Chapter 13
Aaron looked at himself in the mirror and he hated what he saw. The sunken eyes, the sallow complexion and jutting cheekbones were his face, but at the same time not.
This wasn't the way things were supposed to play out. He should be a permanent fixture in the NCIS headquarters right now, working his way up the ranks, but instead he was a faded and weathered copy of the man he used to be.
Gone was the federal agent, no agency or even police department would touch him with a ten-foot pole.
Gone was his future, his dreams, his goals, his aspirations.
His reflection in the mirror morphed and changed before his eyes, he no longer saw his own face staring back at him, but he the face of his father.
He had become his father.
He hated himself for the image reflected back at him now and revolted against it as it turned his stomach.
'I told you you would never amount to nothin'-Look at you now...not such a big deal anymore, are you?' He could hear his father say in his head.
With an angry shout and a wave of disgust flashing across his senses, he drove his fist straight into his father's mocking face. Hoping it would silence the man's voice telling him how he had been right all along-
“Shut-up!” he yelled into the now broken pieces of reflective glass laying strewn about the cheap motel bathroom. “You son of a bitch, shut up!”
Just like the pieces of the mirror that now lay scattered, Aaron, the once brightly and highly polished man, was shattered and broken, never to be put back together again.
He walked out of the bathroom and back to the bed to finish his preparations. With now shaky, bloody hands and fingers, he snapped a bullet one at a time into the clips that lay out on the dirty bedspread. He had one last mission to get ready for.
As he finished his preparations he thought back with bitterness to the events that had led him to this exact point in time. How had he fallen so far, so hard and so fast? When did it all go wrong?
He knew the answer to that already:
Six months ago in Mexico.
And It was all Agent DiNozzo's fault that the only thing he had to look forward to before he died was revenge.
Six months earlier:
In the dimly lit area just outside the evidence locker, Gibbs looked over his team as they took seats at a long, folding table. The team leader liked to have strategy and brainstorming sessions here where it was quiet and removed from the bullpen. No phones ringing, no people walking by and especially most important of all, no toothpick chewing directors hovering above them to distract the team from coming up with ideas for getting their assignment planned out and executed.
Foster, Ziva and McGee each took a metal folding chair and sat, but Tony was having a hard time unfolding one with his crutches before Ziva unfolded one for him. Gibbs noted how uncomfortable Tony looked as he tried to find a position that allowed for his leg to rest without pain and showing mercy on his subordinate as Tony grew frustrated, Gibbs grabbed an extra chair and planted it in front of his senior agent with a loud clang, growling as he gently placed Tony's leg outstretched onto the other chair for him.
“Thanks, Boss.” Tony offered but Gibbs didn't respond and had already turned away, grabbing a stack of files before he began addressing the assembled group.
“Two days ago, a sailor from Norfolk, Petty Officer Roberto Marquez, was abducted just outside Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. A ransom demand for a million USD for his safe return has been made, but as you all know, the US Navy isn't in the business of paying off ransoms.”
“Question here, Gibbs....” Ziva spoke up. “Given the recent rash of kidnappings there, is not travel to that part of Mexico restricted for naval personnel for just this reason?”
“It is, but Marquez got a waiver from his commanding officer to visit his ailing mother there. He was apparently abducted just outside the hospital she's in. Most likely, they picked him at random, but didn't realize they had taken an American serviceman until they saw his ID card. ”
"So they decided to just go with it and try to get a ransom from the US Navy? Pretty Ballsy if you ask me." Tony pointed out.
"I don't think I was, DiNozzo." Gibbs shot back. Foster snickered a little, enjoying the sight of the other agent being put in his place a little and Tony shot him an irritated glance. Gibbs had noted the tension between the two agents already, but knew that most of that was due to the fact that both of them were highly competetive people and they saw each other as a threat to one another's career.
“So, do we know who the kidnappers are or where they might be holding Marquez?” McGee asked, breaking some of the tension and getting them back on track.
