Flames Burn Out
- Chapter 2: The Question of the Past -
The ground was cold beneath her bare skin. The weight on top of her was painful, and she wanted to fight back. Her body had abandoned her though; it would not do as she pleaded. She saw the knife and hoped it would only be to disfigure and not to kill. Though the pain in her abandon was enough for her to welcome death. She felt the blade connect her with back, it dug into her skin and she felt the warm blood seep down. He dropped the blade by her side and disappeared as voices came nearer. She knew it was not the voice of her lover, a lover she so desperately wished she'd been with instead of this monster.
The voices around her grew and were panicked but none were the voice she so desperately needed to hear. She heard sirens and felt people touching her, helping her this time, not hurting her. She knew she was being taken to a hospital. She let the pain overtake her this once and when she came to again she was in a sterilized white room and an elder woman was standing by her bedside. Not the face she'd wanted to wake up to after having dreamed about it.
"Not to worry little miss," the elder woman comforted in a thick French accent. "Do you have a name?"
"Jen...Jane Cutler."
"Is there someone we should call Miss Cutler?"
"No, no one." A doctor entered and the nurse left. "May I go?"
"Do you know who did this?"
"No."
"You will have a scar but its not life threatening anymore."
"Merci Doctor." She tried to sit and bit back a moan of pain.
"I'm afraid though I have some bad news."
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to tell you..." his words drifted off as she felt her heart splinter. Her one last hope, destroyed. Hours later she slipped into the dark hotel room and changed out of the scrubs tossing them into the roaring fire and jumping in the shower. She crawled into bed and what seemed like only minutes later another joined her.
"You're home late," she said tiredly.
"Work and such, sleep Jen," he comforted.
The tears fell at the remembrance of the embrace she'd slept in that night. Now she was lying on her couch, her head turned in so anyone who entered would not see her tears. She was cold despite the warmth her clothes provided and the heat in the room. She couldn't close her eyes again because all she saw was the knife, felt it digging into her back.
She'd never considered that she was the case, but now she knew. Three women, likely more were dead because they had the misfortune to look like her. How is this going to be fixed? Everyone will know. And it wasn't everyone she was worried about. Leroy Jethro Gibbs would surely notice her behavior and would soon learn of her betrayal. She trusted Gibbs, knew he would never intentionally hurt her, but at this moment she didn't want to be anywhere near him. Too fresh were the memories of that night, and what she had used to survive it. Wishing she were dead, giving that bastard exactly what he wanted and dreaming about the man she loved.
She brushed the tears off her face and curled up tighter hearing her door handle turn. Perhaps its Cynthia, but she knew from the heavy breathing and tension that it was Gibbs. She lay still hoping to fool him into thinking she was asleep and waited for him to come closer. He hadn't moved from the door but she heard it close. There were faint hesitant footsteps toward the couch and she felt him lean over her slightly. He exhaled, in what she thought was relief and it dawned on her then why he would be worried. The position she was in was identical to the victims. Could I be anymore cruel? Whatever his feelings for her, she knew beyond a doubt that he did not wish her dead.
"Jen," he called softly. "Jen, wake up." She stirred slowly.
"What is it, Jethro?"
"The case," he answered. She sat up and he backed away. "We found more victims."
"How many?" He looked away and she knew he didn't want her to know, but she was not about to be left out of this one. "How many Jethro?"
"Nine, all over," he answered surprised at her tone. Gibbs watched as she stood and moved toward her desk putting distance between them.
"Nine women dead and no one saw similarities?"
"Eight."
"You just said there were nine, now there's eight, which is it?" She demanded.
"Nine raped, one lived. The first one as far as we can tell survived," he explained.
"Well go find her then," she said.
"I can't."
"Can't? I didn't think that was in your vocabulary," she tried to tease but even to her own ears it sounded flat and he gave her a hard stare.
"We need clearance to access the name."
"From who?"
"The French Authorities."
"French?" Jenny echoed, she didn't like where this was going.
"The first victim was in Paris, 1999." He watched Jenny curiously, her face went pale and he was worried for a second she might faint.
"I'll see what I can do, but they may want to protect her, god knows who were dealing with."
"Fine." She took her seat and turned her head toward him, as he hadn't moved.
