Jungle Fever (10/10)
Title: Jungle Fever
Author: Calliatra
Rating: FR15
Category: Gen
Pairing: None
Characters: Tony, the whole team
Genre: Casefile
Words: 3,188 (26,461 total)
Disclaimer: All recognizable NCIS characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When a Petty Officer’s decapitated body is found it starts an investigation that spirals out of control and places Tony in grave danger.
Written for the Can Anybody Hear Me? Challenge and the Casefile Challenge at NFA and inspired by the Chinese Whisper Challenge.
Chapter Warnings: Some violence, but nothing you wouldn’t see on the show.
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
* * *
Chapter Nine: A Rescue
“Come on, McGee, we’ve got to work faster!” Abby cried, her fingers moving over the keyboard so fast they were a blur. “We’ve got to crack the phone’s encryption!”
McGee was standing next to her at her computer, his fingers moving equally quickly. “I’m doing my best.”
“Well, you’ve got to do it faster, we both do! Tony’s out there somewhere, in danger. We’ve got to find out where the smugglers had him taken before it’s too late!”
“I know, but I-” The lines of code on the monitor suddenly changed to a welcome screen. “We’re in,” McGee said, hardly daring to believe it.
“But we still have a problem,” Abby informed him, already rooting around in the directory. “He has tons of files. It’ll take forever to look through all of them!”
McGee thought fast. “Tony went missing tonight, so let’s focus first on any files that were created or changed today.”
They both worked feverishly in silence for a while; the only sound besides Abby’s ever-present music their rapid-fire typing.
“McGee, I’ve got something!” Abby called, pulling off the headphones she’d donned to check audio files.
“So do I!”
They looked at each other.
“Call Gibbs!”
*
“Thanks, Abs.” Outside Interrogation, Gibbs closed his cell phone and turned to Fornell, who had been listening in on the call. “You got that?”
“Yeah. Let’s go get ‘em.” Together they entered the room where Abernathy and his lawyer still sat.
“Mr. Abernathy, we’re charging you with illegal wildlife trade,” Fornell said.
“And the murder of a United States Naval Officer,” Gibbs added.
Abernathy looked surprised, but his lawyer quickly jumped in, preventing him from saying anything. “Those allegations are absurd. My client has nothing to do with either.”
Gibbs gave a quick signal to the technician in Observation, and an audio file started playing over the loudspeakers.
Lombard’s voice was clearly distinguishable. “… and Miss Emmons would like a cheetah fur.”
“That could be a problem,” Dawson’s voice said. “We don’t have contacts in the right parts of Africa.”
“I have several friends in South Africa,” Abernathy announced on the tape. “We will contact them. Though of course they won’t want to discuss the more sensitive aspects over such a long distance. Dawson, could you arrange for a fact-finding mission to take you there?”
Abernathy’s lawyer exchanged glances with his client, minutely shaking his head in warning.
“I suppose so. I’ll just have to find a way to get away from my aides long enough to meet with your friends.”
“Good.” Abernathy’s voice was speaking again. “They’ll know where to find experienced hunters that will cross the border to Botswana for us. They will be able to process the fur there, so our only problem will be to find a suitable courier.”
At Gibbs sign, the tape was cut off.
“My client has nothing to say,” Abernathy’s lawyer declared.
“Well, then it’s good that we know enough to do all the talking,” Fornell said. “You really shouldn’t have let your man, Lombard, record your planning sessions. That was careless.”
“Be that as it may, nothing on that tape suggests my client committed murder of any kind.”
“We have proof he had the motive, means, and opportunity to kill Petty Officer Jeffrey Thorne,” Fornell said.
Abernathy stared at him. “I never murdered anyone! I don’t even know who that is.”
His lawyer turned to him. “Don’t say anything more. They won’t be able to prove it.”
“We found the inventory Lombard kept of everything you smuggled into the country,” Fornell told him. “My men also found the secret room in your library where you kept the smuggled goods. Mrs. Crowley’s were still there, since she didn’t have a chance to pick up her ‘order’ yet. But you know what? The inventory says there should be a bottle of croton oil waiting for her, but my men didn’t find one there.”
