How To Relate: Chapter 17
Title: How To Relate
Author: justhowthisgoes
Rating: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairing: None
Summary: Tony's been getting threatening letters and the team is worried, but Tony isn't taking them seriously. Then come the attempts on his life. Could the new girl at NCIS be involved? And will a secret from Tony's past be revealed in the search?
Warnings: Spoilers up to season 7
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Tony. *pouts* I bow to the genius of Donald P. Bellisario.
Chapter 17
Nothing Could Change Just How This Goes
Tony was a car guy. He handled cars well and he was an excellent driver. And for all of his unfortunate vehicle incidents (that most assuredly the majority of which were not his fault), he wasn't ordinarily the type to be accused of driving like a maniac. Not like, say, Gibbs or Ziva.
But today was not an ordinary day. Today Tony was channeling his inner East European cab driver in his haste to get to the abandoned factory down by the docks.
He pulled up across the street from a likely looking candidate, paint peeling and roof caving in, with several windows that appeared to have been smashed by vandals. Checking the address on the front of the building against the address he had scribbled on the back of his hand in lieu of paper, just in case he should forget it, he determined that he had arrived at the correct place.
The phone still attached to his ear, as it had been since he'd left Abby, Tony drove around the dilapidated factory and saw a dark jeep parked in back. Someone was definitely in there.
He parked next to the jeep and pressed speed-dial 1 once more, swearing under his breath when he got yet another recording. The phone gave a sudden pathetic beep, interrupting the call, and began to shut down.
Of all times for the battery to die.
When was the last time he had charged the stupid thing? Monday, it would have to be. And today was Thursday. All in all, he was lucky it had lasted this long.
Lucky. He snorted. Some kind of luck. At least he had gotten his message through before it died. Hopefully.
Disgusted, he tossed the phone carelessly over on the passenger seat before getting out of the car. The slam of the door seemed deafening and he winced as it echoed through the nearly vacant lot. So much for the element of surprise. Assuming it was even on his side to begin with.
Tony stood there a moment, running a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He knew it was. And yet, he had to do it. He'd never forgive himself if-
Don't think that way DiNozzo. His internal Gibbs voice told him.
Right Boss. Not thinking that way.
But he couldn't help it.
What would Gibbs do if he were here right now?
Well, one thing, for sure. He reached his good hand back and headslapped himself.
It calmed him, centered him, even though he knew, had Gibbs actually been there, he would have been headslapping him for entirely different reasons.
Well, nothing for it now. He headed for the faded old building, his hand resting reassuringly on the butt of his Sig, and gave a gusty sigh of resignation.
"Gibbs is gonna kill me."
"I'm gonna kill him," Gibbs growled as he sped down the road, listening for the third time to a recorded message saying that Tony's phone was switched off or out of its service area. "Never be unreachable. DiNozzo knows that."
In the back, Ziva and McGee shared a commiserating glance, as if imagining the less than pleasant prospect of pissing off their boss while he was in this less than pleasant mood.
Gibbs closed the phone with a snap, then suddenly opened it again and dialed Abby.
She answered on the first ring in her usual chipper tone. "You've reached the lab of Abigail Scuito, forensic expert extraordinaire. How may I direct your call?"
"Abbs. We were at Giordani's house. Found nothing. No one's been living there for a while. Have you got anything else for me?"
"You mean, other than the factory address?"
Gibbs paused. "Factory?"
"Well, Tony called you, didn't he? As soon as I figured out where those fibers came from he got on his phone and rushed out of here. I just assumed he was calling you."
Gibbs looked at the screen of his phone. 27 missed calls. He sighed. Broke his own rule. "Yeah Abbs, he tried. I guess we were out of range. Where's Tony now?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't seen him since he rushed out of here."
"Well, when you see him, tell him to-"
McGee spoke up from the back seat. "Uh, Boss?"
Gibbs half turned in his seat, a rather dangerous thing to do when driving, particularly at his current speed, to shoot McGee an icy glare for interrupting him. "What?" he barked.
McGee gulped slightly. "Er, well, I just got a text from Tony. I guess I didn't get it earlier when we were out of range."
Ziva peered over his shoulder interestedly.
Gibbs sighed and turned back to face the road. "Well, what's it say McGee?"
McGee listed the address and Gibbs read it back to Abby.
"Is that the factory Abbs?"
