DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N As we reach the half way mark in the story, I thank you for your continued support. Hope you enjoy chapter seven. L
Chapter 7
Cold water splashed across his face dragging him reluctantly from the dark, serenity of unconsciousness. His eyes opened to slits allowing the harsh light to drive shards of agony into his brain. He closed his eyes again, unable to cope with the wavering double vision that caused his stomach to rebel and sent hot bile rising to the back of his throat. He swallowed the bitterness as rough hands grabbed him from behind and once again forced him upright into a chair.
His heart skipped a beat when he remembered where he was and that McGee had been with him. He forced his eyes open wider and fought against the dizziness that threatened to pitch him back onto the floor. He saw McGee, bruised and bloody but conscious, alert and sitting across from him. Tony exhaled in relief and the two agents exchanged a wordless message of support.
"Welcome back, funny man." Saleem snarled. "Be warned - we are through playing games with you. You will tell me where the hard drive is right now or you will die."
Tony nodded in McGee's direction and winced as the throbbing in his skull intensified.
"You let him go and I'll take you to the hard drive."
Saleem shook his head. "Not going to happen."
McGee watched as Tony's features hardened again. His voice held a raw and dangerous edge McGee had never heard before.
"You want the hard drive, let him go."
Saleem snorted contemptuously. "You are not in any position to be making demands."
"See, that's where we disagree, Sal," Tony replied. "I've got what you want, that puts me in the driver's seat."
With a nod from Saleem, Zaheer drew his arm back and backhanded Tony across the face. Tony felt the warm sticky blood flowing from his nose and exhaled deeply waiting for the room to stop spinning. He squared his shoulders and quipped.
"Of course, I didn't say it was a very comfortable driver's seat."
Saleem drew his weapon and aimed it directly at Tony's heart.
"It's a big forest, Sal - kill me and you'll never find the hard drive," Tony said calmly as he set his jaw defiantly and impaled the terrorist with a glare that almost dared him to pull the trigger.
Saleem smiled wolfishly then turned and thrust the barrel of his gun hard against McGee's temple.
"You may have the hard drive funny man, but we have your partner and you have five seconds to tell me where the hard drive is."
McGee slipped the knife into his back pocket and sat rigidly in his chair. He was completely unnerved by the feel of the cold hard gun-barrel pressed against his head. Images of his broken hearted family imposed themselves into his thoughts and he felt numb with despair.
"Three seconds," Saleem, warned.
McGee tried desperately to steel his features and rein in his fear. He looked across at his partner's bloodied face and concentrated on the green eyes silently demanding his trust. He was surprised to find that he gave it unconditionally.
"One second," Saleem announced his finger adding a miniscule amount of pressure to the trigger.
"Wait!" Tony snarled. "I'll do it. I'll show you where it is, just put the gun down."
McGee felt the relief surge through his body as the gun was removed from his head. He felt ridiculously grateful that he was seated, as he knew at that moment, his legs would struggle to bear his weight. He took a deep breath and stretched his shaking fingers to retrieve the knife from his pocket and continued to cut the ropes binding his wrists.
"Wise choice," Saleem answered smugly before calling his three companions into another huddle by the foot of the stairs.
"You okay?" Tony whispered.
McGee nodded, not yet trusting his voice.
"You got the knife?"
Another nod.
"I'll lead these guys away from the house," Tony continued. "You know what to do - cut yourself loose then get the hell outta here."
"But…"
"You have a problem taking orders, McGee?" Tony hissed with his green eyes blazing. "This may be your only chance; you get the hell outta here, are we clear?"
"We're clear, Tony," came McGee's barely audible reply.
Saleem and Shoaib made their way up the stairs to the house as Zaheer and Anwar grabbed a shoulder each and roughly dragged Tony to his feet. He shrugged off their hands and walked across the room, nearly falling as the world tilted recklessly under him and then righted itself again. As he started to climb the stairs, his hands still tied behind his back, a forceful shove from behind knocked him face down on the staircase. He turned his head to see McGee watching him without expression and he held his gaze for a few moments before sending a barely perceptible nod, climbing awkwardly back on his feet and out the door.
McGee's heart beat rapidly. He knew that, as soon as Tony gave them the hard drive, they were both as good as dead. He pushed the thought from his mind and focussed on Tony's order, 'Cut yourself free and get the hell outta here,' and he resumed cutting the ropes with renewed vigour.
