Title: Underground
Character(s): Tony, Ziva
Genre(s): Action, gen
Word Count: 1892
When Tony and Ziva arrived at the house to bring in their suspect for questioning, they weren't sure Danny Torres was the right guy. He was thirty-two, charismatic and the last time they had spoken, he had openly flirted with Ziva and managed to survive it intact. But Abby worked her magic and dug out his medical records, which indicated a severe case of PTSD. Tony wasn't surprised, not after learning that Torres had been held captive for several weeks in Iraq, captured by enemy forces and tortured for information. Surprising was the fact that his files had obviously been tampered with. Still, they had no evidence they could use, apart from the knowledge that Torres had clearly lied to them during the first interview. It was reason enough to bring him in for a proper interrogation.
Things began to go haywire the moment Tony parked their car in front of Torres' cabin. They had just made it to the front porch when Ziva spotted movement behind one of the windows. She shot a warning look at Tony and he nodded, one arm reaching for his piece while the other knocked on the door.
"Daniel Torres? NCI-" He didn't get to finish, because the door exploded in a haze of bullets. Tony pulled away, partially hiding behind the wall. Ziva was already in motion, heading to the window where she last saw movement. While Tony waited for the hail of bullets to stop, trying to ignore the wooden chips that were flying around from the demolished door, Ziva tried to take a look inside.
"Damn!" She cursed, spotting a rifle attached to a tripod, the trigger held in place by duct tape. There was no sign of Torres.
"It's a decoy! Torres is gone!" She shouted at Tony and, without hesitating, used her gun to break the window, giving Tony the signal to take the back. Tony nodded and ran around the house, looking for a back door but finding none. There wasn’t even a cellar door, and every window he saw was closed. There was no sign that Torres had tried to get out, which meant the bastard was still inside the house... with Ziva. Tony returned to the front, where the rifle was now spent. There was only the sound of empty clicking, as Tony kicked out what was left of the front door. For a moment he didn't know where to go until he heard shooting. With a curse he followed the sound, only to find Ziva taking cover behind a wall, returning fire.
"He's holed up in the basement," she said and Tony grimaced.
"Yeah, I figured that. There's no other way out, he's trapped. We can just as well wait till he's out of ammo. Maybe call for a pizza," Tony added as another round of shots were fired.
"This doesn’t make sense.’ Ziva said. ‘He saw us coming; he could've escaped through one of the windows out back. Holing up in the basement is the most illogical thing to do."
"Maybe not," Tony said when the gunfire stopped suddenly.
"You didn't find a cellar door, did you?" Ziva asked and Tony shook his head with a frown.
"Of course not. There's no way out-" He paused and his eyes widened.
"You know how McGee blabbed on about how Torres bought this cabin ten years ago from an old mining company?"
"You think-"
"Oh yeah," Tony growled and left his hiding place. He counted to three silently and kicked out the door to the basement, while Ziva covered him with fire. There was no return fire from Torres. Cursing, they turned on their flashlights, and carefully walked down the steps, hoping Torres wasn't hiding somewhere in the corner, waiting to shoot them point blank.
The basement was empty.
"What the hell?" Tony turned around, the beam of his flashlight throwing strange shadows against the bleak walls, his nose scrunching at the moldy smell from wet carton boxes that littered the floor, filled with the same useless junk you could find in any basement. There was no sign of Torres, or any kind of door. But he couldn't have just vanished into thin air.
"There must be a hidden door somewhere," Ziva said and Tony nodded, peering at every crook, trying to find something that didn't fit. He began wondering if he should go looking for a candle and a lighter when Ziva pointed to an old washing machine crammed in a corner. Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly when she pointed her flashlight a little lower, to the floor. Clear markings indicated something heavy being moved repeatedly.
"We should call it in," Tony said after they'd pushed the washing machine out of the way, revealing a hole and a ladder leading down. "Maybe McGee could pull up some specs of the tunnels underground or something."
Ziva nodded and waited until Tony finished the call, and then climbed down the ladder, Tony close on her heels.
Luckily the tunnel seemed pretty stable. The walls were covered with wooden planks and there was even artificial lighting. While Tony had to bow his head, Ziva could walk comfortably. They started out at a good pace, hoping to catch up with Torres.
"You know, this reminds me of several horror movies... none of which ended well for the main protagonists," Tony muttered as they progressed deeper and deeper underground. They climbed another ladder and soon came to a crossing. There were two tunnels, one to the left, and one to the right.
"Damn," Tony said, while Ziva cursed in Hebrew.
