AN- Thank you so much for your continued support of this story. I do love to read all your comments and PMs. Hope you enjoy this next instalment
In spite of the tight turnaround DiNozzo prepared for his undercover stint with his usual meticulous care. Knowing that in a case like this all the items he had allegedly bought with his ill gotten gains would be seized as evidence he started shaving with a cheap plastic razor that left his skin red mottled. He pared his wardrobe down to a basic selection of his most worthless and well worn items. He rubbed dirt under his finger nails and stopped styling or washing his hair. Even though he was essentially going under cover as himself the Anthony DiNozzo that waited to be released on 'bail' twenty four hours after his 'arrest' bore little resemblance to the usually suave Special Agent.
"Next time I'm arrested, I think I'll stick with the jail cell," Tony scowled at Fornell as he unsuccessfully tried to get a crick out of his back. "You need a new couch."
"Ever think maybe you need to stop getting arrested?" Fornell returned dryly, as he dished up a plate of bacon and sausage. "Here. The condemned man ate a hearty meal and all that."
"Thanks. I'll have Gibbs settle my account," Tony sat down and began to eat. "How is my investigation going?"
"Well, your apartment has become a crime scene, everything is being parcelled up and tagged as evidence, your car has impounded, your bank accounts are all frozen, your credit cards have been stopped, your computer at NCIS, your laptop and your cell phone are all being scrutinized to see what else you did with the money."
"You did tell your people to fold everything didn't you?" Tony paused with his fork in the air. "And my car needs to be garaged overnight. Plus there are some non regulation items on my work computer that I'd really rather the Director didn't get to hear about."
Fornell raised a brow at the heartfelt pleas, but he wasn't entirely unsympathetic. Making this whole scenario pass muster had basically turned the kid's entire life upside down and it wasn't as if he was actually guilty of any crime, which given the lack of alternatives, was partly why he had agreed to Gibbs' request to take him in for a couple of nights, rather than force him to spend the time in jail.
"Everything's been carefully packed and tagged, Miss Scuito promises that she is taking good care of your baby – her words not mine – and since you are not actually under investigation Gibbs has all computers and stuff. I wouldn't worry about him finding anything. It's all he can do to pick up his own e-mails."
"So, basically, I'm just homeless, broke and unemployed," Tony forced a grin. "This is going to be a fun few days."
"Your team is here," Fornell observed, as he looked out of the kitchen window. "I better put on some more coffee."
"Morning former teammates," Tony greeted them all as they came into the kitchen. He finished up his last bite of sausage and politely carried his now empty plate to the sink. "How's life working for a living?"
"You're still on the clock, DiNozzo," Gibbs reminded him. "You just aren't getting paid for it."
Behind him Ziva and McGee exchanged a silent look. Instead of his usual designer suit and tie, DiNozzo was wearing a pair of old jeans, a faded t-shirt and a cotton shirt courtesy of Gibbs which was a size too small like it had shrunk in the wash. On his feet were a pair of scuffed trainers and a faint tan line around his wrist showed where his designer watch was missing. He looked every inch a man who had lost everything and been left with barely enough to scrape by with.
"What have you do to your hair?" Ziva frowned.
"Admit it, you like that. Even when I'm playing a guy who thinks NCIS ruined his life I still have it hey Zee-vah?"
"It looks ridiculous. Although, I do admire your attention to detail," Ziva wrinkled her nose. "As you have obviously not showered or brushed your teeth this morning."
"When you're trying to convince the bad guys that you're down on your luck and totally disillusioned minty fresh breath and attention to personal hygiene can get you killed." Tony was matter of fact.
"But aren't those jeans designer?" McGee tried to see the label.
"Hey, McOgling stop checking out my ass," Tony protested. "Can you think of a better way of advertising I'm used to the finer things in life without being too obvious about it? We need Robinson to think I am shallow and can be easily bought. Do not say anything, either of you!"
"Those the same jeans you blew a week's pay on last summer? Gibbs asked, as he helped himself to Fornell's coffee.
"Nothing I won't sacrifice in the service of my country, Boss."
"Plus you spilled red wine on 'em first time out." Gibbs nodded at the fairly obvious stain.
"That too," Tony agreed readily. "So, has my bail been posted?"
"It has," McGee agreed. "Your frat buddy was glad to help out even before I explained the circumstances. Although, he said that if you jump bail he'll feed you to the crocodiles the next time you're in Florida."
"Good to know," Tony nodded. "Seeing as I can't use my own money, contacting my father is out of the question, and all of you are too busy thinking I'm guilty to step up, it's nice to know I still have some friends I can rely on."
"Remember, since you were fired for misconduct, you're not going to be eligible for unemployment. You should make a point of mentioning that when talking to Robinson," Ziva smiled sweetly. "He needs to know how desperate you are."
"Luckily, since I am a first class investigator, when I felt the noose starting to tighten around me I made a few cash withdrawals, so I've got enough to get by for a few weeks if I'm frugal." Tony grinned dangerously.
"You're gonna go blow the lot in one go to get Robinson's attention aren't you?" Gibbs sighed.
"It was my taste for the high life that got me into this mess in the first place." Tony allowed with a devilish smirk.
"McGee," Gibbs ordered. "Check his chip thingy is working."
"Already have, Boss. Abby and I both have it programmed into our phones as well the laptop and the NCIS system so we can track him from wherever. We're good to go."
"Ziva?"