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--
Ziva walked across the bullpen to where Gibbs and Fornell were discussing possible sites of Khalil's house on an aerial view map of the Blacksburg area. Gibbs looked up as she approached.
"You got something?" he asked.
"I just spoke with Agent Lucas at Guantanamo Bay," she replied. "He advised that a prisoner was brought to the facility approximately 2 weeks ago by the CIA. He was classified as a high-value detainee."
"He have a name?" Gibbs asked.
"Agent Lucas said the prisoner has been registered as Asif Javed and his identity papers appeared legitimate," Ziva replied. "He has not been allowed access to the prisoner but he has seen him from a distance in the exercise yard."
Gibbs looked over his shoulder at Fornell, "How reliable is your source?"
"Very reliable," Fornell replied confidently. "I wouldn't put it past the CIA to have falsified the identifty papers or the name on the register ."
"Call Lucas back," Gibbs told Ziva, "we need to confirm identity of this Asif Javed. Tell him to use a telescopic lens and to do it quietly – no one else finds out."
As Ziva returned to her desk to place another call to Gitmo, Fornell and Gibbs turned their attention back to the plasma screen and the aerial view map.
"So we have 49 possible locations," Gibbs re-capped, "all approximately 30-minutes drive from the Blacksburg airstrip, remote and all backing on to a wooded or forested area."
"How you wanna do this?" Fornell asked.
"We'll get each address and check the owner's name," Gibbs replied. "It's not likely Khalil's used his real name so we'll need to do the usual paper trail search - social security numbers, DMV photo checks, bank accounts activity that kinda thing."
"It's gonna take some time," Fornell said.
"If you've got a better idea, Tobias, I'd like to hear it," Gibbs snapped. "I've got two agents out there somewhere, involved in God knows what!"
"No, no better ideas," Fornell said quietly, understanding the concern and desperation driving his friend's harsh words.
Gibbs' fingers hovered over his keyboard without touching the keys. A few seconds passed before Fornell spoke again.
"Do you even know how to do an on-line paper trail search?" he asked.
"Yeah, I get McGee to do it!" Gibbs said indignantly. "How 'bout you?"
"Same…I have my people do it," he answered sheepishly.
The Senior Agents looked around the office to ensure their conversation wasn't overheard.
"Pull up a chair, Tobias," Gibbs said with a shrug, "How hard can this be?"
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--
Vance and Abby arrived at the lab and Abby immediately powered up two computers that were situated side by side on one of her workstations. The Director immediately accessed his own account and printed off a document. He retrieved it from the printer and handed it to Abby.
"Before we start, you should read this," he said.
"What is it?" she enquired.
"It's your statement, explaining that you were ordered, by me, to do what we are about to do," he explained. "It absolves you from all culpability should we get caught hacking into the DOD site."
Abby cast a tentative glance at the document.
"Ms Scuito…I will not allow you to assist me if you don't sign this statement."
Abby's eyes narrowed slightly as she silently appraised him and he mistook her hesitation for reluctance.
"If you'd rather not do this, now's the time to speak up," he told her.
Looking him squarely in the eyes, Abby replied, "May I borrow your pen, Director?"
Having signed the document, Abby listened as Vance explained the intricacies of anti-hacking and intrusion prevention protocols of the DOD. The method of data-splitting their sensitive files by storing elements of an encrypted file on separate servers had proved very successful and almost impenetrable. Although Abby was no slouch when it came to computers, she couldn't help but be impressed by Vance's knowledge.
"How many times does the system split the data?" Abby asked.
"On highly classified and sensitive files like this – two maybe three times."
At Abby's blanched expression the Director continued to explain.
"When a file is created, the system automatically generates a 'secret' file containing randomly selected data and by combining the two files a new encrypted file is created and the original file is destroyed. The two remaining files are then stored on two different servers."
"So, to access the file we need, we have to hack into at least two servers, while circumnavigating, like, a zillion firewalls and intrusions detection programs, to reach the encrypted file and the 'secret' file," Abby continued. "Then we use the randomly selected data in the 'secret' file to decrypt the encrypted file and get our information?"
Vance nodded. "That's right," he said. "You still want in."
