Dick made Joe and Tony walk in front of him, shouting out directions to guide them in the way he wanted them to go. He stayed far enough back that they couldn't lunge at him and this meant that his prisoners could conduct a quiet conversation.
"Do you really not carry the keys to your cuffs?" asked Joe.
"You think I was lying?" asked Tony in mock hurt. For answer, Joe simply grinned. "No, I've got them. Say something with enough confidence and people go along," in a louder voice he said, "You OK, Joe? The going's a bit rough?"
"I'm fine," said Joe, "But I need to use the facilities," he called back to Dick.
Tony hid his surprise. He wasn't surprised that Joe needed to use the facilities, but he was surprised at the plaintive note in Joe's voice: he had never heard him whine before.
"Hah! Don't know if you've noticed or not, old man, but we don't have any facilities," said Dick.
"I'll go behind a rock," said Joe placidly, "There's one there." Without waiting for answer, he tugged Tony towards the rock in question.
Tony hoped that Joe would be able to manage with just one hand; he didn't like to think where his chained left hand might be going. To distract himself, he spoke to Dick,
"So, Ricky-Dicky," he began.
"What?" asked Dick.
Joe wasn't concentrating as fully as Tony would have preferred and he piped up, "Oh, Tony loves to give people nicknames. Just ask his co-workers, they'd tell you."
"Don't think Tricky-Dicky here wants to meet my co-workers," said Tony.
"Don't call me Tricky-Dicky," said Dick in an annoyed voice.
"OK, how about Ricardo? Ricky? Dicky?" asked Tony agreeably.
"You don't have to call me anything," snapped Dick.
"Fair enough. So, Mr Nobody, how come you weren't around to stop the house being cleared when your grandmother died?" asked Tony.
"None of your business!"
"Well, it kinda feels my business since you've kidnapped my friend and I," said Tony reasonably. "You know, you've put a crimp in our plans. We've been planning it for weeks. You left some disappointed people back in the bus."
"Do I look as if I care? Hey, old man, get a move on, will you?"
"Just finished," said Joe.
"'Bout time, come on, move it!"
"Actually," said Tony, "I need to go now. It's one of those things, someone goes … or I hear running water and it makes me want to go? Do you get that too, or is it just me?" Won't be long. But perhaps you'd like to whistle, I sometimes find that gets me in the mood … or make a sound like running water?"
Dick glared at Tony in pure dislike and watched him take his turn in going behind the rock where he made a few faces indicative of his difficulties in managing his business with just one hand.
"All done," he finally said cheerfully. "Come on, it's coming on to rain."
They walked in relative silence for a few minutes and then Dick shouted to them to start climbing the slope in front of them. Tony stopped and turned in disbelief, "What?"
"You heard me. We're going to climb up here and cut across," replied Dick.
"Look, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi …"
"What?" asked Dick.
"I just thought of that one," said Tony. "You know, from the Jungle Book stories? Rudyard Kipling? Didn't your Mom used to read them to you? Rikki-Tikki-Tavi was a mongoose …"
"Move it!" ordered Dick, "Before I shoot you, cut your arm off and leave you here to rot!"
"That's not nice! Not when I've been thinking of names for you," said Tony sadly, "But, you know, I know this part of the world quite well. For some reason, sailors keep ending up dead here …"
"You'll be joining them too," said Dick threateningly if you don't shut up and do as you're told!"
"All right, all right," said Tony calmly, "But like I say, I know my way around here. It might look shorter to climb up here and cut across, but it will take longer than staying down here and walking around. Look, Joe's not as young as he was … and I'm pretty much a pen pusher these days, don't get out much in the field. Don't think him and me are going to be much good at climbing over these rocks. And, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like an outdoors person to me. You're very pale, you know."
Joe sagged in a weary manner and breathed a little harder. Dick looked sharply at both of them and then at the slope before them and felt a little daunted at the prospect of scaling the heights.
"All right," he conceded, "But no funny business!" He drew his cell out of his pocked and waved it around, "I've got an app. It gives me directions. I'll know if you take us out of the way."
"Wouldn't dream of it," insisted Tony, "I'm all for a quiet life. Just want to get to your car and drive back to DC."
"Huh," said Dick sceptically, "Then why'd you cuff yourself to the old guy?"
"Got me there," agreed Tony, "I have impulse issues. Act before I think. One of the reasons they keep me behind a desk these days. I'm a liability out in the field."
"Move it, then," ordered Dick.
"Oops," said Joe, "I need to go again. I think standing still brings it on."
"You only just went," said Dick.
"I know, it's my age," sighed Joe, "The doctor keeps telling me I need my prostate seen to. But you know how it is … never seems a good time. He says it's a simple procedure. Says he'll just go in …"
"I don't want to hear about your prostrate," said Dick.
"Prostate," corrected Tony. "Prostate. Easy mistake to make."
"That's right," said Joe earnestly, "And you youngsters should take it seriously, you know. This happens to lots of men, you need to be careful."
