Fifteen Minutes to Midnight - Chapter 6
Title: Fifteen Minutes to Midnight
Author: fulltobursting aka unilocular
Artist:
hinky_hippo
Summary: In the midst of a case, Tim and Tony are at each others' throats...like usual. But when a routine interview takes a potentially deadly turn, they both learn the true meaning of friendship.
Rating: Strong Teen
Spoilers/Warnings: General spoilers up to 12x10: House Rules. General violence, whump, bad language, and lots of movie references.
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Chapter Six
“Don’t you know what a warning shot is, Sammy?” Ken uses his gun to gesture towards me and Tim.
When Sammy drops his gaze to the ground, Ken points at us with his gun again. If he doesn’t stop doing that, I’m going to kick his ass… as soon as I’m certain I won’t get Tim killed for the honor.
But right now, the odds of Tim and I getting turned into cannon fodder are overwhelming. Lying on the ground, my partner teeters on the edge of consciousness while I keep as much pressure on his leg as he can tolerate. Fear mixes with the agony on his face when he rouses slightly.
“Tony,” he whispers.
“It’ll be okay, McGee.” Our eyes meet. “Just trust me.”
After a barely there nod, he goes slack in my grasp.
My stomach somersaults like I’m on a runaway Tilt-a-Whirl. All around me, the world is spinning at a million miles an hour and nothing I can do will stop it. I just asked my friend to trust me when I don’t have a plan to keep us both alive.
I grind my teeth while I struggle to come up with something, anything. I’d love for both of us to get through this, but right now, I’ll settle for Tim making it out in one piece. Because if he doesn’t…well, I don’t even want to think about what Gibbs - or the rest of the team, for that matter - will do to me.
My gaze wanders back to the brothers’ active conversation. Ken continues to berate Sammy while Greg stands several feet away, his back rigid and his lips pulled into a tight line. Tim and I must have wandered into some sort of a dysfunctional family squabble.
“It’s a warning,” Ken drones on. “You want to let someone know that you have a gun. You want to scare the hell out of them, not actually shoot them.”
Sammy runs his shoe along the dirt. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you remember what Dad used to say?”
“Yeah,” he says, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears, “‘sorry doesn’t matter.’ I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I just thought it would make them stop.”
Ken pinches the bridge of his nose. “It did, but that’s not the point.”
“For the love of G-d, Kenneth,” Greg interjects, “just shut up the fuck already. Sammy got the job done, even if he made a little mistake.”
Ken points the gun at us again. “Does that look like a little mistake to you? Sammy shot a federal agent and he…he doesn’t look too great right now. What do you suggest I do? Pat Sammy on the back and say, ‘great job, chief’?”
“It’d be a start,” Greg grouses.
Shoulders hitching, Sammy sniffles like a little kid on the wrong end of a lecture. He wipes his sleeve against his nose and I catch the unmistakable sound of snot and tears held back. He probably isn’t much more than a kid himself.
“How about you help us figure out a way to fix this?” Greg replies, throwing his hands up. “You’re the one who always wants us to come to you when we have a problem.”
Ken licks his lips. “Well, you’re the know-it-all. So let’s hear your idea.”
When Greg glances at us, the predatory look in his eyes turns his blood to ice. I put myself between them and Tim.
Greg snickers before he turns back to Ken. “We’ve still got one good bargaining chip. I think if the government wants to see him alive again, they’d be inclined to let Charlene go.”
“And the other one?”
“Let’s leave him here and let nature take its course.” When Ken starts to protest, Greg plucks the handgun from his waistband. “Or if you don’t want him to suffer, we can help it along. Since you are a bleeding heart and all.”
Holding his hand to his chin, Ken studies his twin. “So that’s your master plan to get our sister back? Trade one agent and his friend’s body for our sister?”
Greg grins as though he’s happy his brother finally sees his side. “It’s a great idea, right?”
My heart wedges itself higher in my throat as I come up with a ‘Hail Mary’ escape attempt.
If I can just get Tim to his feet, we might make it a few inches before the brothers gun us down. But I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory than watch my friend die and wait for the agency to tell these losers to pound sand. Because I’ll get a bullet in the brain when that happens anyway.
I shift Tim closer, so I’ll be able to yank him up.
He glances up, eyes half-lidded, as he searches mine for some explanation. But I have nothing to offer. The confusion sweeps from his face, quickly replaced by a look of unwavering trust that terrifies me far more than our impending death.
He squeezes my hand as though to say, Thanks for the run. It was a good one.
Something that feels oddly like regret rises in my chest.
Right before I move, Ken bursts out laughing.
