Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and any copyright infringement is unintentional.
Hiding to Nothing
Chapter 4
The glass doors slid open as the lead agent approached, allowing Gibbs access to the sub-ground level Autopsy room. Apart for the dim glow of a few safety lights, the large room was in darkness. Frowning, he turned to leave and spotted the chief medical examiner sitting at his desk absently swirling a glass of single malt whisky in his hand.
"Prior to receiving a fatal gunshot wound to the thoracic cavity, Petty Officer Jason Harvey was in excellent physical condition," Ducky reported in a flat tone with none of his usual fervour.
"Duck."
"The bullet deflected off the sixth rib and caused catastrophic injury to the right ventricle and atrium. His death would have been mercifully quick. I've sent to bullet to Abigail."
Gibbs rounded the desk, removed a second glass from the drawer and poured himself a drink. He sat across from his old friend and threw back a deep swig, enjoying the burning sensation as the liquid travelled to his abdomen. As Gibbs offered his silent support to the clearly troubled doctor, Ducky continued his report.
"As we now know, our John Doe is Alam Bhaskara," Ducky said. "Mr Bhaskara met his demise when a round from a Petty Officer Harvey's Beretta struck him in the throat at great velocity, severing his inner jugular and his carotid artery. He suffered massive and rapid blood loss and would have bled out in moments. I will have my written report on your desk within the hour."
Gibbs nodded, noting the deep lines of concern forming at the corners of the doctor's eyes and mouth.
"You okay, Duck?"
"I'm assuming you have spoken with Abigail?" the ME asked.
"She confirmed the blood at the scene was Tony's," Gibbs replied flatly.
"Then you understand why I am beside myself with worry for our young men," Ducky replied, taking a few deep breaths and rubbing his tired eyes. "Mr Palmer's fiancé, Breena, has left several messages on my voice mail regarding the whereabouts of her betrothed. What on earth am I going to tell the dear girl?"
"Tell her the truth. Tell her we're looking for them and we'll bring 'em home."
"First Gerald and now Mr Palmer – I'm not sure I can cope with losing another assistant, Jethro."
"He'll be fine, Duck. Tony's with him."
"You just said yourself, the blood found at the scene is Anthony's. He could be badly injured."
"My money's still on DiNozzo," Gibbs replied confidently. "If there's a way out, Tony will find it."
"And what about Mr Palmer?" Ducky asked. "The boy is a medical student, he is not trained for these situations."
"A few years back, Palmer showed a lot of courage in a tough situation," Gibbs stated.
Ducky nodded slowly, then looked at Gibbs with anguish and concern evident in his eyes.
"Anthony has been in some frightful situations over the years and I've witnessed you move heaven and earth to bring him home safely," Ducky said.
"No one gets left behind, Duck."
"That's true of course, however, when that someone is Anthony, it is strikingly obvious that there is much more than your Marine honour that drives you."
Never one to speak openly about his feelings, Gibbs quirked a smile at his old friend in silent agreement.
"However, it wasn't until young Mr Palmer went missing that I truly understood the anguish one feels when one is faced with losing someone they care deeply about."
The shrill of Gibbs' cell disturbed the sombre conversation. With a shrug of apology, Gibbs took the call, listening for a moment before snapping the cell shut.
"That was McGee; he's cleaned up the tape from the drug store. Need you to look at the tape, Duck, tell me how bad Tony's injured."
As the two men stood and moved toward the elevator, Gibbs clapped a hand on the older man's back.
"We'll find 'em Duck."
They joined Abby, Ziva and McGee in the forensic lab where McGee explained that although they were able to clean up the resolution slightly, the vision remained grainy and shadowy.
"Let's see it," Gibbs ordered.
They watched the poor quality tape, squinting as if the gesture would bring greater clarity. Although the images weren't clear enough to run facial recognition programs on the armed men, they had no trouble determining each party by their position and physique.
Abby stifled a scream as Tony stepped through the front door of the drug store and was immediately gunned down.
"He never stood a chance," Ziva said solemnly, frowning in irritation at her ringing cell then stepping aside to take the call.
"Duck?" Gibbs asked, unable to take his eyes off the image of his injured agent lying unmoving on the floor.
"Judging from the angle, I would estimate that Anthony was hit high in the right shoulder in the vicinity of the clavicle."
"Never found a bullet. Must've lodged in his shoulder," Gibbs added. "What are we looking at?"
"Well, apart from the obvious pain, there's the risk of shock, loss of blood, the onset of infection or septicaemia. Anyone of these symptoms is very serious indeed."
"There's no way Tony's going to be able to use his arm," McGee said.
"Don't need him to use his arm, McGee," Gibbs replied. "Need him to use his head and buy us some time. Keep working on that tape, we need to know who we're up against."
