Chapter 34 – The Weight of Years
Secret Delta Force Base – Iraq – December 2014
The distant sound of helicopters echoed through the night sky as Jason Gibbs sat on the edge of a Humvee, gazing at the desert illuminated only by moonlight.
He was exhausted.
Not physically. His body was used to the weight of combat.
But his mind… that was at war with itself.
Twenty-two years.
That was the time he had dedicated to the shadows, to combat, to missions the government would never admit to.
Twenty-two years killing ghosts before they could haunt America.
And now… he was thinking of stopping.
The leader of A-Squad, Scott "Hawk" Brennan, approached, sitting down beside Jason.
He held a Cuban cigar between his fingers, which he slowly spun, but never lit.
"You're acting strange, Gibbs."
Jason didn't answer immediately.
Hawk waited. He knew when a man was fighting an internal battle.
Finally, Jason spoke.
"I'm thinking about retiring."
Hawk raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem surprised.
"Twenty-two years. That's the limit of what a man can give to this kind of work."
Jason continued staring at the desert.
"Delta has always been all I've known. But I'm tired, Hawk. The world always needs us… but I don't know if I still want to be needed."
Hawk nodded slowly.
"And Ziva?"
Jason took a deep breath.
"She's one of the reasons. I want to see where this leads. But mostly… I want to discover who I am without this life."
Hawk smiled slightly.
"I've seen this happen before. You still have some gas left in you, Gibbs. But there's something else calling you."
Jason turned his head toward him.
— And you? When are you going to stop?
Hawk gave a short laugh.
— Me? They'll probably carry me out of this place in a black bag.
Jason laughed, but he knew Hawk was serious.
Later that night, Jason picked up his satellite phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.
Washington, D.C. – NCIS Headquarters
On the other end of the line, his father answered after the first ring.
— Gibbs.
Jason smiled slightly.
— I expected something warmer, Dad.
— If you called me, you're either dying or you want to talk. So, talk.
Jason took a deep breath.
— I'm thinking about retiring.
There was a pause.
— It's about time.
Jason raised an eyebrow.
— Is that all you have to say?
— You've already made your decision. I don't need to say anything.
Jason chuckled softly through his nose.
"So… do you think I can live a normal life?"
On the other end, Gibbs was silent for a moment before answering.
"I haven't managed it yet. But maybe you can."
Jason became thoughtful.
"What if I mess up? What if I don't know how to live outside of this?"
Gibbs spoke firmly.
"You adapt. That's what I did when your mother died. That's what I did when I joined NCIS. That's what I did when Kate died. You think you can't live without war… until you realize you can."
Jason closed his eyes.
"I'll call you when I get back."
Gibbs didn't ask when that would be.
He simply replied with a:
"I'll be here."
The Last Mission Before the Decision
Jason knew he wouldn't leave immediately.
He had one more mission ahead of him.
And then… he would make his final decision. But deep down, he already knew the answer.
It was time to discover who he was outside of the war.
It was time to live.
Chapter 35 – The Final Formation
Fort Bragg, North Carolina – 2015
The sky over Fort Bragg was clear, a deep, cloudless blue. The sun shone on the parade ground, reflecting off the immaculate row of navy uniforms.
In the center, standing at attention, was Jason Gibbs.
Sergeant Major Jason Gibbs.
The man who had spent more than two decades serving in the shadows, hunting unseen enemies, leading operations that would never be publicly acknowledged.
And now… he was ready to say goodbye.
The Formation
Before him stood high-ranking Army officers, Special Forces members, JSOC commanders, representatives from the CIA, NSA, and FBI.
People who knew his name.
People who knew exactly what he had done for the country.
In the middle of the crowd, his father, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and Ziva David stood, watching him with different, but equally intense, gazes. Gibbs, with his hands in the pockets of his dark suit jacket, maintained a firm expression.
Ziva, wearing an elegant black coat, held her hands discreetly in front of her body.
Jason didn't look at them.
Not yet.
He kept his eyes fixed ahead, spine straight, chin raised.
Because this was his final moment as a soldier.
And he would honor it to the last second.
General David L. Berger, commander of JSOC, walked slowly to the podium.
He looked at Jason before beginning to speak.
— Today, we bid farewell to one of the greatest warriors to ever serve under this flag.
The crowd remained in absolute silence.
— Sergeant Major Jason Gibbs not only wore this uniform, he embodied everything it means to be a Special Forces operator. He was the tip of the spear. The soldier who faced the most impossible missions and returned, always bringing his men back.
Jason felt a tightness in his chest.
"From the depths of Bosnia to the devastated streets of Iraq, from the mountains of Afghanistan to the shadows of Syria, Gibbs was there. He eliminated threats before they could even reach our soil."
The general paused, looking directly at Jason.
"And today, he hangs up his uniform with honor. With pride. And with the respect of all who had the privilege of fighting alongside him."
The crowd erupted in applause.
Jason remained motionless.
But he felt the weight of the moment.
General Berger stepped forward, holding a polished wooden plaque, with a folded flag and several medals.
"Jason Gibbs, it is an honor to present you with this flag, in the name of a country you dedicated your life to protecting."
Jason stepped forward, picked up the flag, and held it against his chest.
"Thank you, sir."
The general nodded.
"You will always have a place among us."
Jason gave a perfect salute.
The general returned the salute.
And then… it was done.
Jason Gibbs was no longer an active soldier.
After the ceremony, Jason walked across the empty field, his impeccable uniform contrasting with the dust of the ground.
Then, he saw the two of them waiting.
Gibbs, with that silent and intense look.
Ziva, with eyes shining with something he couldn't quite identify.
He stopped before them.
Silence hung between father and son.
Then, Gibbs extended his hand.
Jason shook it firmly.
"Congratulations, son."
Jason gave a wry smile.
"You were never good with words, Dad."
Gibbs chuckled softly through his nose.
"I don't need to be."
Jason understood.
Then he looked at Ziva.
She studied him, crossing her arms.
"And now? What will you do without the war?"
Jason smiled slightly.
"I don't know yet."
She tilted her head.
"Maybe you need a new challenge."
Jason raised an eyebrow.
"Are you volunteering to be that challenge?"
Ziva smiled.
"Maybe."
Gibbs rolled his eyes discreetly.
Jason laughed.
"Well, then I guess I'll find out."
Jason looked at Fort Bragg one last time.
This place had been his home for decades.
But now… it was time to move on.
He took a deep breath and walked alongside Gibbs and Ziva, ready to find out what came next.
And for the first time in years… he felt free.
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