“You’re an idiot,” he says, earning him a glare from Greg. “That kind of thing will get us on the Most Wanted List. Do you think…” He looks over at me. “Where are you boys from again?”
“NCIS,” I offer with a smile.
“Okay.” Ken nods, turns to Greg. “Do you really think NCIS will just hand over our sister on a silver platter when they find out we killed one of their agents? That’s not how this works.”
I decide not to tell him trying to exchange a pair of hostages for a prisoner probably won’t work either. Instead, I watch Tim’s eyes close again, the rise and fall of his chest even out. Some color manages to return to his cheeks, making him look more normal.
“Then enlighten me,” Greg growls through gritted teeth.
“We go with the original plan to trade ‘em both,” Ken explains, “but we’ll have to move up the time-table. Let’s get them back to the farm, so we can make that phone call.”
“But we aren’t ready yet.”
Ken shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. If that fed dies, we lose our chance to get back our sister. Do you really want to lose another sibling?”
At the mention of losing another sister, Greg and Sam share a drawn, crestfallen look.
Closing my eyes, I try to remember whether we knew anything about her this morning. Unfortunately, we didn’t delve deep enough into Charlene Moser’s personal life to know about her Brady Bunch-sized family. Hell, I don’t even remember anything about Sammy or the twins. Since the case seemed like such a slam-dunk, we got sloppy.
Scratch that, I got sloppy. If I’d done my due diligence, Tim and I probably wouldn’t even -
I’m so lost in my own mind that I don’t notice how hard I squeeze his arm until Tim groans. The brothers glance over at us as though they’d forgotten we were still here. Sadness dances in Greg’s eyes and his rough exterior fade momentarily.
“Losing Merilee was more than enough,” he murmurs.
“Then let’s save Charlene,” Ken says.
Then, the brothers creep towards us. Instinctively, I guard Tim. Greg stops just out of my reach, with his gun trained on me, while Sammy continues to slink forward.
As soon as he gets close enough, I kick him in the shin.
If it hurts, he sure as hell doesn’t show it. I punch him in the gut and he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he drives his fist against my ear. Something pops in my jaw and momentarily, the world greys around the edges. Falling forward on my hands, I listen to the sound of my own gasps as I struggle to stay awake.
Sammy has enough time to unlatch the cuffs from Tim’s wrist and drag me several feet away. Before my mind stop spinning enough to fight back, I’m flat on my back against the dirt with my hands cuffed in front of me. He keeps an uncompromising boot against my chest and a gun pointed at my face.
Helplessly, I watch Tim try to fend off the twins. Even though he’s half-asleep, the fight he puts up is admirable. He lands a hit to Ken’s junk. When the hell did the Probie learn to fight dirty? I bet he picked that up from Gibbs, not me. He gears up to strike Greg, but one back hand from the brother ends it all.
After they inspect Tim’s leg, the twins share the same grim face like some sort of fucked up Double Mint commercial. Then Greg lifts Tim from the ground and throws him over his shoulder as though my partner weighs nothing at all.
“Nothing stupid, got it?” Sammy says.
After I nod, he yanks me to my feet. I work my jaw to get rid of the ringing in my ears.
With Greg and Ken in the lead, we cut our way through the trees back to the farm. I stumble over the uneven ground, my dress shoes slipping in the mud and wet leaves.
We’re nearly back at the farm when I notice a rusted out husk of a classic Mustang lurking in the trees. The sight of it stops me dead in my tracks. Based on the body styling and frame shape, it’s the same model year as the one Trent Kort blew up over a decade ago with what everyone thought was me inside.
Is this what people mean when they say you see your life flashes before your eyes when you die? Maybe it isn’t the actual events playing through your brain like a movie, but tiny nuances you recognize in real life only if you’re really paying attention.
Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath.
So far today, I recognized my mother’s favorite movie, my old car, and the re-emergence of Tim’s probie voice. That’s too many for a coincidence, if you ask my boss. Hell, if you ask Gibbs, one is way too much.
A part of me wonders whether Laird Cregar as the Devil will be waiting for me like he was for Don Ameche in Heaven Can Wait. Maybe I’ll be just as lucky to get rejected from hell. But who am I kidding? I’ve done far too many horrific acts in this life to earn myself a place amongst the angels in the clouds.
But I can still make one thing right.
Sammy barrels into me. “Keep moving.”
I keep my eyes fixated on Greg’s back and Tim’s unconscious form. Even if I’m going to die today, I will make sure my partner doesn’t.
Before long, we stumble through the forest, back into the driveway. The Charger is exactly where we left it, mocking Tim and me with just how close safety is. I still have the keys, but we aren’t going anywhere.
The bright sunlight shrinks the shadows beneath our feet to nothingness.