"Yup. That's the one."
"Alright Abbs, we're on our way back. We'll-"
"Boss," McGee interrupted again. "Boss, after that it says 'meet you there.'"
What came out of the ex-Marine's mouth next was virtually unrecognizable as proper English-and in truth it's quite possible that only part of the string of oaths he let loose was even in a language known to man. His passengers clung desperately to anything within reach as Gibbs all at once slammed the phone shut, flipped a sharp U-turn, gunned the engine, and zoomed in the direction of the docks with accelerator floored and tires squealing riotously, leaving only skid marks on the pavement and the faint reek of burnt rubber in their wake."Gibbs? Hello? Gibbs?"
Dead air was the forensic tech's only answer and she ended the call, frowning.
Her silver fox had just hung up on her after a stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush, leaving Abby confused and slightly put out, as she hadn't heard McGee's last statement.
She picked up the phone again and dialed Tony's number in order to tell him she'd talked to Gibbs, but kept getting the same recording that, unbeknownst to her, Gibbs had been annoyed at reaching.
"Huh. That's hinky," she mused aloud. "Tony never turns off his phone, and there's nowhere in the building that's out of cell range."
A scary notion occurred to her and she realized that Gibbs must've had the same thought.
But Tony wouldn't. Would he?
He would if he couldn't get hold of Gibbs.
Well, either way, she could check it out. Even if Tony's phone was off, dead, or out of its service area, as long as the GPS chip wasn't destroyed it would still be transmitting. Abby immediately went to her computer to track it… and found that it was exactly where she had hoped it wouldn't be. At the docks. Right where the factory was.
Abby was suddenly struck with an awful, overwhelming fear.
"Oh Gibbs. Hurry."
Tony pulled the door toward him; it was deceptively heavy. Creaking slowly open, it allowed a small sliver of daylight into the dank, dim room ahead. As he proceeded warily in, his Sig ready out in front of him, the door abruptly swung shut with an ominous clang, plunging the room into relative darkness. He stopped and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden gloom.
He heard nothing but the steady drip, drip of a leaky pipe. Until someone spoke.
"Well, if it isn't Antonio DeVecchi. Or I guess I should say, Detective Anthony DiNozzo. Fancy meeting you here."
Tony immediately swung his gun to point at the familiar voice, and what he saw was just what he had been expecting.
Being right didn't make it any easier though.
Vincent Giordani stood about ten meters away by the far wall holding Tony's own 22 against the side of Ali's head as she sat, bound to a chair and gagged, looking a little the worse for wear.
"Federal Agent. Drop your weapon!" Tony shouted, his confident voice belying any apprehension he felt.
"Oh, that's right. It's Agent DiNozzo. I forgot; you're a fed now. Huh. Some federal agency though. Navy cops," Giordani snickered disdainfully. "I never even heard of NCSI before."
Tony didn't bother to tell him he had the wrong acronym. "Well, pretty soon you'll be wishing you could still say that. Drop. Your. Weapon," he ordered again, his Sig firmly trained on the larger man's heart.
Giordani appeared to consider it for a moment. "Hmmm. No, I don't think I will. What are you gonna do? Shoot me? You can go ahead and try… but will you be able to get me before I get her? No, Agent DiNozzo," he spit the name as though it were poison. "You drop your weapon. Now. Or I'll put a bullet in her brain."
Tony hesitated. He knew he should just shoot him. But what if he wasn't fast enough? What if he missed? What if… He cursed silently. Gibbs had been right. He was too close to this.
"You know I'll do it." Giordani warned, pushing the gun harder into Ali's head.
"Alright. Alright." Tony held up his hands and then slowly and carefully placed his Sig on the ground. Come on Gibbs. "Just let her go. Your beef is with me, not her. She has nothing to do with this."
"Well, I don't know. I'd say anyone who has anything to do with you deserves whatever they get. Who is she anyway? Flavor of the week?" He yanked Ali's hair, pulling her head back, and leered down at her. "She is pretty, I'll give you that."
Ali blinked back tears at the pain, but didn't let out a sound.
He struggled not to, but Tony visibly reacted to this abuse, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists to stop from hurling himself across the room and beating Giordani to death with his bare hands. He knew he would never make it that far.
Giordani noticed his reaction. "Somehow I get the feeling this chick's more important to you than that. She means something to you, doesn't she?"