Abernathy said nothing, and neither did his lawyer.
“We also checked Lombard’s call log,” Fornell continued. “Turns out a few minutes after Commander Nelson called him about Petty Officer Thorne, Lombard made one phone call to an untraceable burn phone.”
“A hit man,” Gibbs clarified.
“The only other time he called that number was right after Agent DiNozzo lost contact with us,” Fornell said.
“You knew Thorne was dangerous to your operation,” Gibbs growled. “So you hired a killer to poison him.”
“And when you noticed that Talley - Agent DiNozzo - had seen too much, you handed him to the killer, too.” Fornell added.
“Now wait just one second!” Abernathy said angrily.
“Don’t say anything,” his lawyer told him.
“No,” Abernathy insisted, “I will not be accused of murder! I have never heard of your petty officer before, I have no idea who that might be and I certainly didn’t kill him!”
“They don’t have any proof,” his lawyer tried to console him. “It’s all circumstantial.”
“There is no proof,” Abernathy almost shouted, “because I never ordered anyone to be killed! Not the petty officer and definitely not DiNozzo. Yes, all right, I knew he was a federal agent, but by the time I had found that out he had already left! I never had a chance to confront him, let alone hand him to a killer! I am not a murderer!”
Gibbs gazed intensely at the man for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and left the interrogation room. After one last glance at Abernathy, Fornell followed him.
*
“Where is DiNozzo?” Gibbs roared at Lombard, his fists on the interrogation room table and his face within inches of the other man’s.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lombard said with an admirable attempt at defiance, which of course stood no chance against the might of Gibbs fury.
“We decrypted your phone,” Fornell told him. “We know all about the wildlife smuggling, and we have enough to pin you for the murder of Petty Officer Thorne. And we have enough on your employers, too, so don’t expect them to be able to get you a lighter sentence. The only way to help yourself is to tell us where Agent DiNozzo is.”
“I don’t-” Lombard began.
“If DiNozzo dies,” Gibbs growled in his face, “I will make sure you’re tried in Virginia. Killing a federal agent will get you the death penalty.”
“He’s right,” Fornell said. “And Virginia has the highest execution rate in the US. If you want to avoid death row tell us where to find Agent DiNozzo before it’s too late.”
Lombard gulped and took a deep breath. “Okay, okay, I’ll cooperate.”
“Where is DiNozzo?” Gibbs hissed.
“I don’t know.”
Gibbs strode towards the door. “Well, you had your chance,” Fornell said, turning to follow him.
“Wait!” Lombard called. “I really don’t know where he is! But I’ll tell you everything else I know!”
The two agents turned back to face him. “Who did you hire?” Fornell asked.
“Jason. My brother Jason has him.” Lombard said breathlessly.
“You don’t have a brother,” Fornell interrupted him. He knew all the files on the triumvirate practically by heart.
“My stepbrother. Jason Kendall.”
“Where is he?” Gibbs ground out.
“I swear I don’t know. He’s wanted in Maine for murder and he’s on the run. He came to me last week, and I gave him cash, but I didn’t want to know where he was staying or where he was going. I did give him a burn phone, though, just in case. Then, when Commander Nelson called to warn about Thorne, I called Jason. The ‘triumvirate’ always pretend they’re not doing anything wrong, they’re just circumventing moralistic trade laws. Well, that’s because I do all the dirty work. So I called Jason and told him there was someone I needed to get rid of. I gave him the croton oil, too.”
Fornell glanced at Gibbs. They definitely had Lombard for Thorne’s murder now.
“And then, when today I caught your agent snooping I knocked him out and I called Jason,” Lombard continued. “I just told him to take care of it, I really don’t know how he’s going to do it, or where!”
Gibbs was livid. “How do we find him?”
“I don’t know! But you’re the FBI, can’t you trace his cell phone?”
*
“I’m sorry, Boss, but the cell phone’s turned off. There’s no way to trace it,” McGee said, trying not to panic. It looked like they had just lost their last chance of finding Tony.
“Abby?” Gibbs was as desperate as they all were.