My mind wanders on auto-pilot through the plot to High Noon and ends on the scene where Gary Cooper and Ian McDonald have their fateful showdown. I’m not thinking about the movie because it’s important-which really, it isn’t. But because it’s the same thought I have during every road trip…right before Gibbs calls to check in before he goes for his seventh coffee refill.
As soon as he figures out something’s wrong, he and Bishop will be out here in double-time.
My heart lifts. Maybe there is hope for me and Tim just yet.
When I head for the house, Sammy grabs the crook of my arm and leads me towards the barn. Up ahead, Greg carries Tim inside.
I hustle to keep up and bolt through the door. Sunlight filtering through the holes in the walls gives the place a horror movie vibe, and the reek of must and rotting hay doesn’t help things either.
With my heart in my throat, I squint through the darkness until I find my partner.
In the farthest corner, Tim is propped up on a pile of straw. Ken retrieves a bucket of water and couple of hand towels before kneeling by Tim’s side. I fight the overwhelming urge to kick the bastard. Before I take my first step, Sammy holds me back.
“Kenneth is helping,” he explains.
I grind my teeth. “Like you did by shooting him?”
Sammy bristles. “It was an accident. I’m - “
“If my friend dies, you know that’s murder one, right?” When I glance up at him, Sammy’s face pales. “That gets you the needle, if you’re lucky.”
He swallows audibly. “And if I’m not?”
“My boss is an ex-sniper who’ll put a bullet through your eye. They say you can smell sulfur and sawdust right before the back of your head explodes.”
He sniffles. He might be trying to make there’s no bullet on its way or hold back tears. It’s a bit of a crapshoot. I pause for a long moment before I play my only hand.
“You can fix everything, Sammy. Did you know that?” Turning towards him, I hold his gaze. “You might not walk away, but it sure beats getting your brains blown out.”
Pressing his lips together, he considers the suggestion. “What do I have to do?”
“Help me get Agent McGee out of here. I’ll stay with you three as long as you need, but - “ I glance back to my partner’s ashen face “ - he doesn’t deserve to die today.”
Sammy gives Tim a long, hard look.
I force a smile. “Wouldn’t letting him go show my boss how compassionate you and your brothers are? Wouldn’t it help you get your sister back so you can be a family again?”
He stares at me for a long time as though I might be getting through to him. A torrent of emotions sweeps across his open and vulnerable face like a hurricane before his expression goes unreadable. Panic swells in my chest because I need him talking. If I have any hope of making a connection, I need to know what’s going on inside his head.
“Why don’t you tell me about Merilee,” I say.
His face pinches. “She was 12 years older than me but she was the youngest…until I came along.”
“Ah, you were ‘the oops’ baby.”
“No.” Then a more vitriolic: “Absolutely not.” He grips my arm, hard. “I was wanted, but my parents just waited a long, long time before they were ready. They loved me, just like my siblings do.”
I shake my head. “If they did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He gets close enough for me to catch the scent of the mint gum on his breath. “And what do you know? You come here from DC with your fancy suit, fat paycheck, and your perfect life. Don’t stand there and pretend like you understand anything about us.”
I know I’m about to lose this negotiation. My brain flies through the lecture I sat through at FLETC over fifteen years ago about how to survive being taken hostage. Everything is in bit and pieces, ripped apart so it could be relearned from Gibbs. Humanize yourself, I think I remember, connect with your captor and whatever you do, don’t give them a reason to kill you.
“You’re right,” I say. “I don’t understand.”
Sammy smiles at me smugly while I draw a deep breath, ready to spill one of my deepest, darkest secrets to some guy who just wants to put a bullet in my brain.
“I’m an only child who wasn’t wanted,” I say quietly. “Maybe my mom wanted me, but I don’t remember her much. After she died, my dad shipped me off to the best private schools money could buy. There’s nothing quite like being that kid who has to hide out on campus during Christmas break because your dad didn’t bother to come pick you up.”
He blinks, taken aback. “That couldn’t have happened.”
“Sophomore year while I was at military school.” I smile sadly at the memory. “Nothing like Spaghetti-O’s straight out of the can on Christmas while everyone else is opening presents. Hey, at least the local television station had a Christmas movie marathon. It’s a Wonderful Life, my favorite.”
Something that might be pity passes over Sammy’s face. “Sorry man, that sucks.”
“I got over it. But I’m telling you so that you understand that Agent McGee-“ I jerk my head back towards Tim and Ken “-is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother.”
Sammy’s hold on my arm loosens. “I swear that I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“You can’t change what happened, but you can fix the future.” When he looks like he isn’t convinced yet, I move on: “Look, I told you one of my secrets. Your turn. Tell me what happened to Merilee.”
