Disclaimer : Still own nothing. Just having fun.
Author's Note : Thanks for all the favs and follows. Glad to see so many people enjoying this. Also, huge thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave a review. I do love seeing what you guys thinks.
Apologies on the late update. Will do my best to get a new one up tomorrow, but it's a crazy week at work again.
Italics in this chapter are to show dialogue on the phone and translation. Couldn't find anyone who spoke Russian well enough to help me write this chapter.
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6:43pm – St. Catherine's Hospital – Capitol Hill, Washington, DC – Concurrent with Tony DiNozzo's Entertainment Especial -
Before the elevator doors fully open, Gibbs slithers through them, leaving Fornell and Ziva on their own to catch up. Not even bothering to read the signs overhead, he rushes past scrub-clad personnel and patients pushing IV poles through the brightly lit hallway. He locates the dark-haired man in a Metro police uniform at the nurse's station clear on the other side of the building.
Leaned over a wood paneled desk, the cop tries to engage an obviously bored redhead in conversation.
"Officer Bowser?" Gibbs interrupts, reaching for his badge.
Chat cut short, the officer turns around, hawkish features twisted in annoyance. Over his shoulder, Gibbs watches the redhead roll her eyes, then drop them back to her magazine.
"Agent..."
"Fornell, FBI," Fornell wheezes his presence as he appears by Gibbs' shoulder.
"Gibbs. Officer David, NCIS," Gibbs says, gesturing to himself and Ziva.
"Officer Derek Bowser, nice to meet y'all." The cop extends his hands to the group, then looks back to the redhead. "I'll catch you later, Viv. Give me a call so we can finally get that drink."
Bowser winks suggestively before he marches down the hallway. When she grimaces at the cop's back, Gibbs can't help but smirk. He trails the group down the brightly-lit corridor. The doors on either side are open slightly, each revealing an identical scene of a hospital bed. A whooping cough sounds nearby, and Bowser covers his nose and mouth with his hands to ward the germs away.
"So what happened, officer?" Fornell asks breathlessly, struggling to keep up with the cop's long strides.
"Well, it's like my partner reported on the phone. We were on routine patrol heading north on Q Street Southwest when we came across a Jane Doe heading east on Third Street Southwest. We were unable to communicate with her, so we brought her to the hospital as a precaution. The doctors in the ED did a standard work-up." Bowser's features pinch again, his dark eyes turning nearly black.
"For what?" Gibbs speaks up.
"Sexual assault, Agent Gibbs. Based on the bruising evident on her physical exam, Dr. Chapmen felt it necessary to complete a rape kit. Came back positive for spermicide. Jane Doe got upset during that part, but my partner managed to calm her down. I'm not entirely sure she understands what's going on." Bowser checks his watch. "Looks like we're stuck until social services shows up so we can transfer custody."
When they reach a closed door, Bowser plops into a chair by it.
"You take her statement?"
"Tried, but we haven't been able to. Jane Doe speaks something that sounds like Russian, but she doesn't understand any of the languages we tried. So we're still waiting on someone from social services that might be able to talk to her. They're spread thin at the moment…you know how it is." He shrugs apologetically. "Until then, the physical evidence will have to speak for itself." Closing his eyes, he rests his head against the wall. "She seems to like my partner, so we'll probably be here a while."
Gibbs' frown deepens. "Your partner said Jane Doe might've seen my agent?"
"You'd have to ask her yourself." When Gibbs starts to head inside, Bowser grabs his arm and gestures to Ziva. "Might want to send her. Jane Doe's not too keen on men."
Gibbs looks over shoulder, surveying Ziva's rigid stance.
"Rather handle it myself." He sweeps the cop's hand away. "Might even get a statement for ya."
He wrenches the door open, an overwhelming reek of pine hitting him in the face, like someone's sprayed an air freshener one too many times. Coughing, Gibbs freezes at the sight of the rail-thin teenager in the oversized hospital bed. Blonde hair slick with grease and dirty face covered with deep purple bruises in different stages of healing, she meets his eyes. When he reaches the edge of the bed, he notices that she holds the hand of the red-haired cop in the visitor's chair. Her knuckles are whiter than the sheets.
"Agent Gibbs?" the cop asks, voice soft.
He nods slowly, showing his badge. "Officer Johnson?"
"Hailey, please, - " she gestures to the teenager, smiling helplessly, "- and I don't know who this is."
"Your partner said you think she might speak Russian?"
Shrugging slightly, she meets his gaze. "Well, we've tried several others. No one at the hospital on this shift speaks it, so we're hoping someone might be soon."
"You speak Russian?"
The teenager's eyes snap to his face, life seeping back into them quickly.
"What's your name? How old are you?"
Hailey gasps, quieting when Gibbs holds up his hand. There's a long silence as the teenager studies him, trying to determine whether she can trust him.
"Ksenia Ilyinichna Petrova, and I'm fifteen. Who are you?" she says.
"Agent Gibbs. I'm here to help."
"That's exactly what he said."
"Who said that?" When Gibbs takes a step forward, she bristles, pressing deeper into her pillows. "I won't hurt you."
"That's what they say…that's what they always say!" she murmurs, tears springing to her eyes.
"Ksenia, who's they?"
"The men with the stars on their necks. They always promise they won't hurt us, but they do. They take us to people who do things…terrible things." Her mouth opens in a silent scream and she touches her hand to her swollen cheek. "And if we try to say no, the men with the stars…they hit us until we do what we're told. I never do what I'm told…neither does Katja. Oh my G-d, Katja. She was right behind me…did anyone find her? She was right behind me!"
