A/N: So...long wait. Yep.
EDIT: The site took all my story breaks out, which means all my scenes began to run together. Grr. I have gone back and added this- ~line~ -to indicate a break. Sorry for the confusion...
Captive
"Boss...I brought you more coffee."
Gibbs' head snapped up. McGee stood before him, holding out a large paper cup from the team's usual place. He held a second in his other hand, presumably his own.
"Thanks, Tim." Gibbs accepted the drink and took a long sip, sighing. He glanced at his watch. Past one in the morning, for the second day in a row. "Has Abby found anything?"
McGee shook his hand, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "No. It's a dead end, they're all dead ends!" His voice escalated and he collapsed wearily into his desk chair.
Gibbs waited a moment, trying to quell his disappointment. "What about Ducky?"
"The body is a woman..."
"Is that all?"
"That's all so far, Gibbs!" McGee sighed and stood, hanging his head. "I'll go help Abby. She's probably drowning in Caf-Pow by now."
"We'll find him, Tim."
McGee froze. Gibbs' voice had been so low he almost believed he'd imagined the promise. But when he turned, the older man was staring directly at him.
He couldn't bring himself to respond; desperately, he bolted for the elevator.
The doors opened before he could push the button, revealing a very somber Israeli woman.
"Ziva!" McGee gaped. Behind him, Gibbs stood up.
Ziva stepped forward. "Any news?" she asked softly.
McGee had enough doubts to keep his mouth shut. Ziva's face registered hurt when she saw this, and she turned her gaze to her former boss.
"I know what has happened. I want to help."
"Absolutely not," Gibbs said firmly.
"I may be the only one who can!" Ziva exclaimed, her voice cracking. They noticed then that her eyes were red. "This is all my fault!" She sank to the floor and curled up against the wall.
McGee glanced over his shoulder as Gibbs stepped up behind, nodding at him. Silently, Tim slipped through the door to the stairwell, leaving the other two alone.
Gibbs sat on the floor next to the younger woman.
"Ziva--what happened?"
She didn't have to ask what he meant.
"When you returned to D.C. with the Director and Tony, I was angry. I was not thinking clearly--I see that now, but I did not then. My father wanted to send me on an operation in Michael Rivkin's place. I accepted; I would not have been allowed to refuse. Our mission was to expose a terrorist cell in Somalia..."
~line~
Hidden deep in a terrorist cell...
The first time Tony woke, he thought he must be dreaming. He opened his eyes but saw only brown and black blurs, indistinct shapes that were speaking in a language he didn't understand. Maybe it was just that his brain didn't seem to be moving at a normal speed.
A hospital smell was everywhere, but Tony didn't remember getting hurt and this didn't feel like Bethesda.
Gibbs...
Agony shot up his shoulder and he screamed, slipping back into unconsciousness...
The second was a much more lucid awakening.
He came to realize he was propped up in a hospital-like bed, but the room around him looked nothing like a hospital--dirty brown walls and a dirt floor underneath were the only clues to location.
There were no sheets on the bed, but Tony didn't need them--his sweats and T-shirt were sticking to his skin in the heat. The Ohio State sweatshirt was gone.
An IV drip was attached to his left arm, and he began to reach over to pull it out. His wrist wouldn't move, and it took a foggy moment to realize his wrists were chained to the sides of the bed. His legs were similarly pinioned at its foot.
He swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry.
Think, Anthony. What happened?
The chase. The shooting. The crash. It came back in a sudden rush.
He could only assume he'd been captured by whoever had been pursuing them, which was undoubtedly very, very bad.
A dull throb reminded him that he had likely sustained extensive injuries from the car wreck. Upon observation, he discovered that his right shoulder down to his elbow was heavily bandaged, and his left knee was in a cast of some kind. There were holes in his pants and dried blood discoloring the surrounding material.
He shifted--and his legs were on fire. A surprised yelp escaped before he could stifle it.
A door opened behind the bed.
"You are awake." A man appeared. He was of Middle Eastern origin and looked fairly unintimidating, but he carried the air of a man in charge.
Tony tried to speak. "Who--are--you?" His voice was rough and he licked his lips impatiently.
The man laughed. "You know nothing about me, but I know everything about you, Agent DiNozzo."
"Oh?" Tony managed.
"Yes...I have taken a particular interest in you, Anthony. And in your friend--Miss David. Yes, she and I grew very...acquainted...over the summer."
Tony drew in a breath, struggling to control his flaring anger. "Who are you?" he repeated.
"My name is Saleem," the man said, beginning to circle the bed.
"What do you want?"
"Oh, I think you know the answer to that." Saleem seized Tony's injured shoulder and twisted. The other man could not help crying out, and Saleem laughed, a malicious gleam in his eyes. "Generally, I prefer my visitors be unharmed when they come to visit me...but I suppose there was no alternative in your case...and this will make things much more interesting..."
Tony gritted his teeth and blinked back tears of pain.
"Eli David hired you, then?" he asked evenly, unwilling to give the other man the pleasure of knowing how much pain he was in.
"The Director pays handsomely," Saleem said carelessly, tracing his finger along the bedrail as he circled slowly. "But he is a foolish man who believes I am obsessed with pain. My real fascination is the human body." Suddenly, he was in Tony's face. "How long do you think you will last, Agent DiNozzo? I hope it is for a while; we have time." He backed away. "Of course, you could make this easier by answering the questions I ask of you. For example...how do you think your friend Ziva felt when my men made love to her?"
Tony pulled fruitlessly at his chains, lifting his upper body away from the pillows.
"You bastard!" he shouted.
Saleem backhanded him across the face and he flew backward, face stinging.
"Yes, we will have fun, Agent DiNozzo. I can see that now. Especially when your ex-partner arrives to save you..."
"She knows not to come," Tony said confidently. "She'll know it's a trap."
Saleem shrugged. "Perhaps...perhaps not. In the meantime, you are going to have to learn the rules. You like movies, don't you, Tony? Rule one: We have ways of making you talk. You will learn to cooperate. Or you will regret it."
Tony's blood ran cold and he watched helplessly as Saleem left the room, leaving him alone--captive.
A/N: Please note that the way I developed Saleem's character is not necessarily the same way as was seen in "Truth or Consequences." He is not OOC; this is simply AU.
