So sorry for the long wait- life got in the way. Enjoy! x

Jenny's heart was beating so fast she was surprised the man standing behind her couldn't hear it. The barrel of the gun was uncomfortable where it pressed against her skin, and it seemed ridiculous that in her ear she could still hear the chatter of various people as they carried out search warrants, could still see them moving about on screen, completely oblivious to what was happening to the woman whose voice they'd been listening to for the past hour.

"Take the earpiece out. Slowly."

Jenny was pleased that as she did so, her hand was steady. No one would realise what was going on, she knew. They would have no reason to. The action was more or less over, no one would think it odd if she went silent for a long time, and no one would have much reason to try and contact her. Not even the three agents currently bickering about directions- they would all simply do their jobs, assuming she was watching as she was supposed to be.

She wasn't even surprised when she was drawn away from the desk, guided to sit on the sofa. "You know, I recognised you that morning in the café," McKidd commented, gun aimed at her as he studied the photos scattered on the table. The ones that showed the wife he had killed, the boat he had destroyed. "I couldn't remember from where, at the time. Thought maybe you were a one night stand, or a dancer at a club."

Jenny stayed silent. She wouldn't be able to make it to the front door, she judged. Not when that involved having to go around the sofa, and McKidd would have a line of sight the entire time. She might be able to rush him and take the gun, but he'd been a marine, and she was barely recovered from severe injuries. She didn't like her chances.

"Tell me something, Jenny. I can call you Jenny?" He didn't even look at her, but somehow Jenny knew he was aware of her every move. "Did you and those other agents really think I wouldn't notice you watching me?"

She froze.

"The agents parked on the road above my villa, the cars trailing me wherever I went. You recognised me at the coffee shop too, didn't you? And raised the alarm." He smiled at her, almost pleasantly as he brought over a chair to just in front of her and straddled it, resting his chin on the back. "It's been making my life quite difficult. Not impossible, but difficult."

"How could you do it?" She was thrilled her voice was calm, unshaken. "How could you sell weapons to those people knowing what they were doing with them? And why bother? You'd gotten away, why take the risk?"

Instead of being irritated, he looked almost pleased that she'd asked. "A retirement plan," he said simply.

"What?"

"I had enough to live comfortably. But I didn't want comfortable. I wanted more than that."

"So you sold weapons to terrorists."

He merely shrugged.

"You don't feel the slightest bit guilty?" she questioned incredulously. "Men you would have once called your brothers are being killed by those weapons! How can you not feel any responsibility?"

It was the wrong this to say. His entire expression darkened, his fingers tightened around the gun. "They are not my brothers," he said lowly, pointing the gun for emphasis. "The navy lied to me. I wanted to be someone, to do something important. I signed up for that reason. And what do I get? Stuck on some God-forsaken base, doing menial work for no pay. Just a cog in the machine."

"The navy isn't about being a hero. It's about serving your country, doing good."

McKidd just smiled. "Well, you would say that, wouldn't you?"

Quick as a flash he was on his feet, and yanking her by the arm to hers. "You're going to cancel the alerts on me," he told her. "I have a plane to catch, and I don't want any delays."

"What alerts?"

His hand tightened painfully, squeezing. "Don't play games with me, Agent Shepard. You will not like the consequences."

She hid her gasp of pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "I can't cancel them."

She wasn't expecting the swing of his arm, the explosion of pain across her jaw as the butt of his gun made contact. He didn't bother to hold her upright and the blow sent her sprawling to the ground, dazed as waves of pain rippled over her. She remained where she'd fallen, struggling to breathe through the haze, fighting off flashes of sand and shouts in Arabic while the pain dulled to a manageable level.

"I believe I said no games."

Jenny's head throbbed. "I can't," she repeated, wincing when the movement sent more pain flashing through her. "I don't have the authority."

"Then we have a problem."

She really didn't like the expression that was now on his face.

Jenny wasn't at all surprised when she fairly suddenly found herself with her wrists bound behind her, perched on the chair recently vacated by McKidd. He paced the room in front of her, expression dark and gun clenched tightly in his hand. "I would have been fine. Another day, I'd have been gone, with no one the wiser."

Despite Jenny's situation, his words were a relief. Because it meant she'd made the right call. Serving the warrants today had been the right decision, waiting any longer would have been catastrophic. She only hoped she managed to gloat to Jethro in person.

She looked up at him, took a deep breath. "Why did you kill Mara?"