She shook her head. “There’s already a BOLO out on Jason Kendall, he’s wanted in connection with three murders. He’s going to be hiding out of sight. The only other thing I had was the dark van, but that was a total bust. It belongs to the FBI, they were on the way to some kind of drug bust. I’ve got nothing, Gibbs.”
This was it, McGee realized. They had no more cards up their sleeves. They knew who the killer was and why he was killing, but none of that did them any good because they couldn’t find him, couldn’t get to him in time. Tony was going to die.
At that moment, Jimmy burst through the door. “Agent Gibbs!” he panted. “I think I have a clue.”
Gibbs’ glare prompted him to continue right away. “I was looking through the stomach content analysis Abby sent, and I noticed that almost everything the squirrel’s been eating has a very high lead content.” Gibbs intensified glare caused him to stumble over a few words, but he bravely kept on going. “The, uh, I mean, what that means is that wherever the squirrel was living the ground probably has lead contamination.”
“Abby, check the warehouse where we found Thorne!” Ziva called in sudden realization.
“What? Why?” Abby asked, nevertheless already typing the right commands.
“You said Thorne was brought there in a wheelbarrow! We thought the killer only used it to get the body from the van to the warehouse, but if the van wasn’t the killer’s-”
“He could have come from nearby!” Abby completed the thought. “If he was in one of the other warehouses, he could have used the wheelbarrow to quickly move the body without anyone seeing him.”
“It makes sense,” McGee said. “He’s on the run, he can’t risk being seen, so hiding out in an old warehouse where there are almost no people around is perfect. He’s probably one of the homeless living there!”
“Found it!” Abby cried. “There’s a lead contamination in the southeast area of the warehouse complex. The only thing there is an abandoned underground storage!”
“That’s where Tony is!” McGee exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
“I’ll send the coordinates to your GPS!” Abby called after the agents who has already rushed out the door.
*
The light bulb above him had gone out, plunging Tony into blackness again. He felt like he had been there for an eternity, but in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. The sky was still velvety darkness. The box with the now dead squirrel was also still there, a warning of what was to come. But Tony had never been one to accept fate lying down, literally in this case.
Since his captor had left, Tony had been tugging at the ropes binding his hands and feet together. The one around his wrists wouldn’t budge, though Tony had earned some definite rope burn for his efforts. The one around his ankles, however, had started to give just a little bit.
Tony twisted and turned and wiggled his feet, scraping his bare back along the rough floor until he finally found the position that seemed to maximize the give. Then he tugged at it, trying to pull his feet apart, to stretch the rope. Bit by slow bit he managed to get his feet more wiggle room until finally he thought he had enough to slip a foot out of the binding.
At that moment, a squeak announced the return of the killer and Tony lay still, trying to conceal his efforts. There was the click of the light switch and suddenly the bulb was on again. Squinting, Tony saw his captor approach and lean over the box with the dead squirrel. In his hand he held a large knife. In one swift movement, he severed the squirrel’s head from its body. Tony remembered it was the same thing he had done to the other squirrel, and then Thorne.
“Now isn’t that better?” he killer asked. “Before, it could have just been sleeping, but now you can see it’s dead. I like it that way, it’s like checking something off a list. Check, that’s done.”
“Is that why you dumped the body the way you did?” Tony asked, playing for time, “To show everyone that you’d finished with Thorne?”
The killer ignored the question completely and pulled the now familiar small bottle from his pocket. “It’s your turn now,” he said almost cheerfully. He leaned forward, opening the bottle and preparing to pour it into Tony’s mouth. Tony clenched his jaw and slowly shimmied his foot through the tangle of rope.
The killer laughed. “The other one tried that, too, you know,” and for a second Tony thought he’d seen the loosened rope, but then the man continued. “I’ll get you to open up, there’s really no point in refusing.” Tony managed to get a deep breath in before the killer pinched his nose shut. At the same time, he managed to slide his right foot out of the rope.
In one swift movement he rolled himself onto his side towards the killer and thrust his right knee upward, hitting the killer’s knee from behind and sending him toppling to the ground. The bottle of croton oil fell and Tony hissed at the intense burn as some of it splashed onto his bare chest. He didn’t have time to think about it, though.
