NCIS:Rag Doll. Angst/Drama PG 13 - 10/?
Title: Rag Doll
Chapter: 10/?
Fandom: NCIS
Author: cheekymice
Rating: PG13
Beta: Scousmuz1K
Genre: Drama/Angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to the TV show NCIS sadly.
Notes: So here I am back again with another multi chapter fic. I hope you enjoy. This will be my usual brand of overblown angst with a soupcon of whumpage. I can say that this story will not be dwelling on anything graphic regarding the subject matter, it is mainly a study on how difficult some undercover assignments must be.
~~~ ~~~~
Rag Doll
The address they pulled up outside reminded Gibbs a lot of the houses in Stillwater. It was a typical turn of the century wood frame family home, worn with age and comfortable, but as DiNozzo had written in his report, not the kind of place the daughter of a senator would ever willingly grace. It was far too homespun for someone who’d grown up with summers in Monte Carlo, yachts and polo ponies on tap.
Gibbs sat behind the wheel and nodded at the car parked outside.
“He’s definitely here,” he said, as McGee’s report quickly germinated into a thousand possibilities in his mind, none of them good for DiNozzo. “How the hell was this missed, Leon?”
“I don’t know but trust me, heads will roll.” Vance didn’t sound happy and that was good because that anger could be used to make sure that this didn’t happen again.
“They’d better; this fuck up might just have cost DiNozzo his life,” Gibbs glared at the director.
Vance’s silence was heavy and spoke volumes.
Gibbs got out the car and shut the door quietly. He pulled out his sidearm and the director did the same.
“Grey’s also here,” Gibbs commented as he passed the commanders Porsche Boxster in the drive; behind that sat a gleaming Mercedes.
Hell, just how many people are involved in DiNozzo’s disappearance? Who did the Merc belong to? It was yet another anomaly to work into this glorious clusterfuck of an assignment.
He gave a nod to Vance; they both crept up the path. The snow was falling heavily again and it didn’t make for a one hundred percent stealthy progress when you were focusing on not falling on your ass on a sloping pathway.
The lights were on in the house, and when he tried, the front door was open. Gibbs signaled that he was going in. Vance nodded, raised his gun and followed.
He pushed open the door and entered. The house was silent in a way that only an empty house could be. Years of experience had taught Gibbs the subtle differences between that and one in which people were hiding, but he still kept his gun drawn, he wasn’t stupid.
Once he’d checked the immediate area he relaxed his stance.
Vance set about checking the rooms but Gibbs’ eyes were drawn to the hall floor where a baseball bat was lying abandoned on the floor.
Gibbs knelt down and pulled on a pair of latex gloves; he carefully picked up the bat. He peered at the end and saw blood and hair clinging to the wood.
He looked at the wall opposite; the light spattering of blood sprayed up the white paint told its own story.
Sighing, he gently rested the bat against the wall and turned his attention back to the floor.
Lying next to the irregular patch of drying blood was a black wallet. He picked it up, flipped it open and searched through the contents. There were about three hundred bucks in various bills and a couple of receipts. He slid one of the credit cards out of the leather slot.
“Dammit.” He whispered.
Gibbs replaced the card and stood. With his jaw clenched he followed the trail of blood down the hall into the den. The trail ended at another puddle of blood.
He walked the scene. Took in everything from the broken glass at the patio doors to the child’s storybook and coat on the couch.
“It’s clear.” Vance appeared at his side. “It looks like they left in a hurry but they’ll be back.”
Without turning Gibbs held out the wallet.
Vance pulled on a pair of gloves.
“It’s DiNozzo’s,” Gibbs started to pace the room. “From what I can make out someone hit him with a baseball bat in the hall then dragged him into here. Somehow he got up, there’s a trail of blood spots leading over to the door and then over to the patio windows.”
Vance nodded and looked grim.
“And I think we know now why DiNozzo decided to go it alone.” Gibbs walked over to the couch and picked up the storybook and pink coat.
“There’s no cell coverage here and he wouldn’t have left a child here while he went for a phone,” he responded. Vance’s face darkened as he took in the small pink raincoat.
