Title: Compartmental
Author: Jasmine
Date: August 9, 2013
Universe: NCIS Season 6
Rated: PG
Summary: Tony is thrown overboard and his ability to survive depends on factors beyond his control.
Chapter 1
Tony bounced on the cushioned seat of the luxury 68 foot Azimut Yacht. With a top speed of nearly 40 miles per hour and the perfect amount of V in its hull, the boat should have been slicing through the waves like a hot knife through butter, but it was doing less slicing and more colliding as it crashed into the waves. Given the fact that they were really five foot swells and the cushions weren't nearly as soft as they should have been on a boat of this quality, Tony braced himself for the jolts and jerks that the ride was providing.
"You know," Tony yelled to the goon with an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder, "your boat isn't nearly as smooth as you might think. I'm being tossed around back here like a baseball at a ballpark. Why don't you uncuff me so I can hang on a little better?"
"No worries, man," he drawled in a thick Australian accent. "We be picking up your mates soon. You can lean against one of 'em for balance if you haveta."
Tony exhaled. What a mess he had gotten himself into. It wasn't entirely his fault, though. In fact, it wasn't his fault at all. He was just following orders from the boss-man, but then something went terribly wrong and here he was, off the coast of the Mid-Atlantic States, speeding north to destinations unknown. Considering the way this case had been shaping up, none of this should have surprised him.
Exactly when the case went south, though, was worth pondering. Gibbs had gotten the bat signal five days ago about a dead navy commander in Norfolk. It took a little longer than they would have liked, but they eventually discovered that he'd been murdered by an Aussie named Duggard "One-Leg" Rawlings. Rawlings was the equivalent of a modern day pirate but with much higher living standards, and when Commander Nelson T. Burke discovered that "One-Leg" had been stealing from the U.S. Navy, he set about putting an end to it. Unfortunately, it cost the commander his life, but he did manage to leave behind enough clues to put Rawlings straight in the cross hairs of Gibbs. In usual Leroy fashion, he wasn't satisfied with the evidence; he wanted a confession. And that was the reason DiNozzo was being bounced around on the back of the Azimut trying to keep from falling overboard.
Duggard "One-Leg" Rawlings stumped down the steps to his prisoner, "I'm sorry about the conditions, Mate, but you didn't leave me much choice."
"It's par for the course, I guess."
"You seem to be taking your pending death rather well."
Tony thought back to the last three times he had encountered "One-Leg". He was a formidable foe, and had nearly killed him on two previous occasions, but as luck would have it, Tony managed to survive both attempts, only to land square in the palm of his hand right now. "Well, it's like my father always told me: You can't live forever."
"Your father must have been an idiot."
"No, he isn't an idiot. He may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. Where are we going?"
"I have a short stop to make before I dispose of you. I think you'll like the cargo I'm picking up."
He didn't like the way One-Leg spit out his words. Turning his head away, Tony looked out portside across the water at the coastline that was three to four hundred yards off. They had been riding parallel to it for almost two hours. The only thing of remote interest up north to a guy like Rawlings was the Navy Yard, and that thought didn't set too well.
Tony pushed back in his seat, wondering what One-Leg Rawlings was planning.
****8
By noon, Tony was seeing the familiar sights of Fort Hunt as they cruised the Potomac River through Alexandria and up towards the Washington Navy Yard. There were many places to slip a small boat like the Asimut and nobody would ask any questions. Yachts were a fairly common site along these waters where lobbyists and criminals courted the nation's most powerful.
"Get below," the no-neck goon ordered.
Tony stood and made his way to the metal staircase that took him down to the state rooms below. The goon followed. It may have been small, but no expense was spared to outfit the room in white leather furniture and shiny oak hardwood floors. He sat down on the sofa and leaned back. It felt good not to have to worry about keeping his balance anymore and he relaxed as much as he could under the circumstances. "So, Bubba, where are we going?"
"Mr. Rawlings will tell you if he wants you to know."
