Title: Mistaken
Author: Jasmine
Date: February 2, 2013
Universe: NCIS, Season 9
Rated: PG
Challenge: Under 5000 words (still haven't done it: 5,198) Still continuing my "Dust Bunny" series. For those of you who don't know, I'm in the process of clearing my hard drive of stories that I lost interest in writing for a variety of reasons. Rather than toss them, I'm posting some here in the hopes that I can someday get to several of my other stories which are way more exciting (at least they are to me).
Warning: None, except if you're adamently opposed to TIVA, don't read. I can never remember if I've put something in about them so it's best if Tiva haters pass on my stories.
Summary: Much to Gibbs' annoyance, it's Secretary Jarvis who figures out why Special Agent DiNozzo isn't at work.

**************************************8

Ziva looked up just as the Director of NCIS and the Secretary of the Navy were descending the stairs. She was aware that the top navy man in the country was in house—hell, everyone was; it was hard to ignore his presence. One couldn't help but notice that security was a little tighter, employees walked a little straighter and everyone seemed a little busier.

There was, however, one person who was adept at ignoring such things. Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't act differently. He just sat at his desk reading case report after case report until he worked his way through the pile. And he caught everything, too, from a misplaced comma to a misspelled name.

Ziva took her cue from him and kept working, allowing her eyes to linger a little longer on her partner's empty desk, wondering where he could be and if his absence was going to be noticed.

Director Vance passed in front of her and approached her boss, "Special Agent Gibb—?"

"—Where is he?" Jarvis said, cutting across his words.

Ziva looked up, surprised by the tone in the Secretary's voice. Vance looked surprised, too, and said, "I thought you wanted to talk to Agent Gibbs?"

Secretary Jarvis stared down at the vacant desk and empty chair, and his stomach churned. "Where is Special Agent DiNozzo?"

Perplexed at the sudden turn and intensity of his voice, Vance looked quizzically at him, seeing a side of Jarvis that he hadn't seen in years. Returning to face his team leader, Vance repeated, "Where's your agent?"

"It's Monday morning, Mr. Secretary—"

"—Did he work this weekend?"

Coming out from behind his desk, Gibbs answered, "No. It's the first weekend in three weeks he hasn't worked."

"Get him on the phone."

"Is something wrong, Mr. Secretary?"

When Jarvis didn't answer, Gibbs ticked his head towards McGee and said, "Call him."

Tim picked up his desk phone and dialed, "I'll try his cell." Since he had it on speaker phone, they listened to it go to his voicemail. Tim asked, "Do you want me to leave a message?"

Before Gibbs could answer, the Secretary nodded, although he looked more worried than angry.

"Tony, where are you? Call us when you get this."

"Try his apartment."

Tim dialed that number and listened until it went to voicemail too. He left the same message.

"Mr. Secretary," Gibbs began, "Tony's been working every day for the past three weeks. He was the lead undercover on our last case and put in a lot of long hours. When he comes in, I'll bring him to you immediately."

Jarvis was hearing his words, but not listening. He didn't put the intelligence together until now, and he didn't like what he was slowly realizing. He rubbed his brow with one hand and put the other on his hip, not exactly the language of an angry boss, but not that of a happy one either. Ziva and McGee exchanged a glance, remembering the last time the SECNAV took an interest in their colleague, it damn near cost him his life.

Gibbs gave Vance a hard stare, conveying a frustration that he couldn't share with the top man, but Vance remained stolid, shifting his eyes between the two.

"Agent Gibbs," Jarvis finally said, "assemble your team in one hour in MTAC." He turned and walked away.

Vance caught the dumbfounded look on Gibbs' face and shrugged. "You heard him. One hour."

Gibbs watched them leave. Once they had disappeared, he cocked his head in confusion. "McGee, locate Tony. Do that thing you do."

"Ping his cell phone?"

"Ziva, call Abby and get her up here."

"On it."

"Boss? His cell is at his apartment."

"Keep calling it."

"I have it on a loop."

Gibbs stared at Tony's empty desk. He wasn't just sleeping off a party weekend; something was wrong, and the SECNAV knows what it is. He grabbed his half empty coffee cup and left the squad room.

**************************************8

"What's this all about?" Abby asked, trying to be discreet. It isn't often that she's invited to sit in MTAC. Come to think of it, unless it's Christmas, she's never invited to just sit and watch someone else do the work.