"Boss, I'm not sure we're going to get it any better than it is now…but…I'll keep trying," he said, correctly interpreting the team leader's pointed look.
"Gibbs," Ziva said walking back to the group. "That was the VCU Medical Centre. Petty Officer Leyton has regained consciousness."
"You're with me," Gibbs replied heading for the door.
"Find them, Jethro," Ducky called after him.
"Working on it, Duck."
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After making yet another circuit of the small room, Palmer leaned against the wall and allowed his body to slide downward until he was seated on the floor. He hugged his knees to his chest and cast his eyes to the window above, noticing the darkening sky. Concern and tension had taken its toll and he felt completely drained. He could occasionally hear voices and the movement of their captors from the other rooms. Although they did not speak in English, the volume and tone told him that they were arguing about something - Jimmy hoped it wasn't how best to dispose of their hostages.
Awareness had come slowly for Tony but not the pain. One minute he was drifting, trying to discern what noises he was hearing and the next he'd been hit with the throbbing pain from his injured shoulder. His eyes fluttered open to find that Palmer had secured his arm across his chest and then zipped it inside his hoodie to immobilise it.
He lay staring at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts. Who the hell were these guys and what had happened in the state forest? A meet had gone wrong, obviously, but what kind of meet was it - what was exchanged? Not money or there'd be no need to rob the drug store. He'd seen no evidence of drugs or weapons? Everything about their captors said amateur. From the panic and the arguing, Tony would bet McGee's paycheck that the John Doe killed at the state forest was the man calling the shots.
If these guys had been professionals, he and Palmer would be back at the drug store with bullets in their heads. The need to rob the drug store told him that they had been cut off from their money. The fact that there were no blindfolds, no attempt to disguise their identity, told Tony that they would most likely be killed when they were of no further use. It all smelled of desperation and while that made them dangerously unpredictable, it was also something that Tony could work to his advantage.
Despite their bleak situation, Tony was certain of one thing – Gibbs. He knew the former Marine would leave no stone unturned until he found them and he understood that his job was to keep Palmer safe and to play for time. He was determined to do just that.
"You're awake," Palmer said, moving to Tony's side. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine, Palmer," Tony lied. "Help me up."
After a few false starts – each punctuated by colourful curses – Palmer helped Tony into a sitting position where he dragged his fiercely protesting body against the wall.
"They gave us some water," the young ME said. "You really should drink some."
"Maybe later" Tony whispered, his eyes closed.
"You have to drink, Tony," Palmer insisted. "First rule of survival. Whenever food or water presents itself, you take it."
Tony's eyes flickered open, rippled with pain and misery and dilated almost enough to hide the colour.
"You've been watching Bear Grylls again haven't you?" he quipped accepting the bottle of water and savouring the feel of the cool fluid.
With Palmer now sitting beside him, Tony took a better look at their temporary prison. The window was barred and offered no chance of escape while the door looked solid with its hinges on the outside. A small viewing window had been carved out of the door, allowing their captors to peer in at them.
"Not exactly the Ritz-Carlton," Palmer commented. "Lucky for me I thought to use the rest room at the gas station right before this happened. It would be awful to sit here thinking how much you wanted to relieve yourself."
Tony rolled his eyes.
"Thanks for that Palmer, now I cant think of anything else," he replied irritably.
"Oh, sorry…but at least it took your mind off your shoulder."
The viewing window slid open and a pair of dark eyes glared at them from the other side. A moment later the door opened and Sanjaya and Muluk entered, placing a single wooden chair in the centre of the room.
"Decorating?" Tony asked. "I'm no Martha Stewart but it's gonna take a little more than a chair to add that homely feel."
Ignoring the sarcastic comment, the two men grabbed Jimmy roughly and dragged him to the chair. Muluk grabbed a fistful of Jimmy's hair and bent his head back painfully while Sanjaya examined the contents of Palmer's wallet.
"Where is your money?" he snapped.
"That's…that's all I have," he said. "Sixty dollars."
"Where are your ATM and credit cards?"
"Oh, my fiancé has them. You see, I'm getting married soon and we're trying to save for an apartment. I gave her my cards so I wouldn't be tempted-"
Furious, Sanjaya struck Palmer across the face, the force of the stinging blow almost knocking him from the chair.
"Leave him alone, he's telling you the truth," Tony said, feeling the rage building in his gut.
Sanjaya turned toward him, his eyes blazing. With a nod to Muluk, Palmer was thrown to the floor and the men dragged Tony to the chair in his place. As Tony gritted his teeth through the pain and tried to calm his breathing, Sanjaya explored the contents of Tony's wallet.
"I have ten free movie hires on my Blockbusters card; let us go and they're yours, no questions asked," Tony offered as Muluk grabbed him painfully by the neck.
"I don't like your sense of humour," he hissed in the agent's face.
"I get that a lot," Tony grimaced.
