CHAPTER TWENTY
Owens approached the figure on the bed. The ICU was a noisy place. The sound of the respirator, monotonous beep of the monitors and the urgent voices out in the hallway hardly made for peaceful surroundings.
McGee's face was bone white, his eyes sunken like dark pits. Hardly even looked like him. The lower half his face was masked by the respirator and tape. His body and arms festooned with tubes and wires attached to various machines arrayed around the bed. Owens' gaze slid down to McGee's torso, heavily swathed in layers of bandages. Again Owens shuddered. This was probably his worst nightmare. Being bound to a bed, kept alive by machines. How could anyone live like this?
He looked at McGee's face again. He saw little of the admiral's strong features there. There was a time he'd actually felt sorry for the younger McGee; a certain amount of empathy. His own childhood hadn't been easy after his father left and started a new family, leaving him out in the cold. So, he could understand some of McGee's pain. However, that was before he became a threat. Owens would be damned if he'd be pushed out again. The admiral deserved so much more than weak, pathetic Timothy McGee. He deserved someone like Jason Owens.
Owens reached into his pocket and pulled out the syringe. He gripped it tightly, his mouth dry. He didn't have to do this. McGee could very well die on his own, but was he willing to take that chance? Owens lips formed a hard, straight line. No. He wasn't.
He moved close to the bed and lifted the sheet searching for a place to inject the medication. Grimacing, he bared just enough of McGee's hip and quickly jabbed the needle in, firmly injecting the amoxicillin. He yanked the needle out, a few drops of blood splattering on the snowy white of the sheet.
Owens was sweating freely now. Killing a man on the battlefield was easy compared to this. He quickly returned the bedclothes and stepped away. He suddenly noticed the syringe still gripped in his hand. He swept his gaze across the room and spotted a red medical waste container. What better place to get rid of evidence than in plain sight? Wiping down the surface of the syringe, he slipped it through the opening at the top of the waste container. Then wiping his hands on trousers he took a final look at Timothy McGee.
"Sorry, Tim. Really, I didn't want to do this, but you understand. I can't let the admiral give up everything he's worked so hard for. You'd just be a distraction. It's better this way. For all of us."
He laid a hand on Tim's arm then gasped. Tim's eyes were now open, not completely, but Owens could see them focus on his face. He went cold and stumbled back a step. Swallowing hard, he turned and fled from the room.
xxx
Gibbs roared into the hospital parking lot slamming on his brakes in front of the main entrance. It had taken far too long to get here. He flung open the door and leapt to the sidewalk flashing his badge at anyone who approached. He didn't have time for explanations.
He strode through the front door towards the elevator bank. As if on cue, the elevator door opened just as he approached. Still waving his badge, he pushed forward. The hospital seemed crammed full of people tonight. Far more than you would expect. He glanced at his watch as he punched the button for the 3rd floor but as the doors slid shut, he stiffened. Striding quickly towards the main entrance was Lt. Owens. What the hell was he doing here? Gibbs' gut tightened another notch.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone again. Finally. A signal. He hit a button and waited.
"Yeah, Boss?"
"DiNozzo, I'm at the hospital. I just saw Owens leave. Find him."
There was a moment of hesitation. "On it, Boss."
Gibbs snapped the phone shut. God, I hope I'm not too late.
When the doors opened onto the third floor, Gibbs was faced by a mob of people. He heard someone mention a bus accident. Must have been what shut down the highway. He scanned the crowd looking for any of his team that might have returned early, but saw no one. Urged on by his increasing anxiety, he waded through a multitude of distraught people to finally reach the nurses' station.
Numerous agitated people were gathered around, clamoring for attention. The harried nurses tried to calm them. There were simply too many. Part of the problem was no one was sure which victims had been sent to which hospital and chaos was the result.
Gibbs pushed his way to the front ignoring the protests and angry words.
"Federal agent!" he barked, flashing his badge. Grudgingly, some of the people gave way.
An exhausted nurse barely glanced at him as she frantically typed information into a computer.
