A/N: Here is chapter four, submitted before the end of the night, as promised. I'm working on the next chapter and hopefully will be able to post it next week sometime.

I am not a computer geek, so any information I have used for that part of the story has come from doing a web search on certain terms. I am unsure if any if the computer scenes will really make sense, so I ask your indulgence as you read through those parts. Hopefully, any mistakes will not detract from the overall story. For everyone waiting for the hurt part of the hurt/comfort to begin, this is your chapter. And I promise-it will get worse before it gets better.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS.

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Twisted Brother

Chapter Four

"Anytime Now, Would Be Good, Gibbs"

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Gibbs read the warning and slammed his fist down on the desk. "Damn it. Where did that come from? McGee, do your thing and trace it. Now!"

McGee was already frantically typing, opening a program designed to trace such emails. But even as his fingers flew over the keyboard he knew it was pointless. "I'm trying Boss." Before long he shook his head in frustration and defeat. "Boss, the IPS address is part of a large ISPS group, and it's embedded deeply inside too many programs. It's also been rerouted too often for me to follow it. I can put a tracer on it, but it'll take time, and there's no guarantee I'll get back to the original sender."

It was at that moment Director Vance wondered into the bullpen area. "Something I should know about Gibbs?" his deep voice sounded impatient. He leaned over McGee's shoulder, first reading the email that was still open in one window. As he watched McGee's efforts to trace it, he made a suggestion. McGee's eyes widened and he immediately closed the program he'd been using, and brought up the one Vance had proposed. It grew quiet, with no sound except the ones made by McGee's flying fingers. For a moment, it seemed as if they were getting close, then the lines of computer script that had been flowing across the screen abruptly stopped.

"No, no, no, no!" McGee's voice rose in pitch with every word. "I've been hacked boss." And as they watched, the screen Tim had been working on suddenly went black. Nothing remained except the message, still flashing its threatening words.

"What does this mean, McGee?" Ziva asked. "You cannot trace it now? I thought you were able to find anything on your computer."

"What it means, Ziva," Tony couldn't quite keep the glee from his voice, "Is that I'm not the one in need of a babysitter anymore!"

Gibbs whacked his senior agent on the back of his head, but nodded. "You're obnoxious, DiNozzo but this time you're right. Agent Mallory, you and Ziva will switch your protective detail and will keep McGee under observation at all times. You'll be moving to a new safe house." He turned and found Bryce Mallory standing just behind all of them. "Mallory, make the arrangements. McGee, have you talked to your sister lately?"

McGee tiredly nodded. "Yeah, boss. I talked to her last night and she's ok. But she did say she felt like someone was watching her. I wanted to go get her, but she refused."

Gibbs considered for a moment. "Get her on the phone." Tim dialed her number and was glad when Sarah took the call. He'd been afraid she might avoid him. Gibbs took the phone almost as soon as she answered. He explained in no uncertain terms that both she and McGee were now considered targets and that she was to stay put until a police officer arrived to escort her to NCIS. Being Gibbs, he would not take no for an answer.

Mallory made a few phone calls, and huddled with Ziva, making arrangements to protect both Tim and Sarah McGee. He quietly and efficiently reported the location of the new safe house to Gibbs, then suggested that perhaps he and Ziva could take Tim on out, and have either Tony or Gibbs bring Sarah in when she arrived. Gibbs nodded, and indicated by a tilt of his head that Tony should take on that duty.

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A few hours later, Tony was awakened by a tap on his shoulder. His head shot up, from where it had been resting on his folded arms, which were on top of the files still on his desk. "What? Who?" he was momentarily disoriented. "It's just me, DiNozzo," Sarah McGee smiled down at him. "Gibbs tells me you're my escort out to the safe house."

Tony stood up and stretched, still trying to shake the sleep out of his eyes. A huge yawn muffled his response, and he grew slightly embarrassed as Sarah laughed out loud, then using a Kleenex snagged from the corner of Ziva's desk, wiped at the tiny bit of drool evident in the corner of his mouth. "I don't know, Tony if I want to be seen with you or not. You look pretty scruffy."

Gibbs chose that moment to come bounding down the stairs, from where he had been updating the director. "He usually looks scruffy this time of day, Sarah." He gave her a quick hug followed by his close scrutiny. "Anything more come to mind since we talked?" Sarah scrunched her face up, thinking hard. "Not really; I thought it was just my imagination that someone was following me, but maybe not. I'll let Tim know if I think of anything else. Can I stay out at the house tomorrow? I've got a lot of studying to do."

Gibbs and Tony both shook their heads. "Nope, safe houses aren't safe if you're there alone. You can study here; I'll find you a nice quiet interrogation room where we can study you while you're studying without you seeing us." Tony waggled his eyebrows up and down in a leer, as he slung his arm around Sarah's shoulder and walked her out. "Night boss. See you in the morning."