"Well, at least you can tell me what our cargo is?"
Again, a flat-line stare. This guy could make a fortune at a poker game, Tony thought. But he listened as the engines slowed and the boat rocked to a slow crawl. He tried to look up the stairs, but the goon blocked his sight. He tried to listen to the commotion above, but even that was muffled. And when he stood up to catch a glimpse out the portal, he got a butt of a rifle planted squarely on his jaw.
Spitting out some blood on the bright white leather sofa, Tony said, "You didn't have to do that."
The goon half closed his eyes, giving the impression that he was bored with everything going on around him, but Tony got the message and sat quietly while there seemed to be a lot of commotion going on topside. The room was no longer bright which told him that the boat must have slipped under some cover. The harbor near the naval yard was filled with boat houses that could easily hold a boat of this size, several boats even, and Tony knew they were docked inside one of them. It was easy to finagle an invitation in this town. Manufacturers of luxury boats seldom allowed the general public to see their vessels getting repaired, so they would rent space at local marinas and conduct business where inquiring minds and cameras couldn't go. There was nothing the public liked more than an inconvenienced yacht owner, and there was nothing the owners liked less than pictures published of their incapacitated million dollar yachts.
But the quiet was disturbed with people coming down the steel steps. Tony looked around the goon and was surprised when Ziva, McGee, Gibbs, and Ducky filed into the small area.
"What happened, Boss?"
Gibbs shrugged, "They got the drop on us. How'd they get you?"
"He was somehow waiting for me. I think there's a leak at NCIS."
"You think, DiNozzo?"
"Yeah, how else could he have known where I was going to be?"
Gibbs had already spent too much time second guessing his plan and kicking himself for not seeing the signs earlier. Now, he was trying to figure out how he was going to keep his team alive. Duggard "One-leg" Rawlings was a killer and his reputation was known far and wide.
Ziva studied Tony and then shot a glance at the goon. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the butt of his rifle that bloodied Tony's lip. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine. I wouldn't recommend standing up though. Bubba doesn't like that too much."
The engines purred on and the boat moved slowly until the room became suddenly flooded with sunlight.
Tony looked at Ducky and said, "Why are you here?"
"Unlucky, I guess. I was with Jethro—I needed him to witness some papers that I'm having drawn up—and the next thing I know, I'm being forced into a car."
The uneven tapping sound swiveled their heads. Halfway down the staircase was "One-Leg" Rawlings. "I'm sorry I can't be more hospitable," he said bent over and looking into the crowded state room, "but we need to clear these waters before the Coast Guard gets involved. But I promise you won't have to stay down here too long. I'll bring you back topside just as soon as it's clear." He shuffled around and gimped back up the steps.
If the sound of his peg stumping up the metal steps wasn't enough to depress them, the sound of his throaty laugh as he disappeared was. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything anyone could really do, at least at the moment. Ziva checked Tony's cuffs but without a key, there was little hope of freeing him. Knowing he was uncomfortable, she leaned against him as her way of telling him he wasn't alone.
****8
"I'd like to get his definition of time," McGee said, trying to stretch his legs. "I think we've been down here almost an hour."
It was true, they had been cramped down in the cabin for a long time, but Tony would rather be here than topside. "Quit complaining, McGee. I've been on this damn boat since early morning. And riding topside isn't nearly as smooth as you might think."
"At least up there we could see where he's taking us."
"We're on the Potomac, McCompass. There aren't many places he can go."
Another hour passed before Rawlings yelled below, "Peter, bring my guests up."
The goon sneered, "You heard the man. Move." For good measure, he pulled Tony up by his tie, "Don't make me blacken an eye, Mate!"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Tony answered, shrugging away and towards the steps. He led his teammates topside and to the rear of the vessel where an S shaped white leather cushioned bench awaited them. It was only big enough for three, so Gibbs and McGee each took an individual seat, facing backwards. Tony looked forlornly at McGee, wishing he could have had the nice bucket seat since he was the one shackled, but McGee didn't pick up on his look. It was a cozy semi-circle with Ziva in between Tony and Ducky, and Gibbs and McGee on each side. It was perfect for when Rawlings addressed them.