Licking his lips, he glances to Ken as though to make sure he’s still busy with Tim. Sammy sighs quietly and then, he hangs his head. “I don’t remember much about her from when I was little. When I was six, she left the house and joined the Navy. She was a perfectionist, always having to be the best of the best.”
“A regular AJ Squared-Away, huh?”
When he nods, I’m shocked that he knows what the phrase means. “She used to send us these post cards from all over the world and when I grew up, I wanted to be just like her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He half-shrugs. “I was about to enlist when she came home one day, drunk off her ass. It was so out of character for her. My parents didn’t know what to do with her because all she did was drink and sit in her room in the dark. Eventually, they sent her to a rehab center. But - “ his eyes begin to turn glassy “ - Merilee didn’t come home after that.”
I tilt my head. “Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry.” When I pause, he only half-shrugs again. “Do you know what happened?”
His face twists in anger. “Yeah, my sister checked herself out of rehab so she could jump off a bridge in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t hear about it until someone contacted us about our missing person’s report. Three months later and after she’d been buried in a pauper’s grave.”
I suck in a breath. “Wow, that’s - “
“It’s like you just said, ‘you can’t change the past, but you can change the future’.”
My blood turns cold. “What do you mean?”
“My brothers and I found out a few months ago that she killed herself because she was raped during one of her deployments. Some guy named Lake.”
“So you took care of it?”
His lips twitch into a sad smile as he glances back at Ken. “Not me and not Charlene.”
As I swallow hard, my eyes follow his back to Tim and Ken. While Ken duct tapes a towel to the back of Tim’s leg, my heart lodges itself in my throat. The person patching my partner up might be responsible for last night’s heinous crime scene.
“You need to get Agent McGee out of here,” I whisper, “before he gets any worse. I can help you get your sister out of custody, if you do that. Do we have a deal?”
For a moment, Sammy looks as though he might cave.
“No deal,” someone behind us says. “Get the fed over there with the other one, Sammy.”
When Greg carries a bucket past us to Ken and Tim, Sammy drags me over too. One swift kick to the back of my knees drops me to the ground. I move to Tim’s side. In the patch of light filtering through the wall, his face looks paler than it did in the woods. His hair is matted and soaked from the sweat pouring down his face.
“Is he alive?” Greg asks.
“For now. His pulse is weak, but hey, he’s still got one,” Ken says, but I don’t find it comforting at all. “Did you bring the stuff from the house?”
Making a face, Greg pulls out a bottle of water and container of aspirin. “I don’t see the point anyway. Who the hell cares if it hurts?”
“Because pain could make him get worse faster. And if he kicks it, we can’t exactly trade him for Charlene, remember?”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
At that moment, a cell phone’s ring echoes from the bucket. Growling, Greg pulls it out.
Sammy’s brow furrows. “Why’d you bring that?”
“Both of them keep going off,” Greg says, “like every fucking minute. I figured if one of them doesn’t answer soon their fed friends will be crawling all over here in no time.”
“I guess now is as good a time as any to notify their agency.” Ken nods like he tries to convince himself it makes sense before staring at me poignantly. “You answer the phone and don’t say anything about your partner, got it? Then I’ll tell them what we want in exchange for you two.”
I press my lips together, pretending to play difficult. In reality, I want to answer that phone more than I want to take my next breath.
“The only way you two get out of here is when Charlene comes home. So if you want your partner to live, you better play ball.”
“Okay,” I say.
Greg holds the phone out. “Answer it.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. “Should I tell my boss how hospitable you three are being?”
He backhands me for that one, just as the phone cuts out. A second later, the ringing starts up again. Rolling his eyes, Greg places the phone against my ear and holds a gun in my face.
“McGee?” Gibbs’ voice comes over, loud and clear and rattled.
I take a steadying breath. “Boss, it’s me.”
“Tony? What’s going on? Why aren’t either of you answering?”
“We met a bunch of guys and we’re having a party right now.” I glance up at my new friends. “A big one.”
“And McGee?”
“He’s hit, boss. It isn’t good.”
The line goes quiet for a heartbeat and I hear a honk and the squeal of tires on the other end right before Greg yanks the phone away. He smacks me upside the head and I groan.
Greg jerks the phone away. “That’s enough. Listen up, fed…no, no, you listen to me. If you want your agents back alive, you’ll hand over Charlene Moser. You’ve got one hour to make the arrangements. We’ll make contact in one hour.” When he ends the call, he turns to his brothers. “Now what, Kenneth?”
Ken’s jaw snaps closed. “We, uh - um…they’re going to be coming straight here. We need to get out of here. Now!”