The killer was getting back to his feet, his knife now in his left hand. The right one he was cradling close to his body, it had obviously gotten a full dose of the croton oil. Making use of that fact, Tony kicked out, hitting the injured hand and making the killer involuntarily jerk backwards, falling back on the ground. He kept his grip on the knife, however.
Tony rolled onto his back, trying to get to his feet, but the killer was already at his side again, raising the knife. Tony twisted his body out of the way, but felt a stinging in his left arm that meant he hadn’t twisted far enough. There was a roaring noise and bright white light suddenly streamed through the room. Then the pain hit Tony full force, robbing him of his breath for the crucial second the killer needed to straddle his legs. With loud thudding ringing in his ears, Tony watched helplessly as the killer raised the knife.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a gunshot and then the killer was sliding sideways off Tony’s legs. There was brightness and noise and pain and then somehow the killer’s body was gone and there were strong, warm arms wrapped around Tony.
“I’ve got you,” said a voice Tony would recognize anywhere, and relieved beyond expression he gave up the struggle.
“I’ve got you,” Gibbs repeated, and Tony let the warm velvety blackness envelop his consciousness.
*
A day and a half later, Tony was back at his desk in the Squad Room. His left arm was bandaged where the knife had stabbed him, as was his chest where the croton oil had produced burn-like blisters, but he had insisted on coming back to work. One day of recovering was enough, he figured.
Besides, ZNN was reporting on the huge story of a high-society wildlife smuggling ring being brought down at the same time as a wanted murderer was found and killed, and had against all odds not only mentioned NCIS along with the FBI, but also shown his picture. Such fame and glory was meant to be enjoyed with his teammates, not alone on his couch.
Said teammates were currently filling out paperwork and generally pretending they hadn’t missed him or been in any way worried about him. Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Tony!” The shriek made him look up to see Abby running across the room and pulling him into a tight hug. Tony suspected she had bribed the security guards to let her know the minute he entered the building.
“Abs,” he squeaked as she pressed too hard against his chest. “Injured, remember?”
She let go immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot, are you okay? Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be at home, healing?”
Tony shrugged as much as his bandages would permit. “I got bored. Besides, I wanted to thank you. If you hadn’t found out where I was, my picture would be in the news for a very different reason. So I thought I’d get you this.” He held up a cherry tootsie pop.
Abby’s face fell.
“What is it?” Tony asked. “I thought you loved them only two days ago?”
“Two hundred and five,” she sighed by way of an explanation. When he still looked puzzled, she added. “That’s my result. That’s the average amount of licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop. And I’ve checked my mechanic tongue’s results twenty-five times by myself, and only on cherry tootsie pops. That’s 5125 licks of fake cherry flavor and I really, really just never want to taste cherry flavor again, ever. I’m sorry, I know you meant well.”
Tony grinned. “In that case, it’s good I brought a back-up present.” From under his desk he pulled out a super-sized Caf-Pow.
Abby squealed. “You did that on purpose with the lollipop!” she accused delightedly. Tony didn’t deny it.
Abby wrapped him in another, more careful, hug, and then bounded off back to her lab, her giant Caf-Pow cradled to her chest.
Tony leaned back and breathed deeply, looking up at the skylight for a second before the ding of the elevator caught his attention.
His mouth hung open when he saw who stepped out of it. “Camille?” he said, not believing his eyes.
“Tony!” she cried, rushing over. “I’m so sorry! I never should have stood you up! It’s just, I talked to another woman at the bar where we met and she said you were a total jerk, and that I should avoid you. But then I saw you on ZNN this morning, and you’re a hero! So that’s why I’m here now, to say I’m sorry. And to ask if you still want to go on a date, maybe tonight?”
Tony grinned. “How about right now?” he asked slyly. Gibbs wasn’t there to stop him, and anyway, he was still recovering, surely that entitled him to an early lunch break.
Looking back from the elevator, he took a moment to enjoy McGee’s and Ziva’s expressions. Life was good.
