A/N: Some more bad words.
Beta: Mike91848 Thank you
Disclaimer: See past nine chapters, nothing has changed.
CINDERELLA Revisited
Chapter 10
Well, well, Antoney, the traitor, DiNozzo was at my front door. It's like family reunion week. What next, the bitch and the alcoholic? I'd commit suicide with that rusty, dull knife of Ziva's before that ever happened in my lifetime.
"Are you alone? Usually when Anton pays me a visit, he brings his own company, and it's not for a cup of coffee and a Danish!"
"I'm not Anton, Tony."
"So what the hell do you want? For the last time, my kidneys are not up for sale!
I was pretty harsh and I was ready to slam the door in his face to get rid of him. I had a horrible thought. What if he's like Morris Townsend in The Heiress, pounding on that closed and locked door, watching the light go out and seeing the riches and prestige he so coveted disappear with the hateful revenge of a scorned and spurned woman. So what did that make me, Catherine Sloper?
It all boiled down to... conversation. We talked. He explained some things that I guess I was wrong about or forgot about. Didn't know he had come looking for me. Matter of fact, he had just missed me by days; all these years wasted...regretful.
He thought his mother was a bitch, too. We drank some beers, well he drank his and then mine, and we were trying to figure out who these guys were his mother had sicced on me.
Then, all hell broke loose. When a bullet whizzed by my head just after I bent over to rub my bruised knee, in my own home, I hit the floor and dragged Steve down with me. God damn it to hell!
Now, I was no rookie cop and I guess this wasn't Steve's first time around the block either because he practically snatched the 9 mil I got from under my couch cushions from my hand and was checking the chamber for bullets before I could say, can you shoot?
He was crawling right behind me when I reached up the wall and switched the main lights off, then grabbed my Sig from the drawer and picked up the landline from the table, no dial tone and my cell phone was lying on the sofa.
"You military?" I whispered.
"Sorta," he whispered back. What did that mean? Well, at least I had some backup relative that could do damage to someone else other than me.
The tinkling of more breaking glass in the living room, then something hitting the floor with a swoosh had both of us covering our mouth and noses with the throw blanket off the sofa against the stinging dense clouds of smoke and stinging vapor of teargas. Steve was bent over coughing.
"Follow me!" Staying low, I started crawling to the hall door which led to the basement. When Steve followed along clumsily I realized he didn't know the layout like I did so I grabbed his shirt sleeve and roughly pulled him along.
"Come on, damn it!" Still crouched down to the floor I shoved him ahead of me just as the front door burst open and two people dressed in black camouflage with masks and guns made the mistake of breaking into my house. There was a full moon and with the door open, we could see their backlit silhouettes perfectly.
Steve shot the one aiming his gun at me in the chest but from the sound of the bullet striking, I knew he was wearing a bullet proof vest plus, he was still standing, so I aimed lower and he got a gut wound as the other idiot made a hasty retreat out the door into the moonlit night. Gut wounds were a nasty way to die. Weren't these clowns forewarned that they were breaking into a cop's house?
The wounded guy writhed on the floor, while I pushed Steve along the hallway to the door leading down to the basement. Pounding feet from the back indicated at least three or four more assailants headed our way so I pulled the door open and let Steve proceed me down the stairs before closing and locking the door.
Bullets struck the re-enforced door as I ran down the stairs only to stumble on Steve who was splayed out on the bottom step on top of a broken bicycle I had thrown down there in disgust after the spokes had broken while I was trying to ride it.
What...had the guy passed out, hit his head, shot? That door wasn't going to hold forever so I helped Steve to his feet and dragged him to the hidden door under the stairs. Once inside and the door secured I turned on the dim light and asked "what the hell's the matter with you? Were you shot?"
"Nothing's wrong with me except tripping on your damn freakin' bicycle at the foot of the stairs! Who keeps a bicycle at the foot of the stairs like that in the dark, damn it? I think I broke something!"
Well, he had a temper, hot and quick, like mine, mad then it was over. Not like Anton's temper that simmered, bubbled and then boiled over and spread on everything in its path like lava, singeing and sparking.
"Quit whining, you'll live if a bullet doesn't put you out of your misery first." I reached for the cell phone I had pocketed on our hasty retreat from our family reunion and dialed #1.
"Yeah, Gibbs! What'd ya want, DiNozza?" Well, that's a change, I woke him up.