“So he agree that he probably grabbed the kid and went out the window, DiNozzo’s injured and from the way they left, the fuckers are after him. We need to call this in and get out there,” Gibbs placed the coat back down on the couch.
“Already done, the local officers are on their way to secure the scene and David and McGee are on their way by helo.” Vance zipped up his coat and checked his gun again.
The director was already making his way outside without waiting for a response.
Gibbs quirked one eyebrow and quickly followed the director out into the snow.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen Vance so fired up. Whether it was because the man was out in the field again or because of guilt he was feeling over DiNozzo he didn’t know, didn’t care as long as the Director knew that pussyfooting around wasn’t going to cut it.
Gibbs was going to nail these perverted bastards whatever it took, procedures be damned. If he had a chance to pop a cap in one of their asses then he would for hurting his agent; but add to that the fact that they had bought a child to the house, and all negotiations were out.
They were all as guilty as sin in his mind.
A gust of wind slammed into them from the east and it was cold enough to take his breath away. He shivered and turned the collar up on his jacket as he gazed towards the inky tree line. It was dense and thick, didn’t look like it was managed, and it was perfect to get lost in. He silently applauded Tony for choosing the relative safety of the tangled trees. If he were as badly injured as the blood inside of the house indicated, then that would be his only shot. Hide out there and wait but the weather was going to be a bitch.
Vance paused and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and pointed it onto the ground. Gibbs moved over to where he was pointing.
“Blood trail, DiNozzo went this way,” Vance said softly.
The snow was falling fast but not fast enough to cover the many tracks. Sure enough there was a trail of crimson standing out starkly against the whiteness of the ice. Gibbs ground his teeth together.
Wherever Tony was he was still losing blood fast.
“Three sets of footprints following on, at least we know what we’re dealing with now. C’mon, lets move.” Gibbs pulled his own flashlight out of his pocket and started to move quickly in the same direction Tony had.
“On your six,” Vance nodded.
That phrase didn’t offer the same level of security coming from Vance’s mouth as it did DiNozzo’s but it would do.
Gibbs ducked under a branch, looking for any signs that his second had passed; his light caught another splash of blood, and his jaw clenched again.
Tony would be fine, a little banged up but fine.
Gibbs forced his way through the undergrowth and tried his best to block out the image of the blood-splattered wall and bat.
DiNozzo was like a cat but unlike a feline’s nine lives, he seemed to have a hell of a lot more chances, if all the metaphorical and real bullets dodged over the years were anything to go by. Gibbs just hoped that that impressive record would continue to hold.
~~~~~~ ~~~~~
Dispatching the senator had taken the last of any reserves Tony had, and the phrase ‘weak as a kitten’ very much made sense to him now.
As he knelt on all fours, trying to get his breathe back, it occurred to him that if he didn’t get up off the floor anytime soon then in all probability, he never would.
Tony couldn’t feel his hands any longer; he couldn’t feel any part of his body anymore if he were honest.
Jesus, he didn’t think he’d ever been so cold in his life before.
Numbness, that was the overriding theme. He was one big, ice cube; his teeth were crashing together so violently Tony seriously worried that they’d just shake clear out of his head.
He knew he had to move, but the reality of that was going to prove more then a little difficult to execute.
He thought about it for a few minutes more, to build up the requisite courage because he knew that it wasn’t going to be pretty when he did stand.
Using the rapidly cooling corpse of Reinhart to lever himself upwards, Tony pushed up off the ground. He knew Ducky would wince at his obvious lack of respect but hell, the man was definitely beyond caring now and considering the senator had been intent on making sure he didn’t leave the woods alive, Tony couldn’t really bring himself to care much.
Once upright the change in pressure made his skull feel like it was being squeezed in a vice and he couldn’t help the many colorful curses that escaped his lips, alluding to questionable lineages and several sexual practices that were definitely illegal in the red states.
Tony swayed and took one step forward; the world seemed to spin three hundred and sixty degrees. The vomit that spewed out of his mouth and nose caught him completely unawares and he gagged as he covered his tee shirt and jeans with the half digested peach pie he’d eaten a few hours earlier. As if he hadn’t been feeling bad enough the fates had to go and add throwing up into the mix.
