A/N: Just a warning that there's some slightly graphic descriptions of torture in this chapter.
A word about the timeline. This is set during season 6, but before the, uh, ugliness. Which means that Jenny shouldn't be alive. But she is, because I need a Director who Tony is more emotionally connected to. Cheating, I know. Sorry. [bows head in shame]
Another big thank you for reviews. It's lovely to know that people are into this story.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Tony didn't get a chance to make another ninja flu excuse. In fact, he barely had the chance to make it to his desk on Friday morning when Jenny appeared on the stairs above him.

"Gibbs, I need to see your team in my office," she said, her tone ominous. "Now."

Tony swallowed and tried to slip on his poker face, undetected. This was it. Ziva's secret mission was coming into the light, and Tony was about to get burned. He steeled himself before following Gibbs and McGee up the stairs, and they all fell in line behind Jenny as they headed to her office.

Jenny took a seat at the head of the small conference table, where several thick files were waiting for her. "Sit," she told them.

Tony closed the door and took the seat closest to it. He clasped his hands together under the table, dreading what was about to happen. He'd known from the second Ziva showed up at his door that it was going to be bad. But if Jenny's face was anything to go by, it was going to be worse than he'd thought.

Jenny looked at them all in turn, lingering on Tony, before she spoke. "I've just had a conference call with the CIA and Homeland Security regarding a prisoner who escaped from jail in Turkey last week. It is believed he may have illegally entered the US sometime in the last three days using a fake passport, and that he is currently in the DC area." She paused to take a photo out of one of the files, and held it up briefly before sliding it onto the table between them. "His name is Zeki Yasar, but he has a list of aliases as long as my arm."

Tony stole a look at the photo of a dark-eyed, clean-shaven man in his 20s. His dark hair was short and neat, and his white shirt was pressed and clean. He looked like he belonged on Wall Street.

"What was he in prison for?" Gibbs asked.

Again, Jenny's eyes lingered on Tony for just a moment longer than the others. There was a look in her eye he couldn't quite read, but it made his stomach clench.

"Murder," Jenny said. "And torture. Rape. Kidnapping. He attacked or killed twelve women in Turkey over a three-year period from 2000."

"Why do our friends in the CIA think he's in the US?" Gibbs asked.

Jenny continued to fix her gaze on Tony, and this time it got Gibbs attention. He looked between the two of them, and Tony put all his faith in his poker face standing up to the scrutiny.

"Yasar's cellmate informed authorities that he was obsessed with tracking down the people who captured him," Jenny said. She pulled out a report from the folder and placed it on the table next to Yasar's photo. "He was brought down, purely by coincidence, by a Mossad team targeting a terrorist splinter group in the area."

"Ziva," Gibbs said.

Jenny nodded. "According to this report, she was the first one through to door when they stormed his home, acting on bad intel. He had his twelfth victim hanging from the ceiling at the time. She died three hours later."

In his peripheral vision, Tony saw McGee turn his head to look at him. Tony kept his eyes on the director.

"How did he know Ziva had moved to the US?" McGee asked.

"He could have found out in any number of ways," Gibbs said. "Her liaison position isn't classified."

"I understand Ziva has not been at work for the last few days?" Jenny asked. She looked to Gibbs for confirmation, and Gibbs looked to Tony. It took a fraction of a moment for Tony to recognise the suspicion in Gibbs' eyes.

"You think he already got her?" McGee asked, the only agitated voice in a room full of people exercising control.

Gibbs didn't take his eyes off Tony. "Well, she's been calling Tony every morning to say she's sick, so she's probably fine. Right, DiNozzo?"

He knew Gibbs was challenging him, but it would take more than a Gibbs Stare to break him. He stepped into the spotlight. "Right, boss. That's what she told me."

"Well that's where we have a problem," Jenny said. "The CIA sent agents to her apartment this morning to take her into protective custody. She's not there, but her car is in the lot. Neighbour says he hasn't heard or seen her since Tuesday night."

"Wallet? Gun? Badge?" Gibbs asked.

"All missing," Jenny said.

Gibbs pulled out his cell and put it on speakerphone while he speed dialled Ziva. An automated voice came back at them almost immediately. Sorry. The cellular phone you are calling is switched off. Please try again later.