"HELP! Gunshots fired. At home. Am in the tunnel, come quick!" Was all I could get out before the perps started banging at the door. Obviously, this door wasn't as secret as I thought it was.
Steve looked pastier in the gloomy half-light of the single bulb overhead than his ghostly brother Anton in the dead of winter, probably because of the cut in his hairline and the
dribble of blood down his forehead, but his voice was rock steady when he said that these guys weren't playing around and they acted like they wanted me dead, not a hostage. No shit! The absurdity of this whole scenario was...just absurd. A front deadlocked door, a re-enforced basement door, a hidden door, to keep these bozo's away from us, and yet, they hadn't taken off yet.
Steve glanced at the door that was not going to sustain that amount of pounding for long. "I guess they found the door." Yeah!
"I can walk. Does this tunnel lead somewhere?"
I turned off the overhead light and switched on the flashlight and started at a fast trot through the underground tunnel which only ended a short distance away, actually across the street from my house, in the woods about 50ft north of the pond.
Mr 'I can walk' wasn't doing that well. I grabbed a hold of his shuffling self and we moved along at a faster clip through the dank, damp tunnel to the end where a metal ladder enfaced in the side of the dirt wall led up to a small enclosure that led to an opening semi-blocked by a fallen down iron grate. The area was covered in vegetation so the entrance couldn't be seen from the outside.
We clambered up the ladder, good thing it was just a five foot climb, because, in spite of what McGee says, I wasn't the hulk, and this guy wasn't a lightweight. He managed to get himself up with a little help from behind and I climbed up after him and shoved the rusted iron grate blocking our exit out of the way. Crawling and scrabbling, we got through the dead foliage to see moonlight again. I grabbed him around the waist and we headed out into the woods to the nearest copse for some cover.
Steve tripped over a stump but we managed to stay afoot as we finally hunkered down in the dirt behind a big burly tree and some overgrown bush. I turned off my flashlight and we waited. Steve breathed heavily once then was quiet beside me as he turned around to face the opening and hefted his gun on a stump.
I set my bead on the entrance too. "You think they're still after us? They'd be nuts to think you haven't called for backup." Steve had found a dark handkerchief from somewhere and wrapped it around his head, Rambo style. Talk about being nuts!
"I already know they're morons because all I'm remembering right now is a bulldozer blitzed my living room and there's smoke and fumes stinking up the pure air humidifier, and, there's probably a dead body in the entryway along with blood and guts all over my carpet as we speak. And Gibbs is gonna make me stay at his house until my place is fumigated because, according to Ducky, I have to take care of my very sensitive lungs! Somebody's gonna have to pay for all that!"
He turned to look at me like I was the crazy one and, the bullshit coming out of my mouth but before he could call me on it, another person dressed in black came out of the opening and started running to the left. "NCIS, drop your weapon," I yelled and took aim but Steve had a better shot and when the perp turned his semi-automatic on us, he didn't hesitate to take it. He put a bullet somewhere in the guy's anatomy probably his head because the guy went down without making a sound and didn't move again.
Impressive shot in the dark but moonlit night. Wouldn't it be a coincidence from hell if both he and Gibbs had been...no, my mind boggled at the thought.
Someone started shooting from inside the dark cavern and two more men tried to make a run for it. No wonder they kept coming our way. They weren't after us anymore they were trying to get away from the army that was chasing them.
They slid to the ground and tried to cover each other's back as one would run while the other reigned bullets from an automatic weapon into the opening. Return gunfire and flashes of light were coming from inside the cave but no one could get out without getting shot trying. One of the guys hurled another teargas bomb inside and during that distraction they both got up and started running.
Had the idiots forgotten we were still out here?
"NCIS, drop your weapons!" I yelled as I stood up with my gun in position. They were desperate and started shooting. I had no choice but to use extreme force. Steve, standing next to me, fired also. One man went down and the other one dropped his gun pretty quick, went down on his knees and raised his hands. SWAT swarmed out of the tunnel hole like locust. I repeatedly yelled, "NCIS, don't shoot," and held my gun aloft as did Steve. Friendly fire was not a good thing.
Local law enforcement finally figured out what street to turn up and cars with red lights flashing and wailing sirens encircled the area surrounding us throwing up gravel and dirt and tires squealing and all around controlled chaos.