He really, really hated throwing up.
Breathing heavily through his nose to quell his stomach he watched the snow tumble down from the sky. In any other scenario it would have been magical, he’d always loved the snow as a kid but right now the white stuff was just proving to be a pain in the ass.
With a moan of self-pity at the vile slush that was quickly forming on his chest, Tony tucked a numb hand under his armpit, seeking out any residual warmth he could, not that it made any difference.
He swung the flashlight around the clearing trying to figure out which direction Imee had run off in. Every tree looked the same to him, each shape blurred into another; he desperately tried to spot something that would help, but gave up when he realized that it was useless.
Taking a wild stab in the dark Tony lurched forward, hoping that he was at least going in roughly the same direction as the little girl.
He didn’t care that having the flashlight on was a bad idea, without it he knew he’d be on the ground quicker than an elderly nun after a few glasses of Polish vodka. As it was, concentrating on the beam of light on the ground was making him more nauseous than he already felt and he kept stumbling over his own feet. A couple of times he almost went down as he got his feet caught up in tree roots, but all he could do was keep pushing forward through the foliage if he didn’t want to end up a DiNozzo shaped icicle.
As he stumbled on the snow was still falling through the thick canopy above and settling on his shoulders. He gave a gentle shimmy to try and shift it.
Tony suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
He was a fucking idiot.
Why was he running around freezing his ass off when the senator was lying back in the clearing wearing a huge padded jacket? It was a testimony to just how scrambled his thought process was that such a simple solution to his state of undress had eluded him.
Tony shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. It wasn’t often he felt so totally overwhelmed, but right now that emotion was all he could feel and he fought the urge to cry in sheer frustration at the whole situation.
To go back or not.
Part of him was just saying ‘fuck it’.
He was too damn tired, hurting too much; but he was worried that he’d be walking around in befuddled circles all night due to the fact that his sense of direction was shot and his eyesight was fucked - and the warmth the jacket would provide might buy him some extra time.
His training won over the desire to just give up.
With a weary sigh he turned around, and started to slog back the way he’d just come from.
Tony could barely hold onto the flashlight now. His hands were burning; they felt like they were on fire. He’d been shot several times in the past but that pain didn’t come close to what he was feeling now.
He really should have just stayed in his bed this morning. If he had then he’d be warm right now, probably watching his huge plasma with some form of take-out next to him.
Just whom the hell had he pissed off in a previous life that shit like this kept happening to him?
One minute he was feeling sorry for himself and the next he was flat on his back.
He went down hard and it took him way too long to figure out what had just happened.
“Get up, you piece of shit.” A voice broke through the inky blackness.
Oh crap.
He rolled over and crawled onto his knees again. This was becoming like Groundhog Day. He reached for the light as he chuckled; not that the situation was funny but he knew how much effort it had taken to get up the last time.
“You think this is funny, Asshole?” the voice barked again.
Tony swung the beam of light at the voice.
Grey was standing looking seriously pissed but it was the guy next to him that caused the epiphany, the ultimate light bulb moment.
Tony squinted up at the man.
Here was the missing link in the case, the reason the Norfolk investigation had been such a spectacular fuck up from the off. Grey had a pet agent feeding him info on the investigation every step of the way.
“I k-knew you w-were a b-bastard but e-even I n-never s-suspected you w-were a s-sicko w-who g-got off on k-kiddies, s-special a-agent Acker.” Tony was amazed that he managed to speak as his lips were beyond numb and teeth were chattering so hard.
Acker had been a thorn in Tony’s side ever since he’d transferred from Norfolk eight months ago. His sharp instincts must have been at work regarding the man because Tony had taken an instant dislike to the new agent. He was arrogant and full of his own self-importance from the minute he’d arrived in the navy yard. Tony had spent the last few months swinging between ignoring the agent whenever possible and baiting him until the felling of dislike was mutual.
No wonder Ackers had hit him so hard around the back of his head.
“Shut the fuck up,” Acker spat out.
Winding people up was his forte and it was a hard habit to break.