"Was there anything else Agent Gibbs?" She asked in her best Director voice.
"Yes actually, you ever been to Russia?" She raised an eyebrow at the question, hadn't she been there with him?
"You sure you remember everything after the explosion?" She inquired.
"Yes why?"
"I was in Russia, with you."
"Serbia isn't Russia and I meant after 1999."
"We were in St. Petersburg as well," she reminded. "And yes I was in Ekatenburg maybe 2000, only for a month."
"Remember when?"
"Winter," she guessed.
"February sound right?" She thought back and nodded, it had been the first Valentine's Day without him. These thoughts are not helping, she chastised herself. "How about Miami?"
"Miami, Florida?"
"Yes, ever been there?"
"Lots of times, 2003 was the last." He nodded and she could hear the wheels turning in his brain. "There a reason you want to know my travel history?"
"Curiosity," he answered. She looked away, don't buy that for a second, she thought. She considered her options. He can stay here and drive me nuts or... I could make him do the work himself. She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a file folder holding it out for him to take. "What's this?"
"If you're so curious, you can read it all for yourself," she snapped. "And leave me to do some work!"
"And that Paris case?"
"I'll work on it, but don't expect a miracle." He moved toward the door and turned back.
"Jen?" She titled her head but didn't look up. "You all right?"
"Fine Jethro," she responded slightly irritated. She didn't look up and he left closing the door behind him. He had been tempted to brush of her red puffy eyes as just waking up but he knew better, she'd been crying. It has to be the case, he rationalized. She hadn't been like this yesterday, sure she was still Jenny, and she was just acting weird especially around him. He moved down the stairs to the squad room and saw Ziva and Tony getting off the elevator bickering.
"The evidence down with Abby?" Gibbs demanded.
"Bagged, tagged, and sorted Boss," Tony responded moving to his desk.
"Ziva this is a list of all the attacks that we have information about, compare it to this," she ordered handing her a sheet of paper and the file folder. Ziva opened it and steeled her emotions.
"Uh Gibbs..."
"Did I stutter Officer David?" She turned back to her desk and began work. "DiNozzo move it!" Gibbs went toward autopsy.
"On your six Boss." Ziva watched the two leave and began to compare the files. She became concerted as the cases matched up to the places listed in the Director's file. It appeared that victims changed as she did in appearance and appeared typically a few weeks after she settled in the area. She really didn't want to be the one to tell her friend this, but knew she should. She compared the earlier DC cases to the folder but stopped as she noticed the exact date. The first was the night after Ari had been shot and Agent Todd's funeral, the victim had been killed just ten miles from NCIS. She looked at the next date, the day hope had returned. It was the day after Gibbs had woken up from his coma. Jenny hadn't left Bethesda the entire time and this victim was killed just five miles away. She pulled up the newspaper online and saw in the back a picture of Jenny and one of Gibbs together, it was the story from the super soldier case, she wasn't sure when the picture had been taken, but there it was. That's one pattern, maybe, she thought.
The only victim that didn't fit was the first one. She knew it was toward the end of Jenny's partnership with Gibbs and thus toward the end of her stay in Paris, not near the beginning. If this is happening because of Jenny, then why wait... unless... She glanced at the clock and knew Gibbs would busy for the next half hour and she really only needed ten minutes to get Jenny to talk. She slowly moved up the stairs taking her notes and the folder with her. She knocked and waited for the faint answer before entering.
"Ziva, what can I do for you?" Jenny asked trying to sound somewhat happy. Ziva placed the file down on the desk.
"Gibbs is done with this," she answered, Jenny nodded.
"Should I even ask?" Her voice sounded defeated.
"Jenny, they're perfect matches, all but the first."
"The one who lived," she responded bitterly. Ziva nodded apologetically.
"Jenny we've been friends a long time now and you know I don't ask about the past but..."
"Ziva what is this terrible question?" Jenny inquired trying to lift her spirits. The younger woman sat down in one of the chairs.
"Do you remember what day you got off the plane, in Paris?" Jenny froze. That is not supposed to be common knowledge.
"How do you know about that?"
"When you were kidnapped, you told Gibbs you wanted your coat," she reminded. "He said you left it on a plane, my guess is with a letter inside, but that is irrelevant and no one else thinks it."
