A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews and alerts! I'll be honest and say that I don't know precisely where this story will end up but I do promise to try and make it a fun ride. I'll also try to get chapters up fairly quickly, but since it isn't actually written yet please bear with me. Usual disclaimer mumbo-jumbo applies, including the fact that I'm not an expert on anything. Well, not on anything interesting to read about, anyway. Hope you enjoy this chapter! -abby
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In the silence that followed the chilling exchange, Gibbs searched his memory for something, anything, that could help explain their current situation. He looked at the worried faces of his team and could tell they were doing the same. Ziva's obvious fury mirrored his own, and Tim was clearly horrified. Tony's already ashen face, however, had become even paler. He looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Gibbs knelt back on the floor by his senior field agent and gently grasped the younger man's shoulder. The tremors still occasionally coursing through DiNozzo's body worried Gibbs.
"Tony? What's going on? You in pain?" Gibbs did not bother to hide his concern.
It took a moment for DiNozzo to answer, and Ziva used the time to rejoin her colleagues on the kitchen floor. She placed a reassuring hand on her partner's knee. "What is it, Tony?" Ziva kept her voice quiet. Once she knew they were being monitored, she could not bring herself to speak at full volume.
"That voice…I've heard that voice before." Like Ziva, Tony kept his voice low. He looked at his teammates. "It didn't seem…familiar to you guys?"
Gibbs, Ziva and McGee thought carefully, trying to recall if anything had been recognizable about their captor's voice. Gibbs spoke first, commenting softly, "It's hard to say. It was distorted by the sound system." Tim and Ziva nodded in silent agreement.
Tony shrugged. "Probably nothing," he whispered. He sounded somewhat stronger as he continued, "Maybe that jolt fried my brain."
McGee glared at the senior field agent. The terror he'd felt when he saw his friend hit the floor was still fresh in his mind. "That isn't funny. You could have been killed."
"Lighten up, Probie. I'm still alive, aren't I?" Tony grinned. The smile faded as he turned to Gibbs. "What now, Boss? We're not just going to sit here, are we? There's gotta be a way out. We need to figure out what in the hell is going on." Tony was still very pale and his hands continued to tremble, but his quiet voice was filled with stubborn resolve.
Gibbs nodded firmly. "The only question is, do we split up into pairs, or search the house as a group?"
Tony's eyes widened at the statement. "No way should we split up, Boss. You really just don't watch movies at all, do you?" Gibbs couldn't help but grin in response.
Ziva chimed in, her voice barely audible as she tried to keep their captor from overhearing the plans. "I think we should go in pairs. We can search much faster and more efficiently if we spread out."
"No, I agree with DiNozzo." Gibbs had come to a decision. Ziva raised a surprised eyebrow as the lead agent continued, "I don't think it's a good idea to get too far away from each other. The bastard said that the window was 'just the beginning'. God only knows what other booby-traps are hidden in this place." Ziva obviously did not agree, but she nodded her acquiescence.
"So let's go." Tony slowly leaned away from McGee's firm support and with the younger man's help, managed to find his footing. The senior field agent was a little unsteady at first but soon drew himself to his full height. He nodded resolutely in answer to Gibbs' questioning glance. "I'm good, Boss. I can do this."
"Okay then. Everyone stay close." Gibbs shot a pointed look at McGee, silently instructing him to keep an eye on DiNozzo. Tim nodded and stepped a little closer to his partner. The team moved toward the hallway, careful not to touch anything if it could be avoided.
Gibbs peered out into the dark hall, carefully looking in both directions. At first he didn't see anything suspicious, but suddenly noticed a tiny red light. It was down at floor level, about three yards from the kitchen doorway. Gibbs watched the light for a moment and concluded that it was holding steady, no blinking or flashing.
"McGee," the lead agent whispered. "There's a red light down the hall. I can't tell what it's for. Come take a look."
Tim joined Gibbs in the doorway and together they cautiously leaned forward into the hall. After a visual inspection, McGee commented, "That wasn't on before, Boss. Ziva and I swept the hallway and bedrooms and walked right past it. I'm not sure what it is, could be any number of things, but probably some sort of laser trip." The junior agent fell silent, obviously thinking. "Maybe we should try and activate it from in here. Is there anything we could roll down the hall to try and trip the sensor, if it is one?"
"Good thinking, Probie!" Tony praised the younger man with a sincere grin. Gibbs agreed, and the four teammates looked around the kitchen for anything that might roll or even slide far enough to do the trick.