McGee shrugged, "Something to do with Tony."

"Tony?" Palmer asked, enjoying the comfortable leather seats and feeling important. "I tried calling him over the weekend. Breena's friend is in town and we thought we could double date—well, she thought we could double date…it was mainly Breena's idea. I didn't think Tony needed any help in getting dates—."

"What'd he say?" Ziva asked.

"He never answered his phone. I guess he was already busy."

Ducky listened to the conversation and watched Jethro, who seemed intent on sipping his fresh cup of black coffee, but the M.E. saw in his eyes a singularly focused man. Knowing that he would want more information from that story, Ducky queried, "When did you call him?"

"It was Saturday morning. I tried a few more times in the afternoon, well…actually, Breena made me call—I didn't want to, but still no answer. I think he might have been avoiding me."

Secretary Jarvis and Director Vance entered the darkened facility and took center stage. Jarvis quietly addressed the technicians seated at the console, "Would you excuse us."

Four of the five technicians vacated their seats and left the room. The fifth technician was a new face, and based on his dress, wasn't really a technician at all. The tailored dark suit, white crisp shirt, and two hundred dollar tie gave it away. Jarvis nodded to him and he put on half a head phone and punched some keys on the console.

"I've gathered you here for one reason and one reason only," Secretary Jarvis began. "You are to find Special Agent DiNozzo, and you're to do it quietly and before the media gets wind of the fact that a federal agent is missing."

It took Gibbs less than a second to fixate on the word 'missing'. "What's going on, Mr. Secretary? Do you know something we don't?"

Vance averted his steely gaze, having known this moment was inevitable, and let his boss field Gibbs' question.

"We believe that Agent DiNozzo has been kidnapped by a small cell of terrorists known as Al-Jazeera."

"That is the name of a satellite network in Qatar," Ziva added, masking her concern the only way she knew how.

"They're not known for their originality, Agent David. Regardless, they have ties to Al-Qaeda and those ties are strengthening. As you well remember, they claimed responsibility for the hotel bombing in Syria last month."

"What do they want with Tony?" she asked.

"They believe he has information on a Black Ops mission."

"Does he?"

"No."

"What mission?" Gibbs asked.

Jarvis fell silent, conveying the need to know rule was being invoked.

"Okay then, what makes you think they have him and he's not just sleeping off the weekend?"

"We've checked his apartment. He hasn't been there all weekend."

"Tony was just as likely to pick up a girl at a bar and go to her place Friday night as he was to go home," Gibbs said. "Why do you believe he's been kidnapped?"

Jarvis nodded at the technician, who punched a few keys and pushed a video to the large screen. "This is Friday night, and you can see Agent DiNozzo walking to his car after work. As he drives away, notice the dark sedan parked just outside the gates. It pulls away and keeps three car lengths back. We can pick up Agent DiNozzo's car again through the traffic cams and follow him as he drives to a gym in Georgetown. Here's where it gets interesting."

Jarvis stopped narrating the scenes. The video was grainy and dark, but Tony's car pulled into a parking spot not too far from the entrance of the gym. He retrieved his gym bag from the trunk and walked towards the door. Two men approached him holding what looked like a large map. Tony was seen looking at the map and then pointing down the street. When Tony turned his back to give better directions, one of the men stepped behind him. Tony suddenly grabbed at his neck and then sunk slowly to the ground, being caught by both men. They dragged him to a nearby van and shoved him inside. The van drove away leaving the two men to throw Tony's gym bag back inside his car, and leave the scene.

The room was silent as they all stared at the screen with only Tony's lone car to look at.

"You're just showing this to us now!" Gibbs toned, breaking the silence.

"We didn't know until now, Agent Gibbs." Jarvis motioned to the technician and he cut the video and raised the lighting.

Ziva was next to get her wits about her, and, keeping her analytical side in motion while suppressing her emotional side, she observed, "Typical middle eastern style kidnapping. Tony would not have suspected anything."

"Where's the car?"

"With the FBI." Then, as if on cue, Agents Fornell and Sachs entered MTAC.

Tobias Fornell looked at the stunned faces and continued, "Agent DiNotzo's car was clean. The area surrounding the car was clean. Not even enough of a tire impression in the dirt to get a make and model of either vehicle. From the video, we can start tracing all late model black sedans, but in this city, that could take a while."