Too late guys, actions over, I thought as I hauled the last remaining dirtbag to his feet and used the handcuffs McGee threw at me. Ziva had gotten Steve in some kind of body hold and he was putting up little resistance, oh yeah, cause he was more than enjoying the rough treatment from a beautiful woman as she roughly manhandled him, spread-eagled him and finally handcuffed him. I didn't disavow her of the notion as Gibbs walked up and took command just by his presence alone.
"You okay?" His blue eyes bored into me then he transferred his scary gaze to the black-faced painted, camouflaged, dark clothing of the unfortunate I held prisoner beside me.
"Yeah." I said as I handed the miscreant over to Agent Miller from NCIS backup team. The LEO'S standing nearby eagerly waiting walked away in disappointment. It seems one of these guys had shot up one of their fellow officers pretty badly in their escape attempt.
Ziva was about to do the same with Steve when I told her to cut him loose, he was with me. She got irate because I hadn't told her that in the first place, I could see it in her face and she was that close to arguing with me. I just stared at her, challenging her to defy me at this critical point, when she thought better of it and turned to obey my order.
"I didn't tie him up, I used handcuffs, Tony." Was all she could come up with as she released him.
We all trooped back into the secret passageway, me, the team, Steve, who I was dragging along on his bad ankle, and seven or eight LEO'S who it seemed were more fascinated by the cavern than anything else. I was going to have to seal the thing up now that everyone knew about it.
There were two dead guys in the woods, one dead guy in the house, one prisoner and five perps, where was the other guy. I warned everyone there had been another guy who went out the front door when this had all started. Did they catch him? Or he could still be in the house. Thank goodness my tenants were gone for a week to Mexico visiting family.
The police searched the house, under the beds and closets, anywhere a man could hide. Hopefully he was still running with his tail between his legs.
Finally, the police left and all that remained was the team, Steve and I, and Director Vance who had joined the party. NCIS Miller sent two of his agents back to the navy yard with the prisoner and the rest of his team secured the outside. Ducky and Palmer got the three bodies ready for transport. Then there was the broken pottery, windows and doors, smoke damage and bullet holes.
Ducky tended to Steve's head and ankle and said it was sprained not broken but needed wrapping and he needed to stay off of it for a few days.
"How did this happen, young man?" asked ever curious Ducky.
"Some idiot threw me down the basement stairs and didn't warn me that there was a broken bicycle down there. So, of course, I tripped over the broken bike since it was dark and my foot got tangled in the spokes of that same bicycle and I hit my head and twisted my ankle."
There was a moment of silence. That's the thanks I get for saving his life.
"So, who's your friend, DiNozzo?" The Boss was curious, too.
We had moved into the den to get away from the noise of the workers boarding up my broken windows and door, and the industrial size fan going full blast dispersing the toxins outside.
"Yeah, ah, everyone, this is my other estranged brother, Antoney Steven DiNozzo, Steve for short, who it appears, also has some mental problems." I glared at him for calling me an idiot.
"Director Vance of NCIS, my boss, Agent Gibbs...and I introduced the rest of the team including Ziva who Steve surreptitiously eyed up and down, in short order and gave them a sit-rep and how Steve had become involved.
Everyone turned to stare at Steve who sat on the couch with his foot elevated on a leather stool. He looked...tough, my younger brother, sitting there with a day old stubble, messy hair that was cut and styled like mine, lighter than mine but darker than Anton's straw, and a small bandage on his forehead to complete the picture. His eyes had that hazel green hue typical in DiNozzo's. Handsome guy, yeah we favored each other, like brothers.
Steve cleared his throat and told those waiting avidly for an explanation. He told them about the conversation he had overheard between his mother and some guy named Kohls. Ralph Kohls. He said he got a nervous feeling in his gut; at which point, everyone turned to look at Gibbs, before turning back to Steve, and that he flew his plane here to warn me. He said we had been talking and suddenly people were shooting at us through the window.
"Steve thinks it's about my grandmother's property, possibly a right of way, that his mother bargained a kidney for. The DiNozzo's have plenty of money to buy a kidney, so obviously these people wanted something other than money."
"I read about plans for a new casino in Vegas being put on hold due to a land dispute. Could be one and the same. Boss, I need to get back to the office..." said antsy McGee, anxious to get to his computer.
"Yes, and I'm obligated to notify the FBI." Spoke up Vance on his way to the door.