“W-what? S-struck a…a n-nerve h-have I? C-can’t g-get it u-up w-with a r-real w-women, th-that w-why y-you h-hang a-around w-with C-captain P-pedo there….”
He didn’t get to finish. Grey growled and launched himself.
Although the kick to the stomach wasn’t unexpected Tony couldn’t move fast enough to lessen the blow.
The force knocked him off his hands and knees sending him back down onto the ground but Grey didn’t stop there.
“I trusted you,” Grey shouted as his boot landed again and again. “I let you into my home...”
Tony curled into a protective ball and grunted as each blow landed. Wasn’t much else he could do.
Eventually Grey stopped, Tony wasn’t sure if it was by design or because Acker told him to. Either way he was mighty glad he had.
He turned his head and peered up at them again, forcing a grin onto his face even though his body was definitely not remotely happy.
Special Agent Ackers pulled out a gun and aimed.
Tony suspected that the weapon was his own confiscated gun. Great. Gibbs was going to love that one.
He shifted so he was more upright as rolling around in the detritus of the snowy woodland floor was so undignified.
If he was going to die then he’d damn well make sure he’d meet his maker wisecracking all the way.
“I t-take it th-this m-means o-our t-tennis m-match is c-cancelled on T-Tuesday, Chaz?”
“Oh, I think you’d better cancel all future appointments, DiNozzo,” Ackers said smugly, as Grey snorted in amusement, looking every bit like an obsequious henchman.
It was a clichéd Bond moment if ever there was one. The ridiculous posturing and gloating over his impending death was so lame.
They’d start talking about their plans for world domination next.
“Aww, a-and I h-had a d-dinner d-date with J-Jennifer Aniston n-next w-week,” Tony snarked and narrowly missed biting his tongue off as his teeth crashed together.
Talking shouldn’t have been this hard but Tony tried not to show how much he was hurting and continued to smirk at the two men.
“You think you’re such a funny man don’t you, DiNozzo, wont be so funny when you’re rotting, six foot under,” Grey snarled.
“L-like t-that k-kid I d-dug up in y-your b-back g-garden, G-gray?” Tony blinked and raised his hand as the flashlight beam shone straight into his eyes. “T-that m-make y-you f-feel like a b-big m-man to k-kill s-someone who p-probably w-weighed l-less than f-forty p-pounds?”
Tony saw the look of shock that appeared on both their faces.
“Yeah, Ackers, th-that’s what I d-do, I investigate, th-that’s why I’m a s-senior f-field agent and you’re j-just a s-schmuck. Is t-that w-what y-you p-p-planned to d-do to t-that g-girl t-tonight? R-rape and m-murder for k-kicks. Well f-fuck you b-both, s-she’s safe n-now.”
Tony curled his lip up in disgust and prayed that he was right about Imee.
“Where is she?” Ackers yelled.
Thank God, they hadn’t got her.
“S-she’s p-probably on t-the phone t-to the c-cops r-right n-now, you’re both s-screwed,” he said smugly even though he knew it was too late for him to benefit.
“He’s lying, Norman’s probably got her.” Grey shook his head.
Tony laughed.
“N-norm’s d-dead… m-may h-have a-accidentally b-broken his n-neck.”
Even in the yellow glow of the flashlight Tony could see Grey blanch. All color leeched from his face as panic set in. There was no way back now. People were going to notice a senator going missing. The FBI would be called in; everyone who knew him would be under scrutiny.
If Grey was shitting himself, then so was Ackers.
The wheels were definitely turning in the NCIS agent’s head too.
Ackers raised the gun and Tony heard the click as the safety was released.
He stared hard at Tony with a look of stark, explosive anger on his face.
~~~~~~ ~~~~~
Gibbs quickly picked up the trail; the broken branches, blood spots and flattened foliage were easy to spot even in the dark.
Five people moving through the woods in haste left a lot of clues.
They were both silent, each caught up in his own thoughts.
The unmistakable sound of a gunshot made Gibbs stop in his tracks.
His heart literally jumped into his throat as fear gripped his very soul.
Gibbs turned and stared at Vance…. then both of them started running.