"We will leave here in two cars. As when we arrived Tony will ride in the trunk of Fornell's car to avoid detection. Once we have established that we are not being followed, Fornell will drive Tony back inside the prison so that he may be released on bail without raising suspicion. As a former Federal Agent it will believed that he has been kept in solitary for his own protection."
"DiNozzo?"
"I work my magic on Robinson, get him to give me a job, I dig the dirt on Henderson, we close the case and order pizza." Tony allowed.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Fornell frowned. Hell would freeze over before he would admit it, but over the years this young man had earned his respect. As much as they butted heads, if he ever tired of NCIS he would employ him in a heartbeat "Robinson might not seem that dangerous but anyone who has been associating with Henderson for over a decade, right under our noses, is somebody to watch for. And if Henderson works out that we are playing him, it's going to be your head on the block."
"Tobias," Tony beamed. "I can call you Tobias, now we've been roommates, right? I never knew you cared."
"Of course I care," Fornell gave a thin smile. "We need to crack this case if you go and get yourself killed all we will have is another dead end."
"Not funny, Tobias." Tony scowled.
"Gibbs, we should go," Ziva spoke up. "Tony is due to be released at 0800."
"Time to get back in the trunk, DiNutso." Fornell grinned.
"You are enjoying this way too much." Tony shot back.
Ziva and McGee trooped out to the Agency pool car waiting out front. Tony made to follow Fornell through the connecting door to the garage, as Only to be stopped by Gibbs' hand on his arm. Turning to give his Boss an enquiring look, Gibbs simply waited until all the others were all out of earshot. It hadn't escaped his notice that DiNozzo hadn't indulged in any of his usual grandstanding about his undercover role, just the opposite in fact.
"Hey." He began gently.
"Its fine, Gibbs," Tony interrupted him sharply, the use of his name rather than the more affectionate 'Boss" making it clear that this was his senior field agent talking rather than any of their more familial roles. "I'll do what I have to do to get the job done. Just like always."
Using two fingers, Gibbs reached out and tapped him gently under the chin. When he was sure he had DiNozzo's undivided attention he spoke just one word.
"We," He corrected firmly.
It was enough. Tony closed his eyes, draw a ragged breath and let his shoulders drop slightly. When he opened his eyes again, the brittle edge which had been evident since they arrived had melted away. Finding a somewhat bashful but entirely genuine smile he nodded his head in agreement.
"We'll do what we have to do, Boss." He repeated obediently.
Sliding into the driving seat of the Agency pool car, Gibbs ignored the curious looks from Ziva and McGee at the delay and waited until Fornell had got far enough ahead to ensure that they didn't stick out like a sore thumb as they checked for any tail. The scenery passed by as their journey continued uneventfully.
"What happens if Tony can't persuade Robinson to employ him?" McGee wondered aloud.
"He will." Gibbs' tone was resolute.
"I am worried about him," Ziva spoke up. "This is not like a normal undercover operation where he can become one of the characters from his movies. This man knows his father. It will be his own background he is using. Did you know that he intends to tell Robinson that the reason he cheated on his expenses was so that his father would think he was richer and more successful than was possible on a Federal Agent's salary?"
"DiNozzo knows what he's doing." Gibbs kept his eyes on the road.
"You are worried too," Ziva realised. "The stalks are higher than usual."
"Um, I think you mean, 'stakes," McGee corrected from the back seat. "The stakes are higher than usual."
"That makes no sense," Ziva frowned. "Stalks can grow therefore sometimes they might be higher than at other times. Surely stakes have to be cut, so would they not always be the same length?"
"It's not stakes as in pieces of wood, its stakes as in gambling," McGee started to explain until he caught Gibbs' glare in the rear view mirror. "None of which is really important right now."
They arrived at the jail without incident. Tony was duly processed and they followed discreetly as he caught a cab into the city. They all watched as he headed to a coffee shop across from Robinson's office and ordered a coffee and a double chocolate chip muffin, before helping himself to one of the complimentary newspapers and settling down at a sidewalk table.
"What's he doing?" McGee wondered.
"His shift doesn't start until 12.00." Gibbs commented.
"He already has a job with Robinson?" McGee exchanged a look with Ziva. That didn't sound right. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, his 'shift'?"
"He set up a job with the deli across the street," Gibbs nodded at the high end gourmet store in question. "They have the contract to deliver lunch orders to the employees in Robinson's building. He managed to persuade the owner to give him the executive floor, so he can't help but crossing paths with Robinson."
"The owner is a woman I presume?" Ziva sniffed.
"Unless, by persuade, you mean, bribe?" McGee added.
"Does it matter?" Gibbs shrugged.
He knew some people thought DiNozzo's methods were unorthodox, but he would go toe to toe with anyone who called him unprofessional, if it got the job done that was good enough for him, always had been. Gibbs would never admit it to outsiders but the younger man had taught him a thing or two over the years. When it came to thinking outside the box, DiNozzo was a master.
At 11.55 DiNozzo took himself across the street and a few minutes later disappeared with a cool box into the steel and glass edifice of Robinson's empire. By the end of the day, having taken his father's old friend out to lunch at one of the best places in town, followed by a long boozy afternoon at a private club as he poured out his apparent woes he had secured a job with Robinson as a part time accountant. Which he had relayed as for part time read dealing with all the under the counter deals he doesn't want his regular accountant to know about. For a day or two it seemed that everything was going as planned. DiNozzo rented a motel room, bought a cheap suit and dutifully passed on everything he could about the organisation.
And then came the third day.