Chapter 10
"So, what's missing?" Fornell asked at long last.
Abby stood back with her arms crossed. Gibbs and Ziva had brought her back at Fornell's request for someone – anyone – who knew more about DiNozzo's apartment. "Several suits, most of his shoes and other clothing, his toiletries kit. I hope we get that back. He'll freak if we don't. It was expensive and it was a gift from his grandmother."
"Anything of moment?"
"Depends on what you mean," Abby said. "His passport and bank documents are still in his desk, but the pictures of Tony's mom and his grandma are gone from the dresser, and three of his DVDs are missing."
"Which ones?"
Abby shrugged and walked out into the living room. "I don't know, but Tony is anal about keeping them neat and there are three holes in the rows." She gestured at three narrow gaps, and Gibbs nodded, pursing his lips. He had noticed them, but he hadn't thought anything of it.
"Put that together with the destroyed photographs, and it paints a very disturbing picture," Ziva said.
"You think?" Gibbs replied.
"What photographs?" Abby asked.
"Team pictures," Ziva said. "And one of Tony with you at some concert somewhere."
"Why would he destroy those?" Abby asked.
"Because he's a possessive, jealous psychopath who thinks we're a threat," Gibbs replied absently, forgetting who he was with. McGee would simply have nodded his understanding.
"We are a threat," Ziva said in a low, hostile voice.
"Damn straight," Abby added. Gibbs agreed with both sentiments, but he could see a couple of Fornell's men looking slightly alarmed by their bloodthirstiness.
"That's not the kind of threat I meant," Gibbs said mildly.
Ziva shrugged, but Abby turned abruptly to Fornell and took the FBI agent by the tie. "You will find my Tony!" she ordered firmly. Then she released him and turned towards Gibbs and Ziva. "I have to go back to work. Ziva?"
Ziva's brows went up, but she nodded. "I will drive." Gibbs watched them leave together in perfect amity with raised eyebrows. Abby was going to let Ziva drive?
"Are they taking my SUV?" Fornell asked after they were gone.
"No, I drove Abby here and Ziva brought a car from our lot," Gibbs said. "Are you done here?"
"Personally, yes. The evidence team will be busy for a while."
"Can you drop me by the Navy Yards?"
"Sure."
Fornell and Sacks walked down with him, and once they were all in the SUV and on their way, Fornell cleared his throat. "So, Gibbs, I still don't have a clear idea of what this Harris guy wants from DiNutso."
Gibbs shrugged. "He's abducted him, what more do you need to know?"
"What would make a decorated cop turn off the straight and narrow like this?" Agent Sacks asked from the backseat. "It seems like a big departure."
Gibbs was aware of Fornell giving his subordinate an irritated look, but he turned back to Gibbs almost immediately. "I'm sorry, Gibbs, but motive can be really important in cases like this one. It just doesn't make sense."
Gibbs pursed his lips. DiNozzo was going to kill him for letting this out to Sacks and Fornell, but the other agent made a reasonable point. "So, Tobias," he said. "Would it make more sense to you if it was Ziva he'd taken rather than DiNozzo?"
"Well, I could see the . . ." Fornell trailed off and Gibbs wondered if they were going to hit the Cadillac stopped at the light in front of them. The SUV came to a sudden stop and Fornell turned to him. "You aren't serious?"
"He's been stalking DiNozzo for weeks," Gibbs said.
"You only asked for my help on Wednesday."
Gibbs grimaced, guilt surging in his gut. "I only realized it on Tuesday. He's been sexually assaulted before, twice this week in fact, but DiNozzo was trying to deal with it himself."
"Are you saying he's been raped?" Sacks demanded. Gibbs gave Fornell a look, and the other man nodded. When Sacks started to ask the question again, Fornell silenced him with glance.
Both the other men were quiet the rest of the way to NCIS. Gibbs simmered, acid churning in his gut. DiNozzo had been with the bastard for hours now. There was no knowing what had happened since he'd been driven away in that car.
"Here we are," Fornell said. Gibbs popped the lock and got out of the SUV. "We'll find him, Gibbs," Fornell said as Gibbs turned to shut the door.