"Did you see anyone else on patrol?" Gibbs asks, watching the tears well in Ksenia's eyes.
Hailey shakes her head, squeezing the teenager's hand. "She was the only one all afternoon."
Ksenia seemingly understands, letting out a heart-crushing wail as she presses the blanket to her face. While her thin body quakes with sobs, Hailey squeezes her shoulder. Gibbs perches on the edge of the bed, studying his shoes. A few minutes pass until Ksenia re-emerges, forcing a brave smile on her tear-streaked face.
"I lost Katja and Irina in one of the hallways. The men with the stars were coming and we got split up and I didn't…" her chest heaves as she barely holds back the sobs, "…I didn't know where to go. I walked through a lot of hallways…there were lots and lots of turns, then a doorway. Then I was on a street with buildings that all looked the same. I walked and walked and I was so cold."
Anguish twists her battered features, and Gibbs touches her hand. The way she recoils feels like a kick to his chest.
"We're going to find them," he promises. "Can you tell me how many girls there are?"
"Eight, including me. Sometimes there's more, sometimes there's less. It depends on who gets taken on a job - " her hands twist the blanket tightly " - and who comes back."
Before she can dissolve into tears again, Gibbs reaches into his pocket to slide out a few photos. When he holds out Tim's personnel image, she squints through her swollen eyes, so he steps closer. The way she shrinks towards Hailey breaks his heart, but there's nothing he can do about it.
"You seen him?"
"That's Maggeee Teem. He helped me…is he okay?"
"I don't know yet." He pauses when her breathing turns ragged, opting to show her a picture of Tony instead. Her light eyes narrow at the senior agent's easy grin. "You seen him?"
"He's the one with the fire and the stars." She spits right at Tony's face. Wiping the spittle on his pants, Gibbs slides the picture back into his pocket.
"That's your agent, isn't it?" Hailey asks, taking Tim's picture from Gibbs. "Does she know anything?"
"Not as much as I'd hoped, but there are more girls out there and my agents are still alive. Can't tell us where she was held. Where'd you pick her up?"
"Just off Q Street Southwest by the old oil plant, but she was literally freezing when we found her. Looked like she'd been walking for a while. There are a lot of abandoned warehouses down there. She could've been anywhere," Hailey relays, making Gibbs' scowl deepen.
He rises from the bed, pacing the length of the room before turning back to the women. Propped up against the hospital-issue pillows, Ksenia appears far younger than her years. Fearing that this lead might be a waste of time, Gibbs flicks through his photos, stopping at the one of the teenager in the morgue.
He sighs.
She shouldn't have to see this…but she might just be the key to his corpse's identity.
"What are you looking at?" Ksenia asks, pointing to his collection.
"Something I need your help with."
"If I can help to find them, show me."
When he follows the quiet voice back to the bed, their eyes lock, and Gibbs is amazed by how much she ages in the span of a few seconds. With her jaw set defiantly and determination burning in her eyes, Ksenia resembles the woman that she's growing into. When he gets closer to her, she yanks the photo out of his hand to study the lifeless face. Tears welling in her eyes, she looks back up at him.
"Yelena Nikolayova Korovina. She was already there when I arrived. We used to talk at night. She went out once and never came back. Did she do it to herself?" When Gibbs nods, Ksenia smiles knowingly. "G-d answered her prayers."
Her response breaks his heart. Unable to form words, he takes her hand, and she squeezes it back. There's a long silence until his phone buzzes to life, the screen flashing an unknown number.
He flips it open. "Gibbs."
"Boss, it's DiNozzo. Trace this phone."
Gut in knots at the tense voice, Gibbs waves to the women as he darts back into the hallway. Both Fornell and Bowser lean against the wall, and Ziva rests in the chair by the door. When Gibbs snaps his fingers and points to his phone, she shoots to her feet and pulls out her cell.
"Tony, where's – "
"Carreras is taking him to Baltimore and I'm going too. I'll contact you when I can."
"Where are you now?" he breathes, bolting down the hallway to the emergency stairwell.
"In a warehouse near Buzzard Point. The girls are here."
"Just stay put. We're on our way."
Even though his feet slam against the steps and his pulse echoes in his ears, Gibbs can only focus on the quiet voice in the background on Tony's end.
"Come on, man, we gotta go."
"Right behind ya."
Gibbs' blood runs cold. Pressing the phone deeper to his ear, he strains for any noises that might give away his agents' location, but there's only looming silence. When Gibbs hits the ground level, he barrels into the door, letting his momentum carry him into the freezing fall air. He pauses, listening to the unsettling stillness on the other end of the call.
DiNozzo's already gone.
He punches the air, hoping Tony'll feel that headslap wherever he is. Screwing his face in disgust, Gibbs glances around the poorly-lit hospital campus to where he parked the Charger on their arrival. While his breathing evens, Fornell and Ziva burst through the door behind him.
"Abby confirmed an address. The cell phone is near the intersection of Half and R Streets, Southwest," Ziva reports, shoulders hitching as she pants.
"Then let's try to catch them in time. Think you can get us some back-up, Tobias?"
Fornell, doubled over and breathing hard, gives him a thumbs-up. Gibbs grins. Locating the Charger parked sideways under a street lamp, he sprints towards it. Ziva arrives first, sliding into the passenger seat. Fornell collapses into the backseat.
He doesn't get a chance to close the door before the car squeals out of the parking lot.