Chapter 4

# # #

When the van carrying Tony and Tim stopped many miles later, the two agents waited, listening. They knew that, blindfolded and handcuffed as they were, they were in no position to make an attack when the door opened.

Indeed, all they could do was wait. When the rear door opened, "Come on; get out," one of their captors demanded.

"I can't see where I'm going," Tony griped.

The man swore. "All right, hang on. I guess you don't need the blindfolds now. You don't know how we got here."

"By van," Tim quipped as the blindfold was taken off him. For his smart remark he got a hard sock to his jaw.

"I'd headslap you myself if I could, McGeek," Tony hissed angrily. "Don't make them mad!"

"Get in the house," ordered Darrow, pointing a gun.

Tim and Tony got out of the van and glanced around to find themselves still in forest. Virginia had lots of forest land. This house, at least, was better maintained than the shack they'd been at. Smoke rose from the chimney.

"Your country estate?" Tony asked the crooks. They ignored him.

Inside the house was tastefully furnished, with thick carpets, paintings on the wall, antique furniture. And it was warm: the air was scented with wood burning in fireplaces. "Someone else's country estate," Tony then guessed. "Which you intend to loot."

"Eventually. But we have bigger stakes now. You."

"Thanks, but I'm not interested in a second job," said Tony. "My day job keeps me busy enough as it is. But listen; give me your card in case I'm ever laid off. I—"

"Shut up!" cried Darrow, and whacked Tony on the head with his gun. Tony dropped to the floor, on that nice, soft carpet.

# # #

He came to a while later, propped up against a wall in what appeared to be a dining room, still handcuffed. Something was hitting his shoulder. Tim.

"Good; you're awake," Tim said, stopping the nudging with his own shoulder. "There's soup. Eat it while it's still hot."

Before Tony was a small bowl of steaming soup. Since they were handcuffed with their hands in front of them, it was possible, however awkward, to pick up the bowl of soup and drink from it. Tony sniffed it and then drank it eagerly. Good, tangy vegetable soup. The crooks weren't in sight. "How long was I out?"

"Not too long."

"Have they said what they're going to do with us?"

"Nope."

"Why are they feeding us if they're going to kill us?"

"I don't know, but I didn't ask."

"Well, what do you know?!" Tony asked, exasperated. "What were you doing all this time while I was out?? Working on an escape plan, I hope!"

"I tried to defend you," Tim said quietly. "And got beat up in the process. I'm pretty sure that a couple of my ribs got broken."

For the first time, Tony noticed the bruises on Tim's face. "Aw, man…well, what do you think we should do?"

"Hmmm…we don't seem to be in immediate danger. The house is warm, so we're safe from the elements. Let's play it by ear. There's no way of summoning help without phones, anyway."

"It's a house! The owners must have a landline phone somewhere."

Tim shook his head, wincing a little at the pain this caused him. "I heard the guys say that the owners had the phones turned off. They're snowbirds; in Florida for the winter."

Tony swore, and finished the last of his soup. "Well, as long as they keep us fed…"

Looking grim, Tim shook his head. "They want us for something. Bargaining chips."

"We're hostages."

"Right. And you know how NCIS feels about hostages."

# # #

Their captors reappeared about an hour later. Tony looked them over, and then his mind clicked. Jasinski. The one in lock-up. That was the connection. Now, how to play this…

"Hey! I've gotta go to the can," he announced.

The captors eyed each other. "Take him, Moyers," said the one they'd identified as Darrow.

Moyers. You've got the smarts, Probie. Work with that. Do you recognize the name? Tony wished for telepathy, but he could see that Tim was already thinking. Good. As Moyers pulled him to his feet, Tony said, "I can't, uh, do much with these cuffs on."

Darrow sighed. "Unlock the handcuffs. But if you try anything, pal; your buddy here will get a bullet in the brain."

Wasn't planning on trying anything…yet. Just want to get an idea of where we are. There must be something in here we can use… "I won't try anything. Scout's honor." He looked serious, and, he hoped, believable. These are youthful perps. Immortal, they'd consider themselves. Probably with little value for others' lives. Yes, they were probably trigger-happy.

Bargaining chips. We've got to make sure that they remain convinced that we're worth having around.

"You'd better not. Or there'll be worse than this." Urban gave Tim a hard kick in the ribs, causing Tim to cry out and double over.

Tony winced. "I'm not going to make trouble, man." Damn. Sorry, McGee.