"No." Tony lied. "Not really. I only just met her at work."
Giordani didn't look convinced. "Really. Then why are you here?"
"Kidnapping of an NCIS employee makes it our jurisdiction." He wasn't sure whether this was true, but it sounded good, nonetheless.
"Well, maybe it does. But you wouldn't do this for just anyone."
"I do this every day. It's my job."
"Every day you go off half-cocked, with no backup?" Giordani tsked. "I don't think so. Sloppy. Emotional. That's what this says to me. You're here for a much more personal reason."
Tony schooled his features and tried to look blank. "I just happened to be in the area already. The rest of my team is on their way. They'll be here any minute." He fervently hoped that he wasn't lying through his teeth, that McGee had gotten his text, that Gibbs had listened to any one of his several messages. "Give it up Vinnie."
Giordani released Ali's hair, keeping the gun to her head, and stared at Tony. "No. You're lying. Nobody's coming." He broke into a malicious grin. "You're a hard man to kill, you know that? I thought for sure that my little bomb had done the trick, but no, you show up again like nothing even happened. Like a cockroach."
Tony gave an easy smile that contradicted with both his on-guard demeanor and his inner tension. "What can I say? Takes more than a scum like you to kill me."
Giordani grinned again. "Those are pretty bold words. Or stupid ones. Maybe I need to remind you that I have a hostage. I could easily wring her skinny little neck." He reached a beefy arm around Ali's windpipe and Tony could see the fear in her eyes as her air was restricted.
Tony held up his hands submissively, attempting to pacify the man. "All right, all right. Let's just calm down. No need to do anything rash." Only when Giordani had released Ali did he think it safe to pose another question. "So why kidnap her anyway, huh? Why not me? Or why not just kill me when you had the chance? I thought that's what you were after, though I gotta say, I'm a little fuzzy on the reason."
Giordani gave a mirthless chuckle. "Well, you see, when I found out that that you weren't dead yet I started getting… annoyed. Then I thought about it, and I decided I was actually glad the bomb didn't kill you. You wouldn't have suffered enough. Besides, I enjoy a challenge, and I figured a little torture would be in order. I was waiting for you to be alone last night, but I'm sure you remember how impatient I can be, Anthony. So when your other friends left, I thought that she was staying, and I went for it. Of course I couldn't leave any witnesses, and one body more or less doesn't make too big of a difference. But then your friends came back right in the middle and screwed that up. So I decided I could use her. I thought she might be…" he licked his lips lasciviously, "fun. Besides, it's obvious that you care about her."
Tony shook his head. "I already told you that I barely know her."
Giordani raised his eyebrows. "Right. Whatever you say. You know," he began conversationally; "I was planning on sending you something to let you know I had her. A lock of hair maybe? A finger? But here you are anyway, before I even had the chance. Maybe I'm losing my touch. I haven't done this for a while."
"That's right. You had a good thing going, Vinnie." Tony knew he had to keep him talking, stalling for Gibbs to show up. "Witness Protection. Why screw that up?"
"Somebody recognized me. And then, of course, I had to kill them. If Mike found out I wasn't dead… I would be." He scowled darkly.
"Macaluso? But you know he's in prison. Won't be eligible for parole for years."
"You think you took down Mike?" Giordani scoffed. "It doesn't matter; he still has connections and they're all still out there. Same famiglia, just a different head. You certainly did me no favors. And what I realized is, this whole thing comes down to you. It's your fault. And you're gonna pay."
Tony shrugged, defensively. "Hey, you're the one who turned witness on Macaluso. I had nothing to do with that."
Giordani snarled. "Yeah, well, once the FBI started sniffing around, dropping my name, it wouldn't matter whether I turned witness or not, I was gonna disappear either way. If Mike thought I might roll over on him he wouldn't take no chances."
"Any." Tony corrected automatically.
"What?"
"He wouldn't take any chances, Vinnie. Otherwise it's a double negative."
Giordani stared at him and began laughing. It was a chilling sound. "You always did have a smart mouth, Antonio. This could almost be like old times."
"Yeah," Tony agreed lightly, beginning to doubt the man's mental stability. "Sure Vinnie."
His eyes wandered over to his Sig where it lay on the ground to his left. His hands itched for it and he shifted his weight ever so slightly, addressing Giordani again to distract from his movement.
