A/N: Once again, huge thanks for your wonderful reviews, guys. It's great to know so many of you are still following this fic.
I should also probably mention now that this is not going to turn into a romance in any way; there's just a bit of flirting in this chapter. It amused me.
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Chapter 11: Paranoia
So far, so good, thought Tony, dropping into a seat at the bar to await his new 'friend'. Carmine Fuentes was a surprisingly soft touch for such a successful smuggler; he was practically eating out of Tony's hand after only a few hours.
Wish you could see it, Boss, Tony thought idly. Some of my best work, and Fiver was the only one watching. He'd become rather fond of the younger man, in a McGeeish kind of way; probably just because it made him feel at home to have someone familiar around who needed him to look out for them. Tim himself had never really appreciated Tony's attention and teaching; he preferred to listen to Gibbs. Mind you, if he had a choice, Tony would rather trust Gibbs than himself too. Nevertheless, he'd tried to impart a little of his trademark DiNozzo wisdom to the Probie.
More out of habit than anything, Tony let his eyes stray across the other clientele, scanning for anyone who looked dangerous and the least dressed women automatically. His gaze found a beautiful twenty something with long dark curls, dressed in a skimpy green bikini top and miniskirt, revealing a lot of creamy latte skin. She met the look unflinchingly, a smile pulling at her lips. Tony felt his own copying of their own volition. This one was more than she appeared; and he'd always liked mysterious women.
She rose from her seat and made her way over, rolling her hips more than strictly necessary. Tony's eyes narrowed a little; she moved like a predator. This chick was dangerous. The only question was whose side she was on.
"Ola, Senor," she purred seductively. "Mind if I join you?"
"Never, Senorita; though I gotta wonder what a girl like you is doing in a place like this."
She leaned closer, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "How can you be sure what kind of girl I am, Special Agent DiNozzo?"
"Why, by the way you move, sweetheart. Clearly, you know why I'm here; what agency are you with?"
She looked amused. "What makes you think I'm part of an agency?"
"Because if you were a terrorist, I'd be dead or in thumbscrews by now. You're not part of an American agency, so I'm guessing you're… Mossad? Here to make sure the operation goes smoothly to protect your mole?"
She looked impressed. "Very good, Tony. Gibbs taught you well."
"Bossman doesn't teach. You have to observe; something we're both good at. You were one of the girls on the quay when I arrived; and I assume you've been keeping me under surveillance ever since."
"As you said; I want to see this operation go smoothly. There is a great deal depending on your success."
"Well, miss…" He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You may call me Ziva."
"Ziva. Why'd you decide to approach me? I'm assuming it's not my animal magnetism, although that probably doesn't hurt."
"Oh, definitely not. The bug I planted in your bedroom has been very… illuminating. Do you always sleep naked?"
"Don't you?"
"Only when I have something to keep me warm." Her hand strayed down to his thigh.
"You're good," said Tony, smiling at her; but his eyes had gone cold. "You almost got me off the subject. Why now, Ziva?" The hand was abruptly withdrawn.
"To warn you," she said, suddenly businesslike. "Someone is searching for your true identity; and we have not been able to backtrace the computer. So far, we have been able to block access to the relevant files; but it is only a matter of time before the searcher finds something tying you to NCIS."
"You think it's Al Quaeda?"
"Who else could it be?"
"Oh, I can think of one or two. Thanks for the heads up."
"This is as much my mission as yours, Tony. You do not need to thank me for doing my duty." She pulled a biro from her purse and scribbled on her napkin. "My encrypted cell number. Just in case you need to contact us."
"Thanks. Oh, and when you see Ari, give him my sympathy, will ya?"
Her brow furrowed. "Sympathy?"
"Next time Gibbs sees the bastard, he's a dead man. No one messes with his people; and this makes three times now. I wouldn't wanna have Gibbs after my ass."
"Gibbs has bigger worries at present, Tony. Director Morrow is replacing you; and he is less than happy about it."
Tony's eyes softened a little. "Like I said; boss won't let anyone mess with his team, not even Morrow."
"Then let us hope he doesn't find out about this operation until it is over; or he could blow your cover spectacularly."
