Chapter Break
Sachs and Fornell arrived at NCIS at eight o'clock and noticed everyone was working except for the one person they needed to see. "Where is he?" Sachs asked.
Calmly, Gibbs stated, "He gets here when he gets here."
"Not exactly the military way of doing things."
"Tony's not exactly military," Ziva returned, disliking Sachs more and more with every meeting.
The FBI agents waited; Sachs took up residency behind Tony's desk, looking around it and wondering if this guy did any work. The expression on his face was one of disdain and Ziva wondered how he came to hate Tony so. They barely knew each other.
Fornell lingered next to Gibbs' desk, and although Ziva couldn't make out their conversation, she knew it was about her colleague.
"We don't have enough to hold him, but if we present all the evidence that we do have, I know a judge that would issue an arrest warrant."
"He didn't betray this country, Fornell."
"How do you know? You said yourself he hasn't been himself lately, coming in tired and sleeping all day. How do you explain that?"
"I can't, Tobias, but I know he didn't do what it appears he did. Sometimes in an investigation, not all is at it appears."
"Profound. You think I don't know that?"
"Then back off DiNozzo and let us find out who did this."
Fornell understood the protectiveness in his NCIS counterpart; although he had to admit that there were few FBI underlings that he could call family, there were some that he'd go to the mat fighting. He looked over at Sachs, still rummaging through DiNozzo's desk like he was going to find something. He looked up the stairs and noticed Leon Vance walking down them, no doubt wanting answers.
He entered the bullpen and said, "I've got some bad news."
Gibbs looked up. If he was tired of hearing bad news he didn't let on.
"The files that were breached and sent to Afghanistan dealt with one of our navy aircraft carriers headed for the Middle East. There were vessel specifications, personnel files, and inventory files in the data. Everything that anyone needed to know in order to spot a weakness in our ships." Vance looked around and noticed one key member was missing. "Where is he?"
"He'll be here, Leon." Frustrated, he reminded everyone of one simple fact, "You're not even sure that it was DiNozzo on the video. Hell, anyone could have put on an Ohio State sweatshirt, stolen DiNozzo's ID and entered the building disguised as him."
Sachs asked, "Does DiNozzo have the skills necessary to hack into your NCIS computer and pull off that computer thingy that Agent McGee was describing?"
While Ziva marveled at his lack of vocabulary skills, Gibbs deferred the question to McGee with a single stare.
"Uh, well, Tony does have some computer skills, but they usually deal with creating profiles and changing parameters on video games."
Vance saw a cover up when he heard one and stated, "That's not the question, Agent McGee. Could Agent DiNozzo have duplicated the server in such a way as to send that information out?"
There was no ducking that direct line of questioning, and no fooling Director Vance. He had witnessed some pretty mad computer miracles at the hands of his director which even he couldn't explain. He finally stammered out, "Well, I suspect that, umm, he probably could do those things. BUT I know Tony, and he would never do those things." He felt like a first year probie again with the looks he was getting from everyone, even Ziva.
"Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby said, scurrying around the corner. McGee was never so thankful for the interruption.
"What?"
"Gibbs! I have something interesting to show you," she said, only hesitating when she saw the group of angry eyed men staring at her.
"What is it?" he said.
"Well, I've been running every kind of test imaginable on Tony's blood and I found something hinky." She picked up the remote and pushed a line chart to the plasma TV. "Remember the other day when Tony came in and he was hyper, like he'd drunk a dozen caf-pows? Well, I—meaning Palmer—managed to take some more blood from him. I accidently ran a test twice, one that I had already run earlier, testing for hallucinogenic medications and other recreational drugs. I didn't mean to run it twice; it just happened with all the tests I was trying to run. Anyway, the first test came out normal, but the second time I tested his blood, the test came out positive. Look what's in his blood." She highlighted the word Temazepam.
"What is it?"
"Temazepam, brand names Restoril and Normison, among others, is an intermediate-acting 3-hydroxy hypnotic of the benzodiazepine class of psychoactive drugs."
"What?"
Vance answered, "It's a psychotropic drug."
Fornell asked, "Didn't he tell you that he'd taken some over the counter energy boosters and drank enough coffee to galvanize an elephant?"
