DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 10
After a quick external check of the property, Tony walked to the SUV and started the engine. He reversed it to within four feet of the back entrance to the house and opened the rear hatch. Reaching into his back pocket, he withdrew his handcuffs and attached one cuff to the back of the rear seat, leaving the other open and dangling – ready to secure the terrorist in case they required a quick exit.
Walking back into the house he saw that McGee had bound Saleem's feet together with duct tape. He took his knife and gave the terrorist a hard and intimidating stare before slicing through the tape and freeing his legs.
"Tony? What are you doing?" McGee asked.
"Untying his legs."
"Why?"
"If we get visitors, McGee, we'll have to move fast – you gonna carry him to the car?"
McGee nodded his head, conceding the point.
"Didn't think of that," he said. "Did you make the call?"
"Yep, now we just have to wait for Gibbs to get the message and call us back," Tony replied.
"Gibbs? Gibbs isn't even back in DC, why didn't you call Vance?"
"Because I don't know who to trust anymore, McGee! Are you happy now?" Tony yelled in frustration. "Gibbs is back in DC and he'll get my message. If he trusts Vance, he'll tell him, if not – he'll get us out some other way."
Tony breathed deeply to release his tension as McGee watched with concern.
"You really think we've been set-up?"
"You know, McGee, it really doesn't matter what I think or what I feel or what I suspect - you've made that very clear," Tony said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands and suddenly sounding very tired. " But think about this – if this isn't a set-up, where is everyone? We are carrying, crucial information needed to stop a terrorist attack on US soil – where's our back-up, our secured phone line, our extra ammo, our way home? Where the hell did everybody go?"
"I'm not saying you're wrong, Tony, I'm just saying that we don't know for sure."
"Okay, Probie, how about this - we'll compromise. We take precautions and make plans as if we expect the safe house to be hit. If you're right and the good guys arrive to save the day – no harm, no foul. If I'm right, then at least we'll be ready. Deal?"
"Deal! How do you want to prepare?" McGee asked.
"We do perimeter checks and keep watch. If the bad guys come calling, you grab Saleem and throw him into the back of the SUV and hook the handcuffs he's wearing into the handcuffs I put in there earlier," Tony said. "Then put your head down and drive like hell."
"What about you?"
"I've found a spot at the side of the house that'll give me a good angle on anyone coming in from the front," Tony explained. "They'll be concentrating on the car, they won't be expecting me to be on foot. I'll take out as many as I can, cross the field diagonally and I'll beat you to the road."
"What if I get there before you?"
"Then you keep driving until you're sure they're not following you and you use the cell to get a message to Gibbs to come and get you."
"Tony," he said with complete sincerity. "I won't leave you behind. I'll wait until you come."
"If you get to the road before me, Probie…I won't be coming."
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Ziva slammed her hands, palms down onto the desk.
"This is so damn frustrating!" she snapped before rising to her feet and beginning to pace anxiously.
Fornell looked up from where he was continuing with the online search.
"Tell me about it," he lamented. "I left the love of my life in pieces on the living room floor to come here, last night."
Ziva huffed out a laugh. "You men are all the same," she admonished. "Why is it that you must delude yourself by thinking that the minute you are away from your woman, she falls to pieces on the living room floor."
"I'm talking about my Harley, Officer David," he replied.
"It does not matter to me what her name is, Agent Fornell, I am merely stating that women of today are emotionally strong and financially independent and do not suffer break downs just because they are separated from their men for a few hours."
"My Harley is a bike!"
Ziva pierced him with a murderous look as her voice rose with exasperation.
"What is it with you men!" she exclaimed. "If a woman does not put up –"
"Put out," he corrected.
"If a woman does not put out, she is a tease yet if she does put out she is a bike!"
"You don't understand; my Harley Davidson really is a bike."
"I do not know your Miss Davidson, Agent Fornell, but if I ever hear you refer to her or any other woman in such an uncomplimentary manner, I will make you eat your words."
The soft beeping of Ziva's computer saved Fornell before he could dig himself any deeper. She quickly walked back to her computer.
"It is the LoJack transmitter in Brady's car," she said. "Looks like he is heading in the direction of his home."
"Gibbs is still in MTAC," Fornell said.
"I will have Abby monitor the signal and I will intercept Brady at his apartment and bring him in for questioning," she said collecting her weapons and ID from her desk drawer.
"Not without back-up," Fornell said, as he quickly checked his own weapon and followed her to the elevator.
