Chapter Six

Talk to Me, Goose

I went broke believing
That the simple should be hard

All We Are, Matt Nathanson s5e2 Family

Gibbs heard the sharp pop of gunfire as he simultaneously watched his Senior Field Agent leap through the air like Superman, tackling Ms. Benoit to the ground. It all happened in the blink of an eye that seemed to stretch into eternity. Senses heightened, colors became brighter, noises more distinct – but there was nothing Gibbs could do to stop it.

As Tony and Jeanne landed in a bone-rattling heap, more screams of panic erupted across the ballroom – terrified hostages again trying to scramble away from the violence.

"You idiot! You've shot a Fed. There is no way out of this now," Mustafa yelled, looking as panicked as the hostages.

Gibbs vision tunneled, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched Tony go down, unable to tear his eyes away. He'd promised his SFA that he'd have his six, and he'd failed.

Again.

Kate's tragic death on that rooftop nearly three years ago still haunted him, even after her killer had been exterminated. It swirled and blended with the heavy black coils of guilt that already consumed his soul, blocking out the light and preventing him from sleeping more than a few hours at any given time. He really didn't think he had enough left in him to go through it again.

After all the trouble and heartache Jeanne had brought by accusing Tony of murdering her father, Gibbs had promised his second that he'd unfailingly have his six when it came to that woman. She'd now been back in his life for a little less than two hours, and he lay bleeding on the floor – physically bleeding this time, not just emotionally.

Gibbs feet moved without conscious thought toward his fallen agent, but Brad Pitt reached him first. He rolled Tony off a trapped Jeanne, supporting his head as he rested his back on the floor. A large splotch of blood stained Tony's shirt from a neck wound. His eyes were closed, his battered face lacking its usual animation.

Jeanne scrambled up once Tony's weight was removed, her shoulder also covered in blood and her hair in disarray. Brad pressed his hands to Tony's wound, and Jeanne lay her own hand on top, giving added pressure. Using her other shaking hand, she reached for a pulse point on the uninjured side of Tony's neck.

Gibbs watched her entire body sag in relief, so he knew she'd found one. This was enough for his paralyzing fear to recede, and his anger to take over. He reached out, grabbing her around her upper arm and pulling her away from Tony.

"Don't. You. Touch him," he snarled.

Jeanne turned startled eyes upon him, but they quickly narrowed in anger. "Unless you have a medical degree that can help him, get your damn hands off of me."

"Brad can help him. You back off," Gibbs said, unyielding. She'd done enough harm already.

Brad ignored the drama, as he kept firm pressure on Tony's wound. "I don't know what the problem is, and I really don't care right now, but I'm an Infectious Disease Specialist, Gibbs. She has more experience in trauma, and I could use the help," he said, never even looking up as he struggled to control the bleeding. His hands were stained crimson, yet the blood continued to puddle on the floor.

Jeanne jerked her arm away from Gibbs hold and returned her attention to Tony. "We need something to put more pressure on this," she said, her eyes scanning the room. "All the table cloths are too dirty. Give me your jacket," she demanded, looking at Gibbs.

Gibbs didn't want to take orders from her, but the bite in her tone revealed her urgency. He removed his jacket and handed it over. She bunched it up, and Brad quickly removed his hands allowing her to stuff it up next to Tony's heavily bleeding wound. Brad pressed down on it again, his eyes finally taking in Jeanne's bloody clothing.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Blood's not mine. He pushed me out of the way," she said, troubled.

"Yeah, he tends to that." Gibbs said through gritted teeth. He didn't want her anywhere near Tony, but they had bigger problems at the moment.

The three terrorists were still arguing amongst themselves, but they'd switched from English to Kurdish again, so he didn't know what was going on. Ziva was keeping an eye on them. The hostages were spread widely around the room now, watching the two fallen victims with wide, terrified eyes.

Zeki Aras had stopped screaming and lay motionless on the floor. He was too far away to check if he was still alive. As of yet, the FBI hadn't stormed in, but it was only a matter of time.

Gibbs looked back at DiNozzo who remained unconscious while Brad and Jeanne worked frantically to stop the bleeding. Resigned, Gibbs reached over and pulled back the collar of DiNozzo's shirt. He could see the Kevlar vest he wore underneath, but the bullet had hit just above it, where it had most likely pulled away when he dove to rescue Jeanne.

If DiNozzo hadn't already been unconscious, Gibbs would've smacked him. Although in all practicality, he'd have probably done the same thing were the situation reversed. He knew that he only had a few mere moments before one of the terrorists came over to their position, so he leaned over, shielding his hands from view and removed DiNozzo's ear wig, quickly tucking it up the sleeve of his own shirt.

