Brothers Up In Arms
Chapter 10
Dietrich and Efimkin had followed Woodward into the office area, having almost been run down by the two scientists departing in a hurry. Pavel had carefully noted where Woodward's two goons were; there was a third outside guarding the front entrance, he knew - since he was no longer sure if he was on the same side as them, he thought he might have to deal with them later. He wanted to keep his personal record of no killing in tact if he possibly could. He went over to look through the one-way mirror with the other two men.
The room was bare but for a gurney with a blanket, and a cabinet on the other side of the room. Dietrich grimaced inside himself; he had never used that room, or that cabinet, but he knew he was expected to now. As they watched, Mari fetched the blanket from the gurney, and wrapped it round Tony where he lay slumped against the wall. He opened his eyes and smiled at her, but his head soon drooped again. Woodward smiled. The Fed really didn't look good. No threat, and vulnerable. Pity it wasn't the one Weiss had taken up with, but he'd do.
The young woman looked at the gurney and shuddered; she could guess what it meant.
"Excellent," Woodward said. "She's afraid." There was a hint of excitement in his voice that sickened Pavel; as a former member of the Moscow police force, he'd seen a few things, and he'd broken a few heads in his time, as he hinted to Dietrich, but a person who was happy at the prospect of systematic torture was less than human, and not someone he wanted to work for any more. He'd come to the USA to make money, legal or not, but this… no. He silently made his decision.
"You're wanting to begin right away?" Dietrich said, feigning doubt and surprise.
"Of course. Why should we not?"
"No particular reason… just thought it'd be better to start fresh in the morning. There's also the small matter of my not being a medical doctor. You really should have one here, this isn't my field at all. Well, no matter… is the recording equipment ready?"
Woodward simply nodded to one of his men, who sat down at a desk along the same wall, and slid a panel out. He nodded back at his boss. Dietrich shrugged and left the office, went along the short corridor, easing his jacket open as he did so, and into the room. He immediately knelt by the semi-conscious agent. Mari glared at him and prepared to put up a fight.
Through an unseen speaker, Woodward said testily, "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"
"He could be faking," Dietrich said over his shoulder, moving between the injured man and the window. "I don't want to be jumped." He eased his jacket, so that Tony could see the badge he'd clipped temporarily to the outside of his inner pocket. He tapped the agent's cheek, none too kindly, and said "Hey!" sharply, and DiNozzo's head came up slowly. His eyes focussed immediately on the badge, widened momentarily, but went blank again at once. He made a thumbs up sign with his left hand, where it was wrapped around his ribs.
"Hey!" Dietrich said again. "Can you hear me?" Tony smiled very slightly, looked him in the eye and let his head fall forward again. "Aah – he's out cold," the CIA man said, thinking the agent might not be of much use but at least he'd be ready. Mari looked at him expressionlessly, wondering why he was lying. "You," Dietrich told her roughly, "Just sit there and don't give me any trouble. I can have two big guys in here in five seconds to kick his ribs in."
"Gibbs! The tracker's moving again. It's going away from the building. It was stopped for about three minutes but now it's on the move… they must be taking them somewhere else!" Abby's voice was frantic.
"Are they coming back towards us, Abs?" Gibbs maintained his calm.
"No! They seem to be heading for the international terminal… unless they're leaving the –"
"It's not them, Boss!" Tim said urgently.
"I thought you said the tracker was in Mari's coat."
"I did, Boss. But my guess is it got left in the car. Dietrich said Akhmatova wants to leave the country tonight… "
Ziva said, "So either she is going to her scheduled flight, or she is alarmed because they have taken Tony as well, and she is leaving in a hurry. Either way she is someone we should be arresting –"
"Ziva, we need to find our people first," Tim said, trying to sound reasonable and not worried sick. Like an agent... "Let Abby find the flight she's on and warn Interpol or something."
"Yes, but –"
"McGee – go. I'm right behind you. Ziva. Get Abby to tell them to hold the flight, when she's found it. Warn them to make the excuse plausible. Have her warn the Airport Police to back you up. Don't break my car." He disappeared after Tim.
Akhmatova looked round outside the car – no signs of pursuit; then inside out of curiosity. She saw the coat that was lying discarded on the central seat; and reached for it curiously.
"What do you have there?" Grenville asked her.
"I wonder if this was Weiss's… do I recall Woodward saying that there was a tracker in it…? Sookin syn!" She pressed the window switch, and as soon as there was enough opening she hurled the coat away from the car.
"You found it then, my darling…"
A few minutes later, Terry Packer found it too. He lit the evening air with profanities. There was an urban fox foraging nearby, but having lived around the airport all his life, he was too deaf to be offended by it. Packer was still swearing as he got back in the car; now he'd have to find the place himself.
Dietrich made a great deal of looking through the draws and trays of the cabinet. 'Come on, McGee… I thought you said you'd be right behind me…I'm still not sure about Efimkin... but I know Woodward carries, and there are the other two…' He huffed worriedly. 'Well, Warren, now's the time to really earn your corn.'
He spotted a vial and had an idea. Ativan – something he recognised. A sedative, pure and simple. He turned and glared at Marianne. "Get up on the gurney, Dr. Weiss."
"No!"
He looked down at DiNozzo. "I meant what I said. I'll hurt him to ensure your co-operation."
