Even Gibbs' driving couldn't keep up with a medivac helicopter. That didn't prevent him from getting what remained of his team back to Bethesda hospital as quickly as he was capable of. In the rear view mirror he could see Tony hanging on to the handle above the window, something his senior agent didn't normally do. Inwardly he smirked. The half smile quickly died away.
Before they'd left Norfolk, he'd gone in to see Abby for a few moments. She was sedated and cocooned in bandages from the neck down where what she'd been through had left her skin red raw and bleeding. He didn't know what they'd done to her; hadn't pressed Ducky or Tony for details. He would, in coming days, but not yet. Despite the bandages, he could still see the ligature mark where Novikova had tried to choke her to death. The sight brought him close to tears, something that didn't happen easily.
He'd felt torn, leaving her here like that, with no-one that cared nearby; at least until he'd heard Ducky talking to her treating doctor. He'd never fully appreciated quite how persuasive his old friend could be, but the upshot of that conversation was that Abby was behind them somewhere in an ambulance, being transferred by road to Bethesda.
...
They were about 70 miles out of Norfolk when a stray thought crossed his mind, making him curse quietly and reach for his cell phone. He could sense the others in the car looking at him curiously as he flipped it open and dialled.
The McGee's were waiting on news of their son. By now, he knew, the hospital would have called them- they were his legal next of kin, after all- but it didn't matter. McGee was part of his team, he was the team leader, and that made it his responsibility. Same as it would be his responsibility later to call Abby's mother and tell her.
He hated making these calls, was glad they didn't have to be made too often. Even so, every single one of them was seared into his memory. At least this one, there was the possibility of hope.
The phone was answered so quickly, he could have sworn that the person on the other end was waiting for him to call.
"Agent Gibbs?"
Now he knew they'd been waiting. There was a strange depth of feeling to the two words, hope, desperation and the glimpse of one man's personal hell. He couldn't bear to spin it out.
"We got him."
There was silence, and for a long moment Gibbs thought they'd been disconnected. Then he caught the slight, choked noise and knew that Tim's father was doing his best not to cry.
"Is he ok?"
"He's in pretty bad shape. They're taking him to Bethesda-"
He was cut off. "We'll be right there."
The phone went dead, and Gibbs had to hide a smile. Given the opportunity, he rather thought he'd like McGee's parents.
...
They raced through the city traffic, pulling the car into a less-than-legal park in front of the hospital emergency department. Leaving the others to deal with an annoyed MP, Gibbs strode to the desk, waiting impatiently while the clerk looked for the information he wanted. He got the information just as Ducky touched him on the arm, an enquiring look on his face.
"They've taken him straight into surgery" he told his team. They stood in silence as the news sunk in. 'Straight into surgery' didn't sound good to any of them. Finally it was Tony who spoke.
"What do we do now, Boss?" And Gibbs knew that Tony knew full well that the only thing they could for McGee was hope, and that what he was really asking for was guidance and reassurance. But right now, Gibbs had none to give.
"Now we wait."