"What?"

"Mara, your wife. What did killing her achieve?"

For a long moment, he just looked at her. "She lost her nerve. That made her a liability."

"So you burnt her alive."

Her voice was undeniably accusing, but he didn't take offence. He just smiled. "I did," he agreed, and bent down closer to her. "And she was my wife. What do you think I'm going to do to you?"

The instinctive shudder that ran through her only made him smirk. The ties were digging into her wrists, her heart was thumping far faster than it would have been if this situation had been two months ago, before Cairo. And Jenny couldn't think of a way out of this, not one that didn't involve her becoming uncomfortably acquainted with a bullet.

McKidd studied the images on screen with a discerning eye, tapping the barrel of his gun against his chin. "I need a way off this island. Your agency is going to give it to me."

"And why would they do that?"

He smiled again, a slow, oily smile that made Jenny's skin crawl. "Because otherwise the image of you bleeding to death from a thousand cuts will be broadcast on every news channel from here to the US."

Jenny inhaled sharply.

He was mad. He had to be. Nobody sane came up with a plan like that. She shook her head at him, not even sure what she was hoping to accomplish anymore. "It won't work. It could never work."

"And why is that?"

Her eyes flashed, voice defiant and scathing. "Because we do not negotiate with terrorists."

He laughed. He actually had the audacity to laugh at her. "I'm a terrorist now?"

"You sell weapons to them. It's the same thing."

Apparently, that had an effect because he paused, apparently considering her words. Jenny used to time to wriggle, hoping she could bend her wrist to reach the knife hidden in her belt. She couldn't quite get the angle, her fingers occasionally brushing it but never able to find purchase.

"I am not going to prison!" McKidd wheeled around, and his hand slammed again her throat. Her shocked gasp was cut off halfway through, her throat constricted under his grip.

"You are going to get me off this island." He squeezed even tighter, and Jenny knew the panic she felt was clearly displayed on her face. She couldn't bring herself to care. She twisted her body, trying desperately to loosen his grip and he smirked, fingers digging into her throat. "Problem?"

Jenny's vision began to blur and grey around the edges, the pain in her wrists from pulling against the tie barely noticeable when compared to the way her lungs were screaming. She was going to die here. Alone and frightened, she was going to die without even the chance to fight back.

The pressure around her neck loosened. Jenny gasped, sucking in air even as her throat protested, sore and bruised. But McKidd didn't take his hand away, leaving it resting there and Jenny knew this game. Knew that in a moment, before she had time to fully recover his grip would tighten again, cutting off her air once more.

"I'll help you!"

Her voice was raspy and cracked, but had the intended affect. McKidd paused, eyes narrowed as he stared at her. "That was quick."

Adrenaline had Jenny's heart thumping in her ears. She tried to swallow, hoping the pain that caused wouldn't last as she glared at the man in front of her. "You want my help or not?"

His response was to tighten his fingers again. Not as much, not entirely cutting off her airway but enough that her eyes widened in panic. "Just remember," he said lowly. "I could do things to you that make this look a gentle caress."

Jenny didn't want to be scared. But she was.

She had no choice but to acquiesce when McKidd roughly pulled her to her feet, and led her outside. No choice but to stay quiet, not his gun was pressed against her back, his arm wrapped around her and keeping her close to him. There were people around them, innocent people and she didn't dare even look at any of them, too afraid one would be drawn in and end up hurt.

A few houses down, there lived a family- three generations, the youngest of which was a little girl with pigtails and a skipping rope, who waved to Jenny each time she saw her. She was out now, counting aloud as she skipped, and Jenny felt her heartrate rocket. She had never prayed so hard that she would go unnoticed. That the girl would be too engrossed in her game to look up, to see her and cross the street to chat.

There was no such luck. She looked up and beamed, but Jenny thanked every deity in existence that she continued to skip, showing no signs of stopping. She managed a weak smile in return, but without warning, McKidd wrenched her arm and she stumbled, held upright only by his grip. "Pretty little thing," he murmured into her ear. "It would be a shame if something happened to her."

"Don't. I'm not fighting you."

"Lucky for her."

The battered old car that was waiting for them was a million miles from the pretty sports car that McKidd had been driving around before, and getting into it went against every instinct Jenny had. It was practically a universally known rule, after all- being taken to a second location was bad. But she had no choice, the gun firmly against her as she was pushed into the passenger seat, McKidd rounded the car too quickly for her to do more than shift her weight more evenly.

