Thanks for your comments! Special mention goes to Bob Rhynoplasty, since a simple remark she made seemed like a crazy revelation to me. I mighta sorta stole your comment...
Forgot to mention it before, but I have most certainly never been to a security conference, and am assuming that I in no way described what actually happens at one.
Hope you stick around for more of the story! It's harder for me to write the serious stuff, but I'll try to be faster with posting.
Tony tossed two fifty dollar bills at the cabbie and yanked open the door. He darted around traffic, through parked emergency vehicles and flashed his badge at a uniform manning the perimeter.
Though the sun was down, the taped-off intersection was hardly dark. Floodlights worthy of a baseball stadium sat at each corner, and the flashing red and blue lights of a half dozen cop cars skirted the edges of the large pool of artificially yellow light.
He briefly considered that a half dozen was far more squad cars than he expected to still be here, four hours after NCIS took over the scene. But that thought skittered away as he squelched the urge to slip away and be sick in someone's back yard.
He slowed to a sedate walk as soon as he could see McGee, whose unmistakable rear end was sticking out of the now bread-shaped opening of Gibbs' car door.
Tony ruthlessly controlled his breathing. He learned at a young age that irregular breathing gave too much away. He used the trick his mother had taught him so long ago, to breathe and walk to the measured ticks of a metronome. Mentally, he set the pendulum to swinging.
One…two…three…four. Two…two…three…four…
One breath in for a four count, one breath out for a four count.
Regular-sized steps on each beat. No faster.
As he approached McGee's thinner but still ill-tailored backside his body took over the count, enforcing and maintaining regular breathing and a slower heartbeat.
Tony found his body easier to train to routine tasks than his mind. Sometimes his mind was downright unruly.
"Don't jump and hit your head, McGee."
At Tony's words, McGee jumped and hit his head.
McGee backed out and stood up straight, fidgeting with the fit of his NCIS cap. Tony smiled at him, just a little. McGee smiled back.
Just a little.
Then the younger agent stuck his hand out, a formality they did not normally engage in. Tony returned the gesture immediately, and they shook hands for just a moment longer than was called for.
"What do we know, Tim?"
"All our preliminary findings are still holding, at the moment. We're about finished at both scenes; some boxes of evidence were already taken to Abby and the cars are being towed to the garage in the next few minutes. I was just waiting for you to get here, thought you'd want to see the layout before we moved the big pieces around."
"You thought right." Tony turned and started walking the scene, taking in the position of the vehicle and the various parts of vehicle strewn around the pavement.
He paused.
Starting at Gibbs' open car door there was a trail of blood with one of their numerical scene markers. #6.
The blood stain was shaped like West Virginia.
Deep breath. Moving on.
"Where's the backup you're supposed to have?"
McGee gestured with his chin towards a figure outlined by the flashing lights, just outside the brighter area of light.
"Had to make a call. He's been right here the whole time."
"Ziva?"
"She's nearby; she and the other Metro detective just finished at the secondary scene."
"Hmm." Tony continued his walk around the scene. McGee awkwardly wiggled himself back through the deformed car door.
Detective Andy Prifey's bulky frame walked towards him. "DiNozzo! I thought of a better use for that money you spend on all those sissy clothes."
"Better than the castle made out of Starburst? I liked that one."
Prifey gestured with a big, beefy hand. He bore a strong resemblance to Ron Perlman. Perhaps a stronger resemblance to Hellboy, actually. "Impractical. It would melt in the rain eventually."
"Yes, that is the only reason that would be impractical."
"I think you should invest it."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Invest it?" That comment was destined to lead to something less normal-sounding…
"Someplace that specializes in roses and pastrami."
That was more like it.
"Seems like every time I get in trouble with the missus, I end up sending her flowers. And every time they arrive, I realize I should have spent the money on food instead. 'Cuz she sure as hell isn't cooking while she's mad at me."
Tony nodded encouragingly.
"So I figure, why can't there be a place that delivers the flowers and the food? Nothing fancy. Just a bunch of roses wrapped up in paper and a sandwich. Hell, they can use the same roll of paper to wrap the sandwich, I'm not picky."
"It's a million dollar idea."