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After dropping Sarah off, touching base with Tim, Ziva and Mallory, and checking the property around the safe house himself, just to make sure all was secure, Tony headed for home. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a shower and a pizza, followed by his bed, in that order. He called ahead, ordering his favorite pizza, and deciding he could get the shower in before it arrived; he drove a little faster than the law allowed, screeching into his parking place and then racing up the stairs to his first floor apartment.

Tony checked around, as was his habit and finding nothing out of place, he took his weapon off, and put it and his handcuffs in the drawer in the desk by the front door. Dropping his cell phone, wallet and keys on top of the desk, he went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and took a few sips while going through two days worth of mail, then hit the shower. Dressed in his favorite sweats, slippers and a soft, black t-shirt, he was toweling his hair dry when the doorbell rang. He could smell the pizza from across the living room. Dropping the towel, he grabbed his wallet, fished out a $20 bill and opened the door, a huge smile on his handsome face.

The smile changed into one of total shock as he was faced with two armed pizza delivery men. "Hey fella's," he quipped, "Don't shoot; I've got your money. And your tip's right here." Tony kept his eyes on the two men as he reached behind him, as if to grab the wallet still lying on top of the desk.

A number of things happened simultaneously. He heard the sound of a pop, and recognized a silencer. He lunged for his own gun, just out of reach in the drawer slightly behind him and to his right, and he felt his left leg give way as the bullet slammed into his thigh. As he fell, he frantically tried to come up with his weapon, but his fingertips just grazed the drawer and his yank simply caused the desk to topple over, adding to the confusion.

The second gunman, the one who hadn't fired, dropped the pizza box, and kicked the door shut behind him. He quickly knelt on Tony's back, pinning him to the floor. "Nice shooting, Adam," he nodded at the first man. "Now get his gun and give me his handcuffs.

Tony struggled, but realized it was pointless when the man leaned harder on his back, then with Adam's help, pulled his arms behind him and cuffed him. Only then did the pressure on his back ease. Tony was yanked upward by his arms and hauled back to sit on his butt. He stifled a yell as pain shot through his leg.

The man who had held him down stepped away, leaving Adam holding onto him. He leaned down and grabbed the damp towel Tony had been using. Folding it, he placed it over the wound in Tony's leg. Pressing down, he applied pressure, apparently not willing for Tony to bleed out in front of him. "Nice to meet you DiNozzo," he smiled a sickening smile, as he continued to staunch the blood flow. He appeared to be a few inches shorter than Tony, and had blond hair and blue eyes. And he was incredibly good looking. That incongruous thought ran through Tony's mind as he fought to figure out what had just happened. "Since we're going to be spending a lot of time together, you might as well know who I am. I'm Blake, Blake Mehi." Tony started at the man for a moment, nonplussed by the introduction. He figured it did not bode well for his survival if these two clowns weren't bothering to hide their identity. Tony's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, forgive me if I don't shake your hand. Not that I'm not delighted to meet you. Now what the hell do you want?"

Blake laughed out loud. "This is going to be more fun that I thought, DiNozzo. But we're wasting time, so I'll fill you in later." He got up, leaving the wet compress in place. Disappearing into the bedroom, he returned, this time with on one of Tony's good Gucci shirts in his hands. He moved over in front of him, and slowly ripped the shirt into several strips of cloth. He ignored Tony's indignant remark about the shirt costing more than he'd ever see in a month's worth of pay, and efficiently wrapped the strips around his leg, securing the towel in place.

Standing, with a nod to Adam, who still held onto Tony's arms, he quickly tucked Tony's gun into his pants pocket, then retrieved the gun Adam held out. Pointing it at Tony, he added, "Now be a good boy and keep quiet. I don't mind shooting you again, but would rather not have to carry you."

Tony felt himself being hauled to his feet and bit back another grunt of pain. Going to the hall closet, Blake rummaged through it and found a coat long enough that it hid the makeshift bandage. He put the coat around Tony's shoulders; then both men moved to either side of him. "Now DiNozzo, You're not gonna cause me any trouble, are you?" And he punctuated his words by pressing the gun into his side. "We're going outside, and get you into our car. If anyone questions you, act drunk. We're just a couple of buddies, helping a friend. You got that?" Another hard push with the gun made Tony decide that for now at least, cooperation was his best choice.

"Sure Blake, you're the man in charge. Whatever you say." Tony's mind finished the sentence. 'For now, until Gibbs gets a hold of you anyway.'

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Gibbs looked up from his desk as the elevator ding announced the first of the morning's arrivals. Ziva, Tim, Bryce and Sarah all got off together. They were laughing over something and he noticed how Bryce playfully punched Tim in the arm. "That's too funny; I can't believe it actually happened." He shook his head as he made eye contact with Gibbs and nodded, indicating an uneventful night.

Tim stopped at his desk and turned back toward Bryce. "It happened, but don't bother asking Tony. He's still denying it." Ziva just shook her head and offered to get Sarah McGee situated for the day. On her way out of the bullpen she stopped and looked around. "Speaking of Tony, has anyone seen him? I called him this morning to ask him to bring something in and he did not answer." A few shared looks and shakes of the head confirmed no one had heard from DiNozzo.

