Thanks for all the reviews, follows and faves, all so deeply appreciated
xx
He kneeled by the dead body, his shoulders slumping with relief. "It's not, McGee." He whispered, comforting himself with words of confirmation.
He fell back, sitting onto the ground. The adrenaline that had coursed through his veins, moments ago, dissipated like a mist in a breeze, leaving his body shaky and weak. The fear of what could have been, and what could still be, gripped him harshly, tightening his chest. The stranger laying there could have been McGee, his partner, his best friend; senselessly murdered over a stupid joke that was never even funny in the first place. As the realization sunk in, each breath became more and more labored; Tim could still die if he didn't already. He checked the man's pulse but knew it was too late for him. He heard Gibbs' and Ziva's thundering footsteps stop abruptly, once they had neared, no doubt horrified to see the characteristics of the dead man that were similar to Tim's. Tony met their gazes, detecting the desperation in their eyes, awaiting his verdict.
He answered them as he inhaled, struggling to gain control of his breathing, "It's not him, it's not McGee." The two of them, almost collapsed with relief. No longer assuming the dead body was that of their dear friend's; their courage returned as they approached.
Gibbs removed his cap to run his hand through his hair, then replaced it. "Call Ducky, get him here, pronto." Ziva opened her phone, taking a few steps away from Gibbs to notify the ME, and discuss their findings. Gibbs crouched, observing the dead man, noticing the bullet wound. Tony was impressed to see the instant renewal in his senior agent's demeanor, his determination returning with a positive, unstoppable force.
Gibbs made eye contact with Tony. "This guy could lead us to McGee. We need to find out how many guys were working for Crevits. My hunch is, one or more of them got away. I believe Tim was outnumbered, guessing by the amount of empty beer cans, garbage and waste I found in the kitchen. What's your sitrep so far, DiNozzo?" Gibbs rose, his stature; tall and positive, placing his hands on his hips, while eager for answers.
Tony found strength in Gibbs' new found optimism and welcomed it. It took a moment for him to get to his feet, hopping from a crouched position, then moving closer to Gibbs. "This guy was shot in the back. I'd have to guess he was running away, he seems to be unarmed, but we'll know more once Ducky takes a look at him." Gibbs walked away from Tony, still listening to him, as he looked at the ground, discovering an object; what Tony guessed was a shell casing. Gibbs pulled a marker out of his pocket to tag the evidence then started back towards him.
"We'll call for backup to finish canvassing the area so we can get it done quick...What's that?"
"Huh?"
Gibbs broke Tony from his concentration, impatient. "There." Gibbs pointed towards Tony's side, his brows knit, tightly together. Tony followed Gibbs' gaze to the magazine he had forgotten about, tucked into his back pocket.
"Oh, yeah! I found this in the room where McGee was kept. It would seem someone was watching him, maybe reading to past the time while keeping an eye on Tim so he couldn't get away. I found what looks to be some kind of message.." Tony was already frantically leafing through the pages becoming frustrated when he couldn't find the message right away.
Did I imagine it? Tony thought to himself. Dammit. Where is it... near that picture of that girl in the purple bathing suit-
"Take it easy,Tony,don't rip the pages."
Tony's grim expression, lightened, "Oh, here it is... Blue bathing suit." He smiled. He held it up as he read it out loud. "moveing to the comander"
"Crevits' father is a commander!" Ziva closed the phone then joined them, quickly moving her face to within inches of the magazine to meticulously scrutinize the scrawled message. "That is not McGee's writing. I think this person's writing skills are bad, yes?" She faced Gibbs with a humble expression, her eyes questioning.
Gibbs offered Ziva an endearing, crooked smile then ran his sights over the yard, sighing. "I suppose, but I think we get the message."
"Knowing Tim, if he was stuck in the same room with this guy for all that time he has been...missing, working those puppy dog eyes of his, it's more than likely he got to him, causing this guy a change of heart...he might just be looking out for our little Timmy." Said Tony, smugly, seeming proud of his fellow, younger agent.
Gibbs eyed Tony, hesitating, "You okay, DiNozzo?"
"Uh, yeah...why?"
"I dunno, sounds like your getting... sentimental."
"I just know how Tim can tug on your heartstrings without even knowing it."
"Well...I hope you're right and that's the case. There must be a reason Fred wants Tim alive if this guy was shot down." Gibbs adjusted his cap,squinting against the bright sun."
"He may have researched McGee and learned of his hacking skills. I'm sure he'd love to exploit them before...uh, I mean-"
"Maybe, DiNozzo, except it's not Fred who's behind this, now." Gibbs mumbled as he took reassurance in Tony's last sentence finding a new, glimmer of hope to feed off of. "Tim's hacking skills may have bought us some more time, since it would seem some people consider him a prized commodity-"
"You don't believe Fred is the mastermind behind this boss?" Asked Tony.
"I believe that message proves that, he isn't," answered Ziva. "-informing us to believe that his father is involved. I do not believe Fred would have even considered to research Tim's computer skills or that he even cares that he works for NCIS."
"But,how could his father be involved, he just sold him out over some lousy credit cards. The commander has a spotless record."