Previous Chapter
Author: Calliatra
Rating: FR15
Category: Gen
Pairing: None
Characters: Tony, the whole team
Genre: Casefile
Words: 3,188 (26,461 total)
Disclaimer: All recognizable NCIS characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When a Petty Officer’s decapitated body is found it starts an investigation that spirals out of control and places Tony in grave danger.
Written for the Can Anybody Hear Me? Challenge and the Casefile Challenge at NFA and inspired by the Chinese Whisper Challenge.
Chapter Warnings: Some violence, but nothing you wouldn’t see on the show.
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
* * *
Chapter Nine: A Rescue
“Come on, McGee, we’ve got to work faster!” Abby cried, her fingers moving over the keyboard so fast they were a blur. “We’ve got to crack the phone’s encryption!”
McGee was standing next to her at her computer, his fingers moving equally quickly. “I’m doing my best.”
“Well, you’ve got to do it faster, we both do! Tony’s out there somewhere, in danger. We’ve got to find out where the smugglers had him taken before it’s too late!”
“I know, but I-” The lines of code on the monitor suddenly changed to a welcome screen. “We’re in,” McGee said, hardly daring to believe it.
“But we still have a problem,” Abby informed him, already rooting around in the directory. “He has tons of files. It’ll take forever to look through all of them!”
McGee thought fast. “Tony went missing tonight, so let’s focus first on any files that were created or changed today.”
They both worked feverishly in silence for a while; the only sound besides Abby’s ever-present music their rapid-fire typing.
“McGee, I’ve got something!” Abby called, pulling off the headphones she’d donned to check audio files.
“So do I!”
They looked at each other.
“Call Gibbs!”
*
“Thanks, Abs.” Outside Interrogation, Gibbs closed his cell phone and turned to Fornell, who had been listening in on the call. “You got that?”
“Yeah. Let’s go get ‘em.” Together they entered the room where Abernathy and his lawyer still sat.
“Mr. Abernathy, we’re charging you with illegal wildlife trade,” Fornell said.
“And the murder of a United States Naval Officer,” Gibbs added.
Abernathy looked surprised, but his lawyer quickly jumped in, preventing him from saying anything. “Those allegations are absurd. My client has nothing to do with either.”
Gibbs gave a quick signal to the technician in Observation, and an audio file started playing over the loudspeakers.
Lombard’s voice was clearly distinguishable. “… and Miss Emmons would like a cheetah fur.”
“That could be a problem,” Dawson’s voice said. “We don’t have contacts in the right parts of Africa.”
“I have several friends in South Africa,” Abernathy announced on the tape. “We will contact them. Though of course they won’t want to discuss the more sensitive aspects over such a long distance. Dawson, could you arrange for a fact-finding mission to take you there?”
Abernathy’s lawyer exchanged glances with his client, minutely shaking his head in warning.
“I suppose so. I’ll just have to find a way to get away from my aides long enough to meet with your friends.”
“Good.” Abernathy’s voice was speaking again. “They’ll know where to find experienced hunters that will cross the border to Botswana for us. They will be able to process the fur there, so our only problem will be to find a suitable courier.”
At Gibbs sign, the tape was cut off.
“My client has nothing to say,” Abernathy’s lawyer declared.
“Well, then it’s good that we know enough to do all the talking,” Fornell said. “You really shouldn’t have let your man, Lombard, record your planning sessions. That was careless.”
“Be that as it may, nothing on that tape suggests my client committed murder of any kind.”
“We have proof he had the motive, means, and opportunity to kill Petty Officer Jeffrey Thorne,” Fornell said.
Abernathy stared at him. “I never murdered anyone! I don’t even know who that is.”
His lawyer turned to him. “Don’t say anything more. They won’t be able to prove it.”
“We found the inventory Lombard kept of everything you smuggled into the country,” Fornell told him. “My men also found the secret room in your library where you kept the smuggled goods. Mrs. Crowley’s were still there, since she didn’t have a chance to pick up her ‘order’ yet. But you know what? The inventory says there should be a bottle of croton oil waiting for her, but my men didn’t find one there.”
