“If you’ll come this way, Agents, we’ll get going.” The officer escorted the two agents to the vehicle that was going to take them away from relative safety.

“Is this that new vehicle I’ve read about, an MRAP?” Ziva asked, looking over the large armored vehicle.

“Yes, Ma’am, you couldn’t be safer than in a genuine Mine Resistant Ambush Protected type II vehicle. The Major meant it when he said he was responsible for your safety. Now climb aboard,” the Lt said.

Because they were going into an area which has seen enemy action the agents were dressed in full gear to include Kevlar vests, making the heat that much worse. They had been on the road for several hours. Actually, road was just wishful thinking. It was little more than a dry dirt path littered with stones and holes.

The sun was several hours over the horizon. Ziva took a small drink from her almost empty canteen, thinking about the cool bottles of water she would have in her car back in DC. She didn’t like to live in the past or dwell on the ‘what ifs’ but a drink of that cool water would sure be good now.

“We should be at our destination in twenty minutes, Agent.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” McGee said acknowledging the Marine’s statement. He settled back into the not very comfortable seat and let his mind wander to his lover. It was good seeing him, even if it was from a satellite transmission over thousands of miles and with other people within earshot. If his suspicions panned out, he and Ziva would be home in just a few days.

Thoughts of where he was going and what might happen wiped away any good thoughts that seeing Tony had brought him. Well, not all, never all when it came to Tony.

The MRAP pulled up to a military checkpoint and was waved through after Tim and Ziva showed their NCIS ID’s.
 

***
 

Abby was already at her computer, running the names McGee requested when Gibbs and DiNozzo arrived at work. So far, nothing spectacular had shown up on any of them.

“Keep looking, Abs. He wouldn’t have given us those names without a reason.”

“Yes, Gibbs, we’re already on it.” She indicated the computers, running the programs. “My guys are going as fast as they can. I have faith in them.”

Gibbs headed back upstairs, glad to find Tony at his desk and looking more rested than he had been when he last saw him.

Tony had slept well last night. Maybe it was seeing Tim on the large screen in MTAC and the message he left that showed he was unharmed and could still smile. Maybe it was the conversation with Gibbs. All he knew was that someone else was on his and Tim’s side, no matter what happened.

His thoughts were interrupted by the resident ME.

“Jethro, Anthony, I heard rumors that you were here already. Is there any word from Timothy or Ziva?”

“Hey, Ducky,” Tony answered. “We got to talk to them late last night in MTAC. They seemed okay then.”

Ducky heard the unspoken words. “But?” he asked.

“But they’re going into a bad situation, Duck. McGee seems to think it’s the only way they can prove that his suspicions are viable,” Gibbs added.

“Oh, dear,” he said absently patting Tony’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll be okay. You must have faith.”

Tony looked the doctor in the eyes. Ducky smiled and nodded at the younger man. ‘Yep, he knows,’ Tony thought and nodded back, mouthing a silent “thank you”.

Tony threw himself into his work. Jack Lafferty, the man whose name Petty Officer Klein had given him yesterday, apparently did not want to be found. The two agents went to his place of work, a greasy little diner in Dundalk. They found that he had failed to show up for work three days ago and the manager of his rundown apartment building said he hadn’t seen his tenant for as many days.

When they were back in the car, Gibbs called Abby to see if there was any news on the names McGee had her run, but there was nothing except the military records and basic personnel files. He was sure there was more to it. Abby assured him she was still looking but she wished McGee were here to speed things up.

Not having much else to go on and since neither one had eaten anything that morning they decided to stop for lunch. Lunch was a deli sandwich at Artie’s, not far from the Yard. Tony usually ordered a roast beef with Russian dressing on a submarine roll, but today he ordered a turkey with lettuce, tomato and black olives and just a little oil and vinegar on a whole wheat Kaiser Roll.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at his order. “Not your usual fare, DiNozzo.” He had seen McGee eat that very same turkey sandwich many times before.

They sat at a small table by the front window instead of taking their food back to the office. They were lucky the table was free as lunch time at Artie’s was always busy.

“You know, variety is the spice of life. At least that’s what they say.” Tony took a sip of his root beer and concentrated on his sandwich. “You know, this isn’t half bad,” he commented.

“Uh huh.”

Before they left the deli, they picked up a sandwich for Abby. Tony was surprised at the silence in the hallway outside Abby’s lab. When he entered, she had her back to the door working at the stainless steel table. A box holding evidence was open and plastic bags were spread out in a controlled Abby-like array.