TBC
R+R and I'll love ya forever.
Chapter: 10/?
Fandom: NCIS
Author: cheekymice
Rating: PG13
Beta: Scousmuz1K
Genre: Drama/Angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to the TV show NCIS sadly.
Notes: So here I am back again with another multi chapter fic. I hope you enjoy. This will be my usual brand of overblown angst with a soupcon of whumpage. I can say that this story will not be dwelling on anything graphic regarding the subject matter, it is mainly a study on how difficult some undercover assignments must be.
~~~ ~~~~
Rag Doll
The address they pulled up outside reminded Gibbs a lot of the houses in Stillwater. It was a typical turn of the century wood frame family home, worn with age and comfortable, but as DiNozzo had written in his report, not the kind of place the daughter of a senator would ever willingly grace. It was far too homespun for someone who’d grown up with summers in Monte Carlo, yachts and polo ponies on tap.
Gibbs sat behind the wheel and nodded at the car parked outside.
“He’s definitely here,” he said, as McGee’s report quickly germinated into a thousand possibilities in his mind, none of them good for DiNozzo. “How the hell was this missed, Leon?”
“I don’t know but trust me, heads will roll.” Vance didn’t sound happy and that was good because that anger could be used to make sure that this didn’t happen again.
“They’d better; this fuck up might just have cost DiNozzo his life,” Gibbs glared at the director.
Vance’s silence was heavy and spoke volumes.
Gibbs got out the car and shut the door quietly. He pulled out his sidearm and the director did the same.
“Grey’s also here,” Gibbs commented as he passed the commanders Porsche Boxster in the drive; behind that sat a gleaming Mercedes.
Hell, just how many people are involved in DiNozzo’s disappearance? Who did the Merc belong to? It was yet another anomaly to work into this glorious clusterfuck of an assignment.
He gave a nod to Vance; they both crept up the path. The snow was falling heavily again and it didn’t make for a one hundred percent stealthy progress when you were focusing on not falling on your ass on a sloping pathway.
The lights were on in the house, and when he tried, the front door was open. Gibbs signaled that he was going in. Vance nodded, raised his gun and followed.
He pushed open the door and entered. The house was silent in a way that only an empty house could be. Years of experience had taught Gibbs the subtle differences between that and one in which people were hiding, but he still kept his gun drawn, he wasn’t stupid.
Once he’d checked the immediate area he relaxed his stance.
Vance set about checking the rooms but Gibbs’ eyes were drawn to the hall floor where a baseball bat was lying abandoned on the floor.
Gibbs knelt down and pulled on a pair of latex gloves; he carefully picked up the bat. He peered at the end and saw blood and hair clinging to the wood.
He looked at the wall opposite; the light spattering of blood sprayed up the white paint told its own story.
Sighing, he gently rested the bat against the wall and turned his attention back to the floor.
Lying next to the irregular patch of drying blood was a black wallet. He picked it up, flipped it open and searched through the contents. There were about three hundred bucks in various bills and a couple of receipts. He slid one of the credit cards out of the leather slot.
“Dammit.” He whispered.
Gibbs replaced the card and stood. With his jaw clenched he followed the trail of blood down the hall into the den. The trail ended at another puddle of blood.
He walked the scene. Took in everything from the broken glass at the patio doors to the child’s storybook and coat on the couch.
“It’s clear.” Vance appeared at his side. “It looks like they left in a hurry but they’ll be back.”
Without turning Gibbs held out the wallet.
Vance pulled on a pair of gloves.
“It’s DiNozzo’s,” Gibbs started to pace the room. “From what I can make out someone hit him with a baseball bat in the hall then dragged him into here. Somehow he got up, there’s a trail of blood spots leading over to the door and then over to the patio windows.”
Vance nodded and looked grim.
“And I think we know now why DiNozzo decided to go it alone.” Gibbs walked over to the couch and picked up the storybook and pink coat.
“There’s no cell coverage here and he wouldn’t have left a child here while he went for a phone,” he responded. Vance’s face darkened as he took in the small pink raincoat.
