Author's Notes: Sequel to my earlier fic, Soldiers of Fortune: Renegades. This fic is complete; I'll be updating approximately once a week. If it's been a week, and there's no new chapter, chances are I got busy. Just give me a poke and I'll get it posted.
Soldiers of Fortune: Genesis
Chapter One
Tony's phone rang as he tried to go back to his paperwork, and he picked it up.
"Hello?" he said, absently, as he flipped the phone open.
"I'm trying to reach Anthony DiNozzo, Junior," came a crisp, male voice.
"You've reached him," Tony replied, leaning back in his chair. "How can I help you?"
"Mr. DiNozzo, my name is Detective Matt Sung," the man told him. "I'm with the Seattle Police Department."
"And what does Seattle want with me?" Tony asked, carefully, dread pooling in his stomach.
"You're listed as next of kin for a Logan Cale, yes?" Sung continued. "His brother?"
At his words, Tony felt like the floor had just dropped out from under his feet. He clutched at the edge of his desk with his free hand, feeling the world spin around him as he tightened his grip on his cell phone.
"What happened?" he asked, hoarsely, unable to put words to what he really wanted to say.
"Mr. DiNozzo," Sung went on, "I'm afraid that your brother's been in an accident."
"What kind of accident?" Tony demanded, and, across the room, he could see Ziva perk up at her desk, staring over at him, intently.
"There was a car accident," Sung told him. "Your brother was badly injured, and he was rushed to Harborview Medical Center for treatment."
"When you say 'badly injured'-" Tony pressed, insistently.
"I'm afraid that I don't know the details of his current medical condition," Sung said, and Tony resisted the urge to snap at the other man. "My partner and I caught the case, and our investigation is currently ongoing."
"Which is what, exactly?" Tony asked, through gritted teeth, his patience quickly reaching the breaking point.
"From our preliminary investigation," Sung told him, "it looks like a hit and run. But," he added, before Tony could say anything, "we don't have any witnesses, at least no one who's willing to come forward, and we don't have any suspects."
"So, basically, you've got nothing," Tony retorted, and now it was Sung's turn to sigh.
"Mr. DiNozzo," he began, and Tony cut him off.
"Agent DiNozzo," he corrected, sharply.
"Agent DiNozzo," Sung said, emphasis on his title, "I assure you that my partner and I are devoting our full time and attention to this case."
"I'll be on the next flight out to Seattle," Tony told him, abruptly. "Who's the lead investigator on Logan's case? Who do I talk to?"
"You'll be talking to me," Sung told him.
"I'll be in touch when I land at SeaTac," Tony said, and then he hung up the phone before Sung could say anything else.
He let his phone fall to his desk with a clunk, and then he dropped his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. When a shadow fell over his desk, he looked up to see Ziva standing over him, staring down at him with a compassionate expression on her face.
"Are you all right?" she asked, quietly. "I overheard part of your conversation."
"Logan's in the hospital," he told her, feeling suddenly fifty years older. "A hit and run – someone hit my brother and left him to die, Ziva."
"Is he all right?" Ziva asked, clearly concerned, and Tony shook his head in frustration.
"I don't know," he said, aggravated. "The cop from Seattle told me that he was hurt, but he couldn't tell me anything else."
"You are going to Seattle?" Ziva asked, even though it was more of a statement than a question.
"The soonest flight I can get out to SeaTac," he replied, and then he looked up when the elevator dinged.
McGee walked out with a notepad in his hands, probably Ducky's copious notes on the autopsy of their current victim. Tony waved the younger man over, speaking as soon as McGee stopped in front of his desk.
"I need you to use your magic to get me a flight to Seattle," he said, before McGee could say anything about his trip down to Autopsy.
"It's his brother, Tim," Ziva added, quietly, their ongoing feud forgotten in the face of something bigger.
"I'll do what I can," McGee promised, shoving his notes at Ziva and darting back to his desk.
The sound of his furious typing filled the air, and Tony glanced over to see McGee's normally-boyish face filled with a fierce determination as he practically glared holes in his computer. Tony had only ever seen him stare at murder suspects with that kind of intensity, before.
He turned his attention back to Ziva, who was still waiting patiently beside his desk.
"You have the team until I get back," he told her, and she nodded, briskly.
"I will keep them safe," she promised, solemnly. "Even McGee," she added, a grudging affection creeping into her voice. "He is – not really so bad, and I think that he is just in over his head. If he would just talk to me-" she finished, sounding frustrated, and then she trailed off, her eyes going wide as she realized that she'd said more than she'd intended.
"Wanna explain that comment?" Tony asked, pointedly, raising an eyebrow at her, and to his surprise, she blushed.
"I didn't mean – that is – it is a very long story," she said, hastily. "I am sure that you would not be interested."
"Try me," Tony said, wryly, watching in amazement as Ziva practically squirmed under his gaze.
"I can't-" she muttered, before falling into an awkward silence.
"Just don't kill each other while I'm gone," Tony said, finally, pretending not to notice the quiet sigh of relief that Ziva let out. "I've got to go talk to Ducky, Abby, and the Director."
He stopped by Vance's office, first, knocking lightly on the older man's door. There was a moment of silence, and then Vance called out something that sounded like "Enter".
"Agent DiNozzo," Vance said, as Tony stepped into his office, shutting the door behind him, "I hadn't heard that you'd caught a case."
"I'm not here about a case," Tony told him. "Sir, I need to take emergency leave, effective immediately."
"Any reason in particular?" Vance asked, his tone neutral, and Tony nodded, shortly.
"My brother has been involved in an accident," he replied. "I need to get to Seattle."
"Go," Vance said, immediately, and Tony let out a breath that he hadn't even known he was holding.