Stumping down the steps from the Captain's bridge, "One-Leg" looked at his prisoners. He stayed fixed on one very special agent a little too long.
"Where are you taking us?" Gibbs said.
He turned and faced the NCIS team leader. It was because of him that this mess happened in the first place. Rawlings looked out over the ocean. They had long since entered the Atlantic and were traveling at a comfortable speed of 30 miles per hour. They stayed several miles off shore but could easily see the coastline even from that distance. "We have an important meeting to attend."
"Where would that be?"
Ignoring the question, he said, "You should be thankful that you get to ride in my latest acquisition. It belonged to a young millionaire, made his money off the internet, I think. Sadly, he won't be needing it anymore."
"Why take us with you? Why not just kill us?"
Rawlings regarded the silver haired man. They may not know it, but they were much more valuable to him alive than dead. "I don't plan on killing you, Mate. I plan on using you to my advantage. You see, originally, I did want to kill the team responsible for messing up my deals. I had two lined up and you interfered with both, and I don't take kindly to having my business transactions screwed up; just ask Commander Burke. But all is not lost. I can still make a deal, which just may be more lucrative than the ones you screwed up for me." He smiled, leaned back and took in the salty air. "I love the ocean. I love everything about it. I especially love that it affords me a rather stealthy getaway. Not too many cameras out here on the wide open seas." With that, he turned and stumped back up the steps to sit perched high atop the boat on the captain's bridge.
****8
Tony stretched out under the stars. His body was beginning to ache in only the way it could when your arms have been restrained behind your back for almost twenty four hours. The only time he could stretch them was on their rotating trips to the lavatory, and his joints made it clear that that wasn't nearly enough. Of course, his body could also be sore from being flipped over Rawlings' car two days earlier. The car speeding towards him had come out of nowhere and at the last second, Tony jumped, hitting the hood with his foot. The force catapulted him into the air ten feet and he landed on his shoulder, rolling in an attempt to soften the blow, but still managing to jam it. Nobody at NCIS believed that it had happened and thought Tony made it up to garner sympathy. For that matter, they hadn't believed that the graze across his ear had been from a bullet that narrowly missed blowing his brains out. It was an odd feeling to be telling the truth only to discover that nobody, including Gibbs, believed your tales. It certainly gave him pause.
He heard footsteps and thought it best to feign sleeping. Bubba liked to check on him and if he wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing, then the goon liked to communicate his thoughts and wishes with blunt force. The last one hit him squarely in his gut with a lot more force than he had expected.
With his eyes closed and his body as close to being comfortable as it could get, he thought about his teammates. They were spread out now. Gibbs, Ducky and Ziva were allowed the comfort of the state rooms below. McGee was allowed the bow of the boat and given a blanket. Since Bubba had never taken too kindly to Tony, he was kept in the rear of the boat next to the engines and fumes, with no room to extend to his full body length and no blanket for warmth. It was cold, noisy and above all, impossible to find a comfortable position. He figured he had caught catnaps but it was due more to sheer exhaustion than being comfortable, and considering the alternative, it wasn't that bad. By morning, Bubba would then kick him awake first and then go rouse the others.
This morning was only slightly different; instead of kicking him awake, he had thrown a bucket of salt water on him. The sudden cold forced him to gasp for air, and caused temporary confusion. It took a minute for him to get his bearings, but when he did, he pushed himself up on the cushions and tried to wake up a little more sanely. The sun was making an appearance. The sky's pink and purplish and dark blue glow contrasted beautifully with the bright red ball peeking just over the horizon. Under different circumstances, it would truly be a sight to behold.
Ziva sat down next to her partner, observing him. His eye was swollen from another senseless punch from Peter, otherwise known as Bubba, and he was drenched. "Bad night?"