"Plates?"

"Fake," Sachs answered, feeling the worry in the air the moment he'd entered MTAC. Agent DiNozzo wasn't his favorite person, but he was well respected in the field of law enforcement, and if he learned anything from his time in this building, it was that NCIS was going to go after whoever kidnapped their agent with a vengeance. He couldn't blame them. He'd do the same if it were one of his own colleagues.

"Why are we just hearing about this now?" Gibbs toned, making it difficult to tell if he was more pissed or concerned.

"I didn't put it all together until this morning. There's been an unusual amount of chatter over the airwaves, which is why I met with Director Vance earlier, to make him aware of it. When I didn't see Agent DiNozzo at his desk, it all started to make sense. Mr. Sheffield," he ticked his head towards the technician, "was able to pull the tapes for us, and that's when we confirmed what happened, not more than an hour ago."

"They've had him since Friday?"

Jarvis fell silent, for everyone in the room knew that a United States federal agent in the clutches of a terrorist cell usually didn't live more than twenty-four hours.

"Excuse me, Sir," Tech Sheffield interrupted. "I'm getting another transmission."

"Put it on screen."

A few key clicks later, a dark but clear picture emerged on the wall. Gibbs, Vance and Jarvis were the only ones standing on the floor. Slowly, the picture materialized and it was the all too familiar symbol of Al-Qaeda, the one with the three outstretched arms evoking a mountain-like image and raising a black flag. The flag read, in Arabic, "There is no God but the God, and Muhammad is the messenger of God."

A thickly accented voice came through, "Death to America!" And then a slow panning of the camera revealed a darkened room and several masked men heavily armed with assault rifles. A bright light illuminated a man, tied to a chair with his head lulled forward. The white shirt he wore was heavily stained red.

Recognizing the figure, Abby yelped, "Tony!" and clasped her hand over her mouth.

The voice continued, "As you can see, we have your agent. If he does not tell us what we want to know about Operation Red Tide, he will die a most painful death."

Jarvis answered, "You picked up the wrong man. He doesn't know anything."

"He is a Black Ops operative. We have the right man."

McGee slid out of his chair and into one next to Sheffield, and whispered, "You tracing this?"

Sheffield shrugged and whispered back, "It's being bounced around the world. No two servers are together. It must have taken them days to set this up."

McGee figured he only had seconds to work and so he typed quickly, opening up the program he wrote when he was assigned the cyber detail after Director Shepard's death. Sheffield looked on quizzically.

On the screen, the camera panned off their agent and back to the masked men.

Secretary Jarvis said, "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo is not aware of Operation Red Tide."

Gibbs added, "Ask yourself this: With what you've done to him, why hasn't he talked yet?"

The terrorist cocked his head, contemplating the question. "He is well trained, but he will break, or he will die."

In the background, the sounds of a man being beaten could be heard. And then the transmission went dead.

With little time to spare, Gibbs composed himself the quickest and asked, "What the Hell is Operation Red Tide?"

Jarvis made an executive decision to reveal enough of the operation to satisfy his curiosity. "Operation Red Tide is a naval blockade of supplies on the Aegean Sea. Instead of using US ships, we're using pirate ships. Agent DiNozzo is not involved in this operation, and he doesn't know anything about it."

"Why do they think he does?"

Jarvis hesitated before answering, "Our office in Naples dropped his name over the airwaves. They remembered his name from his time as Agent Afloat, and they used it to throw the terrorist cell off, never thinking they'd actually track him down."

"What!" Vance whispered, knowing the stupidity of such actions.

"It wasn't my idea. I had no way of knowing this was their Director's strategy. He's since been reassigned."

Gibbs was using every ounce of strength he had to maintain control. He shifted from foot to foot, his mind racing.

Vance whispered under his breath, "Take it easy, Gibbs."

"Boss!" McGee said, interrupting a potentially career stopping move on the part of his boss. "I think I found him!"

Sheffield asked, "Found who?"

"Tony. You know that program I started? Well, it was a script I wrote that studies patterns. When a hacker establishes a connection to an IP address, they'll often use the same route over and over again. No matter how complicated or convoluted the route is, there's always a pattern to it."

"What are you saying!"

"I'm saying that I can locate that transmission."

"Where's it coming from?"