Tony entered quietly and came up behind his favorite forensic tech, holding the sandwich bag up. He heard a sniffing sound. “Marinara meatballs, provolone,” the sniffing continued, “extra parmesan and black olives.” She turned and threw her arms around Tony’s neck. “My favorite; you went to Artie’s. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Tony.” She didn’t usually eat red meat, but an Artie’s meatball marinara was a special treat.

She took the bag and went into her office knowing Tony would follow. Once she was settled in her chair and her meatball sub was unwrapped and one bite taken she looked at Tony and asked, “Okay, now spill. What do you want me to do? It’s not McGee or Ziva, is it? I mean, they’re alright, right?”

“Abby, I’m not here because of our wandering duo and as of late last night they were very alright. Wow that rhymed.” He laughed, and then turned serious. “No, this is a cold case I need help with while you’re waiting for McGee’s information to come through.” He explained what he wanted.

He left Abby in the lab with her half eaten sandwich. He knew she was very capable of finding anything on the internet but Tony couldn’t help thinking about his lover’s computer skills. Having McGee here to run further computer searches would have been nice.

Having McGee here at all would have been nice, too.
 

***

The sun was setting over the barren, craggy hills and a slight breeze cooled the air. Tim had been working several hours at the communications computer. He had figured out how the new program was substituted. If it didn’t mean death for so many Americans, he would have thought it was inspired.

“Are you sure about this, Agent McGee?” Lt Jasper stood with his arms folded across his chest. It struck Tim that it wasn’t a very military pose.

“I’m sure. “ Tim hit a few more keys on the keyboard. “This is where the substitution was inserted.” He pointed to a few lines of symbols, watching Lt. Jasper shake his head.

“And you know who did it?”

“Now I do. I can trace the code back.” He looked at Ziva who was standing by his side. “The code is coming from a computer in Kabul, a computer from the com room on base.”

“Are you going to tell me the name of the person responsible for the deaths of those Marines? I’d like to know. One of the men killed was a good friend of mine. I’m the one who had to tell his mother that her son was dead.”

“Who has access to the tactical computers? Whose job is it to keep track of troop movements?”

“We have several people who are privy to that information.”

“Can your men take Agent David and me back to Kabul? You’ll find out once I brief Major O’Hara, and I need to do that in person.” What he didn’t say was that he inserted his own virus into the code making the information unusable at the present time.

McGee could see that the Lt didn’t like his answer, but it was all he could say at the time.

Knowing the NCIS agent wasn’t going to say any more, the Lt turned. “We leave in thirty minutes, be ready. It will be dark soon and we certainly don’t want to be riding around in the dark.

“Let’s go for a walk, Ziva,” McGee said once the lieutenant had left the area. Ziva followed in step behind the other agent.

“Okay, McGee, what is going up?”

“Down, Ziva,” he smiled. “It’s ‘what’s going down’.”

“Up, down, whatever; tell me.” They had walked about twenty feet from the building, but still in full view of the guards.

Tim started explaining what was going on but before he could divulge whom he thought was responsible, a loud noise startled them. Debris was flying everywhere and the ground shook. This was immediately followed by several more rounds of loud noise and even more smoke and debris.

Ziva grabbed onto her partner’s arm and they both fell to the ground. Ziva immediately had her sidearm out but she couldn’t see anything through the lingering smoke.

After several minutes everything was quiet again. Ziva looked up then took stock of her person. Her knee and elbow hurt from where she hit the ground and she could feel a warm, sticky fluid running down her face. She swiped at it and her hand came away bloody. She felt dizzy as she sat up looking for McGee.

“McGee,” she said urgently when she saw him lying on his stomach next to her. He didn’t move or give any indication that he even heard her. “McGee, Tim.” That’s when she saw the blood pooling on the rocky ground. She turned him over to see where the blood was coming from. Two bloody wounds were evident at his abdomen and a large laceration extended down the side of his face. “I need help here. I need a medic!” she yelled. “Come on, Tim. Do not do this,” she said quietly as she put pressure on his wounds. “Tony wants you back and I promised that you would be. Do not make me a liar.”

***

Tony looked up from his computer and stared off into space. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there like that but Gibbs’ voice brought him back to the present.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, Boss,” Tony said, pretending to be interested in what was on the computer screen.

“Tony.”

Tony looked at his boss. “I, I, don’t know; something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

“Wrong; wrong where?” Gibbs noticed the still vacant look in Tony’s eyes and realized what he meant. “You mean with McGee and Ziva?” Tony just stared at his boss. “Okay, relax. Let me go talk to Vance.” Tony started to get up, wanting to be there to hear the news in person. “No, you stay put.”

Just then the desk phone rang. “Answer your phone, DiNozzo. I’ll be back.” Tony gave a nod and picked the phone up from the cradle as Gibbs took the steps two at a time on his way to the Director’s office.

“DiNozzo,” he said into the phone.

