AN: Hey again, I'm back. Thanks to all who still have the patience to follow this story. And thanks to you who make my day and encourage me to keep writing by reviewing - Danke! This chapter is dedicated to yllek who keeps reminding me very kindly that there are still chapters waiting to be written :)
And yes, I'll tell you again that at least half of the characters are not mine. The others might be mine but they keep surprising me by doing things I didn't think them capable of.
9. Blind Spot
"Fornell." With a nod Jenny Shepard greeted the visitor already waiting for her at Cynthia's desk. "I see you've made yourself at home already." With a small gesture she invited Tobias Fornell into her office where she went straight away to fetch one of the numerous bottles of liquor.
"I'm not sure we need glasses. I feel like downing at least one entire bottle," she said, motioning for her guest to take a seat.
"That sounds inviting," Fornell said. "I actually didn't know excessive drinking was NCIS SOP. Should I've brought my own bottle?"
"Since we have to keep our senses I suggest we stick to protocol and limit the excess by using glasses," Jenny said, pouring generous amounts of Scotch into rather voluminous vessels. "Tell me something I don't know."
"You have Kristin Parson. What did she tell you?" Fornell countered.
"She's still here, working with our forensics scientist. You can question her if you like."
"That's too generous, Director," Fornell said sarcastically. "Since the people I wanted to speak with are conveniently unavailable, I may have to resort to my very own agent to get some information on what the hell's going on. I must admit this operation seems really weird. All files concerning the op are either non-accessible to me or they have disappeared. I'm beginning to think ... "
"... there might be a mole?" Jenny completed Fornell's sentence, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah," Fornell admitted. "Perhaps Mark Ashen isn't who I thought he is. But I don't know him well. It could as easily be someone higher up. Knowing what's at stake there could be someone who tries to stall until the big deal is over by keeping Ashen out of the picture. But I'd need Parson to check on that. She's the one hacking whatever needs to be hacked when I want information."
"I never heard that," Jenny Shepard deadpanned.
"Did I say something?" Fornell answered. He downed his scotch in one swallow, putting the empty glass on the table. They both sat in silence for a moment, eyes locked, before Fornell resumed their conversation. "Can I speak with Parson now? If she has survived Gibbs' interrogation, that is?"
"She's in the lab right now, I believe. Actually, Gibbs told her to get some sleep, but she didn't look like she'd follow orders."
"NCIS has already rubbed off on her, I suppose," Fornell said, raising. "Thanks for the drink."
"You're welcome. Do I get that we're working together on this now? Otherwise I'd have to deny that I ever saw your agent at NCIS."
"No need to blackmail me, Director. I want to know what's behind this as much as Gibbs does. I'm in."
"Good. Please follow me to Hacker's Den," Jenny said, leading the way out of her office.
---
McGee squeezed his eyes shut as they took the last turn into the dead end. When the sedan screeched to a halt in front of the parking garage he opened them again, thankful that the torment was over. While he understood the need for speed he wanted to live as much as he wanted to find Tony and Ziva.
When McGee got out of the car Gibbs had already disappeared into the parking garage. McGee hurried after him, arriving just in time to see Gibbs entering the janitor's room right behind the barrier. "Coming, McGee?" Gibbs called without turning. McGee caught the door just before it closed in his face and rushed in. Gibbs was already flashing his badge to two men sitting in front of several monitors showing different views of the parking levels.
"Special Agents Gibbs and McGee, NCIS. We're searching for a black Mercedes which came in around 1430 today. McGee?"
While McGee reeled off the details known of the car, Gibbs stared intently at the layout of the parking garage pinned on the wall, gathering information about emergency exits and rooms that could possibly be used to hide something or someone.
"This parking garage belongs to a well-frequented shopping mall, Agent McGee," one of the security guards was saying as his focus shifted back to the most pressing problem – finding the car to get a clue where to begin the search for Tony and Ziva. "I can't even remember which cars have passed the barrier two minutes ago. If you're lucky you may find your car on the security cameras' footage. We have five parking levels, so it'll take quite some time to find the car you're searching for, I'm afraid." The man seemed to be genuinely sorry.
"Well, if the car is still parking here, your cameras would be covering it, wouldn't they?" McGee said.
"That depends," the other guard answered. "We don't get every angle of the parking levels. Well, I know the management claims the cameras to cover every square inch, but you shouldn't feel too safe in here. We once had a mugging right in front of a camera and we didn't notice anything because it was in a blind spot. Cost a lot of money to make the victims keep quiet, I tell you ..."
"Sure the blind spot wasn't you?" Gibbs asked. McGee sighed inwardly. Trust Gibbs to piss people off just because he was too damned impatient.
The guard was pissed off immediately. "Suit yourself," he said curtly, vacating his seat in front of the monitors and inviting them with a gesture to take his place. "It's black and white only. Just you know a lot of cars appear to be black."
"Thank you, Mr. ..." McGee said, already staring at the first monitor.