“The kidnappers have identified themselves as the Los Lobos de Juarez, an organized crime syndicate and drug cartel that's come to be responsible for at least five other abductions of Americans in just the last couple of months, mostly white collar employees that live in El Paso and commute to work across the border to the auto plants in Juarez.” Gibbs handed out files to each of his team members as he explained the situation.
“This particular organization as of late, has received at least half a million US dollars paid by families and some of the companies of the kidnap victims for their safe return. Unfortunately for at least two of them, when the ransom money never came, their bodies were found days later out in the desert. As far was we know, Marquez is still alive, but the deadline for the ransom pay out is in two days before they plan to execute him as well. Our assignment is to find Marquez and bring him home. ”
“So, why are we on this and not the Mexican police?” Tony asked, sitting back in his chair while he read the file casually. “Won't they be a little pissed that the gringos are coming over and doing their job for them?”
“Yeah, They probably would be.... if they knew we were coming” Gibbs replied with a slight glint in his eye.
“You mean, the Mexican government has no idea that we will be entering their country and running an operation?” Aaron asked in surprise. “Doesn't that violate a whole mess of treaties and international laws?”
“We have permission from the Mexican federal government on this and we will be backed up by the Mexican army....It's the local government in Juarez that's being kept in the dark.”
“Ah...I get it, “ Tony smiled. “This is more than just a simple extraction, isn't it?”
“There's reason to believe that the chief of police and other city government officials might be involved in one way or another with this and several other organized crime syndicates in the area.” Gibbs explained. “even the chief of police is under suspicion, corruption is rampant and we just can't trust the locals to do much of anything except leak information to the crime bosses themselves.”
“Maybe that's exactly what we should do.” Tony stated.
“What should we do, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked.
“Ya know....Leak information to the crime bosses. Maybe put the word out to the local police department that....” Tony looked across the table at his fellow teammates before his gaze landed squarely on McGee. “That there might be someone in town with some notoriety, money or fame, but maybe not so famous that they would have any good security, making said person an easy target for kidnappers to make some fast money...It would be like throwing a steak into a lion's den....there would be no way they could resist going after him.”
“Why are you looking at me, Tony?” McGee asked warily from the other end of the table.
Tony grinned.
OOOOOOOOOO
Aaron adjusted his earwig and blew out a nervous breath.
McGee too looked a little nervous or he may have been just a little bored and Foster was misinterpreting his fidgeting.
“Have I mentioned how much I hate this idea, Tony?” McGee complained yet again to the air as he sat at the lonel book signing table for the Spanish translation of 'Deep Six” no one in town seemed to be in the least bit interested in coming to. However, what he was saying was coming through loud and clear to the other agent across the country in MTAC and to the Ziva and Gibbs sitting in the nondescript van across the street from the bookstore where they surveyed the neighborhood. Foster milled around the store, pretending to be just another book shopper as he watched carefully for signs that anyone might be interested in abducting the famous, American author, Thom E. Gemcity.
“You're just upset because no one has come in wanting to get their book signed by el mas famoso arturo Americano, Thom E. Gemcity.....” Tony laughed about the sign that he knew hung behind McGee's head and the others that he had made to have hung up around the town as a way of getting word out that someone with possibly lots of money, but maybe not a high-powered celebrity would be in town. Word had also been spread to the local police department that he would in town for a book signing tour through his publicist. Tony knew it would irritate and distract the younger agent, but maybe it might help him forget his nerves. “You know the ironic thing about this is that you're probably the one with the least amount of money between all of us now thanks to you're tanking stock portfolio. So, just how much did you lose anyway?"
"Not now, Tony." McGee put his elbow onto the table and rubbed his forehead in frustration.
"Aww, you know I'm just messing with you. Don't worry, Just do what we planned and you'll do fine, McGoo.”
"Easy for you to say.” McGee grumbled and shook his head. “You're not the one sitting here waiting for God knows what.”
“Hey, don't you think I'd rather be in you shoes right now instead of being stuck here- you think I like watching you guys have all of the fun?” Tony's voice complained.