"Here!" Ziva exclaimed. She had discovered a large, perfectly cylindrical plastic jar on a shelf and held it up to show the others.
Tim nodded approvingly. "That might work," the junior agent said as he crossed the room to join her. He reached for the jar but Ziva jerked it away before he could touch it.
"No! Do not touch it! Something is wrong!" Her brown eyes were wide, and she backed quickly away from her concerned friends, muttering agitatedly in Hebrew.
"Ziva, what is it?" Gibbs approached the young woman as she threw the jar to the ground with a shout of pain. Ziva's teammates rushed to her side as she frantically began wiping her hands on her shirt.
"There was something…it is burning! Get it off!" She rubbed her hands against her pant legs, desperately trying to rid them of the painful sensation.
"Let me see! Ziva! Let me see them." Gibbs managed to gently grab Ziva's wrists and turn her hands palm-up. They were red and raw, and already beginning to blister.
"Boss! Here," came Tony's urgent voice. He had risked turning on the kitchen faucet and discovered – to his great surprise - that cold, clean water actually came out of the tap. Gotta be a catch. No way did the bastard make it that easy, he thought in frustration, but at the moment he didn't care.
Gibbs rushed Ziva to the sink and held her hands under the running water. She gasped as the cold stream touched the burns, but began to relax in Gibbs' arms as the chemical was rinsed away. He continued to rinse her hands for a few minutes, then pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket to gently pat them dry.
Once finished, the lead agent guided Ziva to the ground. "Sit for a minute, let me take a closer look," he instructed her kindly. Tony slowly sat down beside the pair. Gibbs offhandedly noticed how stiff and awkward the younger man's movements were and made a mental note to check on him next.
As Gibbs and Tony examined Ziva's hands, Tim pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and put them on. He cautiously inspected the cylinder and sighed. "Boss, there's no way for me to know what burned her. Whatever it is, it's completely odorless and invisible." Tim paused. "It could cover every surface in this house and we would never know."
"Great," Gibbs said shortly, before returning his attention to the young woman beside him. "Are you okay, Ziva?" The burns on her hands looked painful, but thankfully did not seem too severe.
"I am fine, Gibbs." She continued in a disgusted tone, "I am just angry at myself. After what happened to Tony, I should have known better than to touch anything! It was stupid!"
"That's enough. Don't you dare blame yourself. Blame the bastard that trapped us here!" Gibbs' tone was unintentionally sharp. He was having a hard time following his own advice. Shouldn't have ignored my gut, he thought furiously. Because I did, I've got two injured team members.
Gibbs turned to Tony, who didn't look any better than he had before. If anything he looked worse, although he was obviously trying to disguise his discomfort. Anticipating the older man's question, DiNozzo attempted his usual bright grin.
"I'm peachy, Boss. Don't worry about me." Tony said stubbornly, even as he clenched his hands into fists to hide the fact that he couldn't keep them from shaking. Be glad he isn't checking your pulse, Tony said to himself. His heart was still fluttering wildly in his chest and he was beginning to feel dizzy and faint. DiNozzos do not pass out, DiNozzos do not pass out, he repeated inwardly in attempt to make it the truth.
"DiNozzo." Gibbs' voice carried a warning.
Tony was saved from his boss' scrutiny when Tim interrupted the exchange. "Hey, look at this," the junior agent said. He had placed the jar on the ground upside down and pointed at the bottom of the container. There was a small white label, two inches square, stuck to the underside of the jar.
"What is that?" Gibbs could tell there was something written on the label but couldn't see it from across the room. He got up to take a better look. Ziva gracefully rose to her feet and followed, holding her blistered hands away from any contact with her body. Tony did not bother to move from his position on the filthy tile floor.
Gibbs tilted his head and squinted at the crudely-drawn picture on the label. "Don't have my glasses. Is that what I think it is?"
McGee nodded. "I think so, Boss. It looks like the rank insignia for a Master Sergeant."
"He said there would be clues," Ziva mused softly. "Although I do not recall any recent cases involving a Marine Master Sergeant."
"Neither do I," Tim agreed. He tried to think of a case where they might have investigated a Master Sergeant, either as a victim or a suspect. "I just can't come up with anything," he reaffirmed after a few minutes.
Gibbs had been silently searching his own memory, with similar results. He was about to say as much when he, Ziva and Tim were distracted by a new sound coming from across the large room. It sounds like...hissing? Gibbs thought, momentarily puzzled.
"Um, Boss?" Tony managed as his body was suddenly wracked by choking coughs. He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. "I think we're being gassed."