"Yes, and there they are," she clicked the remote and additional lines shot up the chart. "That's why I was able to discover this."
Confused, the team gathered around the screen. "What are you saying, Abby?" Gibbs asked.
She turned to face her audience, "I'm saying the drug Temazepam is in Tony's system and has always been there. It's detectable when used alone, but undetectable when combined with the more common drug, Chlorizine. However, when Tony took the over the counter black-beauties and drank a boatload of caffeine, it essentially broke down the chemical composition of the Chlorizine, leaving traces of Temazepam behind. Don't you see? Tony's being drugged!"
The questions swirling around Gibbs' head were too numerous to articulate, but he never got a chance to postulate anything because his phone rang. When he saw the name, his stomach churned. Flipping it open, he said, "DiNozzo, where are you?"
The others waited. Although they couldn't hear what Tony said, by the expression on Gibbs' face, it wasn't good. They heard him tell Tony, "Don't move. Stay where you are, I'm on my way."
Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge, and ordered, "Get Ducky on the phone. Tell him to meet us at Tony's apartment."
"What happened?" Vance called after him.
"I'll fill you in on the way."
Chapter Break
Tony dropped his phone on the table. He could barely make out what was happening in his head. His mind was a mass of mud and his body would barely work for him. The only thing that was clear to him was that he was covered in blood and there was a dead man on his floor. He wanted to throw up.
He tried to remember what had happened, but he had no recollection of anything. The murder weapon was lodged deep into the victim's body and blood continued to gush onto his carpet. He, himself, was covered in blood but it was anyone's guess as to whose blood: his own or that of the dead man. He noticed his gun next to his phone on the table. He looked away from it but something was compelling him to pick it up. Whatever was controlling him was powerful. He picked up his Sig, expertly calibrated to fit perfectly in his hand. And it felt good there. He felt good holding it. He had one more job to do, one more person to kill.
He dropped his arm, hoping the gun would fall out, but it didn't; instead, he kept a solid hold around the grip. Gibbs would help him figure out what was going on. He just had to wait. He pointed the gun at his own head, then away, feeling the sudden need to vomit. He made it to the bathroom, sweat pouring off his face, but there was nothing in his stomach to purge. From a distance, he heard the pounding on his door. "DiNozzo!" It was his boss calling out his name. The final chapter in this insane book was coming to an end.
The voice soothed him, then unnerved him, and then soothed him again. Things were coming back into focus. He stood still in the hallway, holding his gun down at his side, waiting for a moment in time that he didn't know could ever be.
The door burst open and Gibbs rushed in to the right, while Ziva rushed in to the left. Gibbs saw the man on his floor immediately, then looked up and saw Tony standing in the hallway, aiming his weapon directly at him.
"DiNozzo, put the gun down."
Only to Tony, the man talking was not Gibbs. The man ordering him to put his gun down was the traitor.
"Lower your weapon, DiNozzo," Gibbs said staring down the barrel of the pistol.
Ziva held her gun steady, her training forcing her to exact a kill shot, but her heart telling her not to. McGee also held his gun steady, observing the look in his colleague's eyes. The same look as before, only much more dangerous and steady.
Gibbs inched closer to the dead man, "I'm just going to check for a pulse."
Tony almost laughed out loud, for a pulse was never going to be felt. The man was dead, for he was a traitor too, and if his death had been at his own hands, so be it; after all, he was very adept at killing.
Gibbs kept one eye on Tony as he knelt down. No pulse, but still warm. Very recent death. Carefully rising, he repeated, "Tony, he's dead."
Tony took a step forward, into the light and Gibbs immediately knew this wasn't his Anthony DiNozzo. The man occupying Tony's body was a merciless killer. He'd seen that expression before, and if he wasn't able to get through to his agent, this Tony would soon be dead, effectively killing his Tony. "I'm going to lower my weapon. How about you do the same?"
By now Tony was staring down the wrong end of five guns, all individually selected by their owners to exact the perfect shot. For some reason, he didn't care. "I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"I have to kill you," he stated, matter of factly.
Ziva and McGee tightened their grip as did Fornell and Sachs. Gibbs shot them a warning, "Don't shoot him!" he hissed. He specifically located Sachs and saw his finger already poised, "Sachs, I'll kill you if you pull that trigger."