He watched as Sanjaya pocketed the cash and held Tony's ATM card inches from his face.
"Let me guess, you're having a cash flow problem," Tony said. "That's what happens when the guy with access to all the cash gets popped."
The men traded surprised glances.
"What? You didn't think we knew about your little shoot out at Bentley State Forest?" Tony continued. "Let me put it this way…right about now, every law enforcement officer on the east coast is on the lookout for you."
'This is gonna hurt' was all Tony had the time to think before the powerful blow smashed into his unprotected abdomen. He sat bent over, his eyes screwed shut while he tried to drag air into his straining lungs. After a long moment, he forced his body to sit up.
"Maybe I should put it another way…" he gasped.
"Give me your PIN?" Sanjaya interrupted fiercely.
"Do the words 'cold day' and 'hell' ring any bells for you?"
Sanjaya smiled predatorily then pressed down hard on Tony's wounded shoulder, eliciting a scream of pain from the injured man. When the red-mist cleared from Tony's vision, he saw Sanjaya's gun barrel resting against Palmer's head.
"Give me your PIN or he dies."
Tony met Sanjaya's glare with equal intensity, the two men locked in a wordless battle until the Indonesian's finger tightened around the trigger.
"Okay!" Tony answered hastily. "Okay…I'll tell you…put the gun down."
With a resigned sigh, Tony gave up the PIN. Muluk whipped the chair from beneath the wounded man, pitching him to the floor as they left the room and locked the door behind them.
"This is turning into a really bad day," Tony muttered as Palmer fussed and checked his wound.
"You know he's going to drain your account," Jimmy said.
"I'm…I'm counting on it," Tony panted.
"You are? I don't understand."
"Gibbs will be…looking for us. McGee or Abby will be tracing our cells and monitoring our accounts," he took a moment to catch his breath. "Hopefully they'll use an ATM with a security camera; Abby can get an ID and that'll help them find us."
"Huh…that's good thinking."
"Didn't get this job because of my smile, Palmer…actually, I did…but not just because of my smile."
"So you were going to give him your PIN all along."
"Yep."
"But you let him hurt you."
"Couldn't make it look too easy. He might've realised that I wanted him to do it."
"I can't decide whether that's incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."
"Now you're channelling Gibbs."
"Ah…Tony? There's just one thing," Jimmy said.
"What?"
"Next time…can you give him your PIN before he holds a gun to my head?" Palmer said with the hint of a smile.
"Deal."
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Watching the videotape over and over, McGee couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be the last sight he ever had of Tony DiNozzo and Jimmy Palmer. Was this to be his last memory of his senior field agent; would it overwhelm and overwrite all others and burn into his memory only to wake him in the middle of the night?
Was he never again going to hear Tony calling him Probie; see him launch a perfectly directed spit-ball across the bullpen or zero on that seemingly insignificant detail that opened up a whole new lead in an investigation? Would this grainy black and white image from a drug store security camera, showing Tony gunned down in cold blood be the image that his mind conjured every time he thought of Tony from now on?
He and Abby had watched it over and over, trying to enhance the clarity or to find something that would help; some miraculous clue that would tell them where Tony and Jimmy had been taken - but there was nothing. There was just Tony walking into the drug store, flashing that trademark smile then staggering suddenly as some unseen force impacted high on his chest. At first, he just stood there, looking surprised and confused with his mouth opened slightly as the pain overwhelmed him and his legs refused to bear his weight. He fell back into a display unit, upsetting the shelves as he fell to the ground and didn't move.
That was the part that Abby couldn't watch. Each time, she would turn to him and bury her head in the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Absently, he rubbed his hand in soothing circles on her back as he continued to examine the tape.
However many times they watched it, the result was the same. Palmer was dragged away as one of the unknown assailants stripped Tony of his weapons. Then Palmer was back, attempting to stop the bleeding by applying pressure to Tony's wound while the others looked agitated and panicked. Moments later, the men had heaved Tony to his feet and dragged him from the store.
As McGee leaned forward to rewind the tape again a strong hand caught his wrist and held it.
"Enough, Timothy," Ducky said firmly as he reached forward and switched off the machine.
McGee blinked at him owlishly.
"Ducky, there may be something…"
"There is nothing," the ME said definitively. "If there was anything to be found, you would have seen it by now. This is no time for you to second guess yourself."
"You're right," McGee said, dropping his shoulders.
"Would I be correct in assuming that neither of you have eaten?"
Abby and McGee exchanged guilty glances.
"Just as I thought," Ducky replied. "Depriving ourselves of nourishment is not helping Anthony or Mister Palmer. We must be at our best and brightest so we can find them and bring them home. Come, let's order in a late supper."
When Abby and McGee seemed reluctant to leave, the doctor sighed audibly and added wistfully.