“You think this is fun, being bait for kidnappers?”
“Sure, don't you?”
“No. Only a complete idiot would think this is fun....” McGee grumbled then brightened a little. "Then again, I guess I could see how you might like doing something like this, Tony."
“Hey, now you watch it....I may be a thousand miles away, but when you get back I could still kick your....”
“DiNozzo, McGee-” Gibbs' sternly came voice over the radio. “Shut the hell up. Foster, you have a target moving in on your location at two o'clock.”
“I see her.” He whispered back. Foster looked out across the book stacks and saw a woman enter the store, the first such customer to appear since McGee was set up for the book signing in the small, downtown bookshop almost a half-hour ago. She was a young lady, no older than twenty, Latina and very pretty. She wore a very short skirt, tall, knee high boots and a tight-fitting, low-cut shirt that left little to the imagination.
She walked deliberately towards the table and McGee.
She didn't look like the typical reader of McGee's book, but they knew someone like her might be coming. Following the kidnapper's M.O, A spotter was usually sent in first to assess their potential victim's security or lack there-of in this case. Other times, people were just randomly taken from the street, such as was the case with Petty Officer Marquez, but with higher-profile targets, like wealthy auto executives or potentially rich American authors, they tended to do a little research first, sending in someone that wouldn't necessarily raise any red flags, such as a young girl like the one Foster saw approach McGee. She could be the spotter or she could be just a regular customer, but she fit the profile and Foster kept a close eye on her while trying to appear interested in the books.
“Hola.” McGee greeted as she grabbed a book from the stack beside him.
“Hello.” The girl responded in accented and broken English. “I like...you, ah...tu libro, um book...please. I am...big fan.” Just by looking, he could see that she was lying and had most likely never heard of him or his book before as she held the book out for him to take.
“Sign your book?” McGee asked.
“Si....yes.” She nodded with a big smile, that was less than genuine.
“Alright. What's your name?”
“Marisol.”
McGee took the book from the girl's hands and signed it with a flourish.
"Okay, Marisol, here you go." He handed the book back and smiled.
“Gracias.” She thanked him.
“De nada.” McGee responded, using what little he remembered of seventh grade Spanish.
“You...ah...here alone?” she asked, looking around.
“Yeah.”
“You have....girlfriend, no?” She looking him over with a hint of seduction in her voice.
“Uh, no...no just me.”
“If you lonely....I help...” She made her intentions clear by lifting the hem of her skirt a little higher, showing off her upper thigh and arching her eyebrows.
“Oh....uh...” McGee gulped and nearly stumbled over his words as he heard Tony chuckle into his ear. “H-How?”
“We go disco....you and me....baila, dance, no?” she shook her hips to demonstrate.
“Um, uh....I ....”
“Tell her you'll go McGee....she wants to get you alone....she might be in with Los Lobos.” Tony spoke into his earwig.
“Well, I...” McGee hesitated.
“Do it, McGee.” Gibbs agreed with Tony's assessment, urging him to get on with it.
“Oh, well....okay.” McGee told the girl and she smiled brightly.
“You meet at disco...across street....when you finish, si?”
“Sure...I'll be done at here at 7 pm.”
“Bien...Adios” She smiled seductively as she turned to leave.
“Adios.” McGee finger waved and watched her tail as she left the table, paid for her book and exited the store.
“Way to score McGee....Now tell me, was she hot?”
“Shut up, Tony.” McGee blew out the breath that he felt he had been holding the whole time the girl had been in the store.
Across the street Ziva and Gibbs watched the girl leave the bookstore.
“Get a tail on her, Ziva.” Gibbs turned to her. “I'll watch the store.”
“On it.” Ziva climbed out of the van and discreetly followed the girl as she walked down the street. Several times the girl turned around as if she could sense she was being followed, but Ziva had always been very skilled at keeping a distance that would go unnoticed by anyone she might be tailing and the girl never saw her.