Click to Read Chapter Seven
Author: fulltobursting aka unilocular
Artist:
hinky_hippo
Summary: In the midst of a case, Tim and Tony are at each others' throats...like usual. But when a routine interview takes a potentially deadly turn, they both learn the true meaning of friendship.
Rating: Strong Teen
Spoilers/Warnings: General spoilers up to 12x10: House Rules. General violence, whump, bad language, and lots of movie references.
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Chapter Six
“Don’t you know what a warning shot is, Sammy?” Ken uses his gun to gesture towards me and Tim.
When Sammy drops his gaze to the ground, Ken points at us with his gun again. If he doesn’t stop doing that, I’m going to kick his ass… as soon as I’m certain I won’t get Tim killed for the honor.
But right now, the odds of Tim and I getting turned into cannon fodder are overwhelming. Lying on the ground, my partner teeters on the edge of consciousness while I keep as much pressure on his leg as he can tolerate. Fear mixes with the agony on his face when he rouses slightly.
“Tony,” he whispers.
“It’ll be okay, McGee.” Our eyes meet. “Just trust me.”
After a barely there nod, he goes slack in my grasp.
My stomach somersaults like I’m on a runaway Tilt-a-Whirl. All around me, the world is spinning at a million miles an hour and nothing I can do will stop it. I just asked my friend to trust me when I don’t have a plan to keep us both alive.
I grind my teeth while I struggle to come up with something, anything. I’d love for both of us to get through this, but right now, I’ll settle for Tim making it out in one piece. Because if he doesn’t…well, I don’t even want to think about what Gibbs - or the rest of the team, for that matter - will do to me.
My gaze wanders back to the brothers’ active conversation. Ken continues to berate Sammy while Greg stands several feet away, his back rigid and his lips pulled into a tight line. Tim and I must have wandered into some sort of a dysfunctional family squabble.
“It’s a warning,” Ken drones on. “You want to let someone know that you have a gun. You want to scare the hell out of them, not actually shoot them.”
Sammy runs his shoe along the dirt. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you remember what Dad used to say?”
“Yeah,” he says, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears, “‘sorry doesn’t matter.’ I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I just thought it would make them stop.”
Ken pinches the bridge of his nose. “It did, but that’s not the point.”
“For the love of G-d, Kenneth,” Greg interjects, “just shut up the fuck already. Sammy got the job done, even if he made a little mistake.”
Ken points the gun at us again. “Does that look like a little mistake to you? Sammy shot a federal agent and he…he doesn’t look too great right now. What do you suggest I do? Pat Sammy on the back and say, ‘great job, chief’?”
“It’d be a start,” Greg grouses.
Shoulders hitching, Sammy sniffles like a little kid on the wrong end of a lecture. He wipes his sleeve against his nose and I catch the unmistakable sound of snot and tears held back. He probably isn’t much more than a kid himself.
“How about you help us figure out a way to fix this?” Greg replies, throwing his hands up. “You’re the one who always wants us to come to you when we have a problem.”
Ken licks his lips. “Well, you’re the know-it-all. So let’s hear your idea.”
When Greg glances at us, the predatory look in his eyes turns his blood to ice. I put myself between them and Tim.
Greg snickers before he turns back to Ken. “We’ve still got one good bargaining chip. I think if the government wants to see him alive again, they’d be inclined to let Charlene go.”
“And the other one?”
“Let’s leave him here and let nature take its course.” When Ken starts to protest, Greg plucks the handgun from his waistband. “Or if you don’t want him to suffer, we can help it along. Since you are a bleeding heart and all.”
Holding his hand to his chin, Ken studies his twin. “So that’s your master plan to get our sister back? Trade one agent and his friend’s body for our sister?”
Greg grins as though he’s happy his brother finally sees his side. “It’s a great idea, right?”
My heart wedges itself higher in my throat as I come up with a ‘Hail Mary’ escape attempt.
If I can just get Tim to his feet, we might make it a few inches before the brothers gun us down. But I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory than watch my friend die and wait for the agency to tell these losers to pound sand. Because I’ll get a bullet in the brain when that happens anyway.
I shift Tim closer, so I’ll be able to yank him up.
He glances up, eyes half-lidded, as he searches mine for some explanation. But I have nothing to offer. The confusion sweeps from his face, quickly replaced by a look of unwavering trust that terrifies me far more than our impending death.
He squeezes my hand as though to say, Thanks for the run. It was a good one.
Something that feels oddly like regret rises in my chest.
Right before I move, Ken bursts out laughing.
“You’re an idiot,” he says, earning him a glare from Greg. “That kind of thing will get us on the Most Wanted List. Do you think…” He looks over at me. “Where are you boys from again?”
