2.
Halfway through the first panel, Tony began to relax. So far there had been no sign of Frank DiNozzo. Tony hoped this meant that his father had sent one of his minions to the conference rather than coming himself.
With that potential problem pushed to the back of his mind, Tony could now enjoy the Leroy Jethro Gibbs Show. Currently his boss was trying to convince a pompous businessman that finagling the books of a company was not only a violation in the eyes of the Internal Revenue Service and the banking industry, but that the hidden money would not be used for the benefit of the community. Unless that community consisted of drug dealers, illegal gambling operations, or terrorists.
"Everything's about terrorism for you people," the man snapped in disgust.
"Not everything," Gibbs replied. "But, yes, the various federal agencies are concerned about terrorism in regards to the flow of hidden money."
"Those freaking Arabs are too busy killing each other to come back here again."
"You're either incredibly naïve or just plain stupid if you believe that!" Gibbs said sharply.
Tony winced, shaking his head.
"Why do you assume that all terrorists are Arab? Or even foreigners? Remember Oklahoma City? McVeigh was a terrorist, by any definition of the term, a white Christian American with no tie to any foreign terrorist organization or group."
There were murmurs throughout the audience as they considered Gibbs' statement.
"Terrorists can be anyone who uses force or threats to intimidate or cause fear to obtain their objectives. Homegrown terrorists are, without question, the hardest to find."
The representative from the FBI nodded his head in agreement. "Special Agent Gibbs is correct. They are the hardest to find and, in some cases, harder to convict."
"Why is that, Agent Mendez?" asked a young woman who appeared to be with a group of business realtors.
"They look, act, and have beliefs just like you. You want an example? Consider one of the most controversial decisions of the Supreme Court, Roe vs. Wade. If you don't believe the Court was right, you might sympathize with the abortion clinic protestors. If you picket legally outside a clinic, you might understand why someone would trash a doctor's office or his car, even though it's illegal. After all, it's just a case of vandalism against individuals who violate the sanctity of life by performing abortions. No one gets hurt."
The FBI agent looked around the room, noting which individuals were frowning and which ones were nodding in agreement. "But there are those who don't believe that all life is sacred, that find it not only reasonable but necessary to maim and kill to protect the unborn. These individuals, these criminals, these terrorists hope that by instilling fear, they can achieve their objective to stop legal abortions and put the clinics and doctors out of business, in some cases permanently. And with that mindset of the end justifying the means, they don't care how many innocents might die in the pursuit of their goal."
Gibbs spoke. "Ireland, Iraq, Israel, Palestine, Western Europe, South Africa, America, the list is endless. The reason for conflict may be religion or color, ethnicity or lifestyle, morality or status. No matter the cause, the result is the same. People die."
Agent Mendez stared out at the room. "You have the right to peacefully protest. You do not have the right to break the law."
"Or to fund those whose only aim is to kill anyone who disagrees with them," concluded Gibbs.
The moderator, a ranking member of the Financial Action Task Force, sponsor of the countrywide conferences, called for a twenty minute break.
Gibbs returned to the table where his senior agent sat, holding a pitcher of water in one hand and an empty glass in the other.
"Need something to drink, boss?"
"I need coffee, good coffee," Gibbs growled. "And unless you want to be wearing that water, you'd better put it down."
"I'm proud of you. Your hand only twitched a couple of times toward your weapon." Taking pity on Gibbs, Tony revealed the presence of a Starbucks just around the corner from the hotel.
The older man glowered at DiNozzo. "And exactly how long have you known this important piece of Intel?"
"Recently, boss. Honest." Tony flashed his most innocent smile, serving to increase Gibbs' suspicions.
Gibbs popped Tony on the back of his head as he stalked off in pursuit of the life-giving elixir, leaving Tony covering the spot with his hand and grinning.
"Well, Anthony, I see nothing much has changed. You still require discipline."
Tony froze at the smooth tones coming from behind him. He slowly turned to face the stocky man who was coldly surveying him. "Hello, Father. I didn't think you'd be here."
"You mean you hoped I wouldn't be."
Taking a deep breath, Tony nodded. "Yeah, you might say that. Guess you wanted to pick up a few new ideas on where and how to hide your money."
"Careful, Anthony. You may be my son…"
"A fact you remember only when it's convenient," Tony commented as he clenched his teeth.
Frank DiNozzo ignored the interruption. "…but that doesn't entitle you to any special favors."
"Favors? The only favor you ever did for me, Father, was shipping me off to boarding school where I learned that not every family was as screwed up as mine." Tony watched as his father's beefy hand rose to strike him, unable to move out of range as he was thrown back to his childhood.
"Tony!" Thomas Teasdale suddenly appeared, stepping between Tony and his irate father. "I didn't realize you'd be here."