He wouldn't be able to hear McGee unless he had the opportunity to discreetly insert it, but at least McGee would still have ears on the room.

"Gibbs, they are beginning to turn on each other," Ziva said, her voice low and tense.

"Just keep your eye on them. How is he, Doc?" he asked, directing his question to Brad.

"He's hanging in there, but there's a lot of blood. I think the bullet was deflected by his clavicle, but there's no way to tell if it's broken without an X-ray," Brad said.

Gibbs winced, knowing full well how painful a collar bone injury could be.

Despite the fact he'd been trying to ignore her, Jeanne directed her concern to him. "The bigger risk is that I can't see or feel the bullet to get it out. If it travels downward, it's dangerously close to his heart," she said, tapping Tony on his face to try and bring him around. "Come on, talk to me, Goose."

Tony winced, and his eyes fluttered open. "Top… Gun," he gasped, "Really?"

Jeanne chuckled weakly. "Knew that would get you. Don't move around too much, okay? We don't know where the bullet is, and we don't want it moving," she said.

Tony groaned a little, so Gibbs knew he was in a lot of pain, but he was in good hands. He turned his attention back to Ziva, moving away from the group huddled on the floor. As he did, he noticed a small group of hostages hiding behind one of the large pillars at the top of the room.

"Why are you allowing her to tend to him?" Ziva asked, hissing. Her eyes were fixed on the terrorists but her entire body was thrumming with anger.

"She's a doctor," he replied, also watching the armed men.

"This entire room is filled with doctors. Let one of them do it," Ziva snarled.

Despite the fact she was echoing his own feelings, he knew where their attention had to remain. "Ziva, our only concern is getting these people out of here alive. Focus on that," he replied.

"And once that happens, then you will get her away from him?" she asked, persistent as always. "It did not end well for him the last time."

"Why have the FBI been so silent? They must've heard the shot," he said.

"I do not know. Tony has the ear wig," Ziva said stiffly.

Gibbs clutched his fingers around his sleeve, feeling the little device settle somewhere around his elbow. "No, I do. Ears only. Hostages are now scattered around the room, terrorists huddled by the kitchen door arguing. One diplomat hit, likely dead though not confirmed, one hostage confirmed dead. One agent down but alive, another hostage hit in the leg but holding his own," he said, giving McGee a sitrep.

"There are still entirely too many people in this room to watch them all," Ziva said, her frustration bleeding into her words.

"True, but that only means the terrorists can't have eyes on them all, either," he said. "I'm going to try and distract them by encouraging them to release a few more of the hostages. While I'm speaking, motion to that group huddled behind the column to get out the main door. It's still cracked open after the last group left."

"That is risky, Gibbs," Ziva said, eyes wide and contemplative.

"I know, but we're running out of time," he replied, standing up and walking toward the kitchen door. He was aware the eyes of many hostages were watching his progress and felt the tension in the room building again. The terrorists noticed him, breaking apart from their heated discussion.

"You there, stop, or I'll shoot," Hamza said, snarling. He was sweating and his eyes were dilated.

"You don't want to do that. You've already got attempted murder of one Federal agent on your hands," he said, slowing down but still inching toward the kitchen door.

"So, another won't matter," Hamza said.

"I think it matters to your men. You need a way out of here, and I think I can give it to you," Gibbs said.

He'd maneuvered his body enough that he now had his back to the kitchen door, and the terrorists were all facing him, looking away from Ziva and the hostages near the main door. He trusted her to do her job, so he kept his focus on the terrorists.

"The FBI operatives on the other side of this door are going to come in here eventually, and I don't think they're going to be looking for prisoners. They've heard gunfire, so they're getting antsy. You need to let some of the hostages go. It'll buy you more bargaining time," he said.

"No. I already told you. No one else leaves," Hamza said, although both Mustafa and Emir shifted restlessly.

"I know you said that, but there are too many people here for your men to handle. There are only two of them," Gibbs said, letting his eyes meet those of the other two terrorists.

"And now there are only two Feds, so it's too many for you to protect, as well," Hamza said, triumphant.

Gibbs shrugged. "Well, yeah… but I'm counting on the FBI to back me up."

"He is right. We need to let the women go," Mustafa said, breathing heavily.

"Shut up. He is tricking you," Hamza snarled.

"No, I'm telling you the truth," Gibbs said.

"You are not the only one making decisions, Hamza. They will be easier to control with a smaller number. Let the woman go, all except the Fed and the doctor working with them," Emir said.

"Shut up, Emir. You are the one who shot the Fed and created this problem in the first place," Hamza said.