"Oh, I know, Tobias," Gibbs said with a confidence he was not about to let flag. "I know." He turned and walked back into the Navy Yards, showing his ID to the gate guard as he passed. They had nothing to follow. No leads to chase. Nothing in Harris' house, nothing in DiNozzo's apartment, nothing in the financials – nothing led them in any specific direction.
When the elevator doors opened on the squad room, all heads turned. When they saw him, all the heads turned away again instantly. Gibbs marched toward his desk, ignoring the people who were ignoring him. Ziva was on the phone, and McGee was rising slowly behind his desk. The emptiness of DiNozzo's desk felt like a gaping hole in the bullpen, but dwelling on that wasn't going to find the man.
"Boss, how are you doing?" McGee asked, and Gibbs turned on him.
"How do you think, McGee?" he demanded. "And just how are you doing?"
"Boss, I –" McGee faltered. "You were hurt. And I just know you've got to be taking this hard."
"The question, McGee, is how is DiNozzo doing? Do you have an answer for that one?"
"Not well?" McGee ventured worriedly.
Gibbs put a lid on an explosion that had nothing to do with Timothy McGee and barked, "Get back to work, McGee!"
The young man sat back down with alacrity, and Gibbs was about to take his own seat when a sharp voice from above caught his attention. "Agent Gibbs!" He turned. Jenny stood at the railing just outside MTAC. "With me!"
There was a light in her eyes that promised information, and he took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time. By the time he'd reached her, she'd bent to the retinal scanner. He followed her into MTAC, where she sat down and handed him her cup of coffee. "You look like you need it," she said.
"What have you got, director?" he asked urgently.
"Sit down, Jethro," she said. He took a seat impatiently, and she picked up a file from the chair beside her. "These are the results of a more intensive background check of Detective Lieutenant Brody Michael Harris."
Gibbs took the folder and flipped it open. There was the information he'd already seen, the man's schooling and family history, his early years on the force, then a note that stunned him into furious immobility for about three seconds. "Son of a bitch!" he growled. "Eliseo Vargas?"
Jenny nodded. "Eliseo Vargas," she repeated.
"And yet they say he's straight?" he asked incredulously.
"The CIA has been watching him for the past eight years since they uncovered the connection, and so far he's done nothing that suggests otherwise. Eliseo Vargas simply sends the man presents on an irregular basis."
"You don't get presents from a man like Eliseo Vargas for nothing, Jenny," Gibbs said intently. "A drug czar, a smuggler, what the hell isn't he?"
"We don't know, we haven't been able to pin anything on him solidly yet," she said. "Though there are indications of connections with the Taliban these days."
"What is Harris' connection to him?"
"That's the puzzle," Jenny said. "As near as anyone can tell, Harris has not done anything illegal on Vargas' behalf. There doesn't appear to be any way of accounting for it."
Gibbs scanned through the correspondence that the CIA had collected and there was nothing to provide a clear explanation. Then he got to the CIA profile and he stared at the page in front of him in growing wrath. "They knew."
"Nothing concrete," Jenny said. "Nothing prosecutable."
"As if they would have given a damn," Gibbs said in a voice so quiet that it almost hurt his throat. "If they thought he was a key to bringing Vargas down, do you really think they would have balked at a rape or two? Or even at murder?"
"The important thing is that this gives us an idea of where Harris might be taking him."
"We have to let Fornell know about this immediately."
Jenny glanced at him. "I don't have permission to share this with the FBI."
Gibbs stood up. "That's your problem," he said, and he left MTAC with the file in hand. When Jenny failed to call him back, he took it for permission and called Tobias.
"Not now, Gibbs, we've got a lead on the car."
"Call me back. I've got other information."
"Got it." They disconnected and Gibbs walked through the aisle between his team's desks. "Ziva, McGee, with me."
They followed him to the elevator and down to Abby's lab. She was working frantically to a driving rhythm of drums and noise. McGee strode over and hit the pause button on her stereo. She looked up, eyes wide. "What is it? Have you found him?"
"No, but we have additional information." He handed the file to Ziva, open to the CIA report. Her eyes scanned the page and her reaction was as strong as his had been.
"Eliseo Vargas?" she spat. "Why did we not know of this?"
"Who is Eliseo Vargas?" Abby asked, and McGee nodded, his confusion clear.