"If it helps Tony and McGee - you betcha!" Abby replied, her green eyes shining with determination.
They had been typing away furiously on their respective keyboards for almost an hour when their concentration was disturbed by a rich British accent resonating through the unusually quiet lab.
"Abigail, my dear," Ducky called as he entered through the sliding glass doors with his young assistant trailing behind. "We were just heading out to…"
Ducky stopped so suddenly that Jimmy cannoned into him from behind, earning an exasperated look from the ME.
"I do apologise, I didn't realise that anybody else was here," he said in an uncharacteristically tense and strained tone.
"That's quite alright, Doctor," Vance replied. "Is there something I should know about?"
Ducky chortled without humour. "Perhaps, Sir, that question would have been best directed to your superiors before you involved our two young men in whatever mess they're now in."
"Um…Ducky…" Abby tried to interrupt.
The ME did not hear her words nor did he notice her repeatedly sliding her index finger across her throat in an effort to stop his tirade. Ducky had his dander up and he blustered on oblivious to Abby's warning.
"Furthermore, Director, as you are in no small part responsible for these dire circumstances, the least you could do is roll up your sleeves and assist those of us who care about Anthony and Timothy, to get on with the job of locating them!"
Abby and Palmer exchanged wide-eyed mortified looks and Abby tried to speak again, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen upon the group.
"Um…Duckman…the Director and I have been working for an hour to get information to help Tony and Tim," she said softly. "He is totally helping us."
"Yes, well…" Ducky stammered briefly before finding his composure and turning to his assistant. "I hope you've learned from this, Mr Palmer, when you jump to conclusions without knowing the full circumstances you wind up looking very foolish indeed."
Jimmy's jaw dropped open. "Me?" he uttered in disbelief. "But Doctor…"
Pivoting back towards the Director, Ducky attempted to explain.
"Please excuse him, Director, it's been a very trying day and his concern for Anthony and Timothy seems to have clouded his judgement," Ducky said. "Perhaps his blood sugar needs checking, he is a diabetic you know. Come, Mr. Palmer, let me take you out for some refreshments, my treat. In fact, we'll bring back refreshments for everyone - we all need to keep our strength up. I remember once when I was backpacking through Egypt…."
Ducky's voice faded out as he grabbed a very confused Palmer by the arm and beat a hasty retreat from the lab.
Abby worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Don't be mad, Director, they're just concerned about Tony and McGee," she said. "We all are."
"Then let's get back to work and find them," Vance said.
"You got it, Mister...I mean, Director!" Abby said, returning her attention to her computer.
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—
His pulse pounded heavily in his temples as Tony stumbled toward the forested area at the back of the house. Saleem, Shoaib, Anwar and Zaheer followed a yard or so behind speaking in their native Urdu and no doubt planning to kill Tony and McGee as soon as they had possession of the hard drive.
As Tony had hoped, all four terrorists had accompanied him, leaving McGee alone to cut himself free and get the hell outta Dodge. This whole freakin' assignment had been a bust right from the start but at least he'd done one thing right – he'd watched his partner's six and created an opportunity for him to escape. Despite his own bleak future, Tony found that thought strangely comforting.
The biting wind cut through his sweater and the late fall temperature turned each breath to mist in the frigid air. His hands were still painfully bound behind his back restricting his movements and every forceful shove from behind sent him staggering as he fought to remain on his feet. As they reached the tree line, a large hand grabbed his bicep and forced him to stop.
"Find the hard drive," Saleem demanded.
"That may be harder than you think," Tony explained. "After all, seen one tree seen 'em all, right?"
Zaheer drove his fist forcefully onto Tony's jaw bringing him to his knees. His vision greyed around the edges and bile burned the back of his throat. He spat the taste from his mouth and silently cursed the new bout of vertigo. Forcing himself to stand, he flexed his jaw and gasped for breath. Cold air filled his lungs and he inhaled in huge, grateful gulps.
"Seriously, guys…you want me to remember where I buried the hard drive, you gotta stop hitting me in the head," he gasped.
"This is where you were when we located you," Saleem continued. "The hard drive should be here."
"See, that's where you're wrong. We were running around out here in the dark for 20 minutes before your guys threw their little impromptu slumber party," Tony wheezed, his head still throbbing from the after effects of the concussion grenade.