No one would ever realise it was him driving. He adhered to the speed limits, cautiously obeying traffic laws, careful not to draw the slightest attention to himself. A complete opposite to how he'd driven before. It only dampened Jenny's hopes further. Even if anyone miraculously realised she was missing, they would never track her now.

Positioned as she was with her hands still bound behind her, sitting was excruciating. Her wrists were screaming, her jaw aching. The jacket McKidd had thrown over her shoulders to hide the fact she was bound had zips and buttons that were now digging into her shoulders, and the way her head pounded made her wonder if she'd gained a concussion from hitting the floor as hard as she had. She wasn't it great shape, she could admit. But she had a single, desperately faint hope. At her side, where the seatbelt had shifted, she could feel her knife still secured, missed by McKidd when he'd searched for weapons. She just had to pray she found the opportunity to use it.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe. And then you're going to tell me how you're getting me out of here."

That, Jenny thought, was a good question. She closed her eyes tightly, swallowed back the lump in her throat and did her best to pretend that her eyes weren't burning. Find me, Jethro.

NCIS

A murdering weapons dealer hiding out in an abandoned building in a desolate part of town was a cliché. Then again, it was probably a cliché for a reason. Not a single person had been around to see McKidd drag Jenny from the car, to hear her cry of pain when he purposefully yanked on the binds around her wrist. He shoved her into a chair he dragged to the centre of the large room, far away from anything she could have used against him, before he crossed to a large metal locker and began to rifle through it. From what Jenny could see, it was filled with cases and boxes that could contain anything from spare clothes to very pricey weapons.

She wished she could get her hands on just one. That would certainly put a wrench in McKidd's plans.

But she had her knife. If she could ever manage to reach it, but that would require bending and contorting in a way that would be all too obvious should McKidd decide to glance over at her. No, she would wait, and hope he left her alone for long enough that she could reach it.

"Since you're going to kill me anyway," she started, voice louder than usual to make sure he heard. It was rough, still hoarse from where he'd strangled her. "Could you settle something for me?"

McKidd glanced at her curiously. "What's that?"

"Did you have an accomplice? Someone who helped you?"

He looked amused, pausing in his search to move closer to her. "Why would you think that?"

"I didn't." She shrugged. "My boss did. It was quite the source of disagreement amongst our team. So… did you?"

He studied her for a long moment, before shrugging slightly. "No. No one who knew they were helping me, anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"I borrowed a few access codes, told a few white lies so that people would help me. Humans are very easily manipulated."

Jenny's eyes narrowed. "The boat. Someone picked you up out of the water?"

He chuckled. "I was in the navy."

"You were miles out to sea."

"Clever girl." His fingers caressed her jaw, pushing harder against the bruise already formed there. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of wincing, but damn it hurt. He tipped his head, allowed his hand to fall away. "I did swim, some distance. I had left a boat anchored, set up to look like someone was line fishing. And there I stayed, for an entire week. By the time I returned to land, NCIS had long stopped nosing around the harbour."

Jenny could have cursed. It was so simple. But that was why it had worked, she supposed. A twist of fate, a different gut feeling… this could have all been very different.

"And the money? Where did you hide it?"

"You would be amazed at what a well-paid computer geek can do." He patted her cheek gently, before he straightened, pulling out a set of zip ties from his pocket. "Now hold still."

With deliberate, deft movements, he secured Jenny to the chair, ties wound around her existing binds and then to the metal frame, while each of her ankles was secured to a leg. Not ideal, but there was some wiggle room- she tugged her wrists experimentally when he turned his back, felt the slight give. She could only hope it would be enough.

She couldn't help but flinch back automatically when he approached her with the roll of duct tape, and he laughed. "There isn't anyone round to hear you," he commented, tearing a strip off with his teeth. "But all the same... I didn't get this far by leaving things to chance."

"No, don't-!" She was cut off by the tape landing over her mouth, McKidd pushing excessively hard to stick it in place. Jenny fought down the shudder, the instinctive panic. This wasn't Cairo. This wasn't a quest for information.

The adrenaline coursing through her said otherwise, though. McKidd patted her cheek as if she were a child, straightening and walking away. "I will be right back. Don't go anywhere!"

He was chuckling to himself as she watched him walk away, to another door, and every instinct was screaming at her. Something wasn't right here. Why would he leave her alone? His footsteps faded away, and she tried to listen for more noise but all she could hear was the sound of her own ragged breathing and the rush of blood in her ears.