"Simmons," the security guard said gruffly. "I'm going to get some coffee."
"Tall, black, no sugar," Gibbs said absently, earning an incredulous stare from three pairs of eyes.
---
Kristin Parson looked like she'd fall asleep any moment, but her fingers seemed to fly over the keyboard on their own account. Every now and then she sipped on the Caf-Pow! Abby had given her. Abby was sure she had no clue what she was drinking – it was either that or it evidenced that Abby's long-held theory about only geeks being able to appreciate Caf-Pow! wasn't just a theory anymore.
"That's it," Parson stated suddenly, rubbing her tired eyes. "The security camera in your bullpen has been manipulated eight weeks ago. Look at that – you can see it wasn't me!" she said, sliding her chair to the left to make room for Abby who slid in place with hers.
"Strictly speaking it could still have been you. You could have manipulated our data again just to make it look like the camera was tampered with before you entered the picture." Abby turned to look at her face. "But hey, I like you. I know Gibbs tells us never to assume anything but he also believes in his gut. So I'll believe in mine and assume you're telling the truth. Does this make any sense to you?" she asked expectantly.
Seeing that the woman beside her had obviously no clue what she was talking about, she answered her own question. "No, it doesn't. Never mind. Just find Tony and Ziva and we'll be friends," she added.
"What's he like?" Parson asked.
"Gibbs?" Abby looked at her curiously. "You've got a very good impression of his usual ... behaviour when he interrogated you, I think. Well, he can be sensitive and caring ..."
"Tony. I meant Agent DiNozzo," Parson managed to interrupt. Abby noted with interest that she was blushing slightly
"Oh," Abby grinned. "I understand. Tony ... You know, he can be sensitive and caring. He's fun to have around. Mostly." She thought for a moment. "He's smart and tough and a very special agent ..."
"... and he's completely nuts, Agent Parson," Fornell interrupted. "I would like you to concentrate on Agent Ashen instead. Agent DiNozzo has a whole harem to look after him."
Both women turned around to see Tobias Fornell and Jenny Shepard standing in the lab door. Kristin Parson rose slowly, staring at Fornell. "Sir?" she said tentatively.
"Nice to meet you again, Parson," Fornell said sarcastically. "Care to explain what you were doing recently?"
---
"Boss, perhaps the car is parked outside," McGee said after half an hour of staring at black, white, and every shade of grey cars, squinting at the license plates without getting anywhere.
"No, it isn't," Gibbs replied, taking a sip of his coffee without looking away from the monitors. McGee had been glad that Gibbs had at least managed to thank Simmons for bringing it. "Don't ask, McGee. I didn't see it when we arrived," he added.
McGee doubted that he would have been able to identify a car even if he hadn't shut his eyes when pulling into the street, but he knew better than to question the Boss' observing skills. "Then we'll have to watch the security footage," he sighed. "As if I hadn't seen enough of this today," he mumbled to himself.
"No," Gibbs stated. "We haven't got the time to watch every damned security tape in DC. Have an agent bring them to Abby. I want you to look at the building's layout and tell me where those blind spots would be!"
Gibbs was already standing in front of the large poster showing the layout. "Where are the cameras?" he asked the security guards.
McGee stood beside him brooding in silence while they were shown the location of the cameras. "This mugging – where did it happen?" he asked suddenly.
"It was right here." Simmons marked the spot with his index finger. "It could have happened on each level."
Gibbs had followed McGee's train of thinking. "Get moving, McGee. We're gonna look into those blind spots." With that Gibbs rushed out of the room, leaving McGee smiling apologetically at the two guards. Flipping his cell phone open he turned to follow his boss.
---
Fornell saw Sciuto frown at Shepard. Kristin Parson was nearly asleep on her feet, and from what she'd just told him he could imagine why. Growing more and more uncomfortable with the ongoing op, she had decided to dig deeper last night, finding some details his superiors had conveniently forgotten to tell her. Thinking about what to do next, she'd decided to stay under the radar until she'd figured out how to approach the matter. She had been very concerned for DiNozzo's safety, and she had desperately tried to contact Mark Ashen.
"I didn't know they were keeping you out of the loop until yesterday," Parson explained. "By the time I'd decided to fill you in, things were getting out of hand completely." She stared down at her hands for a moment. "We'd lost Mark already and then I lost DiNozzo too. It was too much to be just a coincidence. Someone is messing with that op. Or more likely, someone wanted this op to fail." She looked up, searching Fornell's face for any sign how he was taking this. Fornell seemed unfazed. Finally he spoke.
"We've been played, Parson. And we have company," he said, tilting his head in Shepard's direction. "FBI and NCIS both had a lead into that organization, and now we have nothing but missing agents. Just before a really big deal is about to happen. I tend to go with Gibbs on that. It's got nothing to do with coincidences."
"Someone wanted us to be occupied with finding our agents rather than mess with the Hunter organization. They even went so far as to keep one agency busy with monitoring the other on this case," Shepard said ironically. "I'd say whoever is responsible for that is doing a very good job – the question being whether this person is with NCIS or with the FBI."