Going around a corner into a dirty alleyway, the girl whipped out a cell phone. Ziva took refuge near a dumpster where she wouldn't be seen, but she could hear the girl's side of the conversation as she rapidly spoke in Spanish, a language Ziva had been speaking fluently since she was fourteen.
“Felipe....it's Lucia. Yes, I went in....It looks good, no one was on him, he should be easy....He's to meet me at the disco at 7 pm, do you want me to go, or are you just going to take him?....Okay....no, you promised 3000 pesos to check him out, you better pay....no, no no, Felipe....3000 no less....fine, 2500, but if you don't pay me by tomorrow I'm never doing this again.” Angrily, the girl swore and flipped closed her phone, walking off and smack dab in Ziva who now held her Sig to the girl's head. Taken by surprise, she raised he hands to the air.
“So, Marisol, or is it Lucia?” Ziva began in Spanish as she quickly frisked her for weapons. “You had better come with me, we have a lot we need to talk about.”
OOOOOOOOOO
From the back of the van, Ziva and Gibbs gathered from Lucia, that she was not actually a part of the Los Lobos gang, but her boyfriend, Felipe was and had been using her to scope out targets for extortion or kidnapping. He had been paying her for each person she brought in and somewhere along the line they had begun a serious relationship and Felipe had begun to open up to her about various operations going on within the Los Lobos cartel. Besides kidnapping and extortion, the major revenue maker for the gang was drug smuggling across the border into El Paso.
She confirmed that it was indeed the Los Lobos gang that had taken the sailor and that he was still alive as far as she knew at a ranch house outside of town. She wasn't certain of the exact location, but she did know that all of their kidnap victims had been taken there so far and that Felipe would be coming in to town that night to abduct their next victim, Thom E. Gemcity.
While McGee wasn't thrilled with the prospect of purposefully getting kidnapped, it was possibly the only way for the team to locate the missing sailor. Armed with only a small transmitter hidden in his clothes, he was waiting outside the disco where he was to be meeting the woman he met at the bookstore. If all went well, he would be taken and the transmitter would send off a signal the entire time, so that Tony at MTAC could follow their movements and lead them straight to the ranch where the sailor was. Then, the Mexican Army was to be called in and do the actual raid, swooping in with helicopters and dozens of trucks in an effort to wipe out one more cartel in their war against the violence that has plagued the country since the crackdown on the drug trade began a few years ago.
McGee waited alone outside the disco, but knowing that so man eyes were watching, brought him a measure of comfort. Foster had volunteered to stay with him, but everyone agreed that McGee alone would make a more tantalizing target if he didn't have another person around to possibly scare off the gang's plans to abduct him.
Instead, Foster stayed in the van, charged with keeping searching Maria for any weapons and keeping a close eye on her while the op went down. He hated being relegated to such a lowly task as watching an unarmed girl who wasn't going anywhere, and his attention had been drawn to the monitors in the van that showed McGee standing alone outside when a dark SUV pulled up along side him.
As if on cue, four black hooded men sprang forth from the vehicle and launched onto the hapless undercover agent and pulled him into their car, speeding off with a squeal of the tires. Foster could read from the expression on Gibbs' face, that he wasn't a big fan of this plan either, but he had put his faith in McGee's abilities and in those of his team to pull this off.
“Transmitter is receiving a signal, Boss. And we have a satellite visual on your location.” Foster heard DiNozzo say from across the country.
“Keep the satellite trained on that black SUV, DiNozzo.”
“We got it...It's heading south out of town.”
“Ziva, you got that Mexican Colonel on the horn?”
“Yes, Gibbs.” Ziva relayed from her location
“Tell him to stand by for the location and to move in only when I say to.”
Ziva nodded and spoke into her headset in Spanish to the commander of the Mexican forces that would be raiding the ranch.