"It was the end of October."
"After this first victim then," Ziva informed. "You wouldn't happen to remember what you were doing toward the end of September, would you?"
"Fighting."
"With Gibbs?"
"We both stormed out one night, didn't see him till the next night. We worked it out but it just wasn't enough. He had to finish some work, I wanted to surprise him, but it was just...it didn't work out."
"Jenny I've read your file and I was there when you had that bullet extracted in Cairo. I know things that I bet he does not even suspect," she said gently. Jenny stood and looked toward the window. She was well aware Ziva knew secrets about her that no one else did.
"Ziva this is..."
"Not your fault," she assured. "Jenny if you tell me you're the first victim, I'll take it to the grave."
"He's gotten you to talk before."
"Not about you, never about you, and he's tried."
"Hard?"
"He's subtle, but good. I will not tell him Jenny, you have my word, but he's worried about you. He will be able to piece it together," Ziva answered. She stood beside her friend and watched the harbor. "And if he does there might always be something he doesn't know, a loss you would take with you to the grave just to spare him that pain again."
"We never...because I could surprise him we just drifted apart and he tried, but I was so scared he would find out and now look at us," Jenny sighed. Even if she had been the one to say no to the 'outside of work' she knew it was not what she wanted.
"You know what I see?" Jenny glanced over. "Two people who are so afraid that by being around the other they'll drive them away. You've played the game long enough, you both have. The risk game is life, yes?"
"Risk is the game of life," Jenny laughed softly. Ziva rolled her eyes before turning toward the door.
"Just think about it." She shut the door behind her and went to the elevator and down to autopsy to catch up with Gibbs. She found him and Tony listening to Ducky's explanation with Palmer standing by. It was Ducky who noticed her first and greeted her.
"Ziva."
"Sorry to interrupt Ducky."
"Not a problem my dear, I was just finishing."
"You got something yet?" Gibbs questioned.
"Perfect match, all but the Paris case. Follows the same pattern till the DC cases, the pattern changes slightly."
"How so?"
"Every time it seems there's been a more...public appearance with a specific person there's a victim, but it could just be a coincidence," Ziva tried to rationalize. "I returned the file and spoke with the Director, she couldn't get clearance for the name." Well one tiny white lie won't hurt.
"Well then Probie can do it," Tony suggested. Gibbs simply walked off and the two hurried to catch up saying goodbye to Ducky. They slid into the elevator and found interesting spots on the wall to stare at, they remained completely silent, and Gibbs was pissed. They got off at the lab and followed Gibbs in and waited for Abby to turn the music down.
"Gibbs!" She exclaimed. "I don't have anything yet, samples are still running."
"You found DNA?" Ziva asked.
"No semen, the guy defiantly used a condom but I found some hairs one had a tiny bit of the bulb, I tried to get the DNA off but we'll see."
"McGee you think you can get into the French Authorities Archives?"
"Already did, Boss," McGee stated proudly. "The photos have been deleted but I got a name, a Jane Cutler and it says she..." McGee fell silent as Gibbs stormed out. The team watched as he threw the coffee cup forcibly against the wall and stepped into the elevator.
"He's going to MTAC," Abby announced pulling up the electronics for the building. The team stared at each other unsure how to process the display of temper.
"Maybe he and the Director knew her in Paris," McGee suggested. Ziva noticed Tony's mulling over that idea before starring at the screen.
"Tony?" She questioned worried.
"The Director used that name once, I asked her where it came from but she said it was need to know," he explained.
"You don't think," Abby trailed off. Tony nodded slightly. "But Gibbs was with her!" Tony held the stares from his teammates. "Well it's easy to find out, Ziva, does she have a scar down her back?"
"She's worn dresses with open backs," McGee reminded. "Like the Marine Corp Birthday ball one."
"Makeup can hide a multitude of sins."
"So she has scars?" Abby concluded.
"I've never seen one like it, but then again I've never seen her bare back."
"Well they were together in Paris, so Gibbs would know," Abby summarized.
"Unless it was after they broke up," Tony replied. They were nods all around and Tony sighed. "I suppose here is the safest place to be for now?"
"Probably," Ziva agreed.