At Ziva's request, Abby continued to monitor the progress of Brady's car as it continued in the direction of his Georgetown apartment. With Fornell riding shotgun, Ziva negotiated the early morning traffic in her usual speedy and reckless manner, heading for Brady's apartment.
Having spent the last 20 minutes continually slamming his foot on the imaginary passenger side brake pedal and hanging on for dear life, Fornell was relieved when they arrived in one piece and parked outside Brady's apartment building. He was equally impressed that he was able to break the death grip of both hands and relax his painfully clenched butt without losing his cool façade.
After locating Brady's car in his designated parking spot, Fornell and Ziva advised Abby of their arrival and confirmed with the doorman that Brady had entered his apartment. According to the doorman, Brady was leaving again shortly to catch a flight. Fifteen minutes later, Jason Brady appeared, carrying an overladen suitcase and looking agitated and tense. He froze at the sight of the unknown man leaning casually against the hood of his car.
"Jason Brady?" Fornell asked as he flashed his identification. "Agent Tobias Fornell, FBI."
Brady's eyes raked over Fornell as he calculated his chances of out-running the older man.
"If you're wondering whether you could outrun me, my guess is that you could," Fornell told him with a shrug, "but before you try you should know, the Mossad Officer standing behind you, is just aching for an opportunity to break you in half."
Brady's gaze flicked from Fornell to Ziva before finally he sighed in resignation and allowed himself to be handcuffed and guided into the back of the NCIS vehicle.
--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--
"Perimeter's secure," McGee told Tony walking back into the living room where Tony had been watching the access road and keeping on eye on their resident terrorist.
"I found a jar of coffee in the cupboard, you want some?"
"Coffee's good," Tony replied. "Any bottled water?"
McGee grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and tossed it to Tony who stood in front of the terrorist.
"What about it, Sal, you thirsty?" Tony asked, carefully kneeling next to the man and ripping the duct tape from his mouth none too gently. He held the bottle to Saleem's mouth and allowed him to drink.
"Looks like the duct tape is causing a little chaffing," Tony said. "But you're in luck – McGee, here, can refer you to his dermatologist. He's great with dry skin and will clear that chaffing right up!"
"It will not help to take me with you," Saleem said. "You only succeed in making yourselves a target. My people will find you and kill you."
Tony snorted at the threat and chose to ignore it as he held the bottle to Saleem's mouth again. "Drink up, can't have you dying of thirst in our custody."
Saleem's eyes were dark with malice. "I am not afraid to die for my cause."
"Re-ally?" Tony drawled. "That's not how it looked back there in the woods, Sal. If memory serves you dropped your weapon pretty quickly – cause or no cause."
"You know nothing about our cause," Saleem spat. "You are a stupid, ignorant sonofabitch!"
"And you're a vile, murdering, sanctimonious bastard," Tony replied with a shrug. "If this is a name calling competition, Sal, you're gonna have to do better than that."
"You and your friend will soon be dead and there is nothing you can do to change that."
"Maybe, but in the meantime, I can do this!" Tony said nonchalantly as he placed another strip of duct tape over Saleem's mouth and walked back to continue watching the access road.
McGee handed him a mug of coffee and stood at his side offering silent support.
"So, Probie…I've been thinking," Tony began, hissing as the hot beverage stung the split on his lower lip.
"Really, Tony? How'd that go?"
Tony chucked softly at the light-hearted jibe, "Turns out you were right."
"Yeah? 'Bout what?"
"Remember back in Khalil's basement, when I said this day couldn't get any worse? Well, apparently, it can."
"Gibbs will call soon and before we know it, things will be back to normal and you'll be making my life a living hell."
"You're right, Probie…there's always that to look forward to."
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—
Jimmy was getting desperate. He knew that every minute's delay placed Tony and McGee in greater jeopardy but he just hadn't been able to get Gibbs alone so that he could give him the phone as Tony had asked.
He felt his face pink up again as he thought of the disastrous men's room fiasco. 'Inferior quality paper towels,' he thought rolling his eyes at the memory of his own words. 'Nice one, Palmer, now Agent Gibbs thinks you're a total moron.'
He knew Gibbs was with Vance in Abby's lab and he sat in the deserted stairwell with his eyes glued to the sliding glass doors, desperately hoping that Gibbs would come out soon so that he could pass on Tony's message. Finally, the doors opened and Gibbs headed to the elevator.