"The FBI has been looking for this ring involving illegal buying and selling of organs. Sorry, DiNozzo's, Tony, Steve, but how your mother got your nephew to the head of the line is also going to be of interest to them. It appears that someone is on the take or, we'll give them the benefit of the doubt, being blackmailed or coerced. I'll see you back at the office. Gibbs, if you need to arrange for protection detail for those two, you have a go."
It was going to be a long night.
Steve used my phone to call his private security company and arranged for a couple of men to guard the house twenty four hours until repairs were made. Ducky and Palmer left with the bodies and took McGee with them.
We piled into the car. Gibbs drove, Ziva in the front, Steve and I in the back seats.
"You know, Boss, those guys were dressed right, had the right weapons, had the place covered well enough, but something was off. Why shoot through the window like that? They lose the element of surprise.
"Then they come through the front door right into an ambush. The guys in the back are slow getting in and then they spend time breaking down doors instead of taking off once they missed their first objective.
"Yeah, taking you dead or alive?" Steve contributed.
I gave him a dirty look. "They have to have known back-up was on the way. It doesn't make sense. What's your gut telling you, boss?"
"My guts telling me that we've got a tail, maybe two!" Said Gibbs as he entered the freeway and sped up. I took a look but Gibbs had the advantage of rear view mirrors. I couldn't see the cars from the back seat. Steve, next to me, didn't bother to look but asked me for my cell phone and dialed some numbers.
"Gibbs, it could be my bodyguards in one of those vehicles. When I left the estate, I told them to meet me here but they had to catch a commercial flight and were only just arriving when I spoke to my second an hour ago."
"You have a bodyguard?" Ziva asked as she turned around suspiciously in her seat ready to interrogate him. "Who are you?"
He had his ear to the phone and didn't answer Ziva, instead started talking to the person on the other end. "Tell me you're tailing me!" he demanded. Then repeated what his second was telling him.
His men were two cars behind a van that was tailing us two cars behind and it looked like they were trying to maneuver to cut us off at the next hilly curve. Steve told them to maintain their distance until the other vehicle made its move. I took my phone back and called McGee.
"MCGEE!" I yelled into the phone.
"Tony, you're not going to believe this!" He yelled back excitedly. "You need to get back to the office now. There's a..."
"MCGEE, send backup now!" I interrupted, "Weapons fired, need backup!" I gave him the location I knew Gibbs was taking us and hung up. Better to be prepared and have backup show up with guns drawn.
Gibbs sped up again as I clung tighter to the strap, hoping I didn't lose what little bit I hadn't eaten for dinner.
"Why do you have bodyguards?" Gibbs repeated Ziva's unanswered question while watching the road. "Any chance they're after you, not Tony here?"
"Look." Steve explained as he looked behind, "I'm the CEO of a Fortune five hundred corporation. DiNozzo Corporation, Et Al. I use the name Stephen Gregory outside of business just so as not to draw attention to myself. The bodyguards, well, it's the company's idea and it's a necessary evil."
"So, lil bro? What are the chances these guys are after you, after all, and not me, hmmm? Did you bring this crap to my door?" I wasn't kidding. What else could possible happen tonight that had nothing to do with me.
"Because, 'big bro', I don't believe in coincidences. These guys didn't have to come to the middle of no God damn where in the boondocks, in the middle of the night to shoot me to death and then, what? Collect a ransom for the return of my dead body? No sense, man, it makes no sense."
Screeching behind us, and there was no more time to talk. There were fewer cars on the road and the driver in the dark van sped up to our left alongside our car and attempted to ram their reinforced front end into the left rear door trying to get us to spin out of control.
The car skidded but made it around the curve on two wheels and Gibbs sped up again with the van on our heels. We all had our guns out but were unable to use them yet. The bodyguards were still behind, waiting for Steve's signal to move in.
Gibbs spotted the off ramp he was looking for that led to a dead end street and an abandoned strip mall and he exited at 190 miles an hour so that the guys chasing us couldn't keep up the breakneck speed.
Some homeless pedestrians walking aimlessly, a mangy dog with a long rope around its neck chasing a ten pound rat, and the lone open-for-business liquor store that was enclosed in chain link fence, inside and outside the store, were the only company we encountered in our mad dash to impending death.