“NCIS,” I offer with a smile.
“Okay.” Ken nods, turns to Greg. “Do you really think NCIS will just hand over our sister on a silver platter when they find out we killed one of their agents? That’s not how this works.”
I decide not to tell him trying to exchange a pair of hostages for a prisoner probably won’t work either. Instead, I watch Tim’s eyes close again, the rise and fall of his chest even out. Some color manages to return to his cheeks, making him look more normal.
“Then enlighten me,” Greg growls through gritted teeth.
“We go with the original plan to trade ‘em both,” Ken explains, “but we’ll have to move up the time-table. Let’s get them back to the farm, so we can make that phone call.”
“But we aren’t ready yet.”
Ken shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. If that fed dies, we lose our chance to get back our sister. Do you really want to lose another sibling?”
At the mention of losing another sister, Greg and Sam share a drawn, crestfallen look.
Closing my eyes, I try to remember whether we knew anything about her this morning. Unfortunately, we didn’t delve deep enough into Charlene Moser’s personal life to know about her Brady Bunch-sized family. Hell, I don’t even remember anything about Sammy or the twins. Since the case seemed like such a slam-dunk, we got sloppy.
Scratch that, I got sloppy. If I’d done my due diligence, Tim and I probably wouldn’t even -
I’m so lost in my own mind that I don’t notice how hard I squeeze his arm until Tim groans. The brothers glance over at us as though they’d forgotten we were still here. Sadness dances in Greg’s eyes and his rough exterior fade momentarily.
“Losing Merilee was more than enough,” he murmurs.
“Then let’s save Charlene,” Ken says.
Then, the brothers creep towards us. Instinctively, I guard Tim. Greg stops just out of my reach, with his gun trained on me, while Sammy continues to slink forward.
As soon as he gets close enough, I kick him in the shin.
If it hurts, he sure as hell doesn’t show it. I punch him in the gut and he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he drives his fist against my ear. Something pops in my jaw and momentarily, the world greys around the edges. Falling forward on my hands, I listen to the sound of my own gasps as I struggle to stay awake.
Sammy has enough time to unlatch the cuffs from Tim’s wrist and drag me several feet away. Before my mind stop spinning enough to fight back, I’m flat on my back against the dirt with my hands cuffed in front of me. He keeps an uncompromising boot against my chest and a gun pointed at my face.
Helplessly, I watch Tim try to fend off the twins. Even though he’s half-asleep, the fight he puts up is admirable. He lands a hit to Ken’s junk. When the hell did the Probie learn to fight dirty? I bet he picked that up from Gibbs, not me. He gears up to strike Greg, but one back hand from the brother ends it all.
After they inspect Tim’s leg, the twins share the same grim face like some sort of fucked up Double Mint commercial. Then Greg lifts Tim from the ground and throws him over his shoulder as though my partner weighs nothing at all.
“Nothing stupid, got it?” Sammy says.
After I nod, he yanks me to my feet. I work my jaw to get rid of the ringing in my ears.
With Greg and Ken in the lead, we cut our way through the trees back to the farm. I stumble over the uneven ground, my dress shoes slipping in the mud and wet leaves.
We’re nearly back at the farm when I notice a rusted out husk of a classic Mustang lurking in the trees. The sight of it stops me dead in my tracks. Based on the body styling and frame shape, it’s the same model year as the one Trent Kort blew up over a decade ago with what everyone thought was me inside.
Is this what people mean when they say you see your life flashes before your eyes when you die? Maybe it isn’t the actual events playing through your brain like a movie, but tiny nuances you recognize in real life only if you’re really paying attention.
Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath.
So far today, I recognized my mother’s favorite movie, my old car, and the re-emergence of Tim’s probie voice. That’s too many for a coincidence, if you ask my boss. Hell, if you ask Gibbs, one is way too much.
A part of me wonders whether Laird Cregar as the Devil will be waiting for me like he was for Don Ameche in Heaven Can Wait. Maybe I’ll be just as lucky to get rejected from hell. But who am I kidding? I’ve done far too many horrific acts in this life to earn myself a place amongst the angels in the clouds.
But I can still make one thing right.
Sammy barrels into me. “Keep moving.”
I keep my eyes fixated on Greg’s back and Tim’s unconscious form. Even if I’m going to die today, I will make sure my partner doesn’t.
Before long, we stumble through the forest, back into the driveway. The Charger is exactly where we left it, mocking Tim and me with just how close safety is. I still have the keys, but we aren’t going anywhere.
The bright sunlight shrinks the shadows beneath our feet to nothingness.