"If you think Mike would be so quick to believe that you had betrayed him, why work for him? Why have any loyalty toward him in the first place?"
Giordani shook his head. "You don't understand anything about loyalty, do you Antonio? After this factory shut down, my family was left with nothing. I had nothing-I was nothing until Mike introduced me to the famiglia. Then I had a purpose."
"Yeah. As a murdering thug," Tony replied sarcastically.
Giordani laughed again. "You know, I liked you Antonio. Your sense of humor. It was part of the reason I brought you into the family. But then you betrayed us."
Tony took a subtle half step nearer to his weapon.
Not subtle enough. Giordani immediately pointed the 22 at him.
"Don't even think about it. One move toward that gun and you're dead," he promised. "And then who will save poor little baby sister?"
Tony had stopped dead in his tracks, his hands up, when he realized what the man had said. The shock must've shown on his face.
"Oh that's right." Giordani's eyes glinted. "I should've mentioned that I got Ali here to tell me all about your little reunion. Frankly, I was touched. It was just like one of those Hallmark movies." He laughed scornfully.
Ali's eyes apologized out of her bruised face and a tear escaped, trickling slowly down one cheek.
Tony spoke very calmly. "Ok, all right. Fine. Just let her go. She has nothing to do with this. I'm the one you want to kill."
"You wound me Antonio. What makes you think I'd want to kill you?" Giordani protested mockingly.
"Is that a rhetorical question, Vinnie? Well, I'd say the death threats were my first clue. And then the bomb was sort of a dead giveaway." Absolutely no pun intended, Tony added in his mind.
Giordani snickered as he pointed the gun back at Ali. "Ok, you got me. I guess I do want to kill you. But I'm not going to. Not yet anyway. First you're going to watch me have a little fun with your sister. It's got sort of a, what do ya call it, poetic justice to it, don't you think? You destroy my famiglia, I destroy yours. And by the time I'm through," his voice became deadly, "you'll be begging me to kill you."
Without moving the gun an inch from where it pressed up against Ali's skull or taking his eyes off of Tony, he grabbed Ali's little finger and bent it back hard. Tony heard the sickening crack of bone and Ali's cry of pain, muffled into a whimper by the gag. More tears rolled down her face.
Nearly blinded by the scorching rage building up in him, Tony only realized that he was biting the inside of his cheek when he tasted blood.
"You dirty son of-" he seethed, unable to get anything more out as he choked on blood and bile.
Giordani laughed. "You kiss your baby sister with that mouth?"
Tony swallowed hard. "Just let her go, Vinnie. I'll do anything you want." He was starting to get more desperate, doubting that Gibbs had gotten his message, or if he had, doubting that he would get there in time.
"Hmm…" Giordani shook his head. "No, I think you'll do what I want anyway. Are we having fun yet Anthony? No? Well, I know what would make it better for me. Hearing her scream next time. What do you think?"
As he spoke, still looking at Tony, he reached to pull off Ali's gag.
"It's a real pity you two won't get a chance to know each other any better. You know, I'm a reasonable guy. Maybe I'll even give you some time to have a little chat before I-"
Giordani let out a howl of pain and surprise. Ali had bitten his hand. Hard, judging by the volume of his yell. He turned and backhanded her across the face with such force that the chair to which she was bound was knocked on its side.
Taking advantage of those few seconds of distraction, Tony made his move. He launched himself to the side toward his Sig.
The other man caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned the 22 back onto Tony at the same moment that Tony reached his own gun and, still on the ground, turned, aimed, and fired once, twice, three times. Three rounds directly into his heart.
Giordani looked down, his mouth a round o of surprise, as blood blossomed on his shirt. Then he fell heavily to the ground and moved no more.
Tony was still crouched on the floor, breathless and panting, adrenaline coursing through his veins. After a shocked silence, Ali seemed to be screaming something, her mouth open and tears streaming freely from her eyes, but for some reason Tony couldn't quite make out what she was saying.
He began to stand, to go to her, but as he moved, the vague burning in his ribs that he'd felt since diving to the floor transformed into something more akin to a white hot poker being thrust into his side. He doubled over, biting back a cry, his hand automatically moving to the area as if to hold at bay the breathtaking agony. He pulled it away; warm, sticky, and red.
"Crap," he thought as the room drifted out of focus and the ground tilted up to meet him. "Gibbs is so gonna kill me."