I gave up the fight, rolled down the window and vomited my stomach contents onto the gutter. Steve sitting next to me was jaundice green and holding his breath. Ziva was in her element up front while Gibbs pressed harder on the accelerator.
"You guys okay back there?" Gibbs falsely solicited.
The van caught up to us and figuring out they couldn't beat Gibbs in driving skills, started to roll down their windows for plan B. Neither Ziva nor I could get in a shot around Steve who had his head in the way and Gibbs, the insane driver.
When gun barrels appeared through the cracks in their windows, Ziva yelled GUNS and Gibbs applied the brakes so hard, our car fishtailed and the rear end left the ground while the brakes burned and stank. But the car slowed down and the van left us in the dust. Steve still managed to put a couple bullets through the crack in the window and there was yelling inside before the windows were rolled up again.
The bodyguard's silent, creepy, vampire-bat dark, four wheel drive vehicle slithered up alongside the van on their left and I swear the van reared back and shuddered in shock before trying to make a U-turn back to the freeway to get the hell out of there. The bodyguard was relentless in keeping that from happening and forced the van to the right and into a vacant, overgrown tall weeded patch of land.
Now the van was in the lead, followed by the bodyguard vehicle from hell, and us. I didn't know how long the undercarriage of this car was going to hold up before we all fell out through the hole ripped open in the bottom like a can of sardines.
Except for Gibbs, of course, who would keep up by running along inside clutching the steering wheel while his feet moved piston-like at 150 plus miles per hour on the ground like Fred Flintstone on Speed. Damn him!
The bodyguard kept up a steady stream of gunfire into the body of the van but at this point they weren't trying to do much harm, just keeping the van occupants stirred up.
The weeds were denser and the van had nowhere to go. Besides that, two of the tires had been shot out by the bodyguards and gas was leaking from the ruptured fuel tank. The driver came to a stop with the van facing us sideways.
Men came out of the van's sliding doors and they took up position behind the van. The bodyguards slithered out of their vehicle also, I don't know, five or six men? I scooted out with a thank you God sigh of relief and took protection behind my open door. Steve followed but stayed on the phone with his men. Gibbs and Ziva were hunkered behind their doors also.
"NCIS! Drop your weapons, you're surrounded!"
"Fuck you! You drop your weapons!"
So. We're at an impasse. I can see from my position, some of the bodyguard slipping into the vegetation taking up positions behind the enemy. Steve hands me the phone. It's McGee who says they're five minutes away from where we went off the road. I told him we were at a standstill and to come in quiet unless there was gunfire. Maybe we could get out of here with no more dead bodies for Ducky, theirs or ours.
Gibbs had repeatedly told these guys to drop their weapons and give it up. His voice was calm and non- threatening, imagine him of all people acting as the negotiator. But so far, nobody was firing their weapons.
A few minutes later and McGee was hunkered down at my side.
"Whatcha got, McGee?" The boss called back to him.
"Boss, there's a million dollar ransom on Tony's head. It's the Vegas land. With him dead, the estate comes out of probate and frees up the property..."
"WHAT! These guys are bounty hunters?" I can't believe this.
"It was that guy Kohls, Boss. The FBI has him in custody. Right now, he's stark raving crazy screaming for his lost investments and something to do with 'wanting to run the greedy lying bitch's head over with his car. They think he hired two teams to come after you, Tony."
"Anything else, McGee?"
"Uh, that's it right now, Boss. We've got Miller's team as backup and the FBI sent a team."
"Good work, McGee.
"LISTEN UP, BOUNTY HUNTERS. WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE. YOUR EMPLOYER'S LOCKED UP IN THE FBI'S LOONEY BININ A STRAIGHT JACKET SPILLING HIS GUTS AS WE SPEAK SO THERE'S NOT GONNA BE ANY PAYOFF. NOW LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER SO WE CAN ALL LEAVE HERE TONIGHT ALIVE.
"OTHERWISE, THE SPECIAL FORCES BEHIND YOU, THE SWAT TEAM IN FRONT OF YOU, NCIS AND THE FBI CAN ARRANGE THAT YOU LEAVE HERE, NOT ALIVE!
"WHAT'S IT GONNA BE? LOCKED UP AND BREATHING IN A SQUAD CAR OR FLATLINE AND DEAD IN A BODY BAG?"