"Truth be told, I find myself rather in need of the kind of reassurance one only receives from the company of family."
Abby was the first to recover from the older man's rare admission and she forced a smile onto her face.
"Then, Duckman, our company you shall have," she said as she linked her arm through his and walked them toward the door.
McGee watched them leave, his professional detachment warring with his need to provide and receive friendship and support. He quickly realised that Ducky was right; they may not be flesh and blood but in every way that mattered they were a family. He engaged the call forward to his cell and hurried after them.
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Ziva and Gibbs stood at the side of Petty Officer Paul Leyton's hospital bed, opposite an array of equipment monitoring his vitals and dispensing life-saving medication. Despite the medication his ashen pallor and dull eyes spoke of the pain he was in and an overprotective nurse loitered in the doorway ready to shoo the agents away if her patient became too distressed.
Leyton relayed the entire story, telling how his wife had recently told him that they were expecting their first child. He and Harvey had planned a night of celebration on their first shore leave in three months. They were at a bar and had already consumed a lot of alcohol when two women approached and asked to join them. The following morning, he and Leyton woke up in bed with the women in a sleazy hotel and had no memory of what had happened.
"Excessive alcohol can sometimes cause memory loss, Petty Officer," Ziva said.
"Maybe to one of us, Ma'am but not to both. Neither Jason or I could remember leaving that bar or anything else until we woke up. We had to be drugged."
"Perhaps, but it is not uncommon for a man to have too much to drink and then desire sex with a woman."
Leyton cast pleading eyes in Gibbs' direction.
"I am hopelessly in love with my wife, Sir. We've been trying for a baby for three years. No amount of alcohol would make me betray her trust."
"I believe you, Leyton," Gibbs replied, his gut telling him this young man was telling the truth. "What happened next?"
The petty officer continued explaining how four men walked into their hotel room and told them that the women were under age Muslims girls. They threatened to have the sailors arrested telling them that they would be jailed and would face the death penalty. After several hours, the sailors were told that there would be no charges laid if they agreed to deliver a flash drive to a contact in the US.
"Did you not think to report this to your commanding officer?" Ziva asked.
"These men had our ID's, Ma'am, they knew who we were and where we lived. They threatened the lives of our families if we didn't co-operate."
"How'd you contact them?" Gibbs asked.
"They gave us a burn phone and they called us with a time and place."
"Still got the cell?"
"No, Sir, they asked for it and the flash drive at the exchange."
"Did you or Petty Officer Harvey look at the flash drive before you gave it back?" Ziva asked.
"We did, Ma'am. The morning of the exchange we went to an internet café downtown. We wanted to know what we were handing over. It looked like some kind of list but it was written in another language. We couldn't read it."
"And when you gave them the cell and the flash drive?" Gibbs asked.
"That's when all hell broke loose."
Leyton gave Gibbs the location of the internet café and the computer they'd used. Gibbs flipped open his cell, ignoring the icy look from the hawk-eyed nurse, and called Abby on speed dial.
"I swear, Gibbs, you're, like, totally freakishly psychic! I was just about to call you."
"Watchya got Abs?"
"Someone just activated Tony's savings account."
"Where?" Gibbs asked.
"A remote ATM at a 7/11 in Sandston Virginia, that's only about ten minutes from your location."
"Contact the local LEO's," Gibbs said, signalling Ziva to follow as he loped toward the elevator. "Tell them to get someone there now."
"McGee's already called them, Gibbs, they're on their way," Abby replied.
Ten minutes later Gibbs fishtailed the agency sedan into the parking lot of the Sandston 7/11, screeching to a halt beside a Sussex County Sheriff's patrol car. He and Ziva climbed from the car, hoping to get their first real break on this case but the apprehensive expression on the local LEO's face dashed their hopes immediately.
The deputy shrugged apologetically as he explained that the suspect was gone by the time he'd arrived. However, he had ensured that no one else had used the ATM. Gibbs felt his gut twist painfully as he and Ziva grabbed their gear from the trunk.
"Gibbs, this man knew Tony's PIN. This proves he is alive, yes?" Ziva said.
"Only proves he was alive when he gave it to him."
"We will find them," Ziva said confidently as she carried the equipment to the ATM.
Gibbs shook his head and allowed a wry smile to tease the corner of his mouth. Although he still had no idea where his agent was being held, he was buoyed by the fact that, even injured, Tony was doing exactly what Gibbs needed him to do – he was using his head and buying some time knowing that the former Marine would do everything he could to find him. As he joined Ziva at the ATM to dust for prints, he made a silent vow: -
'Hold on, Tony, I'm coming for you.'
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A/N The value of your reviews is something I never take for granted and I have always endeavoured to answer each one, with the exception of anon reviews. Though my thanks were a little tardy this week, please know that they were just as sincere.
I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading and for your kind support. L
