Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.

McGee arrived back at his desk and gaped at the stacks of archive file boxes placed between the workstations. The boxes contained files of Commander Barnes' legal cases that had resulted in convictions. Pete was right. Over a 15-year career, there were hundreds of files.

The JAG office took threats against its personnel very seriously. They had compiled their own list of eight persons of interest, who had threatened violence against the Commander. Gibbs and Ziva had already begun to check on the whereabouts of those eight people.

At Gibbs' enquiring look, McGee explained that Tony had elected to return in the tow truck. Gibbs and Ziva were both surprised. Tony would normally consider that task unworthy of his experience and stature as senior field agent and would order McGee to ride in the tow truck while he returned in the comfort of the NCIS vehicle. Concussion or no concussion.

"He is alright, yes?" Ziva asked.

"I'm not sure," McGee said. "He didn't complain about my driving, hasn't ragged on me about anything for days. In fact, he's not said much of anything lately."

"DiNozzo's fine. He'll work through this," Gibbs said. "Grab some files McGee. We can use the help."

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Abby met Tony as he returned to the NCIS garage in the tow truck. She linked her arm through his in a silent, comforting gesture. She loved Tony like a brother and she hated to see him so miserable.

As they looked over the burnt out wreck, Tony shook his head slowly, knowing there was very little chance of finding any evidence that could assist their investigation.

"Don't you worry, Mister!" Abby told him. "I will go over this thing with a fine tooth comb. If there's something to be found – I will find it!"

"Thanks, Abs." He gave her a half grin and headed for the elevator.

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Tony returned to the bullpen and joined his teammates in their search for information on each of the eight persons of interest.

Several hours later, at 2030 they stood in front of the large plasma screen by Gibbs' desk to discuss their findings. Of the eight persons of interest, two were dead and four still called Leavenworth home. Two had been released. Ziva had confirmed that one of the released was now living in California. She had already verified his alibi. This left one person of interest whose whereabouts at this time were unknown.

Tony excused himself as his cell phone rang. He spoke quietly into his phone for a few moments before returning to his team.

"Problem, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked

"No Boss, but I need some personal time tomorrow," Tony explained quietly.

"The funeral?" Gibbs guessed. Tony nodded solemnly. "Take the day, Tony."

"Shouldn't need more than a few hours," Tony explained, anxious to return to the investigation as soon as possible. "The funeral is at 0900. I'll come back to the office afterwards."

Gibbs nodded his head in agreement, not willing to push the point.

"Boss!" McGee said hanging up his phone. "That was Dr Philip Green. He's an oncologist at Thomas Jefferson Uni Hospital in Philadelphia. He just confirmed that our last person of interest, James Davies, has end stage cancer and has been in the oncology ward for the last four weeks. He's not our killer."

"DAMMIT!!" Tony's loud and uncharacteristic curse turned every head in the Operations Room as his frustration erupted. "Another freaking dead end. Our only leads now are a missing security guard and Pete's three hundred legal files which may or may not have any relevance to Becky's killer!!"

He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair as he tried to calm his breathing. When he opened his eyes, he said in a soft voice. "I'm sorry Boss. I'll keep going through the files."

"Grab your gear, DiNozzo, I'll drive you home," Gibbs said with finality. "You have the funeral to deal with tomorrow."

Tony protested vehemently but Gibbs would not be swayed. He sent his team home for the night, knowing McGee and Ziva would both be in early again tomorrow to continue to sort through the Commanders' legal files.

Ziva rose to her feet and collected her things. She rounded her desk and made her way to the elevator.

"McGee! Go home," Gibbs instructed.

"I'll be right behind you, Boss," McGee assured him.

Ignoring the furious scowl DiNozzo was wearing, Gibbs led the way to the elevator where Ziva stood holding the door open for them. They arrived at the car park level and were walking to their cars when McGee ran breathlessly from the stairwell.

"Boss, wait!" he yelled causing all three agents to reflexively reach their hands towards their side arms.

McGee had been switching off his computer for the evening, when an alert sounded on his PDA. Allan Maxwell, the missing security guard, had just accessed his bank account at the ATM a block from O'Leary's Nightclub. It was a good bet he was on his way to O'Leary's.

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They took two sedans, Gibbs and Tony in one and Ziva and McGee in the other, and parked together, a little down the block from O'Leary's. They were close enough to watch both entrances as the front entrance opened onto the street, while the side entrance opened into a dimly lit alley. They needed to confirm that Maxwell was inside.

"I'll go in, Boss," Tony volunteered. "I'll attract a lot less attention than any of you."

"No!" Gibbs replied adamantly. "Have you forgotten that you are not cleared for active duty, DiNozzo?"

"Then, who's going in?" Tony countered.

"Ziva and I will go in and cover the front, McGee will cover the side exit from the alley," Gibbs instructed, "and if you even think about getting out of this car, you'll find my foot in your ass."

"But Boss, this isn't exactly your type of establishment," Tony objected.

"Just what kind of establishment is my type of establishment, DiNozzo?" Gibbs barked giving Tony a look that would freeze hell.

"I just meant that it's a meeting place for low-lives, junkies and dead beats. I keep telling you, Boss, I make a better low-life than you do."

"You got that right," Gibbs said. "But you're still not going in."