The FBI agent suddenly became aware of the drama and how this was much bigger than him. He also became acutely aware that Gibbs was a man of his word. He slowly removed his index finger off the trigger.
Gibbs returned his attention to his senior field agent and said, "You said you have to kill me, why?"
Tony acted like it was a dumb question, "Because I have to."
"Like you killed him?"
Tony licked his lips trying to remember. "I don't remember killing him."
"That's because you didn't. Put your gun down and let's figure out what's happening."
"I can't do that," he said, sounding confused, but steady.
"Listen to me, Tony. You've been drugged." Gibbs said this while lowering his own gun. "It's been going on for quite some time now."
Tony shook his head, "No, I feel fine." His words were almost robotic.
Gibbs knew time was running out and he had to make Tony understand. "McGee! Fornell! Sachs!" he stated, getting their attention. "Lower your weapons. Director Vance, lower yours too."
"Can't do that," Sachs toned. Aiming higher to ensure a bullet through the head.
"Stand down, Agent Sachs," Fornell ordered.
Gibbs waited another minute before he said, "See, Tony? We're not here to hurt you. We just want to get to the bottom of this. But we can't unless you drop your weapon."
Only Ziva held her gun steady, watching intently for a flinch, a muscle twitch, anything that would indicate that he was going to shoot, and then she would fire first.
"I have to kill you. You're the traitor."
Gibbs cocked his head, now they were getting somewhere. "Did you breach the NCIS files?"
"No, you did. You sent them the specs for the aircraft carrier. I saw you do it."
"No, that wasn't me." Gibbs looked down at the dead man, recognizing the baseball cap. "Tony, do you know this man?"
"No."
"He works in your building."
"I don't know him." The clarity of the situation was slowing dissipating. What seemed so clear a minute ago wasn't anymore. "Boss?" Tony asked, as if seeing him for the first time.
"Yeah, Tony, it's me. Put your weapon down and we'll talk."
Tony looked at his gun, almost shocked that it was pointed at his boss. He began to lower it when his mind cleared up again, and he saw the traitor before him. Returning it to eye level, he said, "Nice try, but you're the one betraying this country."
"Steady, Ziva," Gibbs whispered. "Next time."
Ziva understood and relaxed her shoulders, a technique she had mastered early on in her firearms training.
"Tony, listen to me. You're being drugged. The dead man only pretended to work in this building as a maintenance man. And he didn't work alone; there was another man with him. Do you remember him?"
Tony looked down at the dead man, flashes of his face danced on his eyeballs but he couldn't place him. He remembered that there were always two men wearing baseball caps and dark blue shirts working around the building. They started months ago. They were always pleasant to him, always around when he got home. "Stop trying to confuse me. You're the person who must die!" Before he could fully raise his arm, flashes of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, his mentor, his superior, his friend, came into view and the reality that he was pointing his gun at his boss became surreal. And it horrified him.
Appearing to be coming to his senses, he looked sickened. "I'm sorry," he stammered, embarrassed at his action, but unable to rectify the situation. As if someone else were controlling him, his arm remained straight and his hand loose on the pistol grip. Then, for some reason, they watched as he moved the gun off of Gibbs and turned the barrel towards his own head, his eyes pleading with his boss to help him.
"Tony! Don't do that! You fought it this long, keep fighting."
"I can't, Boss. There're here, every night. I can't sleep. I can't think…I can't…"
Clarity invaded his mind again and the gun swivelled back towards Gibbs.
Vance echoed what everyone was thinking, "You'd better think of something fast, Gibbs."
Just then Gibbs decided to take a different approach, "Special Agent DiNozzo! Stand down, now!"
Tony jerked his head up at the sound of his name.
"Do you understand my orders, Special Agent DiNozzo? I said, Stand down!"
It was apparent that the man was struggling with voices in his head and having some sort of internal battle over what to do next. As the sweat dripped off his brow, he looked from Gibbs, and back to the body on the floor and over to Ziva. "I'm sorry, I can't—" Swiftly, he turned the gun back towards his own temple.
The blast filled the room, echoing inside the walls of the one place they never thought one of their own would fall.
TBC
I'm hoping to wrap this up next chapter. Thanks for all who've been sticking with it! ~Jasmine