Abby’s voice answered. “I think I found something. I’m coming up there.”

Two minutes later Abby was standing in front of Tony’s desk. “Where’s Gibbs?”

“He’s with Vance.” He anticipated Abby’s reaction and held up his hand. “No, we haven’t heard anything, he’s just checking to see if there’s been an update.”

“There hasn’t been, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said as he returned.

“I guess no news is good news.” But Tony couldn’t shake the feeling he had that something was indeed wrong. He tried to put the thoughts in the back of his mind and concentrate on what Abby had to say.

“What do you have, Abs?”

“Those names McGee gave me, I found something. Look,” she said using the remote to activate the screen on the wall by Tony’s desk. Four military ID’s came up. “Staff Sergeant Frank Davenport is twenty-eight years old and a good Marine, actually a stellar Marine. His sudden TDY to Iraq seems hinky, but it’s not. His half-brother Keith Davenport, an army sergeant, is stationed there. He was wounded three days ago, not seriously, thank goodness, but will spend a few days in the hospital. Davenport was allowed to go see him under the guise of Temporary Duty.”

“What about the others?”

“Staff Sergeant Ortega, also twenty-eight, has been in Afghanistan for ten months and is due to rotate back to the States in six weeks. She’s married and has a two year old son living with her husband who’s stationed in San Diego. Staff Sergeant Brown is thirty years old and has been in Kabul for two months. This is his third tour. He has a Purple Heart from an injury during his first tour. Records show him to be an excellent Marine, also. Last but not least is Lt. Jasper.” His picture was highlighted on the screen. “Did a tour in Iraq last year and received several commendations including one from the army for helping to rescue some soldiers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s had nothing but superior OER’s.”

“Abby, you didn’t come up here to tell me who it’s not. Now do you have something for me or are you just wasting my time?”

She was used to Gibbs’ gruffness. “I have something, Gibbs,” she said in her own self-satisfied way.

“Well, get to it.”

She clicked the remote which put a military ID on the screen. The two agents stared at the unexpected sight. Gibbs headed for the stairs up to MTAC, Tony following close behind.

***
 

“I need a medic, now.” Ziva’s voice wavered, but only for a second. She knew what she needed to do and her training wouldn’t let her do anything else.

There was shouting and footsteps coming closer. The smoke was dissipating in the evening breeze.

A moment later two marines were at her side, moving her away from her partner. She reluctantly let loose the pressure on Tim’s abdomen and watched one of the medics do a cursory exam, checking the abdominal bleeding and head wound.

A second marine took charge of Ziva, examining her head wound and applying a bandage after cleaning it as best he could. She shoved him away with surprising strength. “I am fine; help McGee.” She reached up and held the gauze to her own head wound. “Please, help McGee.”

“He needs a hospital fast,” the young man yelled to another marine who was already on the radio calling for an evac chopper. No one else seemed to be injured beyond the minor cut or scrape so the medics could concentrate on the severely wounded civilian in their midst. An I.V. was started and pressure dressings were applied to the abdominal wounds. An occasional low moan was the only evidence of life.

“Where is that chopper?” Ziva questioned after what seemed like hours, but in fact had been only fifteen minutes. She was crouched down by Tim’s head, slowly and gently caressing the soft hair on his head. “You will be fine, Tim. Do you hear me? I will be with you and we will both be back home soon.”

Within minutes the evac helicopter landed and more medical personnel jumped out. Tim was placed on a back board and loaded into the chopper. Ziva was helped in and sat on the seat, taking hold of McGee’s hand. She continued talking softly, but knew he couldn’t hear her through the noise of the motor. The chopper lifted off smoothly and headed back to Kabul as the sun was setting in the west.

Ziva didn’t like the idea of having to tell her boss and Director Vance that one of their agents was injured. She squeezed Tim’s hand, silently praying that he would indeed be fine. She watched the doctor and nurse working to stabilize her unconscious friend.

***

Flying…he was flying; he was sure of it. But how was it possible?

He let the feeling wash over him.

He wasn’t alone. The voice in his head kept talking, saying strange things.

“You are going to be fine, Tim. Hold on, I am here with you.”

“I’m flying, of course I’m fine,” he tried to tell the voice, not sure if he actually said the words or not.

Pain…there shouldn’t be this much pain if he was flying. Should there?

He decided that he liked the flying better than the pain.

Noise…loud, loud noise, flying was supposed to be quiet. He decided he didn’t like the noise either, except maybe the voice. The voice was soft and soothing; it went with flying.

Sugarplums…why did he suddenly want sugarplums? He wasn’t even sure what they were, but knew he needed one now. Maybe if he just asked…

All he had to do was ask.


tbc