McGee clicked on his keyboard, studied the monitor, and waited for the program to finish. Feeling all eyes on him, he explained, "I have to wait until it extrapolates the data, and turns it into something tangible."

Palmer leaned over and asked Abby, "Does this mean we'll be able to find Tony?"

She shrugged. "I hope so. If we don't, I'd hate to be the Secretary of the Navy right now."

Quietly, Ducky added, "That's assuming they didn't fly him anywhere." Sometimes, the doctor's knowledge was a double edged sword.

Impatient, Gibbs toned, "McGee! Where is he?"

Tim licked his lips, waiting for the address to pop up. "Got it! The transmission is coming from 1700-C Plantation Road, Springfield, Virginia. Boss, that's an industrial complex just outside the beltway!"

*************************************8

If Gibbs knew he had an entourage following him, he paid it little mind. He gladly accepted the police escort, but called them off the moment they entered the complex. McGee and his GPS talked him through the maze of windy streets riddled with potholes and lined with warehouses.

In the backseat, Ziva stared out the window at the endless buildings. She had been here before, once, many years earlier, when she was new to NCIS and still a Mossad liaison. She and Tony had found a dead body inside one of the abandoned buildings. It was the first time she realized her partner had a sensitive side. Not that he'd ever admit it, but his expression, however brief it may have been, was sympathetic. Perhaps he had hoped to find the petty officer alive, but she never asked, and he never said.

Now it was her turn to hope to find her partner alive. As a Mossad officer and now an NCIS agent, you're trained for this moment. But, no matter how much training you've had, you're never really ever prepared to find your partner dead.

Gibbs pulled up slowly next to the building. He waited until he got the signal that the other cars were in place before getting out, being careful not to slam his door and possibly alerting anyone on the inside. McGee and Ziva followed.

Fornell had already drawn his weapon. He whispered, "My people are covering the back. They're lying low, but will shoot anyone who tries to leave."

Gibbs pointed to the door, and he and Fornell made their way to it, keeping close to the side of the building. Peeking through the dirt covered window, he could see two men, AK47s slung behind their backs, sitting at a makeshift table. If Gibbs barged through the door, no telling what might happen to Tony. He motioned for everyone to back off.

The bright sunlight made it hard to conceal this many people. Whatever they did, it had to be well coordinated and fast. "Fornell, take your men around back and seal off all exits. Let them escape the building before you cut 'em down. I can't have them re-entering after they've left."

"Gibbs, we don't have the authority—"

"I'm giving you the authority! It's my man in there, and I plan on getting him out alive. If we trap them inside, it'll be a murder/suicide fest, and I'm not risking it."

Fornell acquiesced, and he and Agent Sachs moved stealth-like down the length of the building and disappeared around the side.

Gibbs snuck back to the door and checked it. Locked. Ziva had flattened herself against the exterior wall while McGee peered through a small dust smeared window. He wagged his finger, and Gibbs and Ziva waited. Another minute passed and Ziva could see that Gibbs was growing impatient. Finally, McGee circled his finger. Ziva pulled out her tools and worked quickly to unlock the door. When she felt the tumblers align, she deferred to her boss, who waited for McGee. McGee gave the hold signal just as Gibbs turned the knob, and he froze. All three held their breath, wondering if the noise had attracted any attention. Finally, McGee gave the go-ahead and Gibbs slowly pushed the door open. He, Ziva and McGee slipped into the darkened shadows of the large room and saw the vacant table. The cards were stacked; they were merely taking a break.

Gibbs cocked his head to the left, hearing the muffled sounds of men's voices at the end of the warehouse. The three padded across the room and flattened themselves against a stack of empty crates. Focused, Gibbs checked his people. They were as ready for this as he was. He wasn't worried about them, but he was worried about Tony. The voices were pressing for information. Once they charged the area where they held him, they had to be on the lookout for booby traps and additional terrorist. If their plan was going to work, they had to block off the route they took to get this far and force the terrorists out the back, towards the FBI.

Gibbs peeked slowly around the edge. He stopped when he saw two guards, guns over their shoulders, relaxed. One was lighting a cigarette. They looked bored. From the different voices, Gibbs figured there were at least a dozen men, and that was only counting the voices he could hear. Tony would be somewhere in the middle. He peeked around again, forcing his eyes to find his agent, and they did.