“So he agree that he probably grabbed the kid and went out the window, DiNozzo’s injured and from the way they left, the fuckers are after him. We need to call this in and get out there,” Gibbs placed the coat back down on the couch.
“Already done, the local officers are on their way to secure the scene and David and McGee are on their way by helo.” Vance zipped up his coat and checked his gun again.
The director was already making his way outside without waiting for a response.
Gibbs quirked one eyebrow and quickly followed the director out into the snow.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen Vance so fired up. Whether it was because the man was out in the field again or because of guilt he was feeling over DiNozzo he didn’t know, didn’t care as long as the Director knew that pussyfooting around wasn’t going to cut it.
Gibbs was going to nail these perverted bastards whatever it took, procedures be damned. If he had a chance to pop a cap in one of their asses then he would for hurting his agent; but add to that the fact that they had bought a child to the house, and all negotiations were out.
They were all as guilty as sin in his mind.
A gust of wind slammed into them from the east and it was cold enough to take his breath away. He shivered and turned the collar up on his jacket as he gazed towards the inky tree line. It was dense and thick, didn’t look like it was managed, and it was perfect to get lost in. He silently applauded Tony for choosing the relative safety of the tangled trees. If he were as badly injured as the blood inside of the house indicated, then that would be his only shot. Hide out there and wait but the weather was going to be a bitch.
Vance paused and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and pointed it onto the ground. Gibbs moved over to where he was pointing.
“Blood trail, DiNozzo went this way,” Vance said softly.
The snow was falling fast but not fast enough to cover the many tracks. Sure enough there was a trail of crimson standing out starkly against the whiteness of the ice. Gibbs ground his teeth together.
Wherever Tony was he was still losing blood fast.
“Three sets of footprints following on, at least we know what we’re dealing with now. C’mon, lets move.” Gibbs pulled his own flashlight out of his pocket and started to move quickly in the same direction Tony had.
“On your six,” Vance nodded.
That phrase didn’t offer the same level of security coming from Vance’s mouth as it did DiNozzo’s but it would do.
Gibbs ducked under a branch, looking for any signs that his second had passed; his light caught another splash of blood, and his jaw clenched again.
Tony would be fine, a little banged up but fine.
Gibbs forced his way through the undergrowth and tried his best to block out the image of the blood-splattered wall and bat.
DiNozzo was like a cat but unlike a feline’s nine lives, he seemed to have a hell of a lot more chances, if all the metaphorical and real bullets dodged over the years were anything to go by. Gibbs just hoped that that impressive record would continue to hold.
~~~~~~ ~~~~~
Dispatching the senator had taken the last of any reserves Tony had, and the phrase ‘weak as a kitten’ very much made sense to him now.
As he knelt on all fours, trying to get his breathe back, it occurred to him that if he didn’t get up off the floor anytime soon then in all probability, he never would.
Tony couldn’t feel his hands any longer; he couldn’t feel any part of his body anymore if he were honest.
Jesus, he didn’t think he’d ever been so cold in his life before.
Numbness, that was the overriding theme. He was one big, ice cube; his teeth were crashing together so violently Tony seriously worried that they’d just shake clear out of his head.
He knew he had to move, but the reality of that was going to prove more then a little difficult to execute.
He thought about it for a few minutes more, to build up the requisite courage because he knew that it wasn’t going to be pretty when he did stand.
Using the rapidly cooling corpse of Reinhart to lever himself upwards, Tony pushed up off the ground. He knew Ducky would wince at his obvious lack of respect but hell, the man was definitely beyond caring now and considering the senator had been intent on making sure he didn’t leave the woods alive, Tony couldn’t really bring himself to care much.
Once upright the change in pressure made his skull feel like it was being squeezed in a vice and he couldn’t help the many colorful curses that escaped his lips, alluding to questionable lineages and several sexual practices that were definitely illegal in the red states.
Tony swayed and took one step forward; the world seemed to spin three hundred and sixty degrees. The vomit that spewed out of his mouth and nose caught him completely unawares and he gagged as he covered his tee shirt and jeans with the half digested peach pie he’d eaten a few hours earlier. As if he hadn’t been feeling bad enough the fates had to go and add throwing up into the mix.