When he put it that way, the perps finally showed some common sense and threw down their weapons. These guys weren't even real mercenaries; just a group of rag-tag criminals gathered from here and there, who never worked together before. Not like Steve's team who as one, made it back to their vehicle without anyone seeing or hearing and disappearing into the night.
But not before Steve got on the cell phone with his second who tried to persuade him to leave with them at which point Steve told him to pick him up at NCIS later today and hung up. Probably had some more questions he needed me to answer so he could get on with his life. Things were never that simple.
Later that morning, back at the Navy Yard, Timothy McGee finally finished imputing the last of the information on this crazy case and waited to see if his other searches were completed. Earlier, and bleary eyed after being up all night, he had come back from the men's room and found Tony sitting at his desk throwing a pencil in the air.
Ready to ream his partner out, he took a closer look and realized it wasn't Tony. The man had on a fresh green striped shirt that Tim recognized as Tony's but it was his look-alike brother Steve that had commandeered his desk. But instead of having to resort to physicality's and figurative arm wrestling with the guy like with Tony, Steve jumped up right away and excused himself for his error. He said he thought Tim had gone for the day.
"Nope, still here. Probably won't get to go home 'til...well ever today. I understand Kohl is still babbling nonsense but if he contracted with anyone else, then Tony's life is still in danger. So, I'll be here until we know for sure. Well, as sure as we can be with that nut."
"So, you're the genius who finds all the hidden things? Tony said you were better than all my resources combined, and I believe him."
Tim paused reaching for his eye drops, and studied the man who had now claimed Tony's unoccupied chair. Now that he got a drop or two of 'false tears', he noted the resemblance was just superficial, Tony and Steve weren't carbon copy look-a-likes. Which was a good thing. Two Tony's was one too many!
"Thanks. I've always been fascinated by the use of an electronic device in storing and processing data in binary form. You do realize that according to instructions given to it in variable programs, it has the potential to be man kind's best friend or worse enemy. I know this is cliche but..."
Well, the man's eyes hadn't started to roll back in his head, yet, actually, he looked interested in what Tim was saying about his love of computers. Unlike Gibbs who would have frowned in consternation after the word electronic. And Tony, he would have been ready to lob a spitball into the senior field agent's gaping mouth to stop the snoring. Not that Tony wasn't up to date on computer jargon he could carry his own weight. It was McGee's opinion that he did it so that Gibbs wouldn't feel like such a techno dinosaur.
"Sorry, it's been a long...what, two days with little sleep so I tend to..." Tim justified his long-windedness.
"No, please, computers, always a fascinating subject to me. The programming part especially because it's a subject I haven't been able to master myself."
McGee eyed the other man somewhat cautiously. Matt Simmons had been full of complements, too. That was the man's modus operandi; woo and charm the women, ego stroke the men, and if all else failed, ply them with money and favors. He hadn't fallen for the smoke and mirrors routine but he was worried about Abby. She was still in denial, had to be. She was stubbornly overlooking Simmons deception, and claims made by coworkers of fraud and abuse. She was still irrationally mad at Tony.
So now, Tim was wondering. This is the brother of the guy whose best friend went ballistic and threatened to kill the senior field investigator. Was he another 'goat changing clothes'? Or no, he didn't get that feeling and he was going to go with his gut on this.
"How come, no time?" Tim could think of no reason why he would never find time for his computer.
"Busy with other things that..."
And seeing nosy DiNosy and Gibbs getting off the elevator, Tim leaned over and faux whispered,
"That you can't really talk about, I understand."
"Understand what, McGee? What can't he talk about?" Tony took the bait but only halfheartedly. He went to his desk and dumped some folders then gestured to Steve.
"Come on, come on, up, outta my chair. Go grab the chair at the spare desk behind the boss. I'm beat. Where's that Ninja with the food, anyway. How come she's not back yet?" Tony whined as he leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the open drawer and closed his eyes.
"She just left, DiNozzo." Said Tim dryly. "Next time go yourself."
Eyes still closed, Tony made a mocking face at Tim as he turned back to his computer when it dinged. Steve was on the phone and it sounded like he was talking to his bodyguard. Gibbs had just gotten a summons to Vance's office and he hit the bottom of Tony's feet when he passed his desk.
"Wake up, DiNozzo." He ordered mildly in passing, no real heat behind his words then pointed to the other DiNozzo. "You. Stay here!" And he continued up the stairs.
"Just resting my eyes, Boss. I'm awake."