---
Ziva's hands jerked back when she felt Tony beginning to stir. Relieved that she'd been able to finish her task just in time, she moved to kneel on his other side, watching his face. His eyelids fluttered and he moaned softly. "Ziva," he said hoarsely, eyes still closed.
"I'm here," she answered, laying her hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes reluctantly and tried to clear his blurred vision.
"You okay?" he asked, searching what he could see of her for any visible injuries.
"As okay as you are, I think," Ziva replied, eyebrows raised. "Oh no, don't try this," she said warningly when Tony struggled to draw himself up. Tony immediately knew what she'd meant when the nausea washed over him. He felt her hands holding him while he threw up.
"Sorry," he said, embarrassed, seeing Ziva's disgust. "At least I only dreamt about that pizza," he added, accepting the bottle of water Ziva handed him.
"Let's get you away from that ... stink," she said. She helped him to get up slowly. Tony faltered as pain threatened to overwhelm him. They moved awkwardly to the far end of the room which wasn't nearly as far as Ziva wanted to get away from the stench.
"You're not okay," Tony stated once they were seated on the ground, scanning her worriedly. Ziva let her head rest against the wall and closed her eyes. 'Just for a moment', she thought as exhaustion tried to take over. She winced when she suddenly felt a cool hand on her forehead. "Burning up," Tony murmured. "Your scratch seems to be infected, Ziva. And there are quite a few bruises, I guess ..." He swallowed. "Ziva, I'm ..."
"Don't, DiNozzo," Ziva said tiredly. "No bones broken. It just hurts. And you got beaten up just as badly, from the look of it." She waited. Silence fell.
"Are you going to tell me what this was about?" she asked finally, glancing sideways at her brooding co-worker. She was a little annoyed at herself because that question hadn't come out as casual as she'd intended.
"I would if I knew," he answered, grinning slightly. "Bet this bothers you more than the bruises, Ziva." His grin got wider when he met her gaze. "Spygirl isn't happy right now, is she?"
He could definitely read her. Too well. Ziva snorted derisively anyway. "You can keep your pathetic little secrets to yourself, DiNozzo. Why should I be interested in something I got beaten up for?"
"Hey, I told you I don't know what they wanted," Tony said. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. I don't even know what they were talking about!"
"So you tell me. Then what did you not say that made them so mad at you?" Ziva asked, eyebrows raised.
"Ziva. I. Don't. Know." He sounded upset now. "There's no secret I've been keeping from you about this. I tried to invent a good story, but they obviously didn't buy it. Look, I know I never should have gotten you into this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ziva. I didn't ... " He suddenly rose and stumbled over to where he'd been lying. When he'd finally stopped vomiting he braced himself against the nearest wall, panting. "I counted. It was ... too much." His voice was barely audible.
"Tony." Ziva sighed. "I don't care how many times they hit me. I'm alive. I'm your partner and I decided to come with you." He didn't move. Ziva watched him trying to regain his composure.
After a while he looked up, meeting her eyes. For once there was no pretense, just honest DiNozzo. Those moments were still rare but came up more often recently. It was like he was tired of playing his usual games and wanted to relax into just being himself.
"So you invented an undercover op for them? What did you say?" Ziva said casually, trying to bring him back from his guilt trip.
There was a mischievous glimmer in his eyes when he started to make his way back to his place beside her. "It was a funny story after all. I'd tell you, but laughing hurts," he said, grinning. He sat down again, trying to find the least painful way to sit against the wall without putting pressure on the bomb. "You ready?" he started.
"Once upon a time there was a great agent in shining armour ..." Ziva didn't even get the end of the second sentence. By the time he was finished, her head lay on his shoulder. She was snoring. Again.
---
McGee had called dispatch for another two agents. One was on his way back to Abby with the security tapes. The other - Agent Hershey - had just found the car on the lowest parking level. McGee had waited for Gibbs to open the trunk. He had been afraid to find the bodies of ... No. It was empty. Leaving the car with Agent Hershey to process as a crime scene, Gibbs made for one of the four exits, gun drawn, signing for McGee to cover him bevor he opened the door.
---
The door opened with a bang, startling Ziva out of her nightmare. Tony was roughly pulled to his feet and his hands cuffed behind his back. He was pushed towards the door where Mr. Creepy stood with his gun trained on Tony's head. "Don't try anything," he hissed.
Tony watched helpless again as their captors manhandled Ziva up and to the door. "Move," Mr. Creepy commanded, pushing them into the hallway. With the two henchman behind him and Ziva they were forced through another door and out into what seemed to be a backyard where a white van was waiting, motor running. Ziva cried out when she hit the metal floor of the van. Tony was dumped beside Ziva. As soon as he'd landed painfully on his stomach he heard the doors shut and the van started to move. 'Not again,' was what he thought as he fought the need to throw up again.
TBC