"Hey," shouted Dick, "Get on with it will you! Haven't got all day!"
Joe obligingly ducked behind a convenient rock and Tony followed reluctantly.
Dick sighed unhappily and tried glaring Tony and Joe into submission, but he thought that making Joe nervous might make Joe's waterworks even less stable. Finally, Tony and Joe were ready, and they began to walk the gentler route suggested by Tony.
A few minutes later they heard Dick swear and, looking back, they say that he was sitting on the ground pulling off his shoe,
"Damned stone," he cursed.
"If you'd asked me," said Joe helpfully, "I would have suggested a stronger shoe: there are some very good ones on the market. You know, smartness combined with practicality. I would say …"
"I didn't ask you," said Dick.
"That's true," said Joe, "And to be honest, if you had asked me …" Tony gripped Joe's hand,
"Don't think our friend is interested," he said softly.
Joe was about to reply but noticed an odd look on Tony's face as he looked at Dick. Tony's face seemed to clear of its previous worry, and he nodded to himself slightly.
"You OK, Dick?" asked Tony.
"What?" said Dick suspiciously.
"Just trying to be nice," said Tony innocently.
"Huh?"
"Well, like you've been telling us. You're holding all the cards; might as well try and get along."
"And it's taken all this time for you to work that out?"
"What can I say?" said Tony self-deprecatingly, "I'm not the brightest Federal Agent around. My Director is just waiting for a chance to get rid of me. Guess he has a point," he added sadly.
"Yeah, I think so too," said Dick sourly.
"And it's coming on to rain. I'm cold. I just want this to be over," said Tony.
Dick pulled his shoe back on and jumped up, "No arguments here. Let's go."
"Joe," said Tony, "I heard something on the TV the other day. Said that prostate problems can be solved by crossing the fingers on your left hand."
"What?"
"Don't ask me how it works. Some sort of acupuncture thing," said Tony earnestly.
"And you think that will work?" asked Joe doubtfully.
"Worth a try isn't it? If it means you don't have to keep stopping." Tony gazed at Joe for a long moment and then Joe nodded,
"OK. I'll give it a go!"
Tony grinned. Somehow, he thought everything was going to be all right.
NCISNCIS
"What are you doing, dear?" Martha asked Ellie back at the bus.
"She's taking finger prints," said Douglas who was regaining his composure.
Ellie smiled and Douglas blushed; he wasn't used to young women taking notice of him.
"That's right," she said, "I'm going to take some pictures and I'll send them to Abby. She's our …"
"We know about Abby," said Seya, "We haven't met her yet but Tony talks about her a great deal. We're looking forward to the encounter. Although," she paused to consider, "I'm not sure what Martha will find to knit for a Goth."
"She likes pink … and glitter …" said Ellie helpfully, "And skulls and bats."
"Hmm," said Martha, clearly warming to the challenge of knitting something other than blue and yellow football scarves, "You know some of my Fair isle patterns could look like tiny skulls. I'll have to think about that."
It wasn't long before Ellie had shots of the fingerprints she had lifted from the steering wheel wending their way to Abby.
"You don't think he's coming back, do you?" asked Julia.
"No," said Ellie, "And don't worry. I'm armed." The others did not look as reassured as she had intended; it seemed they wouldn't look forward to a gun battle. "And," she hurried on, "Abby's arranging for someone from the bus company to come and collect you and take you back to DC."
"Oh," said Martha, "Oh, I suppose we'll just have to try again another weekend. You know, when we have Tony and Joe back."
Ellie nodded, and hoped the optimism was not misplaced. Before she could say anything, her phone rang to indicate a call from Abby,
"Bishop, I can't get through to Gibbs," she said by way of introduction.
"I'll try," said Bishop, "I might get through better from here. And they took a satellite phone. What have you found out?"
"Your bad guy is a very, very bad guy," said Abby.
Ellie smiled weakly and moved away from the eager ears of the remaining bus people, "Go on," she said.
"Richard Conatelli, usually known as Dick."
"Not Macaluso?""
"No but that doesn't mean he's a very bad person. He's just come out of prison after serving a five-year sentence for robbery, assault and general violent nastiness. And I know that's not an actual thing, but it should be."
"Anything else?"
"To be fair, and I don't really want to be but I'm a scientist so I should be balanced … and the nuns say it's important to look for the good in people … um, where was I?"
"Being fair?" suggested Ellie.
"That's right. I was being fair. Well, Richard Conatelli comes from a long line of violent nasty people so perhaps it's not really his fault. It might be in his genes or in his upbringing, but I still think he could have fought against it."
"Abby? What do you mean he comes from a long line of bad people?"
"Very, very bad people," asserted Abby, "Not Mafia or anything like that, which I suppose might be something in their favour. But still, very bad things. Richard's father was something like the white sheep of his family, I mean he was still bad but just not so successfully. He spent lots of time in prison, but it was mostly for low level crime and he kept on getting caught. So, Richard spent a lot of time with his grandfather, Miguel Conatelli and he …"
"Was a bad person," prompted Bishop.