"Damn straight." Prifey glanced behind Tony in an obvious gesture and looked back at him questioningly.
Tony turned. The Director was standing about 10 feet behind him.
Huh. He had forgotten about him. Why hadn't Vance gone back to the office in the cab?
Why was Vance staring at him like that?
Without breaking the unmoving man's gaze, Tony gestured towards him. "Detective Prifey of Metro, meet the Director of NCIS, Leon Vance. Sir, Prifey's been with Metro going on 20 years now. He's a good cop."
There was a tense silence, finally broken by McGee's approach. "Director! I hope your trip went well, sir."
Tony glanced at Prifey, whose gestures repeated his earlier intended question. Is this guy okay?
DiNozzo responded with a slight shrug. What choice have we got?
Aloud, he murmured, "Andy. Anything?"
Prifey scratched his stubble and decided to ignore the suit in the background. DiNozzo might wear suits. He might even like wearing suits. But he wasn't a suit himself. "You remember that scrawny kid, Delgato?"
"Yeah."
"He's my captain now. Ain't that just the way? Dumbass kid who probably played little league more years than he's been a cop is running my life." Prifey eyed the NCIS Director again. He didn't look very old.
Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "Well there are worse guys, right?"
Sighing, Prifey allowed, "Yeah, he's not so bad. Maybe even decent." He stuck a finger in Tony's face. "Don't you ever repeat that I said that!"
DiNozzo drew an x over his heart.
Prifey grunted. "Delgato remembers you."
McGee somewhat nervously asked, "That's – bad?"
Prifey grinned wolfishly at him. "That's – good, kid. Very good."
Tony tried for a smirk of self-confidence. "Of course it's good. That why there are so many units parked here still?"
"Yep. Authorized the use of sixteen patrolmen for a few hours. They picked up where your NCIS agents left off knocking on doors. Should extend another mile or so back the way your boss came from, and a few blocks back the way the head-on driver came from."
Tony's eyes closed involuntarily for a moment. 16. They couldn't have hoped for that. Hell, they couldn't have mustered 16 guys of their own out of NCIS right now. Whether or not anything came of it, it was a lot. "Any hits?"
"I'll take a full report from each team as they check in tonight. Shouldn't be much longer."
"Thank you, Andy. And thanks for keeping an eye on McGiggles here." Tony's words were light but his expression was serious bordering on painful.
"Yeah, kid's a regular laugh riot." More quietly, he continued, "I know what Gibbs means to you. You let me know if there's anything else we can do."
"Thanks, man. Tell Delgato I owe him one." Tony wanted to say something more substantial, but he couldn't afford to, not with Vance glaring over his shoulder and McGee hanging on their every word.
But Prifey understood. He turned and walked away, hand raised in farewell. "You two keep an eye on each other."
Two cars pulled up as Prifey ducked under the crime tape. Ziva stepped out of the passenger side of one, exchanging a few words with the detective as he took her place, and the unmarked cop car tore off. She spotted Tony and slowly walked towards him, eyes continuously flicking up to meet his, then flicking away, as though she could not stand to hold his gaze for long.
Before Africa she would have stared at him and stalked over. Or sauntered. Now she just walked. Quietly.
He wanted to lean into her, brush shoulders, brush sides. It was Ziva who had started invading his personal space years ago, who always sat closer than a woman normally would, who got in his face, who was always right there.
But tonight she stopped short of where he and McGee stood, looking up at him with worried eyes.
She had always been shorter than he was. But he didn't remember her looking up at him before.
"Tony," she greeted him. "I have very little information other than what McGee already told you. The car from the second scene has already been towed to the NCIS garage. I hope Abby will have more luck. The NCIS agents canvassing the area gained no useful information."
Tony nodded. He wished the Director would leave.
The other car that had pulled up was more easily identifiable. Tony's eyes narrowed as the medical examiner exited the car and approached him. If he had left on his own after being explicitly warned…
Jimmy Palmer exited the car on the other side, muttering about crazy English drivers.
DiNozzo relaxed a little.
