only a few hours later."
The interviewer turned back to Tim. "Are you ready?"
McGee nodded.
"We've gone over the details of your presence in Berumi. Tell me about the first instance of your rights being violated."
McGee nodded. "It was at the airport. My boss, Gibbs, had boarded a plane with two teen-agers. I was getting ready to follow and an official asked me to stay back for some questions. He was suspicious and I was worried that he would discover that the adolescents with us with U.S. Navy dependents. I was able to answer the first few questions, but I could sense his distrust. Then I saw the soldiers start for the gate, and the plane was getting ready to taxi. I didn't know what else to do so I yelled something to get their attention and I started running away from the gate. It got their attention. Guards started chasing me. I was tackled by several men. I was kicked and punched. Then I was pulled to my feet and held while a man butted me in the gut with his rifle."
"How long did this go on?"
He shrugged. "I don't remember. I blacked out periodically. I was dragged to different rooms. Men in uniforms yelled at me all hours of the day and night. I was beaten so often I stopped registering the pain. I have no real organized memories until they took me to El Corazon."
Ziva slipped her hand into Tony's and squeezed tightly.
"Tell me about El Corazon."
McGee took a deep breath. "I want to start with the courtyard. I've memorized names and events. I want you to tell you of the people who were dragged into the courtyard and of the monsters who tortured and killed them…"
The interviewer nodded. "Okay, Mr. McGee. Take your time. I want to hear everything."
…..