Abernathy said nothing, and neither did his lawyer.
“We also checked Lombard’s call log,” Fornell continued. “Turns out a few minutes after Commander Nelson called him about Petty Officer Thorne, Lombard made one phone call to an untraceable burn phone.”
“A hit man,” Gibbs clarified.
“The only other time he called that number was right after Agent DiNozzo lost contact with us,” Fornell said.
“You knew Thorne was dangerous to your operation,” Gibbs growled. “So you hired a killer to poison him.”
“And when you noticed that Talley - Agent DiNozzo - had seen too much, you handed him to the killer, too.” Fornell added.
“Now wait just one second!” Abernathy said angrily.
“Don’t say anything,” his lawyer told him.
“No,” Abernathy insisted, “I will not be accused of murder! I have never heard of your petty officer before, I have no idea who that might be and I certainly didn’t kill him!”
“They don’t have any proof,” his lawyer tried to console him. “It’s all circumstantial.”
“There is no proof,” Abernathy almost shouted, “because I never ordered anyone to be killed! Not the petty officer and definitely not DiNozzo. Yes, all right, I knew he was a federal agent, but by the time I had found that out he had already left! I never had a chance to confront him, let alone hand him to a killer! I am not a murderer!”
Gibbs gazed intensely at the man for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and left the interrogation room. After one last glance at Abernathy, Fornell followed him.
*
“Where is DiNozzo?” Gibbs roared at Lombard, his fists on the interrogation room table and his face within inches of the other man’s.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lombard said with an admirable attempt at defiance, which of course stood no chance against the might of Gibbs fury.
“We decrypted your phone,” Fornell told him. “We know all about the wildlife smuggling, and we have enough to pin you for the murder of Petty Officer Thorne. And we have enough on your employers, too, so don’t expect them to be able to get you a lighter sentence. The only way to help yourself is to tell us where Agent DiNozzo is.”
“I don’t-” Lombard began.
“If DiNozzo dies,” Gibbs growled in his face, “I will make sure you’re tried in Virginia. Killing a federal agent will get you the death penalty.”
“He’s right,” Fornell said. “And Virginia has the highest execution rate in the US. If you want to avoid death row tell us where to find Agent DiNozzo before it’s too late.”
Lombard gulped and took a deep breath. “Okay, okay, I’ll cooperate.”
“Where is DiNozzo?” Gibbs hissed.
“I don’t know.”
Gibbs strode towards the door. “Well, you had your chance,” Fornell said, turning to follow him.
“Wait!” Lombard called. “I really don’t know where he is! But I’ll tell you everything else I know!”
The two agents turned back to face him. “Who did you hire?” Fornell asked.
“Jason. My brother Jason has him.” Lombard said breathlessly.
“You don’t have a brother,” Fornell interrupted him. He knew all the files on the triumvirate practically by heart.
“My stepbrother. Jason Kendall.”
“Where is he?” Gibbs ground out.
“I swear I don’t know. He’s wanted in Maine for murder and he’s on the run. He came to me last week, and I gave him cash, but I didn’t want to know where he was staying or where he was going. I did give him a burn phone, though, just in case. Then, when Commander Nelson called to warn about Thorne, I called Jason. The ‘triumvirate’ always pretend they’re not doing anything wrong, they’re just circumventing moralistic trade laws. Well, that’s because I do all the dirty work. So I called Jason and told him there was someone I needed to get rid of. I gave him the croton oil, too.”
Fornell glanced at Gibbs. They definitely had Lombard for Thorne’s murder now.
“And then, when today I caught your agent snooping I knocked him out and I called Jason,” Lombard continued. “I just told him to take care of it, I really don’t know how he’s going to do it, or where!”
Gibbs was livid. “How do we find him?”
“I don’t know! But you’re the FBI, can’t you trace his cell phone?”
*
“I’m sorry, Boss, but the cell phone’s turned off. There’s no way to trace it,” McGee said, trying not to panic. It looked like they had just lost their last chance of finding Tony.
“Abby?” Gibbs was as desperate as they all were.