"That means nothing...I considered him an awful man. Swearing as he ranted and raved on and on...he was very rude within our presence, we were merely trying to help and do our job but he was not at all kind." Ziva huffed in disgust.
"So, you'e saying daddy's going to fix things and make everything all better?" Tony asked Ziva, sarcastically.
"Well,I wouldn't word it quite like that, but, I bet he has a plan of some kind for Tim. Crevits may be seeing dollar signs right now or would like access to some security codes McGee might have knowledge of."
"I think Ziva's right." Said Gibbs.
Ziva changed the subject, holding up the bag containing Tim's wrist band to Gibbs, "I, uh, know Abby will need to analyze the blood found on this, to confirm my findings but, I found this in the room Tim was kept in, and I know it belongs to him-"
"How do you know it's his?"
"Well...I gave it to him him after we returned from Somalia. I believe he may have left it behind..to quicken the process...you know, to save us time, his way of telling us he was here."
Gibbs held the bag to get a closer look,noticing the traces of blood on the inside of the bag, frowning. "How hurt is he?" Gibbs whispered to himself. He nodded, acknowledging her with a sense of understanding and compassion. "All right, I think you're right Ziver." He looked into the distance as he contemplated their evidence. "We need to get this place, processed and stop off and see Crevits at his home-"
"Shouldn't we just haul him in for questioning, boss?" Tony looked at Gibbs puzzled.
"I want to see if we see anything at his house that reaches out and grabs us. You know, how he acts and so on. If they took Tim there, it was very recent and we may see something. We should know if McGee is there. Meanwhile...Ducky can id this guy and we can work on getting a search warrant."
Ziva walked over to the shell casing that Gibbs had located minutes ago, bagging it. She tried to ignore the pounding in her chest. When she had seen how similar the dead man's physical aspects were to Tim's, and how distraught Tony appeared, kneeling, by his side, she thought she would collapse from the reality of losing him. This whole atrocity McCadden pulled had gotten way out of hand. She had been sure they would have found Tim, here and alive. Her hands still shook as she dropped the shell casing into the bag as she stole glimpses of the other bag she held holding the band she had given Tim. She reassured herself, that when they found him, she would get him a new wristband. She would then have a talk with Tim and reveal the feelings she had been hiding from him then do her best to make it up to him. She then prayed she would get the chance.
xxxxx
Mike sat, tense and in fear, on the passenger's side of the moving car, denying the desire to look in the rear view mirror to check Tim's condition. He hadn't heard a sound from the back within the last ten minutes but knew that he was sprawled out over the seat, unconscious. At least, that was what Mike hoped, and he was not dead after what Fred had done to him.
FLASHBACK
Fred and Mike were carrying Tim out to the car and Fred had just gotten finished answering Mike, telling him that the rest of the gang was gone. Mike had no clear idea what gone meant, then quickly recalled the gunshot he and Tim had heard earlier from inside the house. As soon as the words left Fred's lips, Tim arched and twisted his body to free himself from Fred's grasp, while catching him off guard. Mike had deliberately let go of Tim's feet, unsure what he should do next, shocked that Tim would even think of attempting such a feat with his hands still tied behind his back.
Tim had made an attentive effort to fall on his side when he was released so he would not land squarely on his tied wrists but nevertheless, screamed out in pain as he violently jarred his right shoulder, instead. Tim produced a large, cloud of dust from the dry, dirt of the driveway as he squirmed and crab crawled, without the use of his arms to make distance from Fred. He worked his way to the car, leaning against it for leverage to boost himself up. Since, Fred had his full-attention on Tim, Mike saw it as an opportunity to charge Fred with hopes of taking him down.
He closed his eyes, imagining himself, a mac truck, driving full speed, as he ran towards the man. He was stunned when he did not collide with Fred, but instead tripped over his own two feet, falling face first into the gritty dirt. He felt his face warm as he stood, spitting out a bit of mud. He looked just in time to see Fred run into the parked car, missing Tim by inches when he dodged out of the way. Fred's temper flared as he rubbed his arm in pain, "Get'm!"
Tim took advantage of Fred's hesitance, by sweeping his legs, taking him down, hard. As soon as Fred fell to the ground Tim kicked him in the head, then almost fell back, losing his balance. Just as Tim was about to execute another kick, Fred raised his weapon and fired, shooting Tim in the upper arm. Tim reeled from the impact, staggering, then weakly falling back, to the ground. "Damn, I wasn't suppose to shoot him, look what you made me do!"
Fred gained control, standing over Tim with the gun aimed at him as Tim writhed on the ground in pain. "Get in the car...Mike!"
Mike felt the blood drain from the top of his head to his feet, hearing the evidence of Fred's revealed knowledge. Dammit, he had heard us. Mike stood there frozen. Fred cocked the gun, still aiming it at Tim so Mike ran to the passenger side of the car, frantically trying to work the door handle, then getting in. He looked over his shoulder, through the back window watching Fred kick Tim while he was still on the ground, as he winced with each thrust Fred carried out. When Fred had stopped, he managed to drag Tim to the back of the car, carelessly depositing him into the back.
"Wait till dad hears about this!" Fred adjusted the rear view mirror once he entered and floored it as Mike dropped his head back on the seat, exhaling with a sickening dread.