Emir's eyes flashed, and he stepped right up to Hamza. "No, you did that when you killed Zeki Aras."

Hamza shrugged, curling his lip. "We are going to die, anyway."

"It doesn't have to be that way. Show them your open to negotiate. That's all you have to do," Gibbs said, lifting one shoulder casually.

"And spend the rest of our lives in an American prison, or worse, Gitmo? I don't think so," Hamza said.

"It's not your choice alone. If you want out, I can take you out, but I'd prefer to leave alive," Emir said.

"We need to do something," Mustafa said, shifting his weight so he was standing closer to Emir.

Hamza's deadened eyes studied them both closely. "All right. Gather the women and send them out, but that's it. The rest stay," he said.

"You should send the wounded out with them. You don't want any more murder charges if they don't make it," Gibbs said.

"No! They got what they deserved and are better bargaining tools. Just the women," Hamza said firmly.

Mustafa and Emir moved to start gathering the remaining women, but Hamza didn't follow. Instead, he approached Gibbs, who didn't blink or look away.

"I see what you are doing, trying to turn my men against me. When the FBI comes in, I will double tap your head," he said, eyes boring into Gibbs'.

Gibbs stepped closer, right into Hamza's personal space, keeping their eyes locked. "You do that – unless one of your own people shoots you first. I'm only gonna tell you this once. If my agent bleeds out before you let him out of here, I'll follow you into hell to see that you die twice," he said fiercely.

"Go sit back with your agent but remember, I am watching you," Hamza said.

Gibbs walked away, his body tense and ready as he put his back to the terrorist. Emir was on the other side of the room near Ziva and the others. Gibbs kept his eyes on Emir's, hoping he'd get a warning from the man's expression if Hamza took aim. He completed the long walk across the length of the room unharmed, however.

He crouched down next to where Brad and Jeanne were tending Tony. They'd also put Jeanne's companion, Mark to work checking Tony's pulse. Gibbs looked over at Ziva who nodded minutely. He then allowed his eyes to scan the rest of the room, noting that the area behind the pillar was now empty. The four hostages that had been huddled there must've made it out unseen.

"How ya doin, DiNozzo?" he asked.

"M'okay," Tony responded, panting. His eyes only revealed small slits of green, and his color was exceedingly pale.

"Of course, you are," Gibbs replied, rolling his eyes. He almost wished DiNozzo would've complained how much it hurt like he did whenever he had a minor injury. The fact he wasn't up to an act wasn't a good sign.

"His heart race is accelerated, and I'd wager his blood pressure is dropping. He needs proper medical care. More than we are capable of in here," Mark said.

"Well, that's not possible right now, Dr. Korhonen, so we do what we can until that is possible," Brad said bitingly.

"He will go into shock if we cannot keep him warm," Mark said, sounding somewhat indifferent. "It seems inevitable, anyway."

Jeanne pulled her bloody suit jacket off and rested it on top of Tony's chest. It looked tiny against his much larger frame.

"We are sending the women out," Emir said loudly, careful to keep his body behind his hostages as he ushered them toward the main door.

Gibbs was counting on the fact McGee had heard the whole thing and was waiting for them. A few of the doctors who were sitting close to the group huddled around Tony noticed what they were doing and began removing their own suit jackets, piling them on top of DiNozzo.

"You're doing great, Buckeye," Brad said, still keeping pressure on Tony's wound and nodding his thanks for the other doctors' aid.

"Liar," Tony said, his breathing labored.

"You wound me, DiNozzo. I've always been upfront with you. You know that," Brad said.

Despite his words, Gibbs could read the lines of tension around Brad's eyes, and even in his compromised state, he was sure DiNozzo could, as well.

"How is it you know Tony?" Jeanne asked, gently wiping some of the sweat off DiNozzo's brow.

Brad grinned. "It's a long story, trust me. I'll give you all the sordid details once we're out of here. How do you know him?" he asked.

Jeanne pressed her lip together, her expression pinched. "Trust me, it's a longer story, and I bet even more complicated that yours," she said.

"I doubt that," Brad replied, raising his eyebrows.

Tony, who was barely conscious, barked out what might pass as a laugh. "I know… both stories… and she's right."

"Well then, that's a story you need to tell me once we have you back in a hospital, where you'll stay in bed, and do as you're told," Brad said.

"Sure," Tony said, obviously fading.

Gibbs gut churned. He didn't like seeing DiNozzo in so much pain, but he couldn't focus on that now. He still had a job to do, and he knew Tony would understand. The fact Jeanne was there didn't seem to be distressing him, although Gibbs was certain there'd be fallout when it was all said and done. He had no intention of letting her hurt him again.