He really, really hated throwing up.
Breathing heavily through his nose to quell his stomach he watched the snow tumble down from the sky. In any other scenario it would have been magical, he’d always loved the snow as a kid but right now the white stuff was just proving to be a pain in the ass.
With a moan of self-pity at the vile slush that was quickly forming on his chest, Tony tucked a numb hand under his armpit, seeking out any residual warmth he could, not that it made any difference.
He swung the flashlight around the clearing trying to figure out which direction Imee had run off in. Every tree looked the same to him, each shape blurred into another; he desperately tried to spot something that would help, but gave up when he realized that it was useless.
Taking a wild stab in the dark Tony lurched forward, hoping that he was at least going in roughly the same direction as the little girl.
He didn’t care that having the flashlight on was a bad idea, without it he knew he’d be on the ground quicker than an elderly nun after a few glasses of Polish vodka. As it was, concentrating on the beam of light on the ground was making him more nauseous than he already felt and he kept stumbling over his own feet. A couple of times he almost went down as he got his feet caught up in tree roots, but all he could do was keep pushing forward through the foliage if he didn’t want to end up a DiNozzo shaped icicle.
As he stumbled on the snow was still falling through the thick canopy above and settling on his shoulders. He gave a gentle shimmy to try and shift it.
Tony suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
He was a fucking idiot.
Why was he running around freezing his ass off when the senator was lying back in the clearing wearing a huge padded jacket? It was a testimony to just how scrambled his thought process was that such a simple solution to his state of undress had eluded him.
Tony shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. It wasn’t often he felt so totally overwhelmed, but right now that emotion was all he could feel and he fought the urge to cry in sheer frustration at the whole situation.
To go back or not.
Part of him was just saying ‘fuck it’.
He was too damn tired, hurting too much; but he was worried that he’d be walking around in befuddled circles all night due to the fact that his sense of direction was shot and his eyesight was fucked - and the warmth the jacket would provide might buy him some extra time.
His training won over the desire to just give up.
With a weary sigh he turned around, and started to slog back the way he’d just come from.
Tony could barely hold onto the flashlight now. His hands were burning; they felt like they were on fire. He’d been shot several times in the past but that pain didn’t come close to what he was feeling now.
He really should have just stayed in his bed this morning. If he had then he’d be warm right now, probably watching his huge plasma with some form of take-out next to him.
Just whom the hell had he pissed off in a previous life that shit like this kept happening to him?
One minute he was feeling sorry for himself and the next he was flat on his back.
He went down hard and it took him way too long to figure out what had just happened.
“Get up, you piece of shit.” A voice broke through the inky blackness.
Oh crap.
He rolled over and crawled onto his knees again. This was becoming like Groundhog Day. He reached for the light as he chuckled; not that the situation was funny but he knew how much effort it had taken to get up the last time.
“You think this is funny, Asshole?” the voice barked again.
Tony swung the beam of light at the voice.
Grey was standing looking seriously pissed but it was the guy next to him that caused the epiphany, the ultimate light bulb moment.
Tony squinted up at the man.
Here was the missing link in the case, the reason the Norfolk investigation had been such a spectacular fuck up from the off. Grey had a pet agent feeding him info on the investigation every step of the way.
“I k-knew you w-were a b-bastard but e-even I n-never s-suspected you w-were a s-sicko w-who g-got off on k-kiddies, s-special a-agent Acker.” Tony was amazed that he managed to speak as his lips were beyond numb and teeth were chattering so hard.
Acker had been a thorn in Tony’s side ever since he’d transferred from Norfolk eight months ago. His sharp instincts must have been at work regarding the man because Tony had taken an instant dislike to the new agent. He was arrogant and full of his own self-importance from the minute he’d arrived in the navy yard. Tony had spent the last few months swinging between ignoring the agent whenever possible and baiting him until the felling of dislike was mutual.
No wonder Ackers had hit him so hard around the back of his head.
“Shut the fuck up,” Acker spat out.
Winding people up was his forte and it was a hard habit to break.