Saleem looked at him with a mixture of contempt and disbelief.
"I told you I'd give you the hard drive, it may take me a little while to find it, that's all," Tony said. "I don't suppose you'd consider untying me so that I could look properly?"
Saleem considered the request for a moment and then looked at his colleagues who were all brandishing weapons in Tony's direction. He shrugged and after a curt instruction in Urdu, Anwar cut the bindings from Tony's wrists. He winced as the rush of circulation returned to his fingers and hands, bringing with it a tingling, burning sensation. He flexed his fingers and gently massaged his rope burned wrists.
"I'm gonna need a flashlight," Tony told them as Saleem sighed loudly in exasperation.
"You have five minutes," Saleem sighed throwing Tony a flashlight. "If I do not have the hard drive in my possession in five minutes, I will send Anwar to kill your friend. Do you understand me?"
Tony nodded and turned away, shining the flashlight on the ground and trying to re-trace his steps. He had made a small pile of leaves to mark where he had buried the item but the incessant wind had made locating it extremely difficult. His search became more desperate and his heart pounded rapidly when he heard Saleem call.
"Two minutes."
Tony fought another wave of nausea as he watched Anwar jog back toward the house.
"Wait, don't do this!" Tony called anxiously. "I swear I'm not playing you – I can't find where I buried it."
Tony continued his frantic search and Saleem raised a handheld transceiver in the air.
"In 30 seconds, I will instruct Anwar, to kill your friend," he said. "Whether he lives or dies is up to you."
Tony scoured the ground looking for signs, despite the bitter cold, he ran his hand over his brow and wiped the sweat from his eyes. Time was up and he knew it. Saleem pressed the transmission button on the radio and spoke two words to Anwar.
"Kill him."
Tony held his breath as all remaining colour leeched from his face and 5 seconds later, a single gunshot rent the cold night air.
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--
His fingers felt thick and numb from lack of circulation and he desperately kept a tenuous purchase on the knife as he attempted to cut his hands free. He was frustrated at how long it was taking and he knew that Tony would not be able to stall the terrorists for too long.
He cursed profusely as the knife slipped from his fingers, slick with sweat and blood, it bounced a yard away. He edged from the chair to the floor in stilted movements and backed up to the knife. Blindly, his fingers searched for the knife and he exhaled with relief when they wrapped around the hilt. He tried to ignore the stinging pain as his uncoordinated movements sent the razor sharp blade slicing into the flesh on his wrists. After an interval of minutes that seemed like hours, his bindings fell to the floor and his hands were free.
McGee examined the superficial cuts to his wrists and then looked at the knife.
"Gotta get me one of these," he muttered to himself.
He quickly made his way to the table where the contents of his and Tony's backpacks were strewn haphazardly. He quickly scooped the items back into the packs, relieved when he found the keys to their car, but noting with resignation that their weapons and their Sat phones were gone. Slinging both packs over his shoulder, he started for the stairs when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
Placing the backpacks at the foot of the stairs, McGee quickly and silently climbed to the top landing and pressed his body against the wall. He listened intently, confirming the approach of only one man and then he held his breath as the door opened.
Anwar stepped onto the landing then caught a flash of movement to his right as McGee slammed the point of his elbow into his exposed Adam's apple, causing an instantly debilitating injury to the man's throat and larynx. Anwar was unable to draw any breath and he gasped loudly, dropping to his knees and releasing his hold on his radio transceiver and his weapon as his two hands grasped at his constricting airway.
McGee retrieved the gun and the transceiver and led Anwar, still fighting to breathe, to the bottom of the stairs, pushing him into his recently vacated seat. Using a measure of electrical cable he found spooled in the corner of the basement; he tied Anwar's hand and feet and was about to leave the basement when the transceiver crackled and two words sounded through the static. "Kill him."
McGee drew the gun from his waistband and pointed it in Anwar's direction. He knew that this man, this terrorist, would have killed him without hesitation. The man's eyes widened in fear as McGee's finger tightened on the trigger, then he jerked the barrel upwards and fired a round into the ceiling.
He stood stock still, weighing his options and once again he found himself reciting Tony's last words like a mantra, 'Cut yourself free and get the hell outta here.' He gathered the backpacks and the car keys and left the house.
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--
A/N Thanks for reading, L