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Gibbs pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear. "What?"
McGee winced at the harsh tone of his voice. "I'm still working on getting information on Darryl and that may take a while-"
"Did you call just to tell me that, McGee?" Gibbs demanded.
"Uh, no," McGee said quickly. "Abby ran the prints from the scene. Most of them belonged to the victim and several others were Sampson's, but considering how close he and the victim were, that's not really surprising-"
"McGee!"
"Um, there was also a left index finger print on the victim herself that we are running through the database now. I think it belongs to our killer."
Gibbs thought for a moment. "Have you got Darryl's prints on record?"
There was silence; presumably McGee was checking the database. "Yes."
"Check the left index finger print against Darryl's prints."
More silence. Then, "Boss, it matches. The print is Darryl's," McGee said, disbelief evident in his voice.
"Alright," Gibbs said, mentally running through his options. "I'll get back to you."
He hung up without waiting for a response from McGee and dialed another number.
"Base Security, how may we help you?" came the voice through the phone.
"This is Special Agent Gibbs, I was down earlier," Gibbs said, wanting to get the formalities out of the way.
"Uh, yeah, Gibbs," the reply came. "What can we do for you?"
"Is Peter Darryl from surveillance there?"
There was a moment of hesitation. "No. Sorry, he just signed off."
Gibbs closed his eyes and breathed out. "When he gets back call me."
"Will do."
Gibbs snapped his phone shut and contemplated throwing it at the ground. Instead, he sighed and shoved it in his pocket. Destroying his phone wouldn't do anything to save Tony and Ziva.
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?" Tony asked innocently.
Ziva sighed exasperatedly and tugged on the cuffs. "Stop tapping. It's annoying."
Tony rolled his eyes, but stopped tapping anyway. "You are so short-tempered. That time of month?"
Ziva huffed and ignored him.
Tony grinned, but was unable to speak again as the door swung open.
"I'm back," The man in the doorway said tauntingly, still armed with his gun.
At this comment, Ziva actually laughed. "Do you say everything you think?"
The man narrowed his eyes. "Shut up," he growled, obviously chagrined that he hadn't got the reaction he had hoped for. He pulled a chair into the room and closed the door behind him, taking a seat on the chair.
"Keeping guard now?" Tony asked, genuinely curious.
"Got nothing better to do."
Tony laughed. "What? Did your Nintendo break?"
The man tightened his grip on the gun. "Why aren't you scared of me?"
Tony shrugged. "I'm not scared because I know that you are waiting for something, or else you would have already killed us." He gestured to Ziva. "She isn't scared cause she's just plain stupid."
Ziva pulled on the cuffs.
"Ow!"
The man cut in. "What do you think I'm waiting for?"
Tony rubbed his wrist and glared at Ziva. "A signal maybe." He turned back to the man. "Then again, you may be holding us to get something you want."
At this, the man smiled. "Correct."
Tony nodded knowingly. "So what do you want?"
"Two things," the man said. "Justice," he paused, possibly for effect, "and one million dollars."
Tony's eyes widened.
The man grinned sadistically. "Now let's hope for your sake that your little agency-" he said the word with as much contempt as he could muster, "-can make that happen."
Tony and Ziva looked at each other, attempting to mask their worry. The same thing was running through their heads.
Not good.
A/N: So yeah. Theories?
Review if you want more.