Gibbs glanced at the clock, and then his eyes again met Bryce's. "I wouldn't worry. He's not late yet, and he was pretty wiped out yesterday." Bryce nodded. "Yeah. He looked like a Zombie when he dropped Miss McGee off at 1930 last night. Still, if he doesn't check in soon…" his voice trailed off.

Tim also looked at the clock. For some reason his guts started churning. Tony wasn't late, but he always answered his phone. "Wait up Ziva," he called, following the Israeli out of the bullpen. "What time did you call him?" Gibbs couldn't hear the answer. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but his own guts were in an uproar. Even though he had agreed with DiNozzo that he wasn't the target, something still just didn't feel right.

The elevator dinged at that moment and both he and Bryce turned toward it, expecting to see DiNozzo's lanky frame. But instead, Abby swept into the room. "Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" she ran as fast as her platform heels would allow and threw herself into his arms. "I had a terrible dream last night. Where's Tony? I need to see him!" Gibbs slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, Abs, I think we'd all like to see him right about now."

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As soon as the door closed behind Adam, Tony gingerly stood, carefully testing his leg. Though it hurt like fire, if he was careful, he could limp on it and at least stay upright. 'What I wouldn't give to see Gibbs right about now,' he thought, as he checked the door, unsurprised to find it tightly locked. Checking his watch, glad he still wore one, even though McGee insisted they were superfluous in this day and age of cell phones and tablets, he saw it was about an hour past the time he should have showed up at the office. He wondered how long before they figured out something was wrong and checked his apartment. Though they wouldn't find much. Adam had cleaned up, setting the desk back up and straightening things that had been strewn around. A little bleach water had at least disguised the obvious blood stain on his floor and they had been careful to use gloves before touching anything in his apartment. They had left his wallet, keys and cell phone on the desk, taking only his gun.

Tony had hoped to run into someone that could at least report to Gibbs that they had seen him being "helped" out of his apartment, but no one had been in sight. The best he could hope for was that one of his nosy neighbors might have been watching from behind a curtain. The vehicle Adam had pushed Tony into had been a nondescript dark sedan. Blake had driven the speed limit and though he had been chatty, had not shared any information that had shed any light on who they were or where they were going.

After driving around for what seemed like hours, they had pulled up to a modest ranch style home with a basement, in a neighborhood Tony was unfamiliar with, though he had noted they had driven through Silver Springs and Kensington. He wasn't sure, since he wasn't as familiar with the Kensington area as some others, but he thought they'd driven in a pretty round-about manner. He had recognized Glenmont and was sure they had ended up in Laurel, but he had no idea where in Laurel they were. The garage door had opened and the car fit inside easily enough. By this time it was close to 0600 and he was beyond exhausted. He knew he'd drifted off a few times during the long night, though he had fought to stay conscious and aware.

Tony had been brought to full wakefulness however, when he was dragged from the back seat as soon as the garage door opened. This time when he'd put weight on his injured leg, he hadn't been able to completely smother his grunt of pain. Glancing down, he could see it had bled through the makeshift bandage. Blake had seen it as well and had pushed Tony into a kitchen chair, then had cleaned the wound and re-bandaged it, this time using rubbing alcohol, which stung and burned, and a gauze pad. He had wrapped it with an ace bandage and then had offered Tony some breakfast and coffee. Tony had wanted to turn down the breakfast, since he wasn't sure his stomach could handle it, but knowing he should eat, he did so without a word and accepted the coffee as well. One sip had him grimacing and shaking his head. "This is worse than Gibbs' coffee and that takes some doing." Blake had laughed, but said nothing else. Tony tried one more time to figure out what they wanted. "You'll love meeting Gibbs. In fact, we could call him right now and you could tell him what you want; since you don't seem to want to share that with me right now."

"Don't worry DiNozzo, you'll find out soon enough. And I guarantee you, you really don't want to know what's happening any sooner than you have to." Blake had stood then, and gestured for Adam to take him down the stairs. That's when he'd been shoved into a closed-in room in the basement.

After ascertaining that he could at least walk if he had to, Tony looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. A quick check revealed nothing but a single bed, with a mattress placed over a slab of plywood – no box springs, a pillow with no case and a cheap blanket. There was no closet, no window and literally nothing else in the room. He had painfully managed to ease his way down to the floor and look under the bed, as much as the poor lighting from the single bulb in the ceiling would allow, but the floor was bare. With nothing else to do, Tony decided to take whatever time he had and try to rest. Easing down on the bed, he rolled the pillow up and put it under his leg, trying to elevate it as much as possible. Not needing the blanket he lay on his back, thinking things through and trying to figure out what to do. But before long, exhaustion overruled the throbbing in his leg and his eyes closed as sleep finally claimed him. His last conscious thought was 'Anytime now, would be good, Gibbs.'

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A/N: More action to follow, as well as more hurt Tony and worried Gibbs. I hope people are enjoying this story. Would love to hear your comments.