She shook her head. “There’s already a BOLO out on Jason Kendall, he’s wanted in connection with three murders. He’s going to be hiding out of sight. The only other thing I had was the dark van, but that was a total bust. It belongs to the FBI, they were on the way to some kind of drug bust. I’ve got nothing, Gibbs.”
This was it, McGee realized. They had no more cards up their sleeves. They knew who the killer was and why he was killing, but none of that did them any good because they couldn’t find him, couldn’t get to him in time. Tony was going to die.
At that moment, Jimmy burst through the door. “Agent Gibbs!” he panted. “I think I have a clue.”
Gibbs’ glare prompted him to continue right away. “I was looking through the stomach content analysis Abby sent, and I noticed that almost everything the squirrel’s been eating has a very high lead content.” Gibbs intensified glare caused him to stumble over a few words, but he bravely kept on going. “The, uh, I mean, what that means is that wherever the squirrel was living the ground probably has lead contamination.”
“Abby, check the warehouse where we found Thorne!” Ziva called in sudden realization.
“What? Why?” Abby asked, nevertheless already typing the right commands.
“You said Thorne was brought there in a wheelbarrow! We thought the killer only used it to get the body from the van to the warehouse, but if the van wasn’t the killer’s-”
“He could have come from nearby!” Abby completed the thought. “If he was in one of the other warehouses, he could have used the wheelbarrow to quickly move the body without anyone seeing him.”
“It makes sense,” McGee said. “He’s on the run, he can’t risk being seen, so hiding out in an old warehouse where there are almost no people around is perfect. He’s probably one of the homeless living there!”
“Found it!” Abby cried. “There’s a lead contamination in the southeast area of the warehouse complex. The only thing there is an abandoned underground storage!”
“That’s where Tony is!” McGee exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
“I’ll send the coordinates to your GPS!” Abby called after the agents who has already rushed out the door.
*
The light bulb above him had gone out, plunging Tony into blackness again. He felt like he had been there for an eternity, but in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. The sky was still velvety darkness. The box with the now dead squirrel was also still there, a warning of what was to come. But Tony had never been one to accept fate lying down, literally in this case.
Since his captor had left, Tony had been tugging at the ropes binding his hands and feet together. The one around his wrists wouldn’t budge, though Tony had earned some definite rope burn for his efforts. The one around his ankles, however, had started to give just a little bit.
Tony twisted and turned and wiggled his feet, scraping his bare back along the rough floor until he finally found the position that seemed to maximize the give. Then he tugged at it, trying to pull his feet apart, to stretch the rope. Bit by slow bit he managed to get his feet more wiggle room until finally he thought he had enough to slip a foot out of the binding.
At that moment, a squeak announced the return of the killer and Tony lay still, trying to conceal his efforts. There was the click of the light switch and suddenly the bulb was on again. Squinting, Tony saw his captor approach and lean over the box with the dead squirrel. In his hand he held a large knife. In one swift movement, he severed the squirrel’s head from its body. Tony remembered it was the same thing he had done to the other squirrel, and then Thorne.
“Now isn’t that better?” he killer asked. “Before, it could have just been sleeping, but now you can see it’s dead. I like it that way, it’s like checking something off a list. Check, that’s done.”
“Is that why you dumped the body the way you did?” Tony asked, playing for time, “To show everyone that you’d finished with Thorne?”
The killer ignored the question completely and pulled the now familiar small bottle from his pocket. “It’s your turn now,” he said almost cheerfully. He leaned forward, opening the bottle and preparing to pour it into Tony’s mouth. Tony clenched his jaw and slowly shimmied his foot through the tangle of rope.
The killer laughed. “The other one tried that, too, you know,” and for a second Tony thought he’d seen the loosened rope, but then the man continued. “I’ll get you to open up, there’s really no point in refusing.” Tony managed to get a deep breath in before the killer pinched his nose shut. At the same time, he managed to slide his right foot out of the rope.
In one swift movement he rolled himself onto his side towards the killer and thrust his right knee upward, hitting the killer’s knee from behind and sending him toppling to the ground. The bottle of croton oil fell and Tony hissed at the intense burn as some of it splashed onto his bare chest. He didn’t have time to think about it, though.