My mind wanders on auto-pilot through the plot to High Noon and ends on the scene where Gary Cooper and Ian McDonald have their fateful showdown. I’m not thinking about the movie because it’s important-which really, it isn’t. But because it’s the same thought I have during every road trip…right before Gibbs calls to check in before he goes for his seventh coffee refill.
As soon as he figures out something’s wrong, he and Bishop will be out here in double-time.
My heart lifts. Maybe there is hope for me and Tim just yet.
When I head for the house, Sammy grabs the crook of my arm and leads me towards the barn. Up ahead, Greg carries Tim inside.
I hustle to keep up and bolt through the door. Sunlight filtering through the holes in the walls gives the place a horror movie vibe, and the reek of must and rotting hay doesn’t help things either.
With my heart in my throat, I squint through the darkness until I find my partner.
In the farthest corner, Tim is propped up on a pile of straw. Ken retrieves a bucket of water and couple of hand towels before kneeling by Tim’s side. I fight the overwhelming urge to kick the bastard. Before I take my first step, Sammy holds me back.
“Kenneth is helping,” he explains.
I grind my teeth. “Like you did by shooting him?”
Sammy bristles. “It was an accident. I’m - “
“If my friend dies, you know that’s murder one, right?” When I glance up at him, Sammy’s face pales. “That gets you the needle, if you’re lucky.”
He swallows audibly. “And if I’m not?”
“My boss is an ex-sniper who’ll put a bullet through your eye. They say you can smell sulfur and sawdust right before the back of your head explodes.”
He sniffles. He might be trying to make there’s no bullet on its way or hold back tears. It’s a bit of a crapshoot. I pause for a long moment before I play my only hand.
“You can fix everything, Sammy. Did you know that?” Turning towards him, I hold his gaze. “You might not walk away, but it sure beats getting your brains blown out.”
Pressing his lips together, he considers the suggestion. “What do I have to do?”
“Help me get Agent McGee out of here. I’ll stay with you three as long as you need, but - “ I glance back to my partner’s ashen face “ - he doesn’t deserve to die today.”
Sammy gives Tim a long, hard look.
I force a smile. “Wouldn’t letting him go show my boss how compassionate you and your brothers are? Wouldn’t it help you get your sister back so you can be a family again?”
He stares at me for a long time as though I might be getting through to him. A torrent of emotions sweeps across his open and vulnerable face like a hurricane before his expression goes unreadable. Panic swells in my chest because I need him talking. If I have any hope of making a connection, I need to know what’s going on inside his head.
“Why don’t you tell me about Merilee,” I say.
His face pinches. “She was 12 years older than me but she was the youngest…until I came along.”
“Ah, you were ‘the oops’ baby.”
“No.” Then a more vitriolic: “Absolutely not.” He grips my arm, hard. “I was wanted, but my parents just waited a long, long time before they were ready. They loved me, just like my siblings do.”
I shake my head. “If they did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He gets close enough for me to catch the scent of the mint gum on his breath. “And what do you know? You come here from DC with your fancy suit, fat paycheck, and your perfect life. Don’t stand there and pretend like you understand anything about us.”
I know I’m about to lose this negotiation. My brain flies through the lecture I sat through at FLETC over fifteen years ago about how to survive being taken hostage. Everything is in bit and pieces, ripped apart so it could be relearned from Gibbs. Humanize yourself, I think I remember, connect with your captor and whatever you do, don’t give them a reason to kill you.
“You’re right,” I say. “I don’t understand.”
Sammy smiles at me smugly while I draw a deep breath, ready to spill one of my deepest, darkest secrets to some guy who just wants to put a bullet in my brain.
“I’m an only child who wasn’t wanted,” I say quietly. “Maybe my mom wanted me, but I don’t remember her much. After she died, my dad shipped me off to the best private schools money could buy. There’s nothing quite like being that kid who has to hide out on campus during Christmas break because your dad didn’t bother to come pick you up.”
He blinks, taken aback. “That couldn’t have happened.”
“Sophomore year while I was at military school.” I smile sadly at the memory. “Nothing like Spaghetti-O’s straight out of the can on Christmas while everyone else is opening presents. Hey, at least the local television station had a Christmas movie marathon. It’s a Wonderful Life, my favorite.”
Something that might be pity passes over Sammy’s face. “Sorry man, that sucks.”
“I got over it. But I’m telling you so that you understand that Agent McGee-“ I jerk my head back towards Tim and Ken “-is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother.”
Sammy’s hold on my arm loosens. “I swear that I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“You can’t change what happened, but you can fix the future.” When he looks like he isn’t convinced yet, I move on: “Look, I told you one of my secrets. Your turn. Tell me what happened to Merilee.”