Tim sighed, no news they didn't already know about Kohl's found on that search. Steve approached Tim smiling lopsidedly.
"He's pretty bossy for a Boss, huh McGee? I've got a business to run and it's pretty hard doing it from here. Plus, Georgie is getting a little antsy waiting around for me without him actually seeing me. You think Gibbs will let the man come up and see for himself I'm okay?"
"Georgie?" Asked Tony, obviously not asleep.
"Yeah, it's George Salters, but he hates the actor jokes. Actually, he gets pretty mad at the comparison, so I wouldn't make any if I were you Tony."
"...Salters, what...?" McGee didn't get the reference.
"Peppard, you know, the A-Team, Breakfast at Tiffany's?" Said a more animated Tony who had opened his eyes and sat up. Tim retained that 'what are you talking about' look.
"You see what I have to work with, Steve? Not only is he not versed in the classics but Mr not McMovie-trivia here can't even be counted on to recognize and duly idolize the superheroes of the day."
"Oh come on Tony. Not everyone had the luxury of watching movies in their room for endless hours of..." Steve abruptly stopped talking and he looked at Tony with hooded, sorrowful eyes. "Sorry, Tony. I didn't mean..."
And suddenly, the bullpen turned cold, unfriendly. Tony stood up abruptly.
"I'm sure you didn't, Steve. Still, the fact of the matter is, the bitch caught me on the stairs in my unfortunate one moment of not keeping one eye on my surroundings and I ended up with a leg broken in two places..." Suddenly mindful of where he was and listening ears, Tony turned to McGee and asked for an update. Could they leave or not?
"Uh, yeah, just waiting on offshore accounts search, anyplace where Kohls hid money that he could use to finance other bounty hunters, but so far, nothing has..."
Tony just shook his head and left, headed towards the men's room even as Ziva got off the elevator with the food.
Ziva placed the cloth bags on her desk and turned to Tim. "What is going on? Are there more Bounty hunters?" Why did she always have to be on a food run when something happened?
Tim frowned at Steve, rudely but unintentionally ignoring Ziva's question. "The Bitch? Pushed him down a flight of stairs?"
Grimacing with distaste and running both hands through his hair, Steve explained, "Yeah, my mother, the bitch! Pushed him down a flight of stairs. He was laid up with a cast for a while and couldn't do much moving around. So he was stuck in bed with only his class work and books to read. Our servants got him a TV and hooked it to a VCR and got him a subscription to order VCR tapes through the mail. He..."
Steve ran out of words to describe the piercing screams disturbing the secretive quietness of that sick household. When he ran out from the playroom to see Tony lying broken at the foot of the stairs, clean linen and a book strewn about him and his mother walking down the stairs gracefully unconcerned, he knew immediately what had happened. Even then, he knew.
Tony had been doing his chores instead of being in the playroom with them, his rightful place, and had gotten distracted reading his book on the way up the stairs while delivering the clean linen to an upstairs closet.
Unbeknownst to Tony so engrossed in his book, Angela grabbed the opportunity of Tony's distraction, and waited at the top of the stairs only to pounce and push, with all of her considerable strength, the boy who flew backwards down the stairs to the bottom with a broken leg and bumps and bruises to show for his lack of vigilance.
He heard his mother's nonchalant, "that boy is so clumsy," as she passed him on the stairs and went to her tea room where her best friend Annie and the other ladies were standing in the open door having heard the commotion.
Her total lack of remorse or empathy as the boy lay screaming on the floor, he understood now, was a classic sign of her sadistic, psychopathic narcissism. He stood by as usual and watched silently as Tony was rushed to the hospital by the private ambulance the servants had called.
"Where's Tony?" Gibbs voice interrupted Steve's memories. Gibbs trotted down the stairs with Vance following behind.
"He's getting coffee, I think. What's going on, Boss?"
"Where's DiNozzo, McGee? Vance questioned impatiently as he stood by Ziva's desk. Gibbs was collecting a folder from his desk drawer that Tim knew contained the video of the Matthew, Tony fight and all the documentation and witnesses reports.
"I'm right here, Director Vance. What's going on?" Tony had returned with vending machine cup of coffee in hand.
"You tell me, beforehand, DiNozzo. Do I need to get security up here? It seems that Matthew Simmons is suing NCIS, me, you and several others for his wrongful termination of employment and 'defamation of character'. His lawyer is Anton DiNozzo and I was told he was one cutthroat SOB."
