A/N: Well, it's at least a little longer, if not faster. Thanks to all for reading, reviewing and generally supporting!

Chapter 10

Although it wasn't in any way obvious, Gibbs' phone buzzing rescued him from the delayed-action boredom of this impromptu stakeout. This was a hell of a lot easier back when I was a sniper.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Boss - Oakley's on the move, looks like to the airport. Her shift starts at 06:00, so it's not quite an hour early."

In the quiet car, Ziva easily heard McGee's report. She reminded them both, "She often gets to work at odd hours Gibbs; she also often leaves for the day extremely early."

Not enough then, but I don't like this. "McGee, you listen to the audio bugs in there, or get Abby to read lips if security cameras pick Oakley or Gould up. You or Abby figure out who was supposed to be receiving the truck?

"Appears to be one of their two drop locations north of the city based both on the direction the truck was heading and the financials from the laptop. There was a delivery planned last night to a JNZ - a known drug dealer named Henry Johns called the driver's cellphone from up there. He left a general 'where are you' voicemail message half an hour ago."

"Keep on it, you get anything you let me know." Hanging up before McGee could reply, Gibbs wished he could oblige his gut, but there just wasn't enough reason to blow the operation before the DEA was ready to move in.

Yet. Gibbs thought grimly.

Gould had been leaning over the railing, watching the men below work. He met Kathy Oakley there on the walkway outside his office. Oakley spoke quietly so the men down in the hangar area wouldn't overhear. "Vernon, the truck still hasn't arrived in Philadelphia. My driver Julio hasn't called or texted me at all. He never does that, he's dependable as the sunrise as long as he gets his cut. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You haven't called him, right?"

"Are you nuts? No, and I haven't dared to run the tracker on the one float box in the truck either. If someone traced that back to us… what if…"

Gould cut her off, "What if the Puerto Ricans have stolen our shipment? Julio may already be dead." The skin around his eyes and nose began twitching the way it often did when he was furious.

Kathy fell silent, puzzled. "Why would you think that? They haven't tried something that big before. I was thinking cops might…"

"But now they have an employee inside our company Kathy. A spy." They both turned to look downstairs at the other end of the hangar where Rob and 'Terry' were putting away the supplies used in the cleaning and restocking of President Jamil's Gulfstream.

For entirely selfish carnal reasons, Kathy leapt to Terry's defense knowing what Vern would think the necessary next step if he was right. "Vern, you're barking up the wrong tree. I searched his stuff in the motel room, we've monitored his communications, you've had him watched when he wasn't with me, and he's definitely not wearing a wire… anywhere. Trust me on that. Your guys confirmed he's had no contact with anyone but a floozy at Waffle House. And she even checked out, took the food back to a local shop and passed it out to co-workers."

Gould's beady eyes fixed on hers as he shook his head. "He worked for them before us, and now we're missing $40,000 worth of merchandise? That's all I need to know."

Kathy sighed, her partner's paranoia had probably saved their enterprise more than once, but this time she felt certain he was looking in the wrong direction. But if he wanted the hot new guy gone, then gone he would be. Gould could deal with the missing truck while she dealt with their former fisherman.

The helo side door slid open, revealing dark blue water in the early morning light below. As the noise escalated, Tony never heard the fire extinguisher being released from it's clamp behind him.

Eyes searching the water below, he called out over his shoulder, "We're low enough, but I can't see the boxes yet. Are we almost…"

He was cut off when the red canister struck his head from behind. He collapsed without a word.

Pulling his hands behind his back and zip-tieing them, Ms. Kathy Oakley said matter-of-factly, "I just can't bear to shoot you Terry, even if you're working for them. But you'll be dead in just a minute. Such a waste. This was probably going to happen in a month anyway. My guys I can vouch for, but Vern believes in high turnover, to put it mildly and..."

There was a noise… a kind of whine, impossible to label… but it reminded him of a Bob Dylan harmonica riff. One of the really annoying solos that he could never stand. Then there was rolling motion, and a sense of weightlessness. Through slit eyes he thought he saw a bright light, like rippling sunlight on water. It reminded him with a sharp pang of longing of the brightly lit rocking chair in Gibbs' dark basement.

Peanuts and beer...

Oh. Light?

If that's sunlight, I made it to the dawn finally.

It was his last thought before plunging into the Atlantic Ocean.

Gibbs didn't like the situation. He'd never wanted to keep an appointment for breakfast at a Waffle House with his SFA as much as he did right now. His gut had been nagging him ever since he and Ziva had gotten in the car back at NCIS. And now they saw the helicopter return, but were at an awkward angle to see more.

"McGee, you got a view of who's getting out of the helo?"

Tim had been tired earlier in the pre-dawn hours; the team had mostly been keeping the same schedule as Tony to back him up. But he was now wide awake, and sounded loud and slightly panicked.

"Boss, we don't see Tony getting out of the helicopter. Unless he's still in it… but now the pilot just closed up. I have the entire flight path, everything seemed normal, they were over the same coordinates they did pickups in like a regular job, but didn't fly to a field for off loading this time. His phone is… off. Boss," he swallowed, "do you think they…"

"Get Abby on." Gibbs barked abruptly. A second later he was barking at her too, "Abby, what do your transponders say? Screw the risk of Apollo picking up the scan. Where is he?"

As she was pounding her keyboard in the background, she spoke rapidly, "The one in his watch isn't functional anymore. The one in his shoe is still at the pickup point Gibbs. It's the only waterproof one. God - he's been dumped in the water Gibbs!"