"One of my men is here," said Gibbs, his voice urgent. "I have reason to believe something may have happened to him. I need to see him. Now."
"I'm sorry, sir," replied the nurse never looking up, "But until things have settled down, no visitors are being allowed back here."
"Dammit, I am not here as a visitor! My agent may be in serious danger. I need to see him."
The nurse would not be swayed. She had been dealing with demanding, hysterical people all night and she'd heard it all.
"Sir, I'm sorry, I can't let you back here. I'm sure your agent is fine. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
"No! I will not. If you don't let me in, I will go over there and shoot the lock off that goddam door."
The nurse's hands froze over the keyboard as her eyes snapped up to gape at Gibbs.
"I'm very serious." Gibbs leaned closer, his voice low. "There is something wrong. I need to see Timothy McGee. I am a federal agent and I don't have time for this bullshit."
The nurse swallowed and glanced backwards as if for backup, but the other medical personnel were all busy with the new patients. "Sir," she began slowly, "I am calling security. This is the intensive care unit and we have some seriously injured people that have just arrived. I cannot allow you back here. There are far too many people here as it is. I will send someone down to check on Mr. McGee as soon as I can."
Cursing, Gibbs saw no way to get past the desk itself. It was really just a window into the office space beyond. But, he knew he had to get back there. His gut was sounding an alarm so loud he was almost surprised the entire room couldn't hear it. He whirled and strode over to the door pulling his gun from its holster.
"Sir! Please step away from the door and drop the weapon."
Furious, Gibbs turned to see two armed security guards approaching. The people in the waiting room had grown silent, hurriedly backing up, away from the scene developing before them.
Slowly, Gibbs lowered his weapon as he held out his badge and ID. "I am NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I have a seriously wounded agent back there who may have been the target of an attack. I need to see him and verify he is all right."
"Sir," said the burly guard on the right, moving close enough to snatch up Gibbs' weapon. "That does not give you the right to threaten to shoot people."
Gibbs rolled his eyes. Honestly, where did they get these guys? "I did not threaten to shoot anyone. I threatened to shoot the lock off this damn door. I'm telling you, my agent may be in serious trouble. I need to get in there now!"
Just then, the door behind Gibbs opened as a doctor stepped out looking for family members of one of his patients. Without hesitation, Gibbs shoved the man out of the way and ducked through the door. He'd had enough of this. McGee needed him now.
He ran down the hallway to McGee's room. The place was as crazy back here as it had been in the front. Patients were lined up on gurneys in the hallway as they awaited space. Doctors and nurses were swarming around them. Gibbs ignored all of this as he wove in and out of the scrubs-clad personnel. He could hear shouting behind him, but there was no time.
Finally, he reached his destination. He yanked open the door and darted in. He froze.
McGee's face was swollen and bright red. He seemed to be convulsing, his body rigid and shaking. Gibbs hesitated for only a moment. He turned back to the door.
"We need some help in here!"
A moment later he was at McGee's side. He grabbed onto his hand. "C'mon McGee, stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me!" McGee's eyes fluttered opened. Gibbs could see the pain and panic reflected there. Gibbs leaned forward trying to catch McGee's eye.
"McGee! Tim! Look at me!"
For the briefest moment, McGee's terrified gaze locked onto Gibbs'. Gibbs felt McGee's hand clench before his eyes rolled up and his body convulsed again.
Gibbs looked up briefly to see the two security guards burst into the room. The two men froze staring at McGee's flailing body. Alarms started going off and seconds later, several nurses and a doctor came pouring into the room shoving the guards out of the way. The two men quietly retreated back into the hall.
"Blood pressure is dropping!"
Gibbs kept his eyes glued on McGee's face, keeping a low but steady stream of words flowing, hoping something got through. He frowned. He could see multiple red welts forming on McGee's chest.
"Hives?"
The doctor's head snapped up from the machine he'd been studying. "What?"
Gibbs pointed. "Looks like hives."
The doctor's eyes widened. He turned to the nurse. "Epinephrine! Stat! He's in anaphylactic shock."
The heart monitor's alarm began to blare.