Gibbs knew that Tony was right. Dressed in a pair of jeans, light sweater and runners, with his hair messed and the dark circles under his eyes, Tony would fit right in with O'Leary's usual clientele. However, Tony also had a concussion and hairline skull fracture and Gibbs would not risk him to the possibility of further injury.

They fitted their earwigs and com-links and headed for O'Leary's leaving a very exasperated DiNozzo sitting in the car monitoring their transmissions.

"I'm in position in the alley, covering the side exit," said McGee

"Roger that." Gibbs acknowledged as he and Ziva entered the nightclub through the front door.

Loud distorted music and the stench of smoke and alcohol assaulted their senses as Gibbs and Ziva seated themselves at a table, carefully scanning their surroundings.

"Tony was right," Ziva said.

"About the clientele or about us attracting attention?" Gibbs replied.

"Both."

"Well, contrary to popular belief, he didn't make senior field agent because he smiled."

Gibbs knew that Tony was listening. He hoped the backward compliment would provide an encouraging boost to the confidence levels he seen flagging over the past few days.

In a whispered voice Ziva advised McGee and Tony via her com-link, that they had a visual on Maxwell. He was seated with two unknown men at the far end of the bar. They watched as the men traded drugs for cash, bemused that the transaction had been so blatant and unabashed. After a few minutes, the two men stood and walked to another table, presumably waiting for their next customer. Maxwell remained seated for a few moments before he stood and turned to leave via the alley.

"Maxwell's coming out, McGee," Gibbs warned, heightening McGee's alertness and causing Tony to lean forward in the car trying to get a better look.

Maxwell exited the nightclub and walked into the alley. Ziva and Gibbs stood and walked quickly to close in from behind. As they approached the side exit, the two drug dealers blocked their path.

From his position in the car, Tony heard Gibbs identify himself and Ziva as federal agents and order the men to step aside. Then he heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting, glass smashing and tables and chairs being upturned. Although concerned, Tony knew that the combination of Ziva and Gibbs would best most comers.

For now, Tony's primary concern was for McGee, left to face Maxwell in the alley without backup. He winced a little at the thought of disobeying Gibbs' direct order to stay in the car but he needed to ensure that someone had McGee's back. Climbing from the car and positioning himself directly across the road from the alley, his tension eased slightly once he had McGee in his sights. He could still hear the sounds of the fight inside the club through his earwig. Gibbs and Ziva were still otherwise occupied.

He watched and listened as McGee identified himself to Maxwell as a federal agent, just as Gibbs had done moments earlier. He instructed Maxwell to place both hands against the wall of the building and the huge man appeared to comply.

Tony couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that instinctively caused him to run towards the alley, but he was already sprinting across the road as he saw Maxwell turn with a speed that surprised McGee. Maxwell's huge fist connected with McGee's jaw, sending the young agent sprawling through the trashcans lining the alley and leaving him momentarily dazed. For a man of 220 pounds, Maxwell was surprisingly fleet of foot as he ran towards the street and caught sight of the rapidly approaching Anthony DiNozzo.

With the speed and strength of a trapped animal, Maxwell ran directly at Tony. Leaning in as he ran, he hit Tony under the ribcage with his shoulder, expelling the air from Tony's lungs with a mighty whoosh. The impact knocked both men to the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

Winded and stunned by the force of the collision, Tony was pinned to the ground by Maxwell's bulky frame and unable to move. Maxwell recovered quickly, drawing back his ham-sized fist and intending to pummel Tony into the ground until he felt the cold steel barrel of Gibbs' gun at the nape of his neck.

"Do it and die," he said menacingly.

Ziva assisted McGee to stand and they ran to join their teammates. Gibbs had manhandled Maxwell to his feet and Ziva and McGee placed him in handcuffs. Tony lay writhing on the ground wheezing and gasping for air.

"Tony!" Gibbs was kneeling by his side now and Tony's eyes were closed tightly as he desperately tried to catch his breath. "Tony, look at me! Did you hit your head?"

Tony opened his eyes, his pale face rapidly changing colour due to lack of oxygen.

"M'kay, Boss…just knocked…the wind...out of me," he managed to choke out.

"Take it easy, take deep breaths," Gibbs replied. Tony was still on the broad of his back. Recovering from the impact of the collision, his traumatized diaphragm once again started to assist his lungs to inhale and exhale. It took a few minutes for Tony to start to breathe more normally. Gibbs helped him to sit up and then checked on McGee. The junior agent assured him that he was fine but, already, the telltale sign of a large bruise was forming on his jaw.

Gibbs' eyes met fleetingly with Ziva's. They had run directly from the bar fight to the alley and had not had the chance to check if either of them had been injured in the fight. Apart from some split and bruised knuckles, Gibbs looked fine and Ziva had barely mussed a hair. The nod of mutual respect and the tiny grin they exchanged was enough to confirm that they were fine and they had secretly enjoyed the physical confrontation. Ziva and McGee led Maxwell to their sedan for the trip back to NCIS.

Two patrol units from Metro PD arrived. Gibbs flashed his badge and explained that they had witnessed the two men inside the club selling drugs; they had impeded a federal investigation and assaulted two federal agents. Gibbs told the officers that they would find them handcuffed to a table and handed the officers his handcuffs key and business card, telling them to contact him when they required his statement.

Gibbs assisted Tony to his feet and steered him towards the car.

"Catch your breath, DiNozzo," he growled angrily, "because once Ducky's had a look at you, we are going to have a discussion about why the hell you got out of the car!"

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