"When hasn't it been?"
She looked over at Ducky, who was not wearing his customary hat. Whereas the others had all tanned from being exposed to the sun, Ducky had not. His nose was now a bright red.
Like Ziva, Ducky observed Tony, "Don't tell me your mouth got you in trouble again?"
Tony sighed, he could honestly say that this time it wasn't his mouth. He really had no idea why Bubba struck him again, but men carrying around more testosterone than normal didn't always need a reason, that's what made them such great body guards and goons to the corrupt and uber insane.
"Tony?" Gibbs said.
"I'm fine, Boss. I don't think Bubba likes me though."
Gibbs gave a crocked smile at the understatement and thought the feeling probably wasn't limited to Bubba. He sensed a dangerous side to Rawlings where his senior field agent was concerned.
"Where do you think we are?"
Tony looked around. He could no longer see any land, but further out to sea, they periodically passed large ships. They had stopped once during the night, presumably to refuel, and had kept a steady speed of thirty to thirty-five miles per hour. Considering they had been traveling for close to 26 hours, he suspected they may have passed Florida and were heading south. "My guess, somewhere in the Carribbean. Possibly the Bahamas."
Gibbs nodded, he had thought the same.
McGee said, "I overheard them talking topside. They have a deadline to be somewhere and detouring to pick us up only delayed them."
"That would explain why we've travelled non-stop," Tony said, moving his shoulders in an attempt to get circulation to them.
Tony's stomach growled and he said, "Do you think it would kill them to give us something to eat?"
The others looked oddly at him. McGee finally said, "We ate last night. They brought me a plate of food around midnight."
Ziva added, "Us, too."
Tony rolled his eyes at the injustices of the world. He had been with them the longest yet they didn't see fit to feed him.
"We just assumed they fed everyone."
"Well they didn't," he countered, irritably.
There wasn't much conversation after that. Bubba took each to the lavatory and returned Tony with a fresh wound to the side of his face. In response to the questions his colleagues weren't asking, he said, "I asked if I could have a sandwich. Apparently, they plan to starve me to death."
When the sun was straight up overhead, the twin engines slowed to a crawl. Gibbs and Tony shared a look, like their gut was telling them something was about to happen. Bubba came up from below while Rawlings made his way down the metal steps from the Captain's loft. He tossed several sets of cuffs on the table. Glaring, he toned, "Put them on."
After a moment's hesitation, Bubba lowered his rifle and aimed at the nearest person, which happened to be McGee.
"I don't like to ask twice," One-Leg toned.
One by one, they picked up the metal bracelets and secured them around their wrists. When the chore was complete and Bubba had lowered his rifle and stepped back, Rawlings looked at his prisoners and smiled. "You mates are going to bring me quite a bit of cash.
"Who's buying us?" Gibbs asked.
"Does it really matter? The important thing is you're worth money to me and a lot of it."
"So now you're in the business of human trafficking?"
"Not really. At least I wouldn't call it that. I'm an opportunist and I recently learned of an opportunity to make quite a bit of money. You see, I learnt that this particular gent is willing to pay handsomely for the capture of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Since it was your team that screwed me out of millions of dollars, I decided to oblige this gent and deliver you."
"Who might this gent be?" Ducky asked.
"No doubt someone who the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs pissed off. I don't care who he is in the least; I just care that he's willing to pay generously for your life and I plan to oblige him."
"What about them," Gibbs said, nodding his head towards his team.
"They are bonus money. I don't get nearly as much for them as I do for you, but money is money, and a business deal is a business deal." Then he turned his attention towards Tony, giving him that same evil look of earlier. Tony seemed to sense something was wrong and stared back.
"As for you, Special Agent DiNozzo, I've spent a lot of time thinking about you, mate. You fall into a different category from the others. You see, I almost blame you entirely for my failed dealings back in Norfolk. When I check around, it seems like your name keeps coming up. I had never heard of Dr. Mallard, or Agent McGee, or even Ziva David before now…, but you? I was told that you have a brain like a steel trap. That you lay quietly gathering all the evidence in your head until one day you put it all together and snap that steel trap shut."