...
Chapter 18
Author: justhowthisgoes
Rating: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairing: None
Summary: Tony's been getting threatening letters and the team is worried, but Tony isn't taking them seriously. Then come the attempts on his life. Could the new girl at NCIS be involved? And will a secret from Tony's past be revealed in the search?
Warnings: Spoilers up to season 7
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Tony. *pouts* I bow to the genius of Donald P. Bellisario.
Chapter 17
Nothing Could Change Just How This Goes
Tony was a car guy. He handled cars well and he was an excellent driver. And for all of his unfortunate vehicle incidents (that most assuredly the majority of which were not his fault), he wasn't ordinarily the type to be accused of driving like a maniac. Not like, say, Gibbs or Ziva.
But today was not an ordinary day. Today Tony was channeling his inner East European cab driver in his haste to get to the abandoned factory down by the docks.
He pulled up across the street from a likely looking candidate, paint peeling and roof caving in, with several windows that appeared to have been smashed by vandals. Checking the address on the front of the building against the address he had scribbled on the back of his hand in lieu of paper, just in case he should forget it, he determined that he had arrived at the correct place.
The phone still attached to his ear, as it had been since he'd left Abby, Tony drove around the dilapidated factory and saw a dark jeep parked in back. Someone was definitely in there.
He parked next to the jeep and pressed speed-dial 1 once more, swearing under his breath when he got yet another recording. The phone gave a sudden pathetic beep, interrupting the call, and began to shut down.
Of all times for the battery to die.
When was the last time he had charged the stupid thing? Monday, it would have to be. And today was Thursday. All in all, he was lucky it had lasted this long.
Lucky. He snorted. Some kind of luck. At least he had gotten his message through before it died. Hopefully.
Disgusted, he tossed the phone carelessly over on the passenger seat before getting out of the car. The slam of the door seemed deafening and he winced as it echoed through the nearly vacant lot. So much for the element of surprise. Assuming it was even on his side to begin with.
Tony stood there a moment, running a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He knew it was. And yet, he had to do it. He'd never forgive himself if-
Don't think that way DiNozzo. His internal Gibbs voice told him.
Right Boss. Not thinking that way.
But he couldn't help it.
What would Gibbs do if he were here right now?
Well, one thing, for sure. He reached his good hand back and headslapped himself.
It calmed him, centered him, even though he knew, had Gibbs actually been there, he would have been headslapping him for entirely different reasons.
Well, nothing for it now. He headed for the faded old building, his hand resting reassuringly on the butt of his Sig, and gave a gusty sigh of resignation.
"Gibbs is gonna kill me."
"I'm gonna kill him," Gibbs growled as he sped down the road, listening for the third time to a recorded message saying that Tony's phone was switched off or out of its service area. "Never be unreachable. DiNozzo knows that."
In the back, Ziva and McGee shared a commiserating glance, as if imagining the less than pleasant prospect of pissing off their boss while he was in this less than pleasant mood.
Gibbs closed the phone with a snap, then suddenly opened it again and dialed Abby.
She answered on the first ring in her usual chipper tone. "You've reached the lab of Abigail Scuito, forensic expert extraordinaire. How may I direct your call?"
"Abbs. We were at Giordani's house. Found nothing. No one's been living there for a while. Have you got anything else for me?"
"You mean, other than the factory address?"
Gibbs paused. "Factory?"
"Well, Tony called you, didn't he? As soon as I figured out where those fibers came from he got on his phone and rushed out of here. I just assumed he was calling you."
Gibbs looked at the screen of his phone. 27 missed calls. He sighed. Broke his own rule. "Yeah Abbs, he tried. I guess we were out of range. Where's Tony now?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't seen him since he rushed out of here."
"Well, when you see him, tell him to-"
McGee spoke up from the back seat. "Uh, Boss?"
Gibbs half turned in his seat, a rather dangerous thing to do when driving, particularly at his current speed, to shoot McGee an icy glare for interrupting him. "What?" he barked.
McGee gulped slightly. "Er, well, I just got a text from Tony. I guess I didn't get it earlier when we were out of range."
Ziva peered over his shoulder interestedly.
Gibbs sighed and turned back to face the road. "Well, what's it say McGee?"
McGee listed the address and Gibbs read it back to Abby.
"Is that the factory Abbs?"
"Yup. That's the one."