Licking his lips, he glances to Ken as though to make sure he’s still busy with Tim. Sammy sighs quietly and then, he hangs his head. “I don’t remember much about her from when I was little. When I was six, she left the house and joined the Navy. She was a perfectionist, always having to be the best of the best.”
“A regular AJ Squared-Away, huh?”
When he nods, I’m shocked that he knows what the phrase means. “She used to send us these post cards from all over the world and when I grew up, I wanted to be just like her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He half-shrugs. “I was about to enlist when she came home one day, drunk off her ass. It was so out of character for her. My parents didn’t know what to do with her because all she did was drink and sit in her room in the dark. Eventually, they sent her to a rehab center. But - “ his eyes begin to turn glassy “ - Merilee didn’t come home after that.”
I tilt my head. “Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry.” When I pause, he only half-shrugs again. “Do you know what happened?”
His face twists in anger. “Yeah, my sister checked herself out of rehab so she could jump off a bridge in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t hear about it until someone contacted us about our missing person’s report. Three months later and after she’d been buried in a pauper’s grave.”
I suck in a breath. “Wow, that’s - “
“It’s like you just said, ‘you can’t change the past, but you can change the future’.”
My blood turns cold. “What do you mean?”
“My brothers and I found out a few months ago that she killed herself because she was raped during one of her deployments. Some guy named Lake.”
“So you took care of it?”
His lips twitch into a sad smile as he glances back at Ken. “Not me and not Charlene.”
As I swallow hard, my eyes follow his back to Tim and Ken. While Ken duct tapes a towel to the back of Tim’s leg, my heart lodges itself in my throat. The person patching my partner up might be responsible for last night’s heinous crime scene.
“You need to get Agent McGee out of here,” I whisper, “before he gets any worse. I can help you get your sister out of custody, if you do that. Do we have a deal?”
For a moment, Sammy looks as though he might cave.
“No deal,” someone behind us says. “Get the fed over there with the other one, Sammy.”
When Greg carries a bucket past us to Ken and Tim, Sammy drags me over too. One swift kick to the back of my knees drops me to the ground. I move to Tim’s side. In the patch of light filtering through the wall, his face looks paler than it did in the woods. His hair is matted and soaked from the sweat pouring down his face.
“Is he alive?” Greg asks.
“For now. His pulse is weak, but hey, he’s still got one,” Ken says, but I don’t find it comforting at all. “Did you bring the stuff from the house?”
Making a face, Greg pulls out a bottle of water and container of aspirin. “I don’t see the point anyway. Who the hell cares if it hurts?”
“Because pain could make him get worse faster. And if he kicks it, we can’t exactly trade him for Charlene, remember?”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
At that moment, a cell phone’s ring echoes from the bucket. Growling, Greg pulls it out.
Sammy’s brow furrows. “Why’d you bring that?”
“Both of them keep going off,” Greg says, “like every fucking minute. I figured if one of them doesn’t answer soon their fed friends will be crawling all over here in no time.”
“I guess now is as good a time as any to notify their agency.” Ken nods like he tries to convince himself it makes sense before staring at me poignantly. “You answer the phone and don’t say anything about your partner, got it? Then I’ll tell them what we want in exchange for you two.”
I press my lips together, pretending to play difficult. In reality, I want to answer that phone more than I want to take my next breath.
“The only way you two get out of here is when Charlene comes home. So if you want your partner to live, you better play ball.”
“Okay,” I say.
Greg holds the phone out. “Answer it.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. “Should I tell my boss how hospitable you three are being?”
He backhands me for that one, just as the phone cuts out. A second later, the ringing starts up again. Rolling his eyes, Greg places the phone against my ear and holds a gun in my face.
“McGee?” Gibbs’ voice comes over, loud and clear and rattled.
I take a steadying breath. “Boss, it’s me.”
“Tony? What’s going on? Why aren’t either of you answering?”
“We met a bunch of guys and we’re having a party right now.” I glance up at my new friends. “A big one.”
“And McGee?”
“He’s hit, boss. It isn’t good.”
The line goes quiet for a heartbeat and I hear a honk and the squeal of tires on the other end right before Greg yanks the phone away. He smacks me upside the head and I groan.
Greg jerks the phone away. “That’s enough. Listen up, fed…no, no, you listen to me. If you want your agents back alive, you’ll hand over Charlene Moser. You’ve got one hour to make the arrangements. We’ll make contact in one hour.” When he ends the call, he turns to his brothers. “Now what, Kenneth?”
Ken’s jaw snaps closed. “We, uh - um…they’re going to be coming straight here. We need to get out of here. Now!”
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