"We've lost his pulse."
"Blood pressure 50 over 20 and dropping."
A nurse slapped a syringe into the doctor's hand and he jabbed it into McGee's arm. A second nurse began CPR.
"C'mon, Tim. Don't give up!" Gibbs squeezed McGee's hand hard. The sound of his own heart beat loudly in his ears almost drowning out the sound of the alarms.
Gibbs was so focused on Tim he barely heard the call for a second round of epinephrine while the nurse continued CPR.
When the heart monitor alarm abruptly cut off, the silence was jarring. All heads turned to stare at the machine where the tracing of McGee's erratic heartbeat was now being recorded.
"He's back." The doctor placed a hand on the nurse's arm, signaling her to stop her efforts. She stepped back and pushed some loose hair from her moist brow.
They now turned their attention to McGee's face. The deep red was starting to fade. His body lay limp against the damp sheets. Again, his eyes fluttered open but this time Gibbs was there.
McGee's stared at him, his body going rigid with pain and fear. He was starting to fight the respirator. "Tim, it's okay," Gibbs voice was low and soothing. "You're gonna be fine now. Just relax, I'm here."
McGee blinked and gradually Gibbs felt his body relax. McGee's eyelids slowly dropped closed. Gibbs now looked up at the doctor.
The doctor was scowling down at McGee's chart shaking his head. "I don't understand it. He hasn't been given anything that would have caused an anaphylactic response."
Gibbs glanced back at McGee then up to the doctor. "I don't think it's anything you did. As I tried to tell them out there, I suspect someone was trying to kill Agent McGee."
The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "Kill him? Why? I mean, his condition is so precarious, he may very well not make it as it is. God knows, this didn't help.
"That was probably the point. Push him over the edge." Gibbs paused as he listened to the hiss of the respirator. It killed him to think that they had left McGee defenseless. He had no doubt Lt. Owens was responsible. But, he still had to prove it. Seeing him walking across the lobby wasn't evidence enough to prove he'd attempted to kill McGee.
"How is he now?"
The doctor stepped closer and began to examine McGee. Gibbs continued to keep a hand on McGee, wanting him know he was still there.
Suddenly, Gibbs' phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and snapped it open. It was DiNozzo.
"Talk to me Tony."
"Boss, we got him. Ziva and I caught up with him near his apartment."
"You search him?"
"Yeah, we found a vial in his pocket." There was a slight pause. "It says amoxicillin. That important?"
"You just found the smoking gun, DiNozzo. Hold him."
Gibbs closed the phone. "The guy I told you about. I think he injected McGee with amoxicillin. I assume that would induce an anaphylactic reaction."
The doctor leafed through the file, nodding slowly. "I'll say. According to this, Agent McGee has a severe allergy to penicillin. That would be more than enough." He now looked directly at Gibbs. "Thank god you got here when you did. Even a couple of minutes later and I don't think we could have saved him. As it is, this may have set him back. His blood pressure is still dangerously low. We'll monitor his recovery from the anaphylaxis. He'll probably need more epinephrine. Sometimes people with severe allergies relapse later. If we don't catch it immediately, it'll probably kill him."
Gibbs eyed the doctor. "He won't be left alone again. Me or one of my agents will be with him at all times."
At first he thought the doctor was going to protest but after studying Gibbs for a moment, the doctor sighed and nodded. "All right. He would be dead now if not for you. I'll let the others know that you and your agents may come and go at will."
"I'll give you a list of approved personnel. No one else is allowed in to see him."
Again the doctor nodded as the nurses bustled around changing McGee's IV, checking the machines and examining his bandages. Finally, they seemed to agree McGee was stable for the moment and left.
Gibbs sat silently beside McGee. He took a deep breath and blew it out feeling the tension slide from his body. It had been too damn close. He picked up his phone. He needed to let DiNozzo know what was going on. They would charge Owens with attempted murder. He suddenly chuckled and shook his head. Admiral McGee would not be happy.
xxx
A/N: Sorry for the delay. Had to leave town again for a week (building a house out of state). Thanks for your patience.