"That's the way Gibbs does most things."
Ziva smiled softly. "Clearly, you are very skilled at imitating him. Do not fail."
"I'll try not to."
"If you choose to act, it must be to succeed. There is no try." She stalked out, hips still swaying provocatively.
"Thank you, Yoda," said Tony under his breath, admiring her ass.
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Tony could feel the adrenaline starting to build as he followed Carmine aboard his yacht, the Isabella, to set out for their cargo pickup point. One and Two had already thoroughly bugged it while Tony kept the owner occupied at a party days before; and Fiver was tracking it with GPS. After they picked up the nuke, the rest of Sigma team would intercept the Isabella, disarm the bomb and toss what was left over the side. Then the four CIA operatives would leave Fuentes to face the terrorists he'd failed to deliver to while they hightailed it back to pick up Fiver and then flew out to debrief in Chicago. Tony just really, really hoped it would be that simple.
"Tonight's the night, Tony boy," said Fuentes eagerly. "Excited?"
"You kidding? Last time I was this buzzed was when I played college ball; I broke my leg in the fourth quarter."
"Ouch! No chance of that happening tonight. Let's go move some incense."
The sun was almost set as they arrived at the jetty where their clients were waiting, Tony had to admire Carmine's skill. He had successfully evaded all other boats on the water, and clearly knew the waterways like the back of his hand.
The small cluster of figures around the crate that held the bomb called out to the yacht as Tony threw a mooring rope to them.
"Fuentes?"
"Tariq," Carmine replied cheerfully. "This is Tony; he's helping me out on the delivery."
The shadowy figure examined Tony critically in the dying light. "American?" He asked, disdainfully.
"That a problem?" The undercover agent asked lightly.
"If you want us to trust you."
"Hey! Tony's Italian, like me," Carmine protested. "I trust him; and if that's not good enough I can turn right back around and let you find someone else to carry your cargo. Capice?"
"Do so, and you will not get your money," said Tariq, holding up a rucksack clearly bulging with something. "You will get the rest on delivery."
"I got plenty of less picky clients," said Fuentes, although he seemed unable to take his eyes from the bag. "Tony stays."
"Very well. But if he proves unworthy of your trust, we will be greatly displeased."
"He won't," said Fuentes firmly. Tony felt a frisson of guilt; Carmine wasn't all bad, and he'd be lucky to get out of the area with his skin intact after this.
The jetski hoist attached to the back of the yacht was utilised to lift the crate onto the deck and Fuentes accepted the bag of cash eagerly. He checked the contents before they left; satisfied, he piloted the boat out to sea to make his delivery.
"Paranoid much?" Tony remarked, as he opened the throttle to make for the mainland.
"Ah, they're all like that the first time they do something illegal; convinced you're gonna turn out to be CIA or something. You just have to tell them you won't take any crap."
This time, the guilt was more than a frisson. Tony knew for a fact that the boat containing One, Two and Three was heading right for them on an intercept course, guided by the GPS tracker they'd planted on the boat. He stayed with Fuentes, asking questions about his business, all the while listening out for the sound of a second engine.
I was about an hour later that the Isabella's engine spluttered and died, leaving them floating becalmed in the midnight ocean. One had done something to the engine that allowed him to cut off the fuel supply remotely at any time while they were doing the bugging.
"What's going on?" Asked Fuentes, desperately, trying to restart the boat. "She's never done this before…"
In the sudden silence, the engine of a small but powerful motor launch sounded very loud as it approached at speed.
"I'm sorry, Carmine," said Tony genuinely, in Italian. "I had no choice." Fuentes stared at him, uncomprehending.
"Tony… what have you done?"
The boat engine dropped to idling and three figures climbed aboard the Isabella. Tony turned to call out to them… and froze.
"Good evening, Special Agent DiNozzo," drawled Ari casually, as if they were meeting in the street. "How is being dead suiting you these days?"
The two men at his back were both holding automatic weapons; and both were trained on Tony's heart.
Two words echoed hollowly in his head. Oh, crap.
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Gotta love a cliff. Any questions, comments, flames, or threats of disembowelling for slow updates welcome.