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xxx
Fred scrubbed the length of his face while talking on the phone, his patience waning. "No, but you don't understand, we couldn't just let him get away, he was there for a reason. His backup hadn't arrived yet, but he must have run our license plates by then."
"Yes, I want you to help me." Fred mumbled. "No, of course, I don't want to go to jail. Then what am I suppose to do?"
"I can't help it if it got out of hand. It should have been a smooth deal-" Fred stared at the bedroom door then snapped his gaze away, in shock. "What! I can't do that!"
"Yeah...he has blonde hair. Yeah, he's tall...I dunno. Yeah, he was wearing a NCIS badge. Really? But why? Yeah. I remember." He answered, exasperated.
Fred stomped his foot, his jaw tensing, then resigning into a slumped posture. "Yessss."
"Yesss. I will. Whatever...Yeah. We'll bring him. Yeah, I forgot about that... I'll leave soon."
xxxxx
"Tim. Come on Tim, wake up." Tim's eyes opened but immediately squeezed shut, as he winced with pain. Mike was standing over him, shaking his shoulders to rouse him.
"Mike...careful... my head. If you shake me any harder it'll probably explode."
"I'm barely shaking you."
Tim mumbled. "Well, that's encouraging..." Tim hesitated, looking at the beer can on the dresser across the room, then at Mike, puzzled.
"What?"
"Did you hold a can of cold beer against my head when I passed out?"
Mike frowned then nodded. Tim was relieved to see that Mike might finally be coming around. All of Tim's senseless babbling, earlier got the best of him and now he seemed to be befriending him. Tim knew he had seen 'good' in Mike's eyes, as opposed to Fred's, which held a darkness that gave him a chill, whenever he was near.
Tim slowly sat up straighter, fighting against his stubborn, sore muscles. "Well, I think it helped a bit. There's no longer two of you. So, what's with the courtesy wake up...nudge?"
"Well, I know how you want to keep awake, plus... I heard something." Mike kept his voice low, constantly snapping it back to check the door.
"Get to the point Mike, the clock is ticking-"
"Do you always wake up so grumpy?"
"Oh, I dunno... probably only the times I'm tied to a chair while awaiting my imminent, untimely death." Tim glared at Mike, sarcastically.
Mike gave him a nod, "Understandable." "Well...anyways. Fred was talking to the head honcho on the phone, the one he goes to when he doesn't know what to do when he has a problem-"
"So, I guess he's bagging the kidnapping... ransom idea."
"He said something about moving you-" A shot rang out causing them both to jump. Their eyes met,fear in their faces as they listened for more sounds; silent and still.
"That can't be good." McGee whispered.
"What do you think that was all about?" Mike asked with genuine honesty in his expression.
"My guess is, he's not out back shooting pheasants." Mike looked doubtful, then Tim realized his ignorance was what was probably going to get them both killed.
Tim would not let the overwhelming feeling of fear and dread take control, as he started to twist his tightly bound wrists, tears coming to his eyes from the pain it caused. His self-inflicted wounds felt swollen and burned with a fiery, never-ending pain.
"What do you think that shot was, Tim?" Mike's eyes stayed faithfully on the door as he talked to him. Tim could see sweat beading on his forehead from worry.
"You know more than me, go ask him."
"Should I-"
"No. I was just kiddin'."
"Mike? Ya sure you can't just loosen these for me?" Tim pleaded.
Mike looked at him skeptically, 'Ah...I dunno Tim. It's me and you against Fred and the other guys. Fred has a gun and our odds aren't good."
"They're never going to be good, Mike." Tim sighed. He perked up when an idea came to him, realizing he was wearing Ziva's wristband. A simple black, leather cord that she had given him after their return from Somalia. He could remember the pink in her cheeks, embarrassed to offer him something so small and inexpensive. He had assured her, he would treasure it always, giving her a friendly peck on the cheek.
He painstakingly worked it off his wrist and let it drop to the floor, as he looked to make sure it was hidden from immediate sight. He nudged his chair back, an inch so it was directly over it.
Mike moved quickly,when he heard steps approaching outside the door, finding his way back to his chair in the corner. Tim closed his eyes, tilting his head onto his shoulder. Tim could hear the door open then Fred noisily step by his side. He grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, violently shaking him. "Wake up. Change of plans, Mr. Fed." Tim let his eyes crack open,cautiously. "We're taking a little ride." Fred turned to Mike, as he stood, stepping closer to Tim. "When I come back I want him ready to go, blindfold him and...give him these so he's unconscious. He can't see how we get to where we're going, just as a precaution. And, keep his hands tied behind his back."
"What was that gunshot for, Fred?"
Fred pointed to Mike, "Don't ask any questions!" He left, slamming the door.
Mike considered the sleeping pills in his hand, then looked at Tim, "Can you fake it?"
Tim looked at the blue pills then nodded, sheepishly, knowing he was at Mike's mercy, hoping he would decide not to give him the drugs.
Mike slipped the tablets into his front pocket, "Okay...then," Mike rubbed his hands together then pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. "Let's get this fitted. "He tied it around Tim's forehead, "I'll pull it down when Mike comes back in-"
Tim looked at Mike, "Mike why are you doing this? Why are you being nice to me?"
Mike shrugged, "Lot's of reasons. Hey, it's not all about you. I have a wife and kid I have to think about."
"Oh." Tim nodded, nonchalantly. "But, thanks just the same."
"Hey, you may be alive for now, but I have no idea how we are going to get out of this."
"Don't you have a phone?" Tim asked, unpretentiously.
Mike shook his head. "Fred doesn't trust anyone that works for him to have one unless we need one for the job."
"Then, if you get a chance call NCIS and ask for... Zeev-"
They heard Fred coming back to the room and assumed their positions, Mike pulling the blindfold over Tim's eyes. "Ziva David." Tim whispered, then let his body go limp, concentrating to keep still and convincingly incapacitated.
"Is he out?" Fred grabbed Tim's face, then lightly slapped it, satisfied when there was no response. "Come on and help me carry him to the car." Fred grabbed Tim under his arms while Mike grabbed his feet. Tim's head bumped into the chair, with a loud knock. Mike almost smiled, impressed with Tim's performance when he didn't even flinch. That must have smarted. They carried him out of the house.
"Where's everyone else, Fred? You know, Pete, Todd and-"
"It's just you and me now...and what did I say about asking questions?"
Tim whipped his head to the side to uncover his eyes from the loosely-fitted bandanna then employed his best effort to escape as all hell broke loose.
xxx
"Hey, Pat. I'd like to buy a review."