"Alright Abbs, we're on our way back. We'll-"
"Boss," McGee interrupted again. "Boss, after that it says 'meet you there.'"
What came out of the ex-Marine's mouth next was virtually unrecognizable as proper English-and in truth it's quite possible that only part of the string of oaths he let loose was even in a language known to man. His passengers clung desperately to anything within reach as Gibbs all at once slammed the phone shut, flipped a sharp U-turn, gunned the engine, and zoomed in the direction of the docks with accelerator floored and tires squealing riotously, leaving only skid marks on the pavement and the faint reek of burnt rubber in their wake."Gibbs? Hello? Gibbs?"
Dead air was the forensic tech's only answer and she ended the call, frowning.
Her silver fox had just hung up on her after a stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush, leaving Abby confused and slightly put out, as she hadn't heard McGee's last statement.
She picked up the phone again and dialed Tony's number in order to tell him she'd talked to Gibbs, but kept getting the same recording that, unbeknownst to her, Gibbs had been annoyed at reaching.
"Huh. That's hinky," she mused aloud. "Tony never turns off his phone, and there's nowhere in the building that's out of cell range."
A scary notion occurred to her and she realized that Gibbs must've had the same thought.
But Tony wouldn't. Would he?
He would if he couldn't get hold of Gibbs.
Well, either way, she could check it out. Even if Tony's phone was off, dead, or out of its service area, as long as the GPS chip wasn't destroyed it would still be transmitting. Abby immediately went to her computer to track it… and found that it was exactly where she had hoped it wouldn't be. At the docks. Right where the factory was.
Abby was suddenly struck with an awful, overwhelming fear.
"Oh Gibbs. Hurry."
Tony pulled the door toward him; it was deceptively heavy. Creaking slowly open, it allowed a small sliver of daylight into the dank, dim room ahead. As he proceeded warily in, his Sig ready out in front of him, the door abruptly swung shut with an ominous clang, plunging the room into relative darkness. He stopped and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden gloom.
He heard nothing but the steady drip, drip of a leaky pipe. Until someone spoke.
"Well, if it isn't Antonio DeVecchi. Or I guess I should say, Detective Anthony DiNozzo. Fancy meeting you here."
Tony immediately swung his gun to point at the familiar voice, and what he saw was just what he had been expecting.
Being right didn't make it any easier though.
Vincent Giordani stood about ten meters away by the far wall holding Tony's own 22 against the side of Ali's head as she sat, bound to a chair and gagged, looking a little the worse for wear.
"Federal Agent. Drop your weapon!" Tony shouted, his confident voice belying any apprehension he felt.
"Oh, that's right. It's Agent DiNozzo. I forgot; you're a fed now. Huh. Some federal agency though. Navy cops," Giordani snickered disdainfully. "I never even heard of NCSI before."
Tony didn't bother to tell him he had the wrong acronym. "Well, pretty soon you'll be wishing you could still say that. Drop. Your. Weapon," he ordered again, his Sig firmly trained on the larger man's heart.
Giordani appeared to consider it for a moment. "Hmmm. No, I don't think I will. What are you gonna do? Shoot me? You can go ahead and try… but will you be able to get me before I get her? No, Agent DiNozzo," he spit the name as though it were poison. "You drop your weapon. Now. Or I'll put a bullet in her brain."
Tony hesitated. He knew he should just shoot him. But what if he wasn't fast enough? What if he missed? What if… He cursed silently. Gibbs had been right. He was too close to this.
"You know I'll do it." Giordani warned, pushing the gun harder into Ali's head.
"Alright. Alright." Tony held up his hands and then slowly and carefully placed his Sig on the ground. Come on Gibbs. "Just let her go. Your beef is with me, not her. She has nothing to do with this."
"Well, I don't know. I'd say anyone who has anything to do with you deserves whatever they get. Who is she anyway? Flavor of the week?" He yanked Ali's hair, pulling her head back, and leered down at her. "She is pretty, I'll give you that."
Ali blinked back tears at the pain, but didn't let out a sound.
He struggled not to, but Tony visibly reacted to this abuse, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists to stop from hurling himself across the room and beating Giordani to death with his bare hands. He knew he would never make it that far.
Giordani noticed his reaction. "Somehow I get the feeling this chick's more important to you than that. She means something to you, doesn't she?"