Foster had been so enraptured by the goings on that he hadn't been paying close attention the woman he was to be guarding. She had never been armed that much was true, but on under her foot, inside of her boots, she had hidden as small pager for emergencies just like this. Now that Foster had his back to her for the moment, she used that opportunity to unzip her her boot and pull it out discreetly. Even with her hands tied behind her back and unable to see it she was able to send out the warning, letting Felipe know that they were about to be raided.
OOOOOOOOOO
Everything had been going according to plan, he had been kidnapped, herded into the dark SUV, roughed up a little as they shoved him to the floor of the vehicle and they were almost out of town before a beeping sound rang out across the cab of the SUV from the driver. The driver pulled out an old-style pager the likes of which McGee hadn't seen in years. One look at the thing and the driver immediately swore and floored the gas, shouting to the others in the back with Tim.
McGee didn't know Spanish very well, but he gathered from the raised voices that followed after that that they were not happy campers. The next thing he knew, a gun was shoved into his face as his captors shouted at him in Spanish.
He didn't know what to say or how to respond, he could only curl up into a ball as his captors began raining fists and feet into him. He thought for sure that a bullet heading for his head would come next, but what he didn't expect was for the car door to open while he was grabbed and forcefully tossed from the moving vehicle. Flying through the air towards the moving ground, he thought for sure that this was it. This was, quite literally, the end of the road for him. But when he landed on the ground with a bone jarring thud and rolled several times across the asphalt highway before coming to a stop on his back, he realized that he definitely not dead, but in serious pain. The SUV sped off and all he could do was watch it leave him behind in the middle of nowhere.
For some reason, all he could think of at the moment was how he was grateful he had thought to take the transmitter off of himself and place it under a seat as soon as they had thrown him in, otherwise, if they lost the satellite feed on the car, they may never find the place where Los Lobos was hiding the sailor.
He lay in the ground and his vision grew dim, his chest aching from what he knew had to be at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones, he hoped that he had done enough to get that sailor home. With the cool of the evening descending upon him, he felt his eyes grow heavy and he gave into the darkness.
When he woke again, the first thing he recognized was Ziva's face and the touch of the cool cloth to his forehead, causing him to wince. He wasn't sure how he ended up in the back of the van that Gibbs and Ziva had been using for surveillance, but he figured that the satellite had given them his location and they had gone after him after things went south.
With a groan he tried to get up, but Ziva pushed him back down.
“Hold still, Tim. You are hurt.”
“Ugh, what happened?” He asked. “They tossed me out...I don't get it...Why'd they do that?”
“They were tipped off.” Ziva explained. “They knew the raid was coming.”
“What? How?” he asked, he looked around and saw Gibbs at the wheel, fuming as he drove at speeds that were unsafe for jets let alone conversion vans. Then he saw Foster in the other corner of the interior, his head hung low, when he looked up, McGee saw the pained expression on his face, the remorse and guilt evident.
“I'm sorry. McGee....I really...I don't know....It's all my fault.”
“Damn fucking straight its your fault, Foster. You're lucky I'm not dumping your ass out here in the middle of Mexico.” Gibbs nearly shouted from the driver's seat. “I gave you a simple task, but was it too hard to keep two eyes on that girl? You nearly got McGee killed and now that sailor is dead because of you. You're off my team as soon as we get back to Washington and if I have it my way, there won't be a federal agency within the entire country that will hire for so much as a mail-boy after this.”
Still dazed, McGee tried to focus on Ziva as she tended to his various cuts and scrapes, but it was a losing battle against the pain and he gave into the relief unconsciousness gave him once again.
Things were pretty fuzzy after that as he vaguely recalled being taken to a hospital and being treated for some broken ribs and a concussion before they gave him a bunch of medicine. The next thing her knew they were on a plane back to Washington where he slept the entire way back. He sort of remembered Gibbs driving him back to his place after they landed and Tony insisting he take his bed while he took the couch, but his muddled mind wasn't clear until the next day when he found himself tangled up in the sheets of Tony's bed, his side aching and his head pounding away.
