As the sedan sped away from the bank, Gibbs allowed himself a very brief moment of remorse. Rarely one to second-guess his own decisions, this time Gibbs sighed and found himself thinking, Stupid, Jethro. Very stupid. You should have just taken a chance and shot the bastard. It was probably worth the risk. Knowing that wallowing in guilt would not improve the situation, the lead agent shook his head and addressed DiNozzo.

"How ya doing?" He knew that Tony tended to get carsick even when he wasn't injured, and his senior field agent had already turned an alarming shade of green. "You gonna be sick?" Not that there would be much Gibbs could do if the answer was yes.

Eyes closed, Tony kept his head as still as he could against the bouncing of the car. "I might," came the weak response, punctuated by a cough. "But I'll try not to puke on you, Boss."

Gibbs couldn't help but chuckle dryly. No matter how bad he felt, Tony was always Tony. He seemed to have rallied in the last few minutes even though he was undoubtedly in a lot of pain. Gibbs made a mental note to tell DiNozzo exactly how proud he was of him, once they got out of this mess.

The lead agent had strategically placed himself behind the driver's seat, so that he could make his move once they got far enough away. However, he didn't know how far that might be – some remote detonators had a range of several miles. Gibbs didn't want to attack the gunman while they were still within range and risk setting off the bomb at the coffee shop. He would have to be patient and hope that an opportunity presented itself soon.

Bossman kept his gun in one hand and the detonator in the other as he steered. He sped through the streets as fast as he could, dodging other cars and leaving a slew of furiously honking drivers in his wake. Unfortunately for his hostages, traffic was light this time of day so he was able to get much further - and go much faster- than he would have during rush hour.

Gibbs kept a close watch on DiNozzo as their captor drove wildly across town. The younger man had become paler than seemed possible given his olive complexion, but he impressed the older man by continuing to remain conscious. Tony also somehow managed to keep from getting sick, and his boss had suffered many concussions himself so he knew that must have been quite a challenge.

A very long ten minutes later, the car careened to a stop inside the huge garage of an old warehouse. Gibbs tensed and prepared to make his move when he saw Bossman staring at him in the rearview mirror.

"Try anything and DiNozzo gets it." The gunman's voice was quiet, but the gun aimed at the younger man drove his point home. Gibbs started a little at Bossman's use of his agent's name. What had Tony done to deserve a personal attack? He knew better than anyone what a pain in the ass the senior field agent could be, but his gut told him that in this case there was more to it than that.

"Out of the car. Now." Bossman indicated the interior of the abandoned warehouse with a quick jerk of the gun.

Gibbs glanced over at Tony, who appeared shaky but determined. "A little help, Boss?" the younger man asked softly, as he swallowed hard to keep the nausea at bay.

Gibbs got out of the car and quickly walked around to the other side. Watching the gunman out of the corner of his eye, he bent down and carefully put one of Tony's arms around his shoulders and his own arm around the injured man's waist. He felt a swell of pride as DiNozzo made it to his feet with a minimum of assistance. The younger man clearly wasn't about to show their captor how much pain he was in if it could be avoided. Gibbs continued to provide support for Tony as they moved slowly toward the room Bossman indicated, their captor's gun pressed firmly into the lead agent's back.

Following the armed man's barked instructions, Gibbs situated Tony against a wall in the tiny storage room before sitting down himself. The floor was filthy and the air smelled stale. There was one window very high up, next to the ceiling, but it wasn't anywhere near being large enough for a fully grown man to fit through even if they could have reached it.

"Tie him up," Bossman ordered, handing Gibbs a zip-tie.

The lead agent knew that Tony's wrists were already raw and bleeding from being bound earlier. They had been bandaged by the paramedics, but blood was slowly seeping through the white gauze. Gibbs opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when Bossman once again turned his gun on DiNozzo.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Gibbs whispered as he tied the younger man's wrists together once more, being careful to put the plastic tie over the blood-soaked shirt sleeves and keep it as loose as he could without risking their captor's wrath. Despite his boss' gentleness, Tony couldn't completely stifle a whimper of pain.