“W-what? S-struck a…a n-nerve h-have I? C-can’t g-get it u-up w-with a r-real w-women, th-that w-why y-you h-hang a-around w-with C-captain P-pedo there….”
He didn’t get to finish. Grey growled and launched himself.
Although the kick to the stomach wasn’t unexpected Tony couldn’t move fast enough to lessen the blow.
The force knocked him off his hands and knees sending him back down onto the ground but Grey didn’t stop there.
“I trusted you,” Grey shouted as his boot landed again and again. “I let you into my home...”
Tony curled into a protective ball and grunted as each blow landed. Wasn’t much else he could do.
Eventually Grey stopped, Tony wasn’t sure if it was by design or because Acker told him to. Either way he was mighty glad he had.
He turned his head and peered up at them again, forcing a grin onto his face even though his body was definitely not remotely happy.
Special Agent Ackers pulled out a gun and aimed.
Tony suspected that the weapon was his own confiscated gun. Great. Gibbs was going to love that one.
He shifted so he was more upright as rolling around in the detritus of the snowy woodland floor was so undignified.
If he was going to die then he’d damn well make sure he’d meet his maker wisecracking all the way.
“I t-take it th-this m-means o-our t-tennis m-match is c-cancelled on T-Tuesday, Chaz?”
“Oh, I think you’d better cancel all future appointments, DiNozzo,” Ackers said smugly, as Grey snorted in amusement, looking every bit like an obsequious henchman.
It was a clichéd Bond moment if ever there was one. The ridiculous posturing and gloating over his impending death was so lame.
They’d start talking about their plans for world domination next.
“Aww, a-and I h-had a d-dinner d-date with J-Jennifer Aniston n-next w-week,” Tony snarked and narrowly missed biting his tongue off as his teeth crashed together.
Talking shouldn’t have been this hard but Tony tried not to show how much he was hurting and continued to smirk at the two men.
“You think you’re such a funny man don’t you, DiNozzo, wont be so funny when you’re rotting, six foot under,” Grey snarled.
“L-like t-that k-kid I d-dug up in y-your b-back g-garden, G-gray?” Tony blinked and raised his hand as the flashlight beam shone straight into his eyes. “T-that m-make y-you f-feel like a b-big m-man to k-kill s-someone who p-probably w-weighed l-less than f-forty p-pounds?”
Tony saw the look of shock that appeared on both their faces.
“Yeah, Ackers, th-that’s what I d-do, I investigate, th-that’s why I’m a s-senior f-field agent and you’re j-just a s-schmuck. Is t-that w-what y-you p-p-planned to d-do to t-that g-girl t-tonight? R-rape and m-murder for k-kicks. Well f-fuck you b-both, s-she’s safe n-now.”
Tony curled his lip up in disgust and prayed that he was right about Imee.
“Where is she?” Ackers yelled.
Thank God, they hadn’t got her.
“S-she’s p-probably on t-the phone t-to the c-cops r-right n-now, you’re both s-screwed,” he said smugly even though he knew it was too late for him to benefit.
“He’s lying, Norman’s probably got her.” Grey shook his head.
Tony laughed.
“N-norm’s d-dead… m-may h-have a-accidentally b-broken his n-neck.”
Even in the yellow glow of the flashlight Tony could see Grey blanch. All color leeched from his face as panic set in. There was no way back now. People were going to notice a senator going missing. The FBI would be called in; everyone who knew him would be under scrutiny.
If Grey was shitting himself, then so was Ackers.
The wheels were definitely turning in the NCIS agent’s head too.
Ackers raised the gun and Tony heard the click as the safety was released.
He stared hard at Tony with a look of stark, explosive anger on his face.
~~~~~~ ~~~~~
Gibbs quickly picked up the trail; the broken branches, blood spots and flattened foliage were easy to spot even in the dark.
Five people moving through the woods in haste left a lot of clues.
They were both silent, each caught up in his own thoughts.
The unmistakable sound of a gunshot made Gibbs stop in his tracks.
His heart literally jumped into his throat as fear gripped his very soul.
Gibbs turned and stared at Vance…. then both of them started running.
TBC
R+R and I'll love ya forever.