Chapter 7

"Mark, what the hell-"

"Shut your mouth right now, McGee!" Mark said, pointing the gun at his former co-worker.

Tim kept his hands visible to Mark.

"Listen, I know you want me dead. You can do whatever you want to me, but leave Tony out of it. He isn't involved."

"He's part of your new team, McGee. He's involved whether he wanted to be or not."

Mark moved closer to Tim.

"Get up."

Tim got to his feet.

"Turn around, and put your hands behind your back."

Tim didn't ask questions. He obeyed. He felt Mark pull his arms, and then he made his move. He swung around and tried to throw a punch at Mark. He missed, and Mark twisted his arm behind his back, and shoved him against the wall. Tim shouted in pain at the feeling of his shoulder stretching in its socket.

"You never could take me, McGee. You're getting better, though." he shoved TIm harder into the wall. "Your practice hasn't paid off yet. Come on," he said, shoving Tim ahead into the kitchen. Mark grabbed a kitchen chair and shoved Tim down into it. He confiscated Tim's handcuffs from his coat, and handcuffed Tim's hands through the holes in the back of the chair.

"You're not going anywhere, McGee. You're mine."

"I wouldn't count on that."

Tim and Mark looked up to see Tony standing in the kitchen doorway, gun pointed at Mark.

"Drop the gun, Perea."

Mark responded by pointing it at Tim's head.

"Drop yours, or you'll be cleaning your partner's brains up from your kitchen floor."

Tony and Mike stared each other down. Tony didn't want to drop his weapon, but he also didn't want Tim to die because of a stupid move on Tony's part. Reluctantly, Tony lowered his weapon, and it clattered to the tiled kitchen floor.

"Smart move." Mark reached into Tim's jacket pocket and took out a cell phone. He tossed it to Tony. "Call Gibbs."

"That could be hazardous to your health, Mark."

"Call him. I've got something to say to the almighty Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Tony hit the speed dial for Gibbs' cell. The team leader picked up immediately.

"What's wrong,DiNozzo?"

"We found Perea, Boss."

"What do you mean?"

Mark grabbed the phone before Tony could answer Gibbs' question.

"Agent Gibbs, it's been far too long since we've talked."

"What did you do,Perea?"

"I've been chatting with Agents McGee and DiNozzo here. Agent DiNozzo has a charming little apartment. It'd be a sham to splatter McGee's brains all over it."

"Shoot him and you won't live to see tomorrow,Perea."

"Oh, I'll let them both live... if you and NCIS give me what I want."

"I'd rather shoot you in the face."

"That's too bad, Gibbs. I was just enjoying getting to know Agent DiNozzo."

Mike aimed the gun at Tony and fired. Tony fell to the floor, the bullet buried deep in his thigh.

"No!"

"Tony!" McGee shouted as Tony writhed in pain.

"Don't worry, Gibbs. He isn't dead yet. He's not going to be able to walk for a while, though."

"I'm coming for you,Perea... and you're not walking out of that apartment alive, do you hear me?"

"They'll both be dead by the time you get here. I suggest you listen to my demands, Gibbs, before DiNozzo loses function in another limb."

"What do you want?"

"I want passage out of this country. I'm off to warmer waters, Gibbs, and I'm never coming back. Unfortunately, being marked as a terrorist makes it hard to leave the country."

"I'll have to talk to the Director about that, Mark. You know I can't authorize that."

"You have two hours. If this phone doesn't ring by ten o'clock sharp, one of your precious Agents will die."

"You'll hear from me."

Gibbs hung up, and Mark set the phone down on the kitchen counter.

"You two had better hope he calls back, for your own good."

Gibbs turned to Ellie as soon as he hung up.

"Did you get the trace?"

"Yeah. They really are at Tony's apartment. Should we go after him?"

"I know this guy. He's not stupid. He'll know if we're playing him."

"He's going to kill them!"

"I won't let that happen. Trust me, Ellie."

Ellie hadn't known Gibbs for very long, but when he asked for her trust, she gave it to him without question. She just hoped Tony and Tim were really OK.

After a while, Mark retreated into the living room, leaving Tim and Tony alone in the kitchen. Tim shifted in his seat as he attempted to pick the lock on his handcuffs. Tony was lying on his back on the floor, trying to breathe slowly, to push the pain in his leg away.