"Good boy!" The gunman's mocking tone infuriated Gibbs. "Now it's your turn. First empty your pockets." Bossman found and removed Gibbs' backup gun from its ankle holster before destroying the lead agent's cell phone and pocketing his knife. The gunman then tucked his own weapon into the waistband of his pants so that he could tightly bind Gibbs' hands with another zip-tie.

Satisfied, Bossman viciously belted Gibbs across the face before standing up and leaving without another word. There was a loud thud as he bolted the heavy door behind him.

The lead agent tasted blood as he slumped against the wall, momentarily dazed. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, and once focused he noticed DiNozzo looking at him worriedly.

"You okay, Boss?" Tony was beginning to slur his words again, a clear indicator that his earlier adrenaline rush was wearing off. The lead agent was honestly surprised it had lasted this long given the severity of Tony's concussion.

Gibbs snorted. "Better than you," he said gruffly, in an attempt to mask his concern for the younger man. He swiped his bound hands across his mouth to get rid of the blood trickling from the corner.

"What now?" In addition to pain there was now a note of defeat in Tony's voice. He coughed lightly a few times before continuing, "He can't possibly think that NCIS will pay a ransom demand. What good will holding us do?"

Gibbs didn't have an answer for that. He sighed. "I wish I knew."

DiNozzo leaned his head back against the grimy wall. "Tired," he admitted softly.

While Gibbs had let Tony doze in the presence of the EMTs, now that they were away from medical personnel he was reluctant to let a man with a severe head injury go to sleep.

"I know you are, but I need you to tray and stay awake, okay? Can you do that for me?" Gibbs' voice was soft. He squeezed his senior field agent's shoulder gently. "I'm worried if you go to sleep you may not wake up."

"Mmmm." DiNozzo's eyes had drifted shut.

"Tony." Gibbs shook the younger man's shoulder. "Tony! Stay with me." He tried a different tactic. "Hey! Come on, don't pass out on me."

That got the reaction the lead agent was looking for. The green eyes opened and Tony even managed to sound somewhat indignant. "DiNozzos do not pass out," he asserted weakly.

Gibbs smiled. "I know they don't. You hang on, okay? We're going to get out of this." He decided to try and keep Tony talking. "What happened in that bank? Do you know this guy?"

"No…don't recognize him…" Tony spoke very slowly and quietly.

Something occurred to Gibbs. "I don't suppose you still have your cell phone?"

"Don't know…can't…remember…" DiNozzo's head lolled forward for an instant before he jolted himself awake with another cough. He looked around for a minute, obviously confused. "Where are we…? Boss?" The senior field agent's eyes had regained their previous glassy appearance.

"It's okay, Tony," Gibbs kindly reassured the younger man. "I'm going to check your pockets and see if you still have your phone, is that okay?" He hesitated to do anything without DiNozzo's permission, given his current state of confusion.

"Okay?" The response sounded like a question but the small accompanying nod seemed to indicate agreement.

Gibbs knew it was a long shot that DiNozzo might still have the cell phone, and sure enough, a thorough check of Tony's pockets revealed that it had been taken. So had the knife that Tony kept hidden in his belt buckle.

The lead agent sighed and scrubbed his uncomfortably bound hands through his hair. Truth be told, he had absolutely no idea how they were going to get out of this. Gibbs could only hope that Lieutenant Keller had apprised Ziva of their situation. Protocol mandated that the director of NCIS would automatically be notified, but Gibbs trusted Director Vance about as far as he could throw him.

If Ziva knows, then she and McGee will find us. Gibbs knew that as surely as he knew that he and DiNozzo were not going to die. Not like this. Not here in this dirty, stinking hole. If we are going to die, we'll do it on my terms, Gibbs thought fiercely.