"No." Tony lied. "Not really. I only just met her at work."
Giordani didn't look convinced. "Really. Then why are you here?"
"Kidnapping of an NCIS employee makes it our jurisdiction." He wasn't sure whether this was true, but it sounded good, nonetheless.
"Well, maybe it does. But you wouldn't do this for just anyone."
"I do this every day. It's my job."
"Every day you go off half-cocked, with no backup?" Giordani tsked. "I don't think so. Sloppy. Emotional. That's what this says to me. You're here for a much more personal reason."
Tony schooled his features and tried to look blank. "I just happened to be in the area already. The rest of my team is on their way. They'll be here any minute." He fervently hoped that he wasn't lying through his teeth, that McGee had gotten his text, that Gibbs had listened to any one of his several messages. "Give it up Vinnie."
Giordani released Ali's hair, keeping the gun to her head, and stared at Tony. "No. You're lying. Nobody's coming." He broke into a malicious grin. "You're a hard man to kill, you know that? I thought for sure that my little bomb had done the trick, but no, you show up again like nothing even happened. Like a cockroach."
Tony gave an easy smile that contradicted with both his on-guard demeanor and his inner tension. "What can I say? Takes more than a scum like you to kill me."
Giordani grinned again. "Those are pretty bold words. Or stupid ones. Maybe I need to remind you that I have a hostage. I could easily wring her skinny little neck." He reached a beefy arm around Ali's windpipe and Tony could see the fear in her eyes as her air was restricted.
Tony held up his hands submissively, attempting to pacify the man. "All right, all right. Let's just calm down. No need to do anything rash." Only when Giordani had released Ali did he think it safe to pose another question. "So why kidnap her anyway, huh? Why not me? Or why not just kill me when you had the chance? I thought that's what you were after, though I gotta say, I'm a little fuzzy on the reason."
Giordani gave a mirthless chuckle. "Well, you see, when I found out that that you weren't dead yet I started getting… annoyed. Then I thought about it, and I decided I was actually glad the bomb didn't kill you. You wouldn't have suffered enough. Besides, I enjoy a challenge, and I figured a little torture would be in order. I was waiting for you to be alone last night, but I'm sure you remember how impatient I can be, Anthony. So when your other friends left, I thought that she was staying, and I went for it. Of course I couldn't leave any witnesses, and one body more or less doesn't make too big of a difference. But then your friends came back right in the middle and screwed that up. So I decided I could use her. I thought she might be…" he licked his lips lasciviously, "fun. Besides, it's obvious that you care about her."
Tony shook his head. "I already told you that I barely know her."
Giordani raised his eyebrows. "Right. Whatever you say. You know," he began conversationally; "I was planning on sending you something to let you know I had her. A lock of hair maybe? A finger? But here you are anyway, before I even had the chance. Maybe I'm losing my touch. I haven't done this for a while."
"That's right. You had a good thing going, Vinnie." Tony knew he had to keep him talking, stalling for Gibbs to show up. "Witness Protection. Why screw that up?"
"Somebody recognized me. And then, of course, I had to kill them. If Mike found out I wasn't dead… I would be." He scowled darkly.
"Macaluso? But you know he's in prison. Won't be eligible for parole for years."
"You think you took down Mike?" Giordani scoffed. "It doesn't matter; he still has connections and they're all still out there. Same famiglia, just a different head. You certainly did me no favors. And what I realized is, this whole thing comes down to you. It's your fault. And you're gonna pay."
Tony shrugged, defensively. "Hey, you're the one who turned witness on Macaluso. I had nothing to do with that."
Giordani snarled. "Yeah, well, once the FBI started sniffing around, dropping my name, it wouldn't matter whether I turned witness or not, I was gonna disappear either way. If Mike thought I might roll over on him he wouldn't take no chances."
"Any." Tony corrected automatically.
"What?"
"He wouldn't take any chances, Vinnie. Otherwise it's a double negative."
Giordani stared at him and began laughing. It was a chilling sound. "You always did have a smart mouth, Antonio. This could almost be like old times."
"Yeah," Tony agreed lightly, beginning to doubt the man's mental stability. "Sure Vinnie."
His eyes wandered over to his Sig where it lay on the ground to his left. His hands itched for it and he shifted his weight ever so slightly, addressing Giordani again to distract from his movement.