"McGee! You get the DEA's standby helicopter in the air right now. Get them to those coordinates or there'll be hell to pay. They let us down, you have a Navy helo ready to take off the second we arrive - we'll be back at the yard in twenty minutes."

"On it Boss!"

Over the sound of the agency sedan accelerating rapidly, Gibbs barked, "Ziva, get on the line with the DEA. Tell 'em they damn well better not lose Gould or Oakley. They better be in custody in an hour, or they're mine."

Gripping the overhead handle with one hand and dialing her cellphone with the other, Ziva answered grimly, "On it Gibbs."

Although efficiently relaying the information to the DEA, Ziva worried she may have made the wrong call about Oakley's early arrival. An understandable error. No one else on the team had disagreed with her... but she hoped it had not led to Tony's death.

This was totally my favorite episode of Magnum P.I…

…except it was a lot cooler as a tv episode. I think the water must have tasted better… not so much salt in the Pacific?

And bet it was a lot warmer there. Nice sunny morning, I really would have thought the ocean would be warmer. Really freakin' cold here.

Did Magnum have a concussion in that episode? There was a speed boat that hit his canoe… I think. Did he get whacked on the back of the head too? I'm sure I'd remember if it wasn't for the concussion.

I remember Rick and T.C. and Higgins all had a Gibbs' gut feeling that Magnum needed help and came and got him. Bet my friends know I need help too. Just gotta float, gonna come save…

He threw up bile and seawater yet again. The first time he'd thrown up was when he'd awoken to seawater in his mouth and nose, and the surface of the water seemed a mile above his head. He'd barely managed to swim to the surface in time. His feet were free, but hands bound together behind him were a major obstacle. As was the pain on the back left side of his skull. Very few times did he ever wish he didn't have a heartbeat, but he'd give anything for the pounding reverberating through his entire heavy head to just stop.

The second time he'd vomited was when he'd contorted in a painfully unsuccessful attempt to slide his hands under his feet back in front of his body. That's when he discovered the entire left side of his body from head to knee had an ache he'd never experienced. Maybe that's what hit the water first? Never wished to be covered in butter so much before. That one time in college was fun, but this time it would save me a world of pain trying to get my hands in front.

Need right boot. Something about right boot.

Considering his massively heavy head, floating with no arms to balance with was becoming increasingly impossible, and for the first time Tony worried he might actually drown out here, alone. That spurred him to accomplish the wildly difficult contortion of arching backwards to not only reach his right boot from behind his body, but unlace it enough to pull it off, while not dropping it to the bottom of the ocean.

After rebalancing and catching his breath, he waited for the urge to vomit again to pass. Staring stupidly over his shoulder at the boot for what seemed like days, he finally remembered why he wanted it… and carefully withdrew the tiny knife hidden in the finger-pull leather along the ankle. Cutting through the zip-tie, his relief was massive as he could tread water easily at last.

Except now he wondered if his aching head was bleeding at all. And how close sharks might be. Did Magnum have to deal with sharks? Are they attracted to barf in addition to blood?

And now the throbbing heavy head made it difficult to determine if he could let the boot go. It was apparently still in his left hand. There was no question he was keeping the tiny knife in his right.

Which boot had the transponder again Abby? God I wish you were here right now Abbs. Although, you'd hate all this sunlight with no parasol… or sunscreen. I've got the eternal base tan, don't have to worry so much about sunburn. But a tent would be nice, it's awfully bright. A hospitality tent, with the Orvis super soft blanket from my bed, and hot chocolate and potato chips… BBQ flavor. And watermelon. Think I'm entitled to weird cravings right now.

Which boot Abby? I can see your finger pointing. It's the same one as the FDD, yeah. And that's the left boot, thank god - just stay there boot. Don't care that you make treading water clunky down there.

Something's up with my left ear too, I think. Unless that's just my brain oozing out, hard to tell. Are sharks attracted to brain ooze? Would I still be talking to myself if my brain was oozing out?

He let the right boot go gladly, and pulled his left foot up just long enough to tuck the small knife in between the boot's tongue and side. Rather have a nick or two on my ankle than have no blade at all. And naturally everything that was in my pockets is long gone… except for this pen in my chest pocket. Seriously? Well, la-di-da for that. Maybe I can poke it in a shark's eye if I get attacked.

That's not going to happen. Think positive thoughts Anthony. Keep your chin up, right Gibbs? Literally… ha! Whole lot of water under it right now. Brr. Am I in shock or is it freaking cold? Think the answer is yes.

Treading water slowly, he fell into a light doze while attempting to appreciate any part of the glorious sunrise before him.

All that pretty up there is too freaking bright. Couldn't we have a dark sunrise for once? Wait, that doesn't make much sense.

I keep thinking about that scene in the episode, when they showed how Magnum's boat was so close to him, but he couldn't see it. Wonder if there really were any floating containers around here, or if that was just excuse to keep me in the dark until last minute? Oh... dark sounds so good.

The swells were luckily none too choppy today; as long as he could stay afloat they should find him.

T.C. will find me with his helicopter.

Just got to hang...

There was a terrible noise, and water blasted in his face before he felt arms supporting him.

Or is that a really nice shark? Don't wanna stab… eye. Nice shark.

Finally able to stop treading water, he was soon able to stretch out flat in the basket the arms maneuvered him into. Every piece of his body felt as heavy as a sodden elephant.

The blue sky spun dizzily. A noisy dark helicopter above him became larger and larger with every blink. It was the last thing he saw before his eyelids grew too heavy to open.

tbc…