Jimmy was on his feet and running up the stairs to the next level in an instant. As he rounded the corner to the elevator he heard the 'ding' announcing the arrival of the car and as the doors opened to reveal Gibbs alone inside, Jimmy was almost overwhelmed with relief. He stepped inside and received a perfunctory nod from the agent. As Jimmy turned to face the closing doors, the sound of running footsteps and a young female voice rang out.
"Hold the elevator, please!"
Gibbs reached forward to stop the doors from closing just as a young woman, from the secretarial pool arrived, laden with files. Jimmy's heart skipped several beats as he realised that he was about to lose another opportunity to speak with Gibbs alone. He couldn't let this happen - Tony was counting on him.
"No!" he exclaimed, knocking Gibbs' arm away from the closing doors and watching the facial expression of the young secretary change from a grateful smile to a look of irritation.
"Sorry," Jimmy grimaced, "get the next one, this one's full."
He felt the elevator start to ascend and the world lifted from his shoulders as he realised he'd achieved his objective. He reached to press the emergency stop button and the car came to a shuddering halt. In the muted light, Jimmy turned to face Gibbs.
"What the hell was that about, Palmer?" he snapped.
Jimmy closed his eyes on a sigh and took a deep breath.
"Agent Gibbs, I need to speak with you privately," he said. "You have no idea how long I've waited to get you alone. There was a reason I was waiting for you in the men's room and I can't put this off any longer."
The statement set every fibre of Gibbs' heterosexuality on alert, his jaw tightened and fingers curled into fists of their own volition. Just as quickly, he dismissed the thought as ridiculous.
"Look, Palmer, if this is about your paper towel petition…"
"No, Sir,…sorry, Agent Gibbs, it's not about the paper towels," Jimmy said then lowered his voice to a whisper. "It's about Bandit and Spider Mike."
Gibbs snapped to attention. "What about them?"
Palmer placed his hand in his pocket and withdrew a cell phone.
"The Bandit called me two hours ago," Jimmy explained. "He said there's a leak in our agency and we're to trust nobody. He asked me to give you this untraceable cell and tell you that you need to call him. I programmed his number as speed dial one."
As Gibbs started to call the number he asked, "Are they alright, did they tell you where they were?"
"He said they were up to their necks in cra…trouble but they were okay for the moment. He didn't tell me where they were."
"Good job, Palmer," Gibbs said listening as the cell started to ring. "This is the break we've been waiting for."
"That's a big 10-4, Snowman, I mean, certainly, Sir… er...Agent Gibbs." Palmer replied with a huge sigh of relief.
--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—
Tony paced the living room like a caged lion, willing the cell phone to ring. His body was tense and ready for action and he never took his eyes of the access road to the property. He was quiet and introverted, two words that were not usually synonymous with Tony DiNozzo and that was making his partner extremely nervous.
The shrill of the cell phone startled him and he flicked the speakerphone button as he brought the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" Tony answered warily.
"DiNozzo?"
"Gibbs!"
"You two all right?"
"We're a little battered and bruised," Tony said. "You know what happened?"
"Vance told me," Gibbs replied. "Where are you?"
"At a safe house about 30 minutes south of Blacksburg. We seem to be okay for the moment."
"That the safe house Brady set up?"
"Yes."
"You need to get the hell outta there!" Gibbs said. "Fornell has a cabin about 15 minutes south of Blacksburg. I'll give you directions - you'll be safe there."
"This assignment was a set up." It was a statement rather than a question and Gibbs noted with concern, the disillusion and exhaustion in the younger man's voice.
He gave Tony the address to Fornell's cabin and some basic instructions. Tony glanced at McGee who nodded to indicate that he had committed the details to memory.
"You get to the cabin and sit tight," Gibbs instructed. "We have a Navy chopper on stand-by and we'll get you two out of there, ASAP."
"Yeah, Gibbs, about that," Tony replied. "There are three of us now. We picked up a souvenir."
"DiNozzo…what the hell- "
"Saleem Akram is bound and gagged and sitting five feet from me as we speak," Tony said.
"Akram! How the hell did he get into the country without sending up flags at every damn Government agency?" Gibbs asked angrily.
"You tell me," Tony replied. "We would have gift wrapped him for you but there just wasn't- shit!"
McGee heard the sudden change in Tony's voice and followed his gaze out the window as a dark sedan made its way from the main road and slowly turned toward the property. It came to a halt 50 yards from the house and five Pakistani men climbed from the car.
"Move, McGee, get to the car, NOW!" Tony ordered urgently. "When you hear me start shooting, you put your head down and drive like hell."