"I wouldn't rely on hearsay, Rawlings," Tony said. "I'm just doing my job."
"Perhaps, but I suspect that you're the kind of agent that takes great delight in taking people like me down."
"Well, you are a criminal and taking people like you down is what they hire me to do."
"Unlike Peter here, I happen to like you. I could use a man of your caliber on my team. Someone not afraid to take risks, someone not afraid to get his hands dirty."
"I see what the problem is," Tony said, not being able to help himself. "Is Bubba a little OCD? Spends more time washing his hands than actually using them? That might explain why he likes the butt of his rifle more than his fists."
Rawlings shot out an arm to prevent his man from attacking DiNozzo, "Take it easy, Peter. He's just trying to get you riled up."
Bubba glared a minute, and then, like a good soldier, backed away and resumed his original position.
Rawlings continued, "Peter doesn't much like you. He thinks you're better looking than he is. I think he's a bit insecure."
Gibbs' gut clenched when he heard Tony laugh. "Tony…" he warned, trying to save his agent's butt before his mouth got him into deep trouble, but he was too late; Tony was already firing back.
"He thinks I'm better looking? Hell, everyone on this boat is better looking than he is!"
This time Bubba slipped past his boss and grabbed Tony by his lapels and pulled him to eye level.
Tony stared back and added, "You're even worse up close. Must be hell getting women—"
The punch landed squarely across his nose and blood splattered the white leather bench where he'd been sitting.
"Peter!" Rawlings demanded. It wasn't until Peter heard the distinct bolt action on his boss' Ruger M77 Hawkeye rifle that he dropped his nemesis.
Tony fell hard on the cushion, spitting blood. When he was sure Bubba was contained, he leaned forward and wiped his mouth across his knee.
"You got guts, Mate," Rawlings drawled. He shook his head in awe of the man's raw courage, or was it stupidity. "I'm going to make you an offer, Special Agent DiNozzo. I'm going to give you the opportunity to join my team. Who knows," he said, smiling, "you and Peter might even become friends."
Tony pushed himself back onto the leather cushioned bench using Ziva as leverage. "I doubt that."
"Here's my offer. Join my team and you get to live."
"You call that an offer?" he said, spitting more blood onto the floor of the million dollar yacht.
"Yes, I do. I don't often allow my prisoners to live."
"Okay. Consider me joined. Where do I sign?"
"It's not as simple as that, Matie. You have to prove yourself."
Tony shook his head, trying to assuage the pain of his nose and now throbbing headache. "How about as a good faith measure, you get Bubba to take these cuffs off."
"He will, as long as you do what I ask you to do."
"What's that?"
"I don't need all of you for my business transaction. In fact, I won't get paid for all of you. Since I don't like things complicated, I need to get rid of one of you. So, Agent DiNozzo, in order to join my team, you'll have to kill Dr. Mallard."
Tony looked up, surprised. "You've got to be kidding."
"I seldom kid during business deals."
"I'm not going to kill Ducky!"
"Then, mate, you will die."
Tony furrowed his brows and looked past Ziva to the doctor. If Ducky was afraid, he didn't show it. But Tony wasn't allowed much time to think about his situation because Bubba had once again picked him up by his lapels.
"I'm gonna enjoy putting a bullet in you," he sneered.
"Relax, Peter, this one is different," the Australian born pirate drawled. "He requires a different approach."
Gibbs had come up against a man like Rawlings only one other time in his life and his actions made a lasting impression. "Rawlings, who's paying you?"
The question had its intended affect; Rawlings turned his attention towards Gibbs. "If I told you the mate's name, you wouldn't believe me, which actually makes telling you that much more entertaining. His name is Calvin Mayberry now, but you knew him as Captain May, former commander of the USS Eisenhower. You do remember him, eh? You cost him his commission and forced him out of the Navy. He's doing some freelance work for some cartels in these parts, and I'm afraid he remembers you."