Darrow waved him away, and the man Moyers, accompanied by Urban, lead Tony to the bathroom. There Moyers unlocked the handcuffs while Urban kept a Glock pointed at Tony. Tony already had them pegged in his mind: Darrow is the leader; Urban the nasty fighter; Moyers the most timid one (maybe a recruit). What does that make Jasinski, behind bars? If he really is connected to these three, that is.

When Tony was brought back to the dining room, he was made to sit down again next to Tim, and the captors then left the room.

Tony's head still hurt from where he'd been clocked by the Glock earlier. A bottle of Coke was there for each of them, though Tim hadn't touched his. Tony noticed Tim looked pale. "Sorry about that, Probie," Tony whispered. "You okay?"

"I dunno," Tim whispered back. "I feel…sick. Like maybe they did some real damage." He swallowed, and looked down at his feet. "We've got to get out of here, Tony."

"We don't even know where here is."

"We're still in Virginia. We didn't drive long enough to get out of the state."

"But we don't know where in Virginia we are. We can't summon help. Even if we got loose, it's bitter cold outside. And snowing. What could we do?"

"We could wait here until they beat us to death," Tim said without humor. "Although it's warm in here. I'll give it that."

"But you probably want a Diet Coke instead of regular Coke."

"Yeah." Tim smiled a little.

"Moyers. Does that ring any bells?"

Tim sighed. "I'm not a computer, Tony. I've been thinking, but…wait. There was a Moyers, I think, involved in a…nah; that was a different name. I don't remember a Moyers. Were you able to scope out the place while you were up?"

"A bit. There's a window in the bathroom. I don't know if it's sealed for the winter, but that might be one way out."

"Consider it, Tony."

"Oh, no no no. Gibbs would break my neck if I went off without you."

Tim's eyes closed. "I don't think I could…escape very far in my condition. Be realistic, Tony. If you get a chance—go for it."

"Not even going to entertain that wild notion. We stick together. End of sentence."

# # #

When the tow service brought in the burned-out NCIS car, Abby was ready for it. Even the chilly air sweeping in as the garage door opened didn't dampen her resolve. For one fleeting moment, though, she worried about finding human remains in the wreckage—but no; Gibbs would have noticed them if there were any. The fire would not have been hot enough to completely consume a body. She would find other clues in there. She had to.

Clad now in red NCIS-issue coveralls, she waited off to one side while the tow truck lowered the sad hulk of the burned car to the garage floor. Jimmy, wearing identical coveralls, came over to stand beside her. "Just tell me what I can do to help, Abby."

She smiled sadly. "Let's start with the trunk. See if you can pop it open."

He did so, though not without a lot of effort and a crowbar. Nothing stood out. Abby took scrapings of the soot and they talked as they worked.

"A shame about your flight," Jimmy said, moving on to take scrapings from the front seats.

"First time I've missed Christmas with the family since…well, let's see. I was in grad school and a friend talked me into spending Christmas at a ski lodge in Vermont. You know the movie White Christmas?"

"Yeah. That must have been cool."

She made a face. "Well, just like in the movie, it was nearly 70 degrees. No snow. And I missed my family. It was a bad decision. Live and learn. But how about you, Jimmy? Shouldn't you be heading for your mother's house right about now?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "No, I'm staying here for Christmas this year. Something different."

"Oh. I suppose it would be. Um, well, listen; I'm here in Washington unexpectedly; I don't know if you have plans for Christmas…"

"Plans? Of course I have plans. Why would I still be here if I didn't have plans…?" Then his shoulders drooped. "I have no plans. I'm all alone. My mother was talked into going on a cruise to the Bahamas with a couple of girlfriends. She planned this months ago. Asked me if I'd mind; even invited me to come along. That would have been strange. At the time, I didn't think I'd mind it. But now that Christmas is here, and I'm alone…"

Abby was so stunned that the evidence bag fell from her hands. "No one should be alone for Christmas."

"Yeah. But don't feel sorry for me," he added hastily. "I'll be okay. I don't want pity. I can work and keep busy."

"I wasn't going to give you pity," Abby said, lying. "I just meant that, well, I was thinking that, because he'd be doing that bachelor thing, I'd invite Tony over for dinner and…" Realizing with horror what she'd just said, she dropped to her knees with her hand over her mouth. "Tony! Tim!"

"It's okay. Don't worry, Abby," Jimmy said, crouching beside her, with a hand on her shoulder. "We're going to find them."