Chapter One

Six weeks earlier

NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo watched Gibbs finish signing off on the team's quarterly reports. The office was on muted lighting, most of the other agents in the building long gone for the day. Although Gibbs had dismissed the team over two hours earlier, Tony had stuck around. He felt it was his duty to air his doubts to the man he had worked with for so many years.

He propped himself against Gibbs' desk, gently poking at his boss' packed duffle bag with the toe of his shoe. "I don't like this. Why is Vance sending you over there alone?"

"I was specifically requested. Probably someone I've dealt with on a prior trip to Iraq."

"Okay, I can understand that this guy, whoever he is, doesn't want to give his Intel to some stranger. But going over there alone? That's against policy. NCIS special agents are always sent in pairs to war zones. Always."

"DiNozzo." Leroy Jethro Gibbs gave his senior agent a look of fond exasperation. "Stop worrying. I'm a big boy. I can go places all by myself."

"I know that, boss. Of course you can. It's just…" Tony's voice trailed off, not willing to share the source of his concern, Abby's dreams of danger and death. The older man would dismiss the forensic expert's nightmares as a result of too many Caf-Pow!s and too little sleep. Tony couldn't be so cavalier, having prior experience with Abby's dreams and hinky feelings.

"Tony, you have to get past it," Gibbs said softly.

"Past what?"

"Your distrust of the director."

"This isn't about Vance."

Gibbs just looked at him.

"It's not, I swear. But you're right about one thing, I don't trust the Toothpick. I've been used and manipulated by two directors now. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it happen to anyone else. This whole thing stink, Gibbs."

"Tony." Gibbs leaned back in his chair, gazing into the other man's worried green eyes. "I'll take care. If I need help, I'll call."

"If you can," Tony muttered. Although Gibbs' promise didn't do much to calm Tony's concerns, he knew it was all he would get.

Tony had agreed to drive Gibbs to the airport to catch a commercial flight into Germany. From there Gibbs would hitch a ride on a military transport heading to Baghdad. That was something else puzzling Tony. There were direct flights into Iraq, both military and commercial. So why the roundabout travel plans? Punishment? Or just Vance making a point?

Arriving at the airport, Tony changed lanes to pull up to the curb, slipping in front of a taxi cab. He ignored both the angry blare of the horn as well as the colorful language and hand gestures tossed out the driver's window. Surprised when Gibbs didn't immediately get out, Tony put the car in park. "Boss?"

"Watch out for yourself."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

"Don't let Vance yank your chain."

Tony managed to shrug, saying offhandedly, "I'll behave. Just make sure you come home soon or Abby will be building a new shrine."

With a snort of laughter, Gibbs pulled his duffle out from behind the front seat. He disappeared into the crowd of air passengers.

Tony shook his head before pulling into traffic, driving back to the Navy Yard to put in a few more hours of work.

~NCIS~

Early the next morning Tony was at his desk, working on a possible lead in a cold case, the death of Petty Officer Louis Mandeville in 1998. He was on the phone when Tim McGee and Ziva David arrived, exiting the elevator together. They both looked at Gibbs' unoccupied desk before settling at their own.

"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate your help." Tony hung up the receiver. "McGee, I need you to pull everything you can find on Katrina Marshall. I forwarded her particulars to your in-box."

"A former girlfriend, Tony? One who escaped?" Ziva asked, eyeing him with a calculating expression.

"No, Ziva, a possible murderer. I want both of you to read over these files. It's a cold case that may be heating up. Be up to speed by the time I return."

Tony took the elevator down to Abby Sciuto's lab. As he walked in, he saw that she had restored her Gibbs wallpapers on all her computers, just as she had when Gibbs left for Mexico. With an unconscious straightening of his shoulders, Tony moved closer to the center of the unusually quiet room. "He'll be back, Abby. In a couple of weeks or so."

"I hope so." She took a deep breath. "Okay, okay. What can I do for you?"

Understanding that, for the moment, there would be no further discussion regarding their absent leader, Tony got down to business. "I need you to pull archived evidence for an unsolved murder. Here's the case file number. Take a look at everything, see if the science has advanced enough in the last few years to help convict our killer."

"Is there a specific suspect?" Abby asked.

"Maybe. Too soon to tell." Tony turned to leave, stopped by a quiet voice.

"Tony? You'll let me know when he calls?"

He reached out, pulling her in for a hug. "Of course, Abs. You don't have to ask."

"I'm sorry. I know I don't. It's just…I had that dream again last night."

"Exactly the same?"

Abby nodded, burying her face in the crook of Tony's neck. "There's so much blood," she murmured into his skin.

"I wish I could help, but all we can do is wait. Why don't you ask Sister Rosita to put in a good word for Gibbs?"

"Okay."

With an extra squeeze and a kiss on her forehead, Tony stepped away. "And I promise to bring some Caf-Pow! on my next visit."

"You'd better, mister," Abby replied in an attempt at normalcy.

Once back upstairs, Tony began to discuss the cold case with Ziva and McGee. Or tried to.

"Gibbs has barely left, Tony, and you are acting like you are in charge." Ziva's expression was taut and derisive.

"Officer David, I am in charge." Tony looked at both of his team in turn. "I am a Senior Field Agent. My position description, if you bothered to read it, states that I am second-in-command to the Supervisory Special Agent, who would be Gibbs. I put up with a lot of disrespect and insubordination from both of you when Gibbs left for Mexico. I let it slide because I knew we were all reeling. That was my mistake. Even after Gibbs came back, the disrespect continued. You were both just a little more careful not to go too far in front of him."

"Tony," McGee said, troubled.

"No, Tim, this is long overdue. You and I worked through our issues and made our peace. Even when we have problems, we talk it out. We fix it. You may not always like what I say, but you've returned to respecting the position. Most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"At times I've seen you fall back into blindly following Ziva's lead. And not in a good way."

Ziva waver her hand dismissively. "You are overreacting. You are not Gibbs, yet you strut around bleating orders as if you were."

"Bleating?" Tim's voice was unsteady with suppressed laughter.

"I think she means barking," Tony said smoothly, no expression on his face.

"Barking, bleating. Animal noises. You are not my boss."

"I am your superior in the NCIS chain of command. You have a choice to make, Officer David. You can either accept that I am your superior or I can suspend you for chronic insubordination."

She lifted her chin, meeting his icy gaze straight on. "You cannot do that."

"I most definitely can and I will," Tony retorted, a silken thread of warning in his voice. "I'm not longer willing to let your attitude slide by without correction. You've stated that you wish to be a special agent. Part of that job is respecting the chain of command. Take an early lunch. Go clear your head. When you return, I expect to see a serious attitude adjustment. I don't care if you hate my guts, but I demand that you acknowledge my position of authority. Understand me, Ziva, my patience is at an end."

Ziva tilted her head in a nod and stalked out of the bullpen.

"Wow, Tony."

"I had no choice, McGee. She still hasn't realized that things are different, that I'm different. In her mind, I'm still the comedy relief. That role is over."

"I hope Ziva realizes how wrong that is."

"We'll see," Tony replied.