"If you think Mike would be so quick to believe that you had betrayed him, why work for him? Why have any loyalty toward him in the first place?"
Giordani shook his head. "You don't understand anything about loyalty, do you Antonio? After this factory shut down, my family was left with nothing. I had nothing-I was nothing until Mike introduced me to the famiglia. Then I had a purpose."
"Yeah. As a murdering thug," Tony replied sarcastically.
Giordani laughed again. "You know, I liked you Antonio. Your sense of humor. It was part of the reason I brought you into the family. But then you betrayed us."
Tony took a subtle half step nearer to his weapon.
Not subtle enough. Giordani immediately pointed the 22 at him.
"Don't even think about it. One move toward that gun and you're dead," he promised. "And then who will save poor little baby sister?"
Tony had stopped dead in his tracks, his hands up, when he realized what the man had said. The shock must've shown on his face.
"Oh that's right." Giordani's eyes glinted. "I should've mentioned that I got Ali here to tell me all about your little reunion. Frankly, I was touched. It was just like one of those Hallmark movies." He laughed scornfully.
Ali's eyes apologized out of her bruised face and a tear escaped, trickling slowly down one cheek.
Tony spoke very calmly. "Ok, all right. Fine. Just let her go. She has nothing to do with this. I'm the one you want to kill."
"You wound me Antonio. What makes you think I'd want to kill you?" Giordani protested mockingly.
"Is that a rhetorical question, Vinnie? Well, I'd say the death threats were my first clue. And then the bomb was sort of a dead giveaway." Absolutely no pun intended, Tony added in his mind.
Giordani snickered as he pointed the gun back at Ali. "Ok, you got me. I guess I do want to kill you. But I'm not going to. Not yet anyway. First you're going to watch me have a little fun with your sister. It's got sort of a, what do ya call it, poetic justice to it, don't you think? You destroy my famiglia, I destroy yours. And by the time I'm through," his voice became deadly, "you'll be begging me to kill you."
Without moving the gun an inch from where it pressed up against Ali's skull or taking his eyes off of Tony, he grabbed Ali's little finger and bent it back hard. Tony heard the sickening crack of bone and Ali's cry of pain, muffled into a whimper by the gag. More tears rolled down her face.
Nearly blinded by the scorching rage building up in him, Tony only realized that he was biting the inside of his cheek when he tasted blood.
"You dirty son of-" he seethed, unable to get anything more out as he choked on blood and bile.
Giordani laughed. "You kiss your baby sister with that mouth?"
Tony swallowed hard. "Just let her go, Vinnie. I'll do anything you want." He was starting to get more desperate, doubting that Gibbs had gotten his message, or if he had, doubting that he would get there in time.
"Hmm…" Giordani shook his head. "No, I think you'll do what I want anyway. Are we having fun yet Anthony? No? Well, I know what would make it better for me. Hearing her scream next time. What do you think?"
As he spoke, still looking at Tony, he reached to pull off Ali's gag.
"It's a real pity you two won't get a chance to know each other any better. You know, I'm a reasonable guy. Maybe I'll even give you some time to have a little chat before I-"
Giordani let out a howl of pain and surprise. Ali had bitten his hand. Hard, judging by the volume of his yell. He turned and backhanded her across the face with such force that the chair to which she was bound was knocked on its side.
Taking advantage of those few seconds of distraction, Tony made his move. He launched himself to the side toward his Sig.
The other man caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned the 22 back onto Tony at the same moment that Tony reached his own gun and, still on the ground, turned, aimed, and fired once, twice, three times. Three rounds directly into his heart.
Giordani looked down, his mouth a round o of surprise, as blood blossomed on his shirt. Then he fell heavily to the ground and moved no more.
Tony was still crouched on the floor, breathless and panting, adrenaline coursing through his veins. After a shocked silence, Ali seemed to be screaming something, her mouth open and tears streaming freely from her eyes, but for some reason Tony couldn't quite make out what she was saying.
He began to stand, to go to her, but as he moved, the vague burning in his ribs that he'd felt since diving to the floor transformed into something more akin to a white hot poker being thrust into his side. He doubled over, biting back a cry, his hand automatically moving to the area as if to hold at bay the breathtaking agony. He pulled it away; warm, sticky, and red.
"Crap," he thought as the room drifted out of focus and the ground tilted up to meet him. "Gibbs is so gonna kill me."
...
Chapter 18