"Tony, I'm sorry," Tim said as he gave up on his handcuffs for the fourth time. "I'm a failure."

"Shut up, McGee."

"You wouldn't have a bullet in your leg right now if it weren't for my screw-up."

"This isn't your fault, so stop blaming yourself," Tony said sharply. "This guy was crazy long before he supervised you."

"I was just the one to turn him in. Now he wants to kill me."

"No one is killing anyone, McGee. We're going to get out of this."

"Hopefully sooner than later," Tim said, starting work on his handcuffs again. He had to get them off so he could get Tony out of there, and get him help.

"He's probably in there helping-himself to my booze," Tony said.

"If we get out of here alive, I'll restock your liquor cabinet myself, Tony."

"I'm-holding you to that-Probie."

Tim nearly gasped in elation as the handcuff fell off of his right hand. He pulled his hands through the chair and got up. He looked at the clock on the microwave. They had a half hour until Gibbs was supposed to call Tony's phone. He was hoping Mark was as cocky as he'd been ten years earlier, and thought he could leave Tim and Tony alone in the kitchen without fear of escape. He moved quietly across the kitchen and knelt at Tony's side.

"Where's your fire escape?" he whispered into Tony's ear.

"Bedroom window," Tony said quietly.

"Can we get there without him seeing us?"

"If he's in the study boozing-boozing up, yeah, we can get in there."

Tim pressed himself against the kitchen wall and silently peeked around the corner. The living room was empty.

"Do you think you can walk with my help?"

"If we hurry. I've got about twenty minutes or so before I pass out."

"Ok, we have to move quickly. I'm going to put my arm around you, and you're going to have to pull yourself up with me, okay?"

"Let's just do it already."

Tim helped him sit up, and with Tony's assistance, helped his friend to his feet. By some miracle, Tony managed not to scream out in pain when he put the slightest pressure on his leg. Tim took a last peek, and he and Tony made their way across the hall quickly to the bedroom.

Tony's window happened to be open. Tim slid the screen up, and helped Tony through the window first. Tony started down the fire escape while Tim slid through the window and closed the screen behind him. He trotted down the first set of stairs and supported Tony to the bottom. When they came to the end, Tim lowered down the ladder, and went down a couple of rungs ahead of Tony.

"Take it slow, Tony. I'm right here. Once you get down, we can get the hell out of here. I think we have about five minutes before Gibbs is supposed to call."

Tony managed to fight the pain and get himself to the bottom of the ladder, and Tim helped him to the ground. Tony was starting to fade out as they made their way to the street.

"Now what?" Tony asked.

Tim saw a cab coming down the street and started to wave frantically.

"Stop!" He shouted, flailing his arm.

The cab pulled over, and the driver rolled down his window.

"Where are you headed?"

"Bethesda Naval Hospital, as fast as you can get us there."

"Hey man, why don't you call an ambulance? I don't want no blood in my cab."

Tim leaned into the cab window.

"In two minutes, a very angry man is going to come out of that building and start shooting at us. You either take us to the hospital or see what happens when he comes out."

"Get in."

As Tim helped Tony into the cab, a bullet whizzed by Tim's head and hit the side of the cab. Thinking quickly, he shoved Tony in the rest of the way, and slammed the door.

"Tim! You stupid bastard! Get in the car!"

Tim ignored him and took out his wallet. He threw a wad of cash at the cab driver.

"Get him to the hospital. Consider that a big tip. Go!"

"McGee! You fucking asshole! McGee! Get in the damn car!"

The cab pulled away from the curb. Tony watched through the car window as Perea jumped his partner and dragged him into an alley on the side of Tony's apartment building.

"TIm! No!" he turned to the driver. "Turn the hell around, right now."

"Mister, you're shot and bleeding all over my cab. I'm sure as hell not turning around and driving you back there. You're going to the damn hospital."

Tony leaned back on the seat and looked down at his bloody leg. The cab driver was right. He'd be useless to save his partner in his current condition.

"Do you have a cell phone?"

"Yeah. You need to call someone?"

"Yeah, someone that will save my partner's life."

The driver tossed his cell phone into the backseat.

"Make it quick. I'm almost out of minutes."

"Thanks."

Tony hurriedly dialed Gibbs' number. He had to get help for his partner, and fast.

TBC...