He reached over and squeezed Tony's shoulder on his good side, letting him know that he was there. Tony weakly leaned his head toward the pressure.

"Why did she not leave with the rest of the women?" Ziva asked, glaring with hostility at Jeanne.

"I could ask the same thing about you since you're obviously a woman and don't have any medical knowledge," Jeanne said coolly.

"I am a Federal agent and a valuable hostage," Ziva said.

Jeanne shrugged. "I guess they thought the same about me."

"You accused him of murder. Forgive me if I do not trust you with his life in your hands," Ziva said, sneering.

Brad's head whipped around. "You accused him of murder?" he asked, startled.

Jeanne averted her eyes, again wiping Tony's face.

"That's enough, both of you. Terrorists said you both had to stay, and we have bigger issues here. Ziva, Dr. Benoit is keeping Tony alive, and you'll allow her to do her job. I expect you to do yours," Gibbs said, his eyes boring into his agent. He didn't need a cat fight on top of everything else.

"Fine," Ziva said, her dark eyes burning.

Unlike most people, Jeanne Benoit hadn't appeared the least bit intimidated by Ziva, but perhaps she didn't know the woman was a trained assassin. She did believe Tony was a Professor during the entire course of their relationship.

Gibbs looked at a sullen Ziva. "I see our group made it out. Problems?" he asked.

"None. They speckled in the wind the moment they had the chance, and the other hostages did not notice them leave since they were behind the column. It will not be as easy if we try another group out in the open," Ziva said.

"Scattered," Gibbs said absently, feeling obligated to correct her idiom since DiNozzo was incapacitated.

"What?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"Scattered in the wind, not speckled," he replied.

Ziva rolled her eyes and let out a huff of impatience.

"There. You've let the women out and released a good number of our hostages. Are you happy now?" Hamza asked, sneering at Emir.

"The smaller number is easier to control, and we do have three Federal agents, as well," Emir said.

"And their weapons. I destroyed the communication devices, but I have their weapons," Mustafa said.

"What communication devices?" Emir asked, looking startled and causing Gibbs insides to clench. He'd hoped that error on Emir's part wouldn't come to light.

"You idiot!" Hamza yelled, striding across the room and heading directly for Tony. He knelt beside him, roughly jerking his head from side to side while examining his ears. Tony couldn't hide his groan of pain.

"Stop it! You're hurting him," Jeanne said, pushing Hamza's hands away and trying to block his access to Tony with her own body.

"Where is the earwig?" Hamza demanded, grabbing her arms and shaking her.

"The what?" Jeanne asked, clearly confused.

"What have you done with it?" Hamza asked, shaking her even harder.

"We don't know what you're talking about. We've been treating a neck wound," Brad said desperately.

"Didn't… have… one," Tony gasped, his breath coming out in sharp, staccato gasps. His eyes caught Gibbs pleadingly.

"You lie. Both the others had them," Hamza said, his eyes wild.

"We didn't all need them, but if you're so sure – did you check out in the hallway around your dead guy? They tend to pop out," Gibbs said. They did no such thing, but the terrorist didn't know that, and he wanted to direct Hamza's attention away from Tony and the doctors.

Hamza moved away from Jeanne and roughly grabbed Gibbs chin, forcing his head from side to side and examining his ears but finding them empty.

"Check her," he demanded, nodding toward Ziva, his rage growing.

Emir moved over to Ziva and checked her ears while Ziva glared at him. If looks could kill, the man would've died in agony.

"Empty your pockets," Hamza demanded of both of them.

"I don't have pockets. For reasons I cannot fathom, women's clothing is not made with them," Ziva said derisively.

Gibbs pulled out his keys and a few bills along with the lining of the pockets, showing that they were empty. It only infuriated Hamza.

He grabbed Gibbs around the throat, digging his fingers in. "I demand you tell me what you did with the device," he shouted.

Although he couldn't breathe, Gibbs calm, icy eyes met the flaming madness in Hamza's like a standoff in an old Western film.

Author's Note

Well, the good news is I didn't make you wait too long. Bad news is that this one sort of ends in another cliffy. Couldn't help it – that's where the muse took me. I'm going away for my son's graduation this weekend, but I'm going to try and get one more chapter posted before I go.

Melinda's NCIS Rule Number One: Always leave a comment – it keeps the author motivated. Thanks so much for all the responses – I really do enjoy reading them, and it always makes me want to write more.

To Cokeheller whom I couldn't respond – I prefer Tony and Gibbs to have a closer bond than we saw in later years of canon. That said, they're still going to bump heads a bit before the story is over.