The killer was getting back to his feet, his knife now in his left hand. The right one he was cradling close to his body, it had obviously gotten a full dose of the croton oil. Making use of that fact, Tony kicked out, hitting the injured hand and making the killer involuntarily jerk backwards, falling back on the ground. He kept his grip on the knife, however.
Tony rolled onto his back, trying to get to his feet, but the killer was already at his side again, raising the knife. Tony twisted his body out of the way, but felt a stinging in his left arm that meant he hadn’t twisted far enough. There was a roaring noise and bright white light suddenly streamed through the room. Then the pain hit Tony full force, robbing him of his breath for the crucial second the killer needed to straddle his legs. With loud thudding ringing in his ears, Tony watched helplessly as the killer raised the knife.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a gunshot and then the killer was sliding sideways off Tony’s legs. There was brightness and noise and pain and then somehow the killer’s body was gone and there were strong, warm arms wrapped around Tony.
“I’ve got you,” said a voice Tony would recognize anywhere, and relieved beyond expression he gave up the struggle.
“I’ve got you,” Gibbs repeated, and Tony let the warm velvety blackness envelop his consciousness.
*
A day and a half later, Tony was back at his desk in the Squad Room. His left arm was bandaged where the knife had stabbed him, as was his chest where the croton oil had produced burn-like blisters, but he had insisted on coming back to work. One day of recovering was enough, he figured.
Besides, ZNN was reporting on the huge story of a high-society wildlife smuggling ring being brought down at the same time as a wanted murderer was found and killed, and had against all odds not only mentioned NCIS along with the FBI, but also shown his picture. Such fame and glory was meant to be enjoyed with his teammates, not alone on his couch.
Said teammates were currently filling out paperwork and generally pretending they hadn’t missed him or been in any way worried about him. Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Tony!” The shriek made him look up to see Abby running across the room and pulling him into a tight hug. Tony suspected she had bribed the security guards to let her know the minute he entered the building.
“Abs,” he squeaked as she pressed too hard against his chest. “Injured, remember?”
She let go immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot, are you okay? Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be at home, healing?”
Tony shrugged as much as his bandages would permit. “I got bored. Besides, I wanted to thank you. If you hadn’t found out where I was, my picture would be in the news for a very different reason. So I thought I’d get you this.” He held up a cherry tootsie pop.
Abby’s face fell.
“What is it?” Tony asked. “I thought you loved them only two days ago?”
“Two hundred and five,” she sighed by way of an explanation. When he still looked puzzled, she added. “That’s my result. That’s the average amount of licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop. And I’ve checked my mechanic tongue’s results twenty-five times by myself, and only on cherry tootsie pops. That’s 5125 licks of fake cherry flavor and I really, really just never want to taste cherry flavor again, ever. I’m sorry, I know you meant well.”
Tony grinned. “In that case, it’s good I brought a back-up present.” From under his desk he pulled out a super-sized Caf-Pow.
Abby squealed. “You did that on purpose with the lollipop!” she accused delightedly. Tony didn’t deny it.
Abby wrapped him in another, more careful, hug, and then bounded off back to her lab, her giant Caf-Pow cradled to her chest.
Tony leaned back and breathed deeply, looking up at the skylight for a second before the ding of the elevator caught his attention.
His mouth hung open when he saw who stepped out of it. “Camille?” he said, not believing his eyes.
“Tony!” she cried, rushing over. “I’m so sorry! I never should have stood you up! It’s just, I talked to another woman at the bar where we met and she said you were a total jerk, and that I should avoid you. But then I saw you on ZNN this morning, and you’re a hero! So that’s why I’m here now, to say I’m sorry. And to ask if you still want to go on a date, maybe tonight?”
Tony grinned. “How about right now?” he asked slyly. Gibbs wasn’t there to stop him, and anyway, he was still recovering, surely that entitled him to an early lunch break.
Looking back from the elevator, he took a moment to enjoy McGee’s and Ziva’s expressions. Life was good.
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