There was no sign as to which one Torres could’ve chosen. No trail on the wooden planks, no traces of blood or anything else.
"Well, which one do you prefer?" Tony asked, always the gentleman. Ziva rolled her eyes, thinking. It wasn't about who went where, their chances were the same. It was the fact that after this crossing there could be many more and there was no way they could always chose the right one. What was worse, they could easily get lost. The wisest thing would be to return to the cabin and follow the tunnels above ground, with McGee's help.
"I bet McGee and Gibbs are already on their way, preferably with some blood hounds to help with the tracking. Do you want to go back or do we take the chance and go ahead?" Tony asked the question that was on her mind.
"What do you think?" she asked in return and Tony shrugged, pointing the flashlight into the right tunnel.
"I always wanted to give chase to a serial killer underground. Bonus points for it not being the sewers," Tony grinned, as if sharing an inside joke. Ziva shook her head, and then decided.
"I’ll take the left. If you have something you can use to mark your passage that would help in case you get lost."
"I never get lost," Tony said, but pulled out a marker they used on crime scenes and made an X sign on the right tunnel. "There. Do you have yours?"
Instead of an answer, Ziva pulled out her knife and scribbled a sign into the wood.
"Oh, impressive… Maybe you could do a Z like Zorro?"
"Only if you do an A for Ass," she replied and headed down the left tunnel.
“I love you too,” Tony muttered before going in the opposite direction.
He walked for several minutes in silence, frowning when he realized the tunnel was declining and heading deeper underground. The wooden planks were slowly replaced by stone and clay, with a support beam here and there. The light bulbs became sparse, and Tony had already turned on his flashlight to cut through the darkness. He slowed down, the hair on his neck standing to attention as his gut instinct screamed at him. When his foot stepped on glass shards, he stopped. Lifting his foot he saw the remains of what was once a light bulb. Looking up, he spotted the corresponding cord, still dangling. Gritting his teeth, Tony clutched his gun and started walking again. There was no doubt Torres chose this tunnel. While it meant Ziva would be wandering through the tunnels unnecessarily, at least she was safe from the killer. Tony on the other hand, had a feeling he was walking into another trap. But there was no way he would turn back now.
He should've though, Tony realized not ten minutes later, when he finally caught up with Torres. The killer waited for him at another crossroads. Tony's flashlight revealed three different tunnels. There was no way Tony could've kept an eye on all three at the same time. So when something flew out from the darkness, Tony instinctively ducked against the wall, flashlight sweeping around in a wide circle, gun poised. There. Something flew across the light beam-a small stone. Tony squeezed the trigger, cringing at the resounding echo. It was damn loud. Breathing hard, Tony turned around, pointing the gun to where he thought the stone had came from.
It was too late. Something hard knocked the flashlight out of his hands, and while Tony managed to fire another shot, it was too off target to do any damage. Torres lunged against the agent and they went down, tumbling and rolling on the floor, exchanging kicks and punches. Tony managed to use his gun once more, this time hitting flesh, but it must not have been a serious wound as Torres barely flinched. Strong hands gripped Tony's wrist and squeezed until he couldn't do more than release his grip on the gun.
Grunting, Tony tried to kick out, but Torres clearly had the upper hand. He was on top, keeping Tony down with his weight. This needed to change. Using his elbow, Tony struck out, hitting Torres on the side of his neck. Swaying, Torres gave Tony the chance he needed. Using their momentum, Tony pushed them both towards a declining tunnel. Gravity did the rest, and they both rolled down, picking up speed and bruises. Tony thought they would never stop, that they would just keep rolling down and down, into Earth's heart. It seemed like an eternity, but they finally hit a wall. Two bodies, tangled and beaten laid there, just breathing.
“You... Are... Under... Arrest…” Tony hissed through gritted teeth when he found the strength to move. Torres was breathing hard, but he didn't attempt to escape. Maybe he was too confused or he hit his head somewhere along the way. Tony just hoped he would stay that way. Moving painfully, Tony reached for his handcuffs, not wanting to risk anymore resistance. He had just put a handcuff over one of Torres' wrists, when he heard an ominous creek. Tony froze, not moving a muscle. He stopped breathing and just listened, hoping his gut was wrong. Maybe if he didn't move, it would all settle. Maybe if...
Torres chose that moment to come to his senses. Feeling the cold metal on his wrist, his first instinct was to pull away and kick whoever was holding him down. Tony didn't have a chance to warn him. He heard another creak and all he could do was think ‘Oh crap’, before the floor gave out and both the agent and the killer tumbled down into darkness.