Jenny closed her eyes. Fought away the memories, the flashback. Tried to focus on anything else. An escape, that was a good distraction. In an ideal world, she would be able to get a message to someone. That wasn't going to happen, however. Her own phone was back at the house, and she'd seen no sign that McKidd even had one. The likelihood of there being another working phone around here was next to zero, so that left her.

If she could get her wrists free, McKidd would likely wander into striking distance at some point- he'd done so multiple times already. The problem with that was there was no guarantee she would be able to free herself before he returned and demanded to know her plan for his escape.

And then there was the fact that her gut was still yelling at her. She opened her eyes, steadier now, and studied the room around her. A scattering of metal tables and chairs, a few boxes and crates here and there. But the prickling at the back of her neck had her twisting in her seat the best she could, searching. There was nothing much of interest, save for a large window at the very end of the space, set into the wall. She couldn't see through, the room beyond it in darkness. But she would bet anything that McKidd was on the other side, watching her.

She twisted back around, and exhaled with deliberate slowness. A good thing she hadn't tried for her knife as soon as he'd left then.

The room was cold, or at least it felt that way. Jenny was glad- it was a world away from the heat of the desert, the memories of which were beginning to become harder and harder to push away. She closed her eyes again, focused on breathing, trying to pretend her entire body wasn't tense and panicked.

One breath. She was alive.

Two breaths. This wasn't completely hopeless.

Three breaths. She'd been in worse situations.

Four breaths. This wasn't Cairo.

Five breaths. If McKidd killed her, would they ever find her?

Six- wait, no. She was supposed to be thinking positively. Start again.

One breath. Two breaths.

She had made it to fifty before she heard the door reopen. McKidd's expression was impossible to read as he stood a little way away from her, apparently studying her intently. She tried to be calm as she looked back at him, but knew her breathing was just a little too fast for that.

"So," he said, almost casually. "How am I getting off this island?"

Jenny stared at him. Wondered if he was expecting her to answer through the tape on her mouth.

She got her answer a second later, when he stepped forward and tore the tape away. She inhaled sharply at the fresh wave of pain, but his hand grasping at her jaw didn't give her much of a chance to process it.

"Come on then, Special Agent." He sounded out the words with an odd inflection, barely concealing his distaste. "What's your big plan?"

She swallowed harshly. "A private plane will make it to the mainland. They're less vetted than commercial flights."

His lips twisted. "Can you fly a plane?" he enquired. "Because I certainly can't."

"You have enough money to pay a pilot for their services and their silence."

"NCIS will already have frozen my assets."

Her eyes flashed in challenge. "We both know you have more than we've found."

It had the possibility of enraging him- instead, that seemed to amuse him. "You're quick on your feet, I'll give you that."

He was walking away from her again before she'd blinked. "Unfortunately for you," he continued, "I already have a plan, and it doesn't involve private planes."

What? Jenny eyed him warily as he returned to the same storage locker as when they'd first arrived. "Then why am I here?"

"Insurance." He turned, and perhaps it was too much like a bad horror movie for the light to glint off of the gun in his hand, but Jenny would have sworn that's exactly what happened. "If they are looking for you, then they're not looking for me."

"They'll look for both." Her voice was shaky, there was no hiding it.

"Together, yes," he agreed. "But they will not be searching for me alone."

He was right. Jenny felt the blood drain from her face at the realisation. Once they found Jenny was missing, they would assume McKidd and she were together, that he had kept her as leverage. The search for McKidd alone would be diverted, the cracks widening just enough for him to slip through.

"You were always planning this, weren't you?"

He merely smiled at her.

"Then why am I still alive?" Her voice rose, anger beginning to show for the first time. "Why not kill me before?"

"Are you complaining?"

"This is all just a game to you, isn't it?"

He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Not at all. I take my life and my survival very seriously."

He turned around, reaching for a box in the cupboard and Jenny took the chance. She twisted, shifted her hips and pulled her wrist as hard as she could. Her fingertips just brushed the handle of the knife hidden in her belt. McKidd still had his back to her, concentrating on her box and Jenny pulled against the zip ties harder, tears springing to her eyes as the plastic cut into her wrist and something definitely crunched.

When McKidd turned around, Jenny was expressionless, back centred in the chair and perfectly still. And so he had no idea that hidden behind her, her knife was cradled in her hand.