Stripped to his skivvies and kneeling on the floor with his hands tied behind his back was Tony. A black sack covered his head. At least he was conscious. When the bullets started flying, Gibbs prayed he would be aware enough to duck. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, he was hoping he was more than aware, but he knew better. This long in the hands of the enemy wasn't good, and his agent's appearance confirmed it.

Gibbs swallowed, lifted his chin at his other agents, counted silently to three, and then charged.

The sound was deafening. They had indeed caught the men off guard, and their scrambling and shouting combined with the automatic fire would have confused even the steadiest of guns, but Team Gibbs wasn't fazed. McGee held fast, and took out the lone terrorist trying to escape past him. Even though his aim wasn't nearly as accurate as Gibbs' or Ziva's, it was good enough to make another terrorist think twice about going through him.

Ziva held steady. She had killed three terrorists before they could get their guns off their shoulders, but there were more to go, and one bullet clipped her shoulder, while another flew so close by her ear that she heard the sound it made as it whizzed by. She dove for cover behind a barrel, and reloaded.

Gibbs watched out for Tony in the center of the melee. He did exactly what he had hoped he would do. When the gunfire erupted, he'd fallen onto his side, making himself less of a target. The first terrorist Gibbs' killed was the one aiming his gun at Tony. After that, it was everyone for himself and he picked off men like there were standing still. Half dozen terrorists ran towards the back of the warehouse while a few took cover behind storage containers and crates abandoned long ago.

"Cover me!" Gibbs shouted and he took off in a run.

Ziva and McGee laid down fire at the few remaining men, keeping them at bay while their boss raced across the floor, grabbed Tony by his arm and dragged him to cover; his screams lost in the heat of battle. Once behind a large stack of wooden crates, he reloaded and glanced down at his agent. There was blood everywhere and his breathing was labored, at best. He whipped around and unloaded his gun, killing two more terrorist before he heard the frantic cries of the last one surrendering. He didn't want to take anyone alive, he wanted to send a message that terrorist cells operating this close to the nation's capital would be obliterated. But he knew better.

"Throw out your weapon!" he yelled.

The lone terrorist threw his rifle out and it clanked and skidded across the floor, stopping next to a pool of blood: Tony's blood.

"Come out with your hands up!"

The frightened man came out from behind the crates, his hands held high over his head and his body shaking. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

"That's far enough," Gibbs shouted. Knowing that terrorists don't give up unless they intend one final act of destruction, Gibbs yelled, "Now take off your clothes."

The terrorist scrunched his nose. Gibbs took advantage of his confusion and dialed his phone. "Send an ambulance to 1700-C Plantation Road. A federal agent is down." He flipped it shut and repeated, "Take off your clothes or I'll kill you where you stand!"

The man immediately started stripping. He got down to his boxers and hesitated.

"Those, too!"

The man dropped them, and stood in the center of the floor.

Satisfied that he hadn't strapped a bomb to himself, Gibbs yelled, "Okay. Get dressed. Ziva, you got him!"

Ziva came out from behind her protective barrels, gun aimed high, head slightly cocked. "Hurry up and get dressed. I do not want to see your naked body anymore."

Gibbs pulled the bag off Tony's head gently, no longer being able to ignore his moans.

"Take it easy, Tony. You're safe now." They had really worked him over.

He cut the ropes around his ankles and his wrists, feeling his agent's pain as his limbs were finally released and allowed to move after days of being confined. He offered a gentle massage of his shoulders as he rolled him over. Tony moaned at the movement, and Gibbs suspected he'd been bounded for most of his captivity. His joints were stiff and his extremities cold. He took off his jacket and laid it over Tony's blood soaked chest.

"How is he?" McGee asked nervously, not seeing the total picture in the dim light of the warehouse.

"He'll live."

The FBI escorted the EMTs through the building, warning them about not touching anything or looking too closely at anyone.

Fornell stopped next to Ziva and slowly swiveled his head. "Well, at least now I know who NOT to call when we want to take them alive."

"They shot first."

"I highly doubt that."

"How many did you take alive?"

"We took 'em all alive, Agent David. When they stop fighting and start running, you know you got a bunch of cowards on your hands. How's Agent DiNotzo?"

"I do not know." She looked in his direction, but couldn't make out the medical team's ministrations. It was just as well. She feared she would kill her prisoner if she saw her partner.