"A drug ninepin," Ziva said. "A smuggler and weapons dealer, but he is slick."
"Kingpin," McGee said, and they all turned to him. "A drug kingpin," he said.
"That is what I said," Ziva replied impatiently, and McGee gave up.
"So, what's his connection to Tony?"
"It's his connection to Brody Harris we need to ferret out," Gibbs said. "They've been friends for years, but even the CIA is stumped as to what their connection is."
Ziva narrowed her eyes. "And you believe that Brody Harris is trading on his friendship with Vargas to help him get away with Tony." Gibbs nodded. "Then we will trace it," she said. "I will call some of my contacts."
"What have you got, Abby?" Gibbs asked, looking at the information on her computer screen.
"Agent Sacks called me with some vehicle information. Said something about my getting results faster than his guy at the bureau."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I've only been on it for a couple of minutes, Gibbs. I hung up a second or two before you came in."
"Get back on it," Gibbs said. "What is it?"
Abby set back to work with a will. "They found the Sonata," she said. "Tony's pants were still in the trunk, if you can believe it. Someone dumped it near the river on Jefferson. "They're bringing me some fingerprints, but I guess the forensics guys at the bureau are getting them, too."
"Keep me –"
Ziva let out a string of curses that no one in the room understood. Ducky was just entering. "Language, my dear," the doctor said mildly.
"Close the door, Duck," Gibbs said, and Ducky complied, looking puzzled. "You just found the profile, didn't you, Ziva?" he asked.
"'Harris' relationships with men demonstrate a clear escalation from manipulation to intimidation to outright control by physical domination,'" she read aloud. "And here, 'With straight men, he approaches them at times of weakness and, using a combination of influence and coercion, he persuades them into homosexual relationships, afterwards preying on their fear of exposure. He selects his victims with care, choosing men who will risk more by reporting him than by allowing him free reign.'"
"Are you saying they knew he was a stalker?" Abby demanded.
"There is a list of his 'partners,'" Ziva said. "Tony's is the last name. According to this, they started their relationship approximately three weeks after the La Granouille thing exploded."
Gibbs nodded. That made sense, but it also appalled him. That meant Harris and Tony had been seeing each other for four months. Four months of an unhealthy relationship escalating into . . . he clenched his teeth. "Find out what his connection to Vargas is, Ziva," Gibbs ordered. "McGee, find out what you can about the gifts that he's received from Vargas. Look for patterns. Abby, let me know if you get anything."
"Yes Gibbs," she said. Ziva and McGee scattered, taking the file with them. Gibbs followed at a more sedate pace, striving to control his own inner turmoil.
Ducky caught up with him at the elevator. When he made no move to select a button, Gibbs shrugged and pressed the button for the squad room. Ducky reached out and hit the emergency stop once they were in motion. "This is not your fault, Jethro," he said firmly.
Gibbs closed his eyes. "Oh yeah, and how do you figure that, Ducky?" he asked.
"Anthony is a grown man fully capable of making his own mistakes. You are not responsible for his every –"
"Tony spent four months with that man, Ducky," Gibbs said. "Four months during which he was subjected to intimidation and rape. And I didn't notice anything until three weeks after he'd broken it off because the bastard hit him for going to a concert with Abby. How is that not my fault?"
"You know for certain that he was raped?" Ducky asked.
"That's what it's called when you say no and your partner tells you to shut up and then uses his sheer size to force you to go along with it anyway," Gibbs said.
"My God, Jethro! Did Anthony tell you that?"
"Yeah," Gibbs growled. "And he blames himself for not being more forceful with his refusal."
"Anthony should know better," Ducky exclaimed.
"Yeah, he should," Gibbs replied. He glanced at Ducky. For all of the man's perception, Tony's masks fooled him, too. Tony was having enough of his privacy stripped away today, though. Gibbs wasn't exposing him any further if he didn't have to. He hit the emergency stop again and the elevator jolted into motion.
"Poor Anthony." Ducky looked up at him. "You will get him back."
"Is that a question or a statement, Duck?" Gibbs asked absently as he started out of the elevator.
Ducky caught his arm. "It's an order, Jethro." Gibbs looked at Ducky's resolved expression for a moment, then nodded, accepting the order as given.