Paralyzed - Chapter 3This is a featured page

Disclaimer: *sobs* Still not mine.

Author's Note: Okay, so the last chapter was kind of written at random and I really had no idea where I was going with it. This is more of one of those stories to get the creative juices flowing. But as I typed out this chapter (and the next) I have a feeling that a more structured plot is coming along nicely. Please bare with me as I sort of throw character around a bit. Also, to those I told that this chapter was being published yesterday- I'm sorry, I got delayed again! Now it's here, and the next is almost done.

“What do you mean they're gone?” Director Jenny Shepard demanded fiercely over the phone.

Jenny did not like stressful phone calls. They generally lead to more stress and that put the director in a bad mood. When she was in a bad mood, she got snappy. That was never good for anyone at NCIS. She tapped her nails against her computer's keyboard, listening to the story on the other end of the phone. Her anger was only a mask, hiding the underlying fear that was chewing at her insides like some rabid animal that was slowly losing control.

“When did you notice that they were missing?”

A stubborn sounding voice from the other end of the line answered, “Last night, ma'am.

“Why didn't you call NCIS sooner?!”

They could have been moved to another room, ma'am, and it was late.

Jenny looked down at her expensive silver watch and pinched the bridge of her nose with the hand not holding the phone. Seven o'clock in the morning was too early to be dealing with missing persons. If it were anyone but those on her team, she would have just transferred the call onto someone else. She sighed and barked a couple orders to the poor doctor that had been forced to deal with her at this early hour. She pressed down on the reciever until she heard a dial tone. In a state of eerie calm, she put in the familiar number to call downstairs to the morgue.

“Dr. Mallard speaking,” came the answer.

“Ducky, we have a problem,” Jenny explained.

“Oh, of what sort?”

As if Abby's lab being bombed wasn't problem enough.

“Jethro, Ziva, and Tony are missing.”


“I don't get it. Why abduct them from the hospital? Security's not the issue if they had already gotten in here,” Abby mused, already busy checking the GPS on the missing team members' cell phones.

“Well, Abby, it could have been someone from inside that planted the bomb and couldn't abduct three fully armed adults themselves,” McGee answered. “That would make the hospital an easier target for outside employers considering two out of three were not even conscious.”

They were all gathered around McGee's computer, which Abby had taken control of given the fact she couldn't do muc work in her lab, now a crime scene. Another team had taken over the scene, and given their current situation, with McGee the only field agent remaining, it was probably a good thing. Everything was happening so fast, it was making Abby's head spin. She had managed to hold off another outbreak of tears for the time being.

Ducky stood slightly off to the side, mumbling to himself. He was uncharactaristically upset, having been the last one to see Gibbs and Tony. He had briefly stuck his head in to see Ziva, but she had fallen asleep so Ducky and Abby had departed together, thinking it unwise to disturb her. Palmer stood next to him, unsure whether to comfort him or let the elder mansort out his doubts himself.

“All are possible theories,” Director Shepard said, standing over Abby. She gazed down on the tiny dots showing the location of each cellphone. Two dots, yellow and red, were stationary over the location of the hospital but one dot, blue, was moving slowly north, toward a set of abandoned storage buildings.

“They obviously missed a cellphone,” Palmer commented.

“And now we have a location,” the director said, checking to make sure her gun was loaded.


Gibbs had a headache. He felt as though someone had taken one of his hammers and substituted his head for a nail. It was not exactly a nice feeling. The last thing he remembered was the smell of chlorophorme, the sound of a struggle, and barely being awake longer than a minute. He cursed outloud and blinked his eyes open. There wasn't much to see, except for some empty wooden crates.

By the feel of it, they were in a van or truck of some sort. He could sit up, possibly stand, but it was too hard, the ground being shaky like when in a moving vehicle. The area he was in was small, but Gibbs had the feeling that it was not the whole vehicle. There was some kind of dividers seperating Gibbs from... well, he wasn't sure what he was being seperated from. He wasn't even quite sure why he was in the back of a van.

With a grunt, Gibbs struggled to get his bound hands in front of him. As a child, he had played a game with his friends with only one rule: escape. It also gave them great practice at tying boy scout knots. Gibbs had to admit that it had been easier when he was only eight years old.Gibbs barely managed to loosen the knots before the back doors of the van were thrown open, flooding the small space with a blinding light. His captors roughly pulled him out, giving him a hard smack in the face when they noticed the change in his bonds.

There were four of them, clad in entirely black from head to toe. The one closest to Gibbs had breath smelling of alcohol, foul and sour. He grinned at Gibbs, teeth crooked and blackened. Gibbs was forced forward, toward a large, empty building. It looked like it had once been a factory.

They took Gibbs into the basement, shoving him into a tiny room. Only a chair sat in the middle of the room. When the men left, the door locked with a menacing clunk. No one had said a word. Unusually tired, Gibbs leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. His last thoughts were scattered and unfocused as he drifted off.


Several masked men had taken a severe beating when they opened the doors of a second van, moments after the first one departed again. One man, however, stood triumphantly holding a taser, standing over its target with a toothy smile.

“You won't do that again, lady,” he stated, though it did very little good.Still on the ground, Ziva kicked at his legs, almost pushing them from under him. He was only saved because he managed to pull the trigger on the taser a second time before she managed to put all of her strength into the kick. The strangled, girly scream did not come from her mouth. While she gritted her teeth, Tony struggled against the two men holding his arms. The biggest man, the one with the taser, just laughed.

“You two have a long few days ahead of you.”

The big man had a feeling that it would be difficult to crack through the woman's exterior shell of defense, but the man would be easy. The man wanted information, and he had a feeling that after awhile, the man would not be able to watch his girlfriend suffer.He would talk.


Jenny was most definitely breaking the speed limit on the highway. She did not care in the least and continued on, swearing every time someone cut her off. It was not a very flattering habit, but it was not like anyone was listening in.The warehouses turned out to be farther than they had guessed, but Jenny probably cut the drive time in half. Ziva had taught her well in the art of driving like a lunatic. The warehouses loomed ahead, but then the gate got in the way.

It was a giant wrought iron gate, old fashioned and rather out of place. Jenny cursed again, before noticing the note on the gate. Stepping out of the car to read it, Jenny's face paled.

Director of NCIS,

I knew you would be coming. By now you must have noticed that your agents are not here. That's really too bad. I assure you that they are being taken care of in my custody.If you want to see them alive again, you will make sure that MI6 does not send over anyone. Our battle is with you, not the British.

Have fun.

Jenny looked down at her feet, which had kicked a small silver cellphone out of the way. She had been trapped, and she already knew that there was no chance of keeping away MI6 now.

In other words:

They were screwed.

Author's Note:
So where am I going with this? Well, that may change depending on my mood and how much peril I feel like tossing your favourites into. Feel free to drop ideas on my head and can you readers do me a favour? I personally use very few sayings. I prefer proper English, though I try slang every once in awhile. If you have any sayings you want Ziva to mangle, leave me a PM or review. =D Thanks!

Lim x

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Latest page update: made by limmenel , Aug 6 2009, 3:40 PM EDT (about this update About This Update limmenel Edited by limmenel

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NCIS_Ziva_Abby Great 0 Aug 3 2009, 12:49 PM EDT by NCIS_Ziva_Abby
Thread started: Aug 3 2009, 12:49 PM EDT  Watch
This is very good. I hope to read more, I'm enjoying it. In my fanfics, I like the bad things to happen to my favorite characters also. ;) Great work, please update soon!
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