A stormy look crossed Gibbs' face. "Never be unreachable," he grumbled. "David knows better."

"Your team is familiar with your rules, Agent Gibbs," Jenny said, then looked to Tony. "Did Ziva call in sick again this morning?"

Tony shook his head. No point in lying about that. "No. I haven't heard from her since yesterday."

"Did she sound like she was being coerced?" Jenny asked.

He shook his head again, and geared up for some real lying. "No, she sounded fine. And she didn't use the duress word."

Gibbs and Jenny shared a look, before she asked, "What investigation are you two on that requires a duress word?" She fixed Gibbs with a glare that promised pain and suffering if he was running secret operations without her say so. But Gibbs shook his head, and they turned to Tony, awaiting a reply.

"None," Tony said. "But we have our own." They continued to stare at him, and Tony went on the defensive. "What, you two never agreed on a word? It's just good partner practice. I even have one with McGee."

McGee looked lost. "You do?"

"Yes, it's McGee, I'm under duress right now. Come help me out. I guess it's more of a sentence."

"You don't seem particularly concerned that a murderer is after your partner, DiNozzo," Gibbs cut in. "Know something we don't?"

Tony turned the poker face to him. "No, I think everyone in this room knows how much damage Ziva can inflict with just her pinky finger."

He held Gibbs' gaze, and could practically pinpoint the moment when Gibbs had his strategy for dealing with the situation worked out. Nine years really was a long time to work with a person. He predicted that Gibbs would take one of two roads: 1) Ask for specific and graphic descriptions of what Yasar had done to his victims, hoping it would scare Tony into giving up the information, or 2) Pretend to place all his faith and judgement in Tony's ability to find her, thereby guilting Tony into giving up the information.

Gibbs turned back to Jenny. "What about these women he killed? What did he do to them?"

Option one, then.

Jenny opened the other folder and pulled out a thick stack of crime scene photos. "His last victim, the woman Ziva found him with, was hanging from the ceiling by her arms. She'd been missing three days, and the autopsy suggested that she'd spend most of that time being tortured. He'd slit her throat, and had raped her repeatedly."

Gibbs spread the photos out, making sure they were turned right side up for Tony. He did not particularly want to look at the gruesome scenes and headless bodies, but he was an investigator who had worked dozens of homicides and learned long ago how to separate himself from the horrors he witnessed. He looked down at them with the well-practiced expression of a cop focused on a puzzle

"That was his MO," Jenny went on. "Except that he sliced the skin off the faces of all his other victims. He didn't get a chance with his last."

"How did he find them?" McGee asked. It was a question that Tony would usually have asked, but right now Tony was keeping quiet. He knew Gibbs would analyse every word he chose to use, and the inflection in his delivery.

"He took them on dates," Jenny started. "He would watch a woman for several days, learning her habits, before staging a meeting. He would often bump into a woman while she was alone and spill her drink, then offer to buy her a new one. He'd rely on his looks and charm to put her at ease, tell her he was a cop to make her feel even safer. Talk her into having lunch with him, and then, when he sensed she was relaxed with him, he would suggest that they go for a walk. He would lead her to his car, parked well away from the crowds, and then incapacitate her."

Tony felt sick. He had no doubt that the ploy worked. He'd used it himself dozens of times to get women into bed. The staged meeting, the charming smile and conversation, the casually dropped reference to being a trustworthy federal agent, the walk after dinner. Nine times out of ten, it worked. If you chose the right woman, it really was that easy.

And suddenly, it really was that disgusting.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked.

Tony lifted his eyes from the table to meet his mentor's suspicious blue eyes.

"Going to display any interest in this any time soon?"

He kept his calm expression in place, but answered honestly. "Sorry. Busy hating men for a moment there." He cleared his throat and looked to Jenny's far more sympathetic eyes. "Is there any evidence to suggest that he knows where Ziva lives? Or where she shops, runs, buys the paper? What she drives? Anything like that?" He really did want to know.

"No," Jenny replied. "But until we find Yasar or Ziva I want to act on the assumption that he could find that information with average computer skills and a day spent following her."

Tony nodded. "So what's the split? CIA look for Yasar, we look for Ziva?"