*************************8

Ziva pushed open the hospital door and peeked in slowly. She didn't want to disturb Tony if he was sleeping, but she was anxious to see him. Gibbs and McGee had accompanied him to the hospital, but she had been forced to stay behind and deal with the scumbags who'd done this. Tim had spent most of the time filling out the paper work while Gibbs had waited for updates. When they were finally cleared to see him, they were only allowed to spend a few minutes in the room, but it didn't make any difference. Tony was heavily sedated and wasn't aware of much of anything.

Ziva had processed the prisoners at NCIS, making certain they were given a one way ticket to Gitmo. She and Abby were anxiously waiting by their phone for status updates when Gibbs and McGee walked off the elevator. Neither said much about Tony's condition, but Gibbs could sense their eagerness and ticked his head, "Go on, get outa here and go see him. He could use the company."

Standing in the hospital door with Abby right behind her looking over her head into the dimly lit room, Ziva felt her stomach tumble. She was almost afraid to see him.

They inched forward slowly, not wanting to disturb his slumber, and stood next to his bed, one on each side, peering down on him. He had an IV going into one arm, as his other arm was wrapped in a cast and resting in a sling. His face had bandages on it, as did his neck. In fact, where they should have seen skin, they saw mostly bandages.

Abby said, "He looks peaceful."

"He's sedated. When he comes out of it, I doubt he's going to feel much peace."

Abby rubbed his good arm and said, "Maybe we should let him sleep."

But before Ziva could answer, Tony mumbled, "I'm awake."

Ziva would never have guessed that just hearing his voice would relieve her of all the tension that had built up inside her, but it did, and she smiled. Abby was immediately aware of the change in her friend's demeanor and she watched as Ziva gently caressed the exposed fingers from the cast."

"You are cold," she stated. And just like a mother, she pulled the blanket up and covered him.

In MTAC, Gibbs and McGee waited with Director Vance for the Secretary of the Navy to appear on the large screen. Vance had already been briefed on Tony's condition and he was satisfied that he'd have his agent back soon.

The SECNAV's face appeared and he said, "Good job, Agent Gibbs. I hear you took some of them alive."

"We did."

"I also understand that Agent DiNozzo is going to make a full recovery."

"He will."

"Good. The information we've already learned from the terrorists is proving invaluable. Funny thing about home grown terrorists… they don't share the same deep rooted belief system of their foreign counterparts. Makes it easy to extract information."

Gibbs cocked his head. Remembering Tony and what they did to him. They may have been homegrown, but they were effective with their own techniques.

Jarvis continued, "Director Vance, I'll be meeting with Agent DiNozzo as soon as he's well enough to receive me. Will you set that up?"

"Of course, Mr. Secretary. If you want to visit him sooner, I'm sure that can be arranged."

"I'm not visiting with him. I'm meeting with him."

Vance raised his brows, and said, "May I ask the nature of the meeting? It will help me determine the best time to see him."

"He's been identified as a Black Ops agent. That could work to our advantage."

Gibbs felt the blood leave his face and he opened his mouth to object, but was cut off.

"—Understand, Agent Gibbs," the SECNAV added, preempting the challenge, "that I don't make these decisions lightly. I have a mission that I need him to do, and I expect to have your full cooperation."

Vance knew better than to allow his best agent an opportunity to respond. Politics weren't his strong suit and he decided he had better step in before Gibbs walked into something he couldn't walk out of. "He'll be ready, Mr. Secretary. I'll contact you when the time's right."

The screen went black. The silence lingered, but Vance felt the glare of steely blue eyes boring into his head. He didn't have the energy right now for Gibbs, so he left without saying anything.

McGee shifted, sensing the dangerous side of his boss.

Gibbs glared at the screen. Jarvis is set on getting his agent killed. He'd heard rumors that agents were being recruited to form another Phantom 8, and when he crawled inside of Jarvis' head, he didn't like what he found. DiNozzo would be the perfect recruit for such a group, and there were very few ways, if any, to turn down such an offer.

"Tim, I think Tony's recovery may take a little longer than we first anticipated."

Having been taught to read between the lines, McGee already was on the same page, and replied, "I think you're right. He is worse off than we originally thought. I'll get right on his medical records."

Gibbs nodded, still pissed but at least he had a plan to deal with this current problem, if nothing else, delay the inevitable. Together, he and McGee left MTAC.

~Fini