He'd known that Vance was a good man, and a good commander, but he'd worked for some commanders in the past who would have made things difficult for him just because they could. He'd even been fired for lesser requests than the one he'd just put to Vance. So, it was nice to be reassured that Vance wasn't going to be difficult.
"Thank you, Sir," he said, and Vance nodded. "I've left Ziva in charge of my team," he went on. "And they'll be able to reach me on my cell phone if they need me."
"Do you need anything?" Vance asked, before he could turn to leave, and that was another reason to be grateful that he worked for the man.
"I don't suppose you could convince Seattle PD to give me their complete cooperation, could you?" he asked, wryly.
"I can make some calls," Vance told him. "Do you have a flight to Washington?"
"McGee's working on it," Tony replied. "Thank you," he added, before he left the office.
From there, he went downstairs to Autopsy, Ducky's domain. The older man was working on the victim of their most recent case, and he looked up when Tony entered.
"I've already spoken to Timothy about my progress," he began, but Tony cut him off.
"I'm not here about that," he interrupted, and some of his distress must have been visible from his tone because Ducky immediately looked worried.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is it Ziva or Timothy-"
"They're fine," Tony broke in, and Ducky looked relieved at his words. "It's my brother," he went on, and then he trailed off, helplessly, clenching his hands into fists in silent anger.
Behind him, he heard the door to Autopsy swish open, and then the clomp of Abby's heavy boots across the concrete floor.
"Hey, Ducky," she was saying, as she walked across the room, her nose buried in a file folder, "I've got those lab results you wanted-"
She broke off when she bumped into Tony, and he automatically wrapped his arms around her to steady her as she swayed.
"Hey, Boss," she greeted him, with a smile, using the title she so very rarely bestowed. "To what do we owe the honor?"
"It's Logan," he told her, and he watched Abby's smile drop off her face at his grim tone. "He's in the hospital; I don't know anything else-"
He broke off when Abby wrapped her arms around him in a hard, wordless hug. She held on for several seconds, finally pulling away, reluctantly.
"He's going to be fine," she told him, firmly. "He's your brother; he's too stubborn to be anything else."
"I hope," Tony replied, quietly, and Abby fixed him with a stern glare.
"I know," she said, emphatically.
"Thanks, Abs," he said, softly, as he pulled her into another, brief hug. "Ziva's in charge," he added, looking from her to Ducky. "Anything about the case goes to her."
"Of course," Ducky said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"You're going to call the second you know anything, right?" Abby said, insistently. "Even if it's just something tiny?"
"I'll call," Tony promised, and then he headed back upstairs to the bullpen.
When he got back to his desk, McGee was waiting for him. Without a word, he handed Tony a piece of paper.
"Your boarding pass," he told him. "I had to threaten some airline officials, but I got you a seat on a flight that leaves in about two hours, out of Reagan."
"You threatened someone?" Tony asked, and a faint blush spread over the younger man's cheeks. "Probie, I'm impressed."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't much of a threat," McGee muttered, sheepishly. "I said something along the lines of 'hindering a federal investigation', and they were eager to cooperate."
"We'll corrupt you, yet," Tony told him, jokingly.
"I hope your brother is going to be okay," McGee told him, earnestly.
"Thanks, Tim," Tony said, and the younger man nodded. "Ziva is in charge while I'm gone," he added, "and I'm just a phone call away if you guys need me."
"Got it, Boss," McGee said. "Have a safe trip."
Tony nodded, taking one, last look around the bullpen. Ziva was working at her desk, her head bent over the report that she was working on, her dark hair hiding her face from view. McGee, back at his desk, had bent to his own work. Both of them were busy, but Ziva glanced up at him, briefly, a sad smile flashing across her face.
'Good luck,' she mouthed, silently, and Tony nodded, gratefully.
He headed to the elevator, riding the car down to the garage level. He bypassed his car and went out to the street, hailing a taxi as soon as he was out on the sidewalk.
"Reagan Airport," he told the driver, closing the door behind him.
Thankfully, for his peace of mind, the driver didn't seem inclined to talk. The drive to the airport was made in silence, and the driver dropped him off at the main gate.
"Thanks," Tony said, passing him cash for the fare, and then he headed into the airport terminal.
When he reached the first security checkpoint, the guard blocked his way through the metal detector.
"Empty your pockets, take off your shoes, and put everything on the conveyor belt," the man said, in a bored tone. He sounded like he'd been repeating himself for a while now.
Tony slipped out of his shoes, shrugged his jacket off, and emptied his pockets out onto the conveyor belt. The guard raised a startled eyebrow at the service revolver that Tony placed on the conveyor belt, but then he relaxed when Tony flipped open his badge to reveal his ID.
"NCIS," he told the guard, who took the ID and carefully scrutinized it.
"Never heard of it," the guard told him, in a dismissive tone, as he handed Tony his badge back. "Where you headed, Agent?"
"Seattle," Tony told him, stepping through the metal detector and slipping his shoes back on his feet. "The flight from gate five."
"Caught an interesting case?" the guard asked, a hopeful tone in his voice, clearly hoping for the juicy details but Tony shook his head.
"Don't know, yet," he said, noncommittally, as he collected his belongings, putting his gun back in the holster he wore on his hip.
He continued down the terminal to gate five, submitting to two more security checkpoints along the way. The last security guard was a woman that he'd encountered before at the airport, when he, Ziva, and McGee had needed to leave DC for a case. She'd passed him through the checkpoint with barely more than a wave, recognizing him on sight.
The plane started boarding a few minutes after he reached the gate, and he found his seat at the back of the plane with very little trouble. Sinking down into the seat, he stared out of the window for a second before he leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes as a wave of exhaustion swamped him.
'Hang on, Logan,' he thought, feeling the plane rumble to life underneath him. 'I'm on my way; just hang on, little brother.'