Jenny nodded. "We're to share all information." She looked to Gibbs. "All information."

Gibbs held her gaze—he didn't trust the CIA as far as he could throw them—but he nodded his assent. "McGee, get down to Abby's lab and start a trace of Ziva's phone."

"Yes, boss," McGee said, and stood.

Tony started to rise also, but Gibbs said, "Not you. You stay."

He used those precious seconds it took for McGee to leave the room in order to get his story straight in his head, then looked at Gibbs expectantly.

"What do you know?" Gibbs asked after McGee had closed the door. His voice was unnervingly calm, and Tony matched it.

"About this? Nothing."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes and sized him up. Two years ago, Tony may have cracked. But he'd done a lot of growing up since then, a lot of soul searching and evaluation of priorities. It was fair to say that Gibbs would always remain his father figure, but Tony found that these days he wasn't as desperate for approval as he'd once been. He was not focused on being the golden child. Instead, he was focused on making his own rules, even if the one he was relying on now came direct from the Master: Never screw over your partner.

Gibbs leaned forward, his expression darkening. "I'm not losing another agent to another psychopath," he said warningly. "So if you know where she is, you better damn well tell me."

Tony wouldn't have been able to hide the look of hurt that settled on his face even if he'd tried. Did Gibbs think Kate's death was somehow his fault? How could he possibly—

"Agent Gibbs," Jenny cut in, her voice hard. "That will be all."

Gibbs held Tony's wounded gaze for a full five seconds before gathering up the crime scene photos and carrying both folders out of the room. The slam of the door was expected, and Tony did not jump.

He looked to Jenny with hurt, disbelieving eyes. "He blames me for Kate?"

Jenny shook her head firmly. "No, Tony. Of course not. He's scared."

"Gibbs doesn't get scared."

"He does when one of you is in danger," Jenny countered. "When you got sick, when Abby was almost killed, he got scared. And when that happens he doesn't always think through what he says."

He wasn't sure if he bought it, but Jenny wasn't giving him time to make up his mind.

"Why does he seem to think you know where Ziva is?" she asked gently.

Tony sighed and rubbed his stinging eyes. "I honestly couldn't tell you."

There was a beat of silence where Tony could feel her studying him. "Ah," she finally said. "Because you do know where she is."

Tony cursed Gibbs' gut. "I don't."

Jenny got up, only to move to the seat next to him. She leaned towards him, putting herself in a position that Tony could not realistically continue to ignore. He had to look at her.

"Tony," she began, using that tone she did when she was working for someone's trust. "I know you think you're helping her—"

"I don't know where she is," Tony repeated, cutting her off. "And even if I did, I wouldn't give her up. Not to you, not to Gibbs, not to anyone. So stop asking."

Jenny leaned back again. Clearly, she didn't believe him. But she understood that she was hitting a Tony-shaped brick wall. She tried a different approach. "Okay, then let me hear your thoughts. Do you think it's possible that Ziva may have known that Yasar was in the country?"

"How would she know that?" he asked, tiredly.

"She has an extensive network of contacts," Jenny said.

Tony quickly assessed the situation. Jenny was going to keep squeezing him for information until she was satisfied. She would also keep the team looking for Ziva unless she had a good reason to tell them not to. And honestly, Tony couldn't spend the next few days pretending to look for her. He had to give her something.

"It's possible that one of them contacted her with information," he finally replied.

"At which point, Ziva would have done what?"

He answered her honestly. "One of three things. Inform you, Gibbs and Mossad of the situation. Find him before he found her and then go full tilt ninja on his ass. Or fall off the face of the earth until she's convinced the threat has passed. If that's what she's decided to do, you won't find her." He leaned in to look at her pointedly. "And given Ziva's hardcore military training, my feeling is that you wouldn't have to worry about her staying safe."

Jenny regarded him for a few moments, and finally nodded. "Alright, Tony. I'm going to trust that the two of you know what you're doing, and call off Gibbs' search."

Finally off the hook, Tony forced a charming smile to his face. "If we were doing anything right now that required your trust, I'd be flattered."

So…how'd that sit with people? It occurs to me that I generally paints Gibbs as a bit of a bastard (extra B and all), but I do love it so when Gibbs and Tony are fighting.
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