The Life Of The Daughter Of NCIS

Chapter 20: Suicide Mission

Gibbs

4:37

Those angry, red numbers glared at me from the alarm clock, I sighed, and turned over.

I quickly realised that I wasn't going to sleep now. I got up and changed, then prepared my gun.

Then, with a cold cup of coffee, I watched the sky gradually turn lighter. The clock didn't get a chance to chime at five, as I slapped it as soon as the digits changed. I rummaged through my backpack until I found what I was looking for, I twirled the cream coloured card between my fingers before slotting it between two glasses; it was addressed to my team.

There was a different person manning the front desk, I guess the morning worker and night worker had already swapped over, I handed over my keys and said thank you before walking out into the small parking lot. The sky was a purplish blue, streaked with a blush like pink, the sun was just starting to peak from behind the horizon. I jumped into the military truck and the old, reliable diesel engine rumbled into life.

The roads had nothing but desert like spaces bordering either side, occasionally small settlements made of corrugated iron shacks broke the barren land, it was easy to lose your focus and let your mind wander. Which is exactly what I did.

Absentmindedly, I indicated off of the slip road and onto the highway, where I returned to my thoughts.

I've haven't been this scared since- well- Azalea was five, it was at three a'clock in the morning and she was running a temperature of 105.

A high-pitched scream shattered my sleep, causing me to sit bolt upright, instinctively snatching the gun from the bedside drawer. Another scream ricocheted from the room at the end of the hall.

My adrenaline kicked in. I launched forward, grabbing the clip of bullets from a high shelf- where I had been keeping them- out of the reach of Azalea, so she couldn't hurt herself. I pulled the safety off as I ran down the hallway.

There was no intruder in Az's bedroom, she was asleep, thrashing around in her bed, in the grips of another night terror. I placed the gun on a shelf, making sure to put the safety back on, and made my way over to the bed. I squatted down and gently patted her arm, I pulled my hand away quickly, her arm felt boiling hot. I scanned her face, a light sheen of sweat had begun to cling to her upper lip and around her hairline.

Concerned, I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead, she was burning up. I began to panic. Az didn't seem to be able to focus on me, her eyes kept rolling to the back of her head before closing, and she was shivering uncontrollably despite being wrapped up in a duvet and blankets.

I called the one person I could trust, the first time it rang to voicemail but the second time on the second ring the older man picked up. "Jethro." Ducky mumbled "is everything okay?" He asked, "no Duck. Azzie's burning up, she's shivering, she can't seem to focus." I listed, not ceasing my check up. "Jethro, calm down." The ME ordered, I took a deep breath and made a 'uhuh' sound "you'll need to give me an accurate temperature, I'm getting ready to leave now, stay on the phone." Ducky instructed, as wind made a harsh scream at the other end.

I went to leave for the bathroom, but a small cry kept me back, Az reached her arms up before dropping them moments later, as if the action was too much effort.

I pulled her into my arms and she immediately wrapped herself around me, burying her burning face into my neck, I covered her with a blanket as her whole body was shuddering involuntarily, she turned around and grabbed her German Shepherd teddy from the bed.

I took Azalea to the bathroom and propped her against me as I searched one-handedly through the cupboard under the sink. Eventually, I pulled out a digital thermometer, I prodded it into her mouth and she whimpered slightly as the cold metal pressed against her tongue, I began to rub circles with my thumb on Azzie's forehead to try and soothe her. She looked up with me with fear filled her eyes, and it felt like I was being sucker punched in the face, repeatedly.