The Promise

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Tony's POV

    "What's going on?" The director asks.

    "We got an encrypted email from Novikov. He said it's for all of us," Gibbs answers as he, Ducky, and Abby enter MTAC.

    "Got it ready?" He asks and McGee nods.

    "Yeah, here goes us not losing everything," he says as he opens it. It opens and reroutes to a feed.

    "How do you know?" A man's voice says near the camera. Novikov turns and smiles.

    "Because they are curious," he answers. "Hello, agents."

    In the background we can see another man at a table, Erin laying on it with her arms at her sides, straps hanging all around the table.

    "She's alive," Abby says. I swallow the lump in my throat as I sit and watch the feed.

    "I've had you gathered here for your beloved friend's last words. Shall, we begin?" He asks and turns towards the table.

    "My love, please," he calls beckoning a hand towards Erin laying on the table. Erin moves slowly, her hands grasp the edges of table. She tries to lift herself, but she struggles and falls back against the metal. A clang echoes through the room.

    "McGee can you trace where the video is coming from?" The director asks. McGee shakes his head.

    "It's pinging all around the world, there's no way to track it," he answers.

    "Come on," the man at the table says and lifts Erin's legs off the table and turns them over the edge. Erin groans as the man pushes her further and she falls over the edge onto the ground with a loud thud and another groan.

    "Please, give her time. It is her last walk after all," Novikov answers.

    The man looks up at him and grimaces.

    "Face recognition confirms that it is Novikov and that this man is Timofei Aksyonov, a well known associate of Novikov's," Radner says from beside McGee at the computers.

    Erin begins to move and slowly push herself up.

    "Oh my God," the director says as Erin pulls herself up and stands. We finally see the condition of her body and face. The right side of her face is puffy, her forehead busted on the left corner, a busted and bruised lip. Dark bruises around her neck, the bottom half of her shirt is missing and there are cuts and slices all over her skin, over her arms, abdomen, chest. She's not wearing the slacks she'd been wearing when she was taken, her legs are covered in bruises and cuts as well. There's dried blood and a crusty substance all over her. Her feet are bare and dirty; she stands with the table's support.

    "Come and sit," Novikov says, a sick smile on his face. Erin looks at him then to the chair that looks to be ten feet away.

    She takes a cautious step away from the table, her grip tight on the edge of the slab.

    "Come," Novikov calls again. She releases the table and stands on her own, her body wavering side to side.

    "That's a good girl."

    She walks slowly, carefully across the room. It's a slow journey, but she finally makes it and falls into the seat with a deep, shaky sigh. My chest hurts and I release my breath.

    "So, let us begin your final will and testament," Novikov says. Erin sighs and shakes her head.

    "I can't," she says.

    "You will or they will die. I will keep you alive just to see it," he says. "Now, begin." She shakes her head again. His hand strikes her face and she whimpers. "Now," he says once more. Erin cries, her hand rising to touch her cheek gently. He raises his hand once more and she shrinks back in her chair.

    "Okay, okay. I'll do it, just please. No more." He smirks and lowers his hand.

    "Everyone this is my fault, do you understand? No one else's. If this is how it ends. It was meant to be." She pauses. "I did this, all of it. I never should have done what I did six years ago, I shouldn't have put you all through that."

    "Tell them your last words," Novikov says.

    Erin stares up at him, tears streaming down her face. She slowly shakes her head, her eyes shut. Novikov pulls out a gun from behind his back, pointing it at Erin's head.

    "Tell them," he says, his voice firm. She opens her eyes and stares at him.

    "Jenny, thank you. Thank you for being the mother I needed when mine was gone. You've done more than enough for me, you let me come back after all that's happened. Ducky, you were right. Ducks can fly up to three hundred and thirty-two miles a day, I guess I do owe you that twenty bucks," she says a sad smile on her red lips. Novikov lowers the gun.

    "Tim, you were the best brother a girl could have. I know because Sarah told me when we had that sleepover at your apartment and you went to go get take out for us. Ziva, remember that you're not alone. Your family is not only in Israel, but around you. You just have to keep ahold of that and you'll make it through anything. Abby, try not to drink so much caffeine, okay? You already drive Gibbs crazy, he doesn't need another jumping bean popping around, but then maybe he does. Gibbs, you're the father I never got to have. You took me in when you didn't have to, you raised me for the last few years of my life when you didn't have to. You built a boat for me," she swallows, "I believe you when you say it was one of the best you'd ever built." She stops and bites her lip.

    "Don't forget Agent DiNozzo," Novikov says. Erin's tears fall more and she shudders.

    "Tony," her voice breaks. "I love you, the entire time I was away I never stopped thinking about you. I'm sorry for what I've done to you. I'm sorry that I broke your heart, and I'm sorry that we never had that beautiful wedding in Berryville or that honeymoon in Cape Cod but I will hold you to your promise."

    "Well, that was very touching. Perhaps we should get on with this final act of courtesy, say goodbye," he says as he aims the gun.

    "Wait, she said she will hold me to my promise," I say.

    "Is that all?" Novikov asks. Erin's eyes close and her head lowers.

    Gibbs stands and moves closer to the screen.

    "What was your promise?" McGee asks.

    "That we would get married there, she's faking it."

    A scuffle from the screen shows Erin reaching out and hitting Novikov and reaching for the weapon in his hand.

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