McGee heaved Saleem to his feet and placed his gun against the man's spine as he monstered him into the back of their vehicle, secured his handcuffs to the rear seat and slammed the hatch closed.
"DiNozzo?...Tony!!" Gibbs' voice sounded from the now forgotten phone. "Damn it, Tony answer me!"
Ending the call without time for an explanation, Tony tossed the cell to McGee and, with an encouraging nod to the younger man; he turned and ran back into the house to lay down some cover fire.
McGee climbed behind the wheel of the car and drew a huge shuddering breath. He hated the thought of leaving Tony behind but knew that if they were to get out of this alive he had to stick to the plan.
By the time Tony made it back inside, the five men had started to fan out and cautiously approach the house. He sidled up to the windows, making certain he had cover, but ensuring he had a clear view to each of the terrorists. When the man on Tony's far left made a dash for the side of the house, Tony open fired. He hit the man high in the left thigh before adjusting his aim, putting two rounds in his chest and sending the others scrambling for cover. His heart was racing as he heard McGee fire up the SUV at the back of the house.
"Now, Probie!" Tony yelled, knowing his partner couldn't hear him over the roar of the engine and the screech of the tyres.
Tony continued to lay down cover fire as the SUV swerved around the corner of the house at high speed and hurtled down the access road, attracting the attention of the remaining four terrorists. With their focus now on the vehicle, Tony ran for the rear door of the house and stealthily made his way to the side of the building where the trees and vegetation provided cover and a good angle on the terrorists and their sedan.
His heart skipped several beats when the passenger side windows of the SUV exploded in a shower of tiny crystals and it veered dangerously off the road and into a shallow ditch. Two of the terrorists broke cover, running toward the stalled SUV but the sound of rapid-fire from the vehicle, followed by the sight of the bloodied men falling to the ground, assured Tony that McGee was not badly injured.
The engine of the SUV caught on the second attempt and with considerable revving of its powerful engine the vehicle dragged itself from the ditch and headed, once again for the main road.
Running at a crouch, Tony emptied his clip into the terrorist's sedan, bursting both tyres on the passenger side, perforating the radiator with a gaseous hiss and keeping the last two men pinned behind the vehicle. Without slowing his pace, he ejected and reloaded a new clip with expert precision and started for the field. With luck, he'd make it to the road in time to meet up with McGee.
With a strength and speed borne of desperation, he broke from the cover of the trees and headed diagonally across the open field. He was making good ground and had a two hundred yard start on the two terrorists when a force that knocked the breath out of him sent him sprawling face down in the dirt.
Roils of nausea immediately assailed him and a mind-numbing pain in his shoulder had him gasping for breath. His heart was pounding so hard that his vision was greying and he stubbornly forced his mind to stay alert. Placing his right hand to his left shoulder he felt the sticky, warmth of his own blood flowing freely into his thick black sweater and knew he was in trouble. He could hear the shouts of the Pakistanis as they followed his path across the field, moving in for the kill.
Adrenalin surged through his veins, mercifully blocking his pain perception and giving him the strength to push himself up on shaky legs. Keeping low, he staggered drunkenly toward the road, each jolting step sending shafts of pain stabbing into his wound. Losing his balance he stumbled, landing heavily on his knees. On all fours, he scrambled desperately onward, flinching amid a hail of bullets that kicked at the dirt around him.
Caught in his agonising nightmare, Tony barely heard the screeching of rubber on bitumen as McGee flattened the gas pedal and veered the SUV from the road. The car crashed through the two-rail fence sending slithers of splintered wood flying through the air as he sped toward his downed partner and skidded to a halt with the SUV between Tony and the closing Pakistanis.
He fired a series of rounds in quick succession and the Pakistanis flattened themselves on the ground. With the threat momentarily contained, McGee leant across the passenger seat and threw open the door.
"Tony!" he screamed. "Get in!"
His head shot up and he looked up at McGee through pain-filled, glassy eyes.
"Move!! Come on!!"
Tony literally felt the adrenaline seep from his body and wondered whether he had the strength to take the last few steps to the car. Biting down hard on his lip to muffle his involuntary cry of pain, he dragged himself to his feet and lunged into the passenger seat. McGee floored the gas pedal and furiously manoeuvred the SUV back to the road, in the direction of Fornell's cabin.
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A/N:- Thanks again for your wonderful reviews, alerts and PM's - I'm very grateful for each one, L