Mari climbed up on the gurney without another word. "I'm sorry," she said tearfully to the man on the floor. He waited until Dietrich was between him and the window to open his eyes and wink at her.
"This is merely Ativan, to relax you, Doctor. Don't fight, if you value Special Agent DiNozzo's life."
Mari watched the needle going into her arm, and didn't flinch. "Bastard," she said in schweizerdeutsch, smiled, and fell asleep.
"What are you doing?" Woodward yelled. "I thought you said relax her?"
Dietrich looked uncertain. "I should have realised… she's a lot smaller than my father… he used to have four milligrams… I didn't realise you should reduce the dose…" Woodward exploded with rage, and disappeared from the window. They could hear his fury coming down the corridor.
"You damn fool… you've knocked her out… how long will she sleep for? Give her something to counteract it…" He grabbed Marianne by the shoulders and began to shake her violently. The face of Woodward's recording goon appeared in the window, and disappeared just as quickly; Pavel Efimkin stood there gesturing with his gun, held butt first. Dietrich nodded; seemed the decision was made. Tony registered it too; Dr. CIA was going to have to explain some things. But not yet.
"Hey," Dietrich was protesting, "Don't do that… she'll wake up soon enough, there's no need to hurt her…" Woodward wasn't stupid; and Dietrich acting stupid didn't sit right somehow. He dropped Marianne back on the gurney, drew his own gun and turned to face the scientist.
"You did it deliberately. What are you up to? What are you doing? Guys? Pavel? Where the hell are you?" There was no answer. (Declan was out cold across his recording equipment; Pavel was checking that Art was still guarding the front entrance.) "You freaking cheating bastard –"
Woodward's gun came up, and Dietrich was thinking that he was going to die, but maybe he'd at least saved the girl, when something small and silver flashed through the air. Woodward crashed back, the belt-buckle handle of a knife sticking from under his chin. DiNozzo leaned against the wall, white faced, on his knees. Warren Dietrich let his breath out in a long shudder. "That's nasty," he said. "And thanks."
"I was aiming for his heart…" Tony said shakily. He took a deep breath. "You're supposed to be one of the bad guys, right?"
Dietrich helped him to stand. "Save your energy, Agent DiNozzo. I had a long talk with your Agent McGee. He'll tell you all about it…"
"Is he OK?"
"Sure. Determined to save his girl. And you."
"Are my team coming?" He went to pick up the discarded gun, but couldn't actually bend… Dietrich retrieved it and handed it to him.
"Sure hope so." He checked Mari, and moved her to lie in a more comfortable position. "I told him I was on my own. Don't think I am now…"
Tony lifted the gun as the door opened; it was Pavel. He lowered the gun in his hand when he realised he was looking straight into DiNozzo's. "By the way," Dietrich said, "Pavel really was trying to save your life when he ran you down. Packer was behind you with a gun."
Tony just nodded, back to leaning on the wall; Pavel looked from one to the other, noting the ease between them. "Who are you?" he asked Dietrich.
"You made the right choice , Pavel. Y'see, I'm the guy who's going to run the organisation now; and you're going to be an honest crook. My right hand man. You could even come out of it smelling of roses when the whole nasty thing's been taken down."
"Guys… hate to spoil the love fest, but you need to get out of here. We'd have to arrest you if we found you here… blow your cover to hell…"
Dietrich gathered Mari up in his arms. "Can't leave her in here with him," he said.
"There's a break room next door," Pavel said. "We can put her there. But you should know; I couldn't find the guy who was guarding the front entrance. He's armed."
DiNozzo lurched after them to the break room; at the end of the corridor was a fire door to the outside world. Tony pointed. "If you can…" he said slowly, "guard her until my friends arrive, then sneak out that way. It'll be a shame that two of the bad guys got away before they got here, but you can't win 'em all. I'm gonna look for this other guy."
"You're in no fit state…" Dietrich said as he laid Mari carefully on a couch, and Pavel put the blanket over her.
"You can't help. You need to stay alive for the job ahead of you. If you ever need any help from NCIS, you've got it. Good luck." He left as quickly as he was capable of, which wasn't saying much. He headed back into the office area, and looked round slowly. There were a couple of computer cubicles, not tall enough to hide a person standing, and he couldn't see the feet of anyone crouching, but he still eased past them and the unconscious recording man carefully, holding his gun in both hands.
There was a rear door to check out, but as he came to the last cubicle he actually smiled delightedly. His Sig, and his back-up Glock lay on the desk there, and finding them at that moment probably saved his life. As he hefted the familiar, beautifully balanced weapon, he heard a sound behind him, and whirled round. When you must, you can. The sound guy, pretty wide awake, was drawing a bead on him. Staggering, Tony still snapped off a shot born of second nature; the other man fired reflexively a moment later, and went down.
The big agent's knees slowly gave way on him; he found himself sitting on the floor in the cubicle, leaning against the desk. Blood welled from his left forearm; he reckoned he could feel the bullet against the bone. Yecch. He drew up one knee and leaned his injured arm on it, blood dripped onto the floor. His head sank on his chest. That was him finished for the day…
AN: A bit shorter than usual; only a bit, honest. But that's what I get for filling an unexpected afternoon off with writing, instead of all the things I SHOULD have been doing. That's it now for torturing Tony…. One more chapter should do it.