"Anton is a lawyer?" Tony turned to Steve in surprise.
"Yeah, he's a lawyer. But he became a medical doctor first. Mother wanted doctor and lawyer sons and since I chose not to be one or the other, Anton became both to accommodate her wishes."
"Holy Shit! He is one umbilical cord away from being in-utero, the stupid sap." Said Tony and he threw his half empty cup of bad java into the trash.
"Yes, and it just gets weirder, DiNozzo." Said Vance, wishing he hadn't broken the toothpick habit, the chewing gum habit and the smoking habit.
"They are on their way here for a meeting with the SECNAV as we speak, and our legal department has been notified and will try to get a JAG lawyer present in time but that may not happen."
"The other thing, DiNozzo's." He said as he included both Steve and Tony, "the FBI has had Mrs Angela DiNozzo detained and she is being brought here to explain her apparent success in getting her grandson's name upped to number one on the list for kidney transplantation. They're very interested in how she managed that, who she bribed perhaps? It's a joint case because she may have also been involved in this bounty hunting business perpetrated against an NCIS employee.
"Now, I don't know why the SECNAV thinks this is a good day to have both issues addressed, but he does. So, let's deal with it in as professional manner as possible."
Vance turned to Tim. "Any more info on Kohls, McGee? Was it just the two groups he hired or more?"
"No one else was involved, as far as we can determine, Director. The evidence suggests that we got all of the bounty hunters he hired except for the one that escaped through the front door during the initial confrontation." McGee had printer out the report and handed the folder to Vance.
"Fornell faxed over his report, it's included in the folder. The prisoner gave up the name of the guy who got away. Some cousin of one of the other men, 17 year old juvie, thought he was there to just rob an empty house. He got scared when the shooting started and took off. He was found hiding out in his uncle's crawl space.
"I'm pretty sure, well, I'm more than sure. Of course, there could be variables we haven't taken into consideration, such as... "
"McGee!" Gibbs and Steve had purloined a couple of cartons of breakfast food from Ziva's bag without reading the contents and Ziva had already set her carton of vegetarian tofu egg white omelet aside. Tim was hoping that wasn't his chicken sausage and scrambled egg Gibbs had just stuffed in his mouth after yelling at him.
"Sorry, I'm sure that there are no other contracts out there, Boss. Agent Fornell's report indicates they came to the same conclusion."
"If I may, Director Vance, Agent Gibbs, my sources agree with the consensus. Kohls basically had no time and no money to attempt to hire anyone else. Actually, he wasn't even going to be able to honor the two contracts he already had. He really used all his ready cash. This was a last ditch effort on his part to recoup."
Steve had swallowed his morsel of food and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin before rising from his chair and walking around to the front of the desk where he parked a hip. His demeanor was no longer that of the likable, casual guy, everybody's best friend. He was the head of a huge corporation, he looked everyone straight in the eye and spoke authoritatively even in just imparting information. Like with Tony, you couldn't take his first appearance for granted.
"Your sources, DiNozzo?" Vance eyed the man dubiously for a moment. Then just shook his head.
"Very well, we'll mark the bounty hunter case as closed. Needless to say, Gregor's name has been placed back where it originally was on the list. I understand Mrs DiNozzo, shall we say, lost her temper when that fact was brought to her attention.
"The thing is, Anton DiNozzo is also Mrs DiNozzo's lawyer and he will be handling both cases. Can it get any more complicated than this?" Vance asked no one in particular as he started back up the stairs.
"They'll be here in an hour. My question to you DiNozzo is will you be able to handle this without going off the deep end. I don't want a repeat performance of the last boxing match here." Vance looked down from the rail at Tony.
"I assure you, Director Vance. It will not happen again as far as I am able to prevent it!"
Tony said in all sincerity.
Vance observed Tony for the veracity of his reassurances but the agent appeared, 'as far as he could prevent it', yeah. He continued upstairs to his office thinking trouble ahead, better be prepared.
He'd have the group carefully checked for weapons, especially Mrs DiNozzo with a thorough strip search, and cavity search if he thought it was needed. And security would be standing by with Taser's and a straightjacket just as a precaution. Last but not least, Dr Mallard with a big needle.
A/N All for now. It's nice hearing from you for sure. Thank you all for reading and guest for giving this story a second chance.
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