Tony was startled as well as embarrassed that Teasdale had observed the confrontation. He saw that his father managed to stop his hand just in time, avoiding hitting Teasdale in the back.
"How are you feeling? Have you recovered completely? I know how cold it was wearing weather appropriate clothes. I can't imagine how you survived without a bad case of pneumonia or frostbite." Teasdale's deep blue eyes were intently focused on Tony, his chatter giving the agent time to regain his equilibrium.
"I'm…I'm just fine, Tom. A little cold was the only lasting damage. Well, that and a fiercesome headache from the rock I managed to find under the snow." He carefully backed away, allowing Teasdale to move to one side, away from Frank DiNozzo. "How's my girl doing?"
"Missing you. Jen will be bringing the girls to town on Friday. If you're still here and don't mind being the center of girlish worship, we'll go out to eat."
"That'll be great." Tony heard his father clear his throat and reluctantly introduced the two men. "Tom, this is Francisco DiNozzo, my father. Father, this is Thomas Teasdale."
Frank bared his teeth in what passed for a smile, sticking his hand out. "I know who he is, Anthony. I've tried to contact you for a possible business deal for months now, Thomas. Your secretary apparently didn't pass on my calls."
Teasdale shook the older man's hand, no answering smile on his own handsome face. "I've heard of you, Mr. DiNozzo. And my secretary has always been diligent in passing along all messages."
Tony grinned. "Which one?"
Tom returned the grin. "Both. She might not have been much of a human being, but Annabelle Giles was one hell of a secretary."
"Gotta be good at something. She certainly wasn't that hot a criminal."
"Or she came up against the wrong victim with you. But whichever it was," Teasdale turned his attention back to an annoyed Frank DiNozzo, "rest assured that all messages are passed on to me, Mr. DiNozzo."
"Call me Frank. So how would you have ever met someone like my son?"
"Tony risked his life to save my daughters from kidnappers. You should be very proud of him." Teasdale clapped Tony on the back.
"Yes, of course. Glad he could be of service to you," Frank said, dismissing the importance of his son's actions. "Perhaps we can talk a little business during this week."
Teasdale shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just here for the conference, particularly since Teasdale Industries is considering some foreign investments. I want to know what to look out for."
Frank persevered. "I might be able to help with that. I have a lot of contacts in the European states."
"Yeah," Tony said, earning an unspoken promise of future retribution when he pushed his nose to one side. "He can also hook you up with some great offshore banks as well."
"Anthony, this is business, something you never had an interest in nor the talent for."
"I wouldn't say that. DiNozzo here is very sharp when it comes to spotting cooked books. Never could understand where he got that knowledge. Before now."
Tony grinned, feeling his tense muscles relaxing. "Hey, boss. Found the coffee, huh?"
Gibbs moved from behind his agent, coolly eyeing the elder DiNozzo before greeting Teasdale. "Tom, good to see you again."
"You, too, Jethro." Teasdale inhaled deeply, his eyes closing in pleasure. "That coffee definitely isn't from the hotel."
Gibbs snorted. "Not hardly. Tony found a Starbucks around the corner. Not my usual brand, but it beats the swill they serve here."
"Bilge water would beat the brew here."
"So, Mr. DiNozzo, are you here for the conference or to see your son?" Gibbs asked.
"And you are who?"
"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Your son is my senior agent. You didn't answer my question."
"If it is any of your business, I thought the conference might be of use."
"Unlike your son," Tony muttered.
Frank's look was disdainful. "You've never been useful before. Why would I expect anything to change?"
Stung, Tony fought back. "Father, I'm not useless just because I wouldn't follow your plans for my life."
"You're nothing but a dreamer, Anthony. Dreamers are useless as I'm certain Thomas will agree."
"Dreamers are anything but useless, Mr. DiNozzo. They are the inventors who shape the future. They imagine what the world could be and make it happen," Teasdale gently corrected the older man. "What you consider a weakness, I find to be an asset. This particular dreamer, as you call him, had the ability to think outside the box, to find a way to hide my eldest daughter and keep her safe from both the kidnappers and the weather."
Teasdale smiled at Tony. "If I could lure him away from NCIS, I would hire Tony right this minute."
"As what? A glorified security guard?" Frank DiNozzo spat out.
"As vice-president of operations."
Frank spun on his heel, walking stiffly away.
"Man, he's pissed," Tony said. "I thought I was the only one who could get him that mad. Tom, I appreciate what you said."
"I meant it, Tony. You'd be a real asset to my company."
"Stop trying to poach my agent, Tom," Gibbs ordered. "Break's over. Time to go back into the conference room."
"Oh, joy. More opportunities to keep you from shooting somebody," Tony said, chuckling, relieved that for once his stomach wasn't tied up in knots after a go-round with his father.
"This I've got to see," Tom said, accompanying the two special agents as they returned to the panel.