"My dear boy, it is so very good to see you. It feels as though it has been ages, rather than one week." Ducky approached and pulled the senior field agent into a quick, tight hug. Tony was surprised, but only for a moment. Ducky didn't make a habit of sharing his worries with just anyone; this was just a sign of how upset the man was.
Palmer looked like he considered following suit, then settled for waving both hands with a big doofy grin and an, "Umm, hi!" Ah, Jimmy. The leader of Awh Shucks moments if ever there was one.
Tony tried to look stern. "Ducky, it's good to see you too. But why did you come out here? There are no bodies." Thank god. "I need you working on those lists." And safe back at the Navy Yard.
"I couldn't not, Anthony. I needed to see this place for myself. I did restrain myself until Mr. Palmer was able to join me." Ducky took a few steps to the side, glancing around the scene. He didn't seem to be taking much in.
"Ziva, McGee, tell Ducky what you can." Ducky took Ziva's arm as McGee began talking, leading their little group back to Gibbs' car.
Tony let out an immense sigh, and allowed his hand to reach up and rest on Palmer's nearest shoulder. Jimmy turned to look at him, eyes big and trusting behind his Clark Kent lenses.
"Ducky's okay. He's just restless and wanted to be around the team. I checked in on Abby before we left. She's – well you know Abby. She's working, so she's holding it together. But you should get to her soon."
Tony nodded his agreement. "Keep it up, Palmer. You know the drill."
Jimmy nodded sharply, once. He wanted to ask questions. He wanted to be reassured. But he knew from the look on his friend's face that now was not the time, so instead, he tried to smile his own reassurance.
The result was rather gruesome.
Tony chuckled, and choked on his own dry throat. He laughed. He caught a glimpse of Vance staring at him and he laughed harder.
He slapped Jimmy on the back and stood up straight, stretching his recently underused body to try and get more blood flowing. Conferences and airports weren't very conducive to exercise. "Come, my people!" His voice boomed out into the night. "Palmer, make sure Ducky and the Director get back to the office in one piece. McGee, Ziva, we have work to do. Come on, let's go!"
Ducky patted Ziva on the arm and willingly walked back towards his car. "We'll see you in the office soon, then," he called out.
Jimmy plastered a big grin on his face. "Director! Have you ever had the chance to ride in Dr. Mallard's car? It's really quite the experience." He chattered incessantly while herding Vance away from Tony.
Finally!
His partners were still over by Gibbs' vehicle. This would not do. "Campfire!" He yelled out.
McGee looked annoyed, but they both came over to him. "Tony, we don't even have –"
Tony stared him down. "Campfire!"
Once the reluctant younger man was close enough, Tony swung and arm over his shoulder. He then took a chance and reached out to place his arm gently around Ziva's waist. She looked startled, but did not resist.
He pulled them both in closer, until they were touching each other as well, forming a small circle. "Here's what we know: Someone took Gibbs. It was organized, there were at least three pursuing cars, meaning three or more kidnappers involved."
McGee quickly added, "Gibbs' car was damaged, and he was most likely injured. But we have every reason to believe he was alive, and no reason not to assume he was fighting when they took him."
Ziva said, "Gibbs was aware of what was happening before the third car joined the chase; whatever their number is, the kidnappers are down by one from the car he forced off of the road. Either one member is dead or they are hampered by dragging along one very injured cohort."
Tony admitted, "We have no idea who these kidnappers may be yet. But we have a garage full of evidence to be processed, and a list of Gibbs haters to check on. It's been five hours. He'll hold on. He's Gibbs."
All three of them stood straighter.
Ziva started a thought, "Tony, I have known many crazy people in my life, and I would not be surprised if someone tried to kill Gibbs, but…"
Tony finished it for her, "But who the hell would be dumb enough to kidnap Gibbs? That is seriously stupid."
Cheered by the thought of the damage their leader was capable of inflicting on a whole army of bad guys all by himself, team Gibbs started tossing around ideas as a tow truck arrived to collect their last piece of evidence.
Tony listened to his partners enthusiastically spilling out ideas, occasionally contributing a useful or outrageous bit himself.
He was also worrying about Abby. Formulating a list of people he still needed to call. Calculating how much damage could be done to one man in five hours of captivity.
And breathing.
One…two…three…four. Two…two…three…four…