Getting up slowly, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Taking a full minute to roll himself out of bed and make his way to the door, Tim walked down the hall, stopping in front of a mirror in the hallway and being shocked at his bruised and swollen face, he looked downright freakish. Holding his side he headed for the entrance of the kitchen slowly as he listened in on the conversation he could hear Gibbs and Tony having.
“So, did they ever find the sailor?” He heard Tony ask.
“Yeah, he was shot in the head, most likely as soon as the warning went out that the raid was coming their way. The Mexican army was able to capture most of the gang, including that Felipe guy. And Lucia, our girl with the beeper, has disappeared into their custody too, but I don't really give a shit what they do to her or the rest of them.” Tim heard a fist make contact with a hard surface. “Damn! I should have made sure we did a more thorough search of her when she first got in the van.”
“But if Foster had kept his attention on the girl like he was supposed to she never would have had the chance....”
Tim took that moment to finally cross the corner into the kitchen and join the other two in the room.
“What's going on?” He asked.
“Hey, sleeping beauty...'bout time you woke up.” Tony greeted him from the table with his usual grin, his foot propped up on another chair as a bowl of cereal grew soggy before him. Tim recalled then the events from the last couple of days and bit down a groan as he walked in.
“Sit McGee.” Gibbs put down his coffee mug and ordered from the other end of the kitchen as he pulled out a white paper bag from the cabinet, dumping out a brown prescription bottle.
Even with his brain working at only a half-speed at the moment, he followed the orders and took up a chair next to Tony, holding his throbbing head in his hands.
“Here, take these, they're for your head and your ribs” Gibbs shook out two pills and handed them to Tim with a glass of water before he poured a bowl of cereal for him and slid it across the table to him. “Here, eat something then go back to bed. Ducky will be by to check on you in a little while and until he says otherwise, you stay in that bed, got it?”
“Sure, Boss.” Weakly, McGee responded automatically, even though the whole idea of staying in the Senior agent's home for any length of time was somewhat surreal to him.
Without another word, Gibbs headed for the door and out into the pre-dawn morning mist. Tony grabbed his crutches and made to follow him, but stopped before he reached the door and turned around, his expression serious for once.
“Just so you know, Probie...The whole Mexico thing was a giant SNAFU just waiting to happen and a lot of it's my fault for even even suggesting the plan, but you did okay.... really, you did good and even though Gibbs won't say it, he's proud of you....and....maybe so am I.” Tony turned and left a stunned and confused Tim sitting at the table, wondering when he had stepped into the Twilight Zone, but since neither Gibbs nor Tony were sporting pointy beards, he was at least certain this wasn't an evil alternate reality like the one from Star Trek.
"You can use my bed, Probie," Tony called out as he hobbled out the door without turning around. "but touch my TV and you die.”
Despite his pain and tiredness, Tim grinned a little until he heard Gibbs' car pull away.
OOOOOOOOOO
Six months later:
Aaron looked over the last of his full clips on the bed and the other assorted items he would need. He had plenty of ammunition.
He was ready.
Looking back on that night in Mexico, he focused his rage again on DiNozzo once again, the man had been all he could focus on since he was disgraced. After all, it had been that man's idea to send McGee in as bait, not his. Why was he taking all of the blame for what went wrong?
Because of that cocky agent and his plan, he was kicked off of Gibbs' team. Because of him, Aaron found his only solace was in drinking, just like his father had when his life had fallen apart. And now, because of DiNozzo, his career, his life was in ruins and he had become the kind of person he had hated the most all of his life: a drunk, worthless man just like his father.
But he wasn't going to let it end this way.
He'd get his vengence.
He knew how to get at DiNozzo. He'd done his research.
He grabbed the open bottle of tequila on the nightstand and swallowed a large mouthful, letting it burn its way down his throat and into his stomach, bringing him the only warmth he could seem to find these days. Carefully, he packed up his weapons in his duffel bag and headed for the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Loading up his car with the last of his personal possessions, Aaron climbed into the driver's seat and drove off hastily towards his intended destination: Long Island, New York.
TBC.....
The T.A.D. by Angie