"Yes, he was. And more successful … or anyway, not caught so much. But he was sent to prison in the end and he died there – a year ago. And his grandmother died a few days ago. Richard was due to be released from prison and they let him out a few days early so he could attend the funeral. Huh!"
"Huh what?" asked Ellie, surprised by the disgust in Abby's voice.
"Huh! He didn't go. Seems he went to see his old villainous friends and showed up a day or two later. I mean, who doesn't go to his own grandmother's funeral?"
"Very, very bad people," said Ellie, "Why do you think he's gone after Tony? Any connection between them?"
"Nothing that I can see. And no ties to Joe either. Anyway," said Abby, "Once I had a name, I thought it would be good to see if he'd got any transport. You know, got a car since he got out of jail."
"And has he?"
"I don't think he's bought one … although I guess he might have stolen one," said Abby bitterly, "But I sent his photo to car hire places near where he lives to see if he's rented anything. And one came back positive – they think they've rented him a car and were dropping it off today. The manager's calling me back with a location."
"Great work, Abby … ooh, what was that?" Ellie had heard one of Abby's computers give a chirp.
"Hah!" said Abby but this was a happier sound than before, "Our friend was released on parole. He's wearing an ankle tracker! Give me a few minutes and I'll find out exactly where he is!"
"I'll call Gibbs," said Ellie, "Call me when you have the details."
NCISNCIS
"Keep your eyes peeled, McGee," ordered Gibbs as they headed down the track, "We need to spot where they turned off."
McGee nodded although he didn't expect that he would beat Gibbs' expertise in tracking,
"Why do you think the guy took Joe and Tony?" he asked.
"No idea," said Gibbs, "Don't see why Macaluso would need Joe as well as Tony. Unless he thinks Joe would guarantee Tony's good behaviour?"
"Tony wouldn't do anything to endanger Joe," agreed McGee, "What is it, Boss?" Gibbs had dived off to one side.
"Think they went off this way," announced Gibbs.
"You don't think they're trying to go over the rise, do you?" asked McGee, "That's crazy!"
"Since when were our bad guys known for their common-sense?"
"Good point, Boss." In fact, Tim suspected that many of their bad guys would be much more successful if they did have common-sense.
Gibbs continued to hurry down the path like some sort of eager bloodhound although McGee decided not to point out any similarity. It wasn't long before Gibbs stopped again.
"Think they stopped here for a while."
McGee decided not to question how Gibbs knew this although he thought once again that he must really get the Boss to come talk to his Webelos.
"Why?" asked McGee.
Gibbs shrugged, "Joe's elderly. Might need a rest. Have a look around."
McGee had his own lightbulb moment, "Or a call of … well, you know … he might have had to … well, relieve himself." McGee went around the back of the rock where Joe had indeed attended to his needs, "Boss! You were right! They were here."
Gibbs hurried to join Tim and delivered a half-hearted accusatory glare at the suggestion that Tim had doubted him, "Look!" said Tim.
Gibbs looked at a T and an arrow scratched into the rock and pointing in the direction Tony and Joe and gone.
"Good work, DiNozzo," said Gibbs. He felt McGee's plaintive gaze and sighed, "And good work, Tim for spotting it."
Gibbs and McGee continued on the way for a few minutes and then the satellite phone rang,
"Gibbs. What you got, Bishop?"
"The name of the guy who hijacked the bus is Richard Conatelli."
"Not Macaluso?"
"Seems not. Abby says he's got a record of violence and comes from a long line of violent people."
"Any connection with DiNozzo?"
"Nothing that she could find. She's still working on it."
"Anything else?"
"Abby's got a location for a car he hired. Arranged for it to be left along Skyline Drive. I can send you the exact co-ordinates. It's there now. Guess he needed a getaway car for when he abandoned the bus."
"Guess he's headed there now," said Gibbs, "Looks like he's trying a direct route. Not going to be easy going."
"And Gibbs," continued Bishop, "He's only just got out of prison. That means …"
"He's got a monitor of some sort on him," finished Gibbs. "Get me …"
"Abby's working on it," said Ellie.
"Good. And get …"
"Park police and local police are on their way to the car. They'll stake it out carefully."
Gibbs ended the call without further conversation.
"Come on, McGee. Let's keep going. Won't be much longer before we know exactly where this guy is. And then we'll find out what's going on."
NCISNCIS
The rain was coming down hard by the time Joe, Dick and Tony had walked another two miles. Joe had taken the hint and not asked for any more comfort stops but he was walking slowly and was clearly tired.
"Road should be the other side of that ridge," said Tony, "Be easier to keep going around though."
"No, we'll go over," said Dick, "I want to get to the car before dark."
Tony thought about protesting but he could see that Dick was getting impatient with the slow progress and was himself cold from the rain. Besides, Tony told himself, this would soon all be over. Everything was going to be fine …