"I seem to recall the name. He had some psychological issues when I knew him."
Rawlings laughed, the kind of laugh that made his belly jiggle. "I s'pose you could say that. Personally, I don't know the mate all that well, but you don't have to know someone to do business with 'em, eh? He's willing to pay for your delivery and handsomely I might add. He even threw in a bonus for any of your team. The problem is he didn't specify how many of your team I needed to delivery. So, the way I read the contract is one is as good as five."
"If I were you, I'd renegotiate," Gibbs toned.
"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, Agent Gibbs. The deals been signed, so I can do what I please to any of you as long as I deliver you and at least one other." Returning his attention back to his favorite prisoner, he declared, "Like I was saying earlier, Peter, this one is different. He doesn't want to die."
"You got that right," Tony said, still being held in Bubba's grasp by his lapels.
"In fact," Rawlings said, "I find you particularly difficult to kill."
"I'm not going to stand in front of you with a bull's eye painted on my back if that's what you expect."
"No. But I would have preferred that you died when I tried to run you over or, at the very least, died when I took a shot at you, but you seem unusually lucky at avoiding death."
Tony looked down at Ziva and said, "Now do you believe me? I told you I almost got shot and run over!"
McGee said, "We thought you made that up."
"Some colleagues you have, eh? Don't even believe you when you tell them the truth. People like you tend to frustrate me?"
"I wouldn't take it personally… I tend to frustrate a lot of people."
"The big question is how to kill you? Slow and painful or slower and more painful?"
"If I have a say—"
"—Shutup!" Bubba sneered. "Can I do it now?"
Rawlings expression turned evil. "In a moment. I want him to understand what's going to happen. Agent DiNozzo, do you know why I hobble around on this wooden leg?"
"Fashion statement? But I have to tell you, it's not a good look—."
This time, Bubba didn't hold back and tossed his prisoner overboard in one swift motion.
"Tony!" Ziva yelled.
"Tony!" Gibbs and McGee said in unison. They all stood, but Rawlings fired his rifle into the air, "Sit down or I'll kill the lot of ya!"
Tony sputtered as the cold water enveloped his body, he saw nothing but blue, acclimated himself quickly and kicked his legs. As he breached the surface, he gasped for air.
Rawlings leaned over the side of his yacht and yelled, "This here's shark infested waters. If you're still alive by the time I've concluded by business, I'll swing back around and pick you up."
Ziva wrapped her foot around a white life preserver that was more for decoration than saving people and with a quick flip of her ankle, the device sailed overboard near her partner. Her actions landed her a backhanded slap from Bubba.
"Leave her alone!" Rawlings ordered. "It's not like that's gonna save him!" He leaned a little further over the side of the boat and yelled, "In case you were wondering, Special Agent DiNozzo, I lost my leg to a Great White!"
Tony sputtered, trying to kick his legs fast enough to keep his head above water. It was no easy task with about ten extra pounds of wet clothes to pull him under. But the challenge of keeping his head above water was made that much more difficult because he didn't have the use of his arms. They were still cuffed behind his back, forcing his legs to do all the work of keeping him from sinking.
"You can't leave him out here!" Gibbs exclaimed. Facing the Aussie, he pleaded, "I'll go wherever you want, just don't leave him."
Rawlings grinned, "You'll go wherever I want regardless." Motioning to Bubba, they heard the engines kick on and Rawlings gave a mock salute, "Goodbye, Agent DiNozzo."
Ducky looked on in horror as Tony struggled. He glanced at Gibbs whose horrified expression said it all. There was nothing he could do but watch his senior agent gasp for air while kicking frantically towards the round life preserver.
As the boat sped away, the last image they saw of their friend would be forever seared on their brains.
TBC
Thanks to all who are reading/following this story. Hope you enjoy and (as always) any comments are welcomed and help to keep the writing muses working! ~~Jasmine