11.

It was unfortunate, but by the time Roger Lambert had been taken back to NCIS and booked, Lawrence Harrison had somehow learned of the arrest and fled.

"His father?" Tony wondered as they left Lawrence's offices empty-handed.

"No, I doubt it." Gibbs dismissed the idea. "Enough people saw us escort Lambert out in cuffs."

"Secretaries, aides. They gossip. Someone working with father calls a friend working for the son. 'You'll never guess what I saw.' Yeah, I can see that happening."

"BOLO. Alert airport security."

"I'll start making the calls now." He matched action to words, pulling his cell phone out while Gibbs drove them back to the Navy Yard.

Once inside the building, Tony settled at his desk, widening their net by searching for possible refuge locations. Gibbs headed to the upper floor to update Director Morrow on the status of the case.

When the phone rang sometime later, Tony hoped for a sighting or some type of lead. "DiNozzo."

"Detective DiNozzo, it is time for you to return to your job."

"Captain Tidwell?"

"There's an undercover assignment that requires your participation. Be back here in two hours and report to Captain Rydell."

"Captain, we're not done with this case yet. I need a couple more days, sir."

"I'm certain that NCIS can operate without your assistance, Detective. Rydell needs you here to brief you on your assignment."

"With all due respect, Captain, Rydell has more than enough men to send on any undercover job he's thought up."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm seeing this case through."

"The hell you are! I'm giving you a direct order, Detective. Get your ass back to the station or consider yourself on report."

Tony compared his current work environment with that in Baltimore. He knew there were good, hardworking cops everywhere, but lately it seemed like he was surrounded by people with only their own interests at heart. People like Captain Robert Tidwell who was so focused on his political career that justice was not even on his horizon.

"Are you listening to me?" Tidwell's voice was loud enough to be heard by anyone in the immediate vicinity of his office. "Your liaison position is over, effective immediately."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't leave. Do whatever you have to do." With that, Tony hung up.

When his cell rang again, Tony expected to find his irate supervisor on the line. Instead it was a possible sighting of Lawrence Harrison. He quickly grabbed his jacket, surprised to find Gibbs already halfway down the stairs.

"Got a response to our BOLO. A county mountie spotted a man matching Larry boy's description staying at a resort in Evergreen, Virginia."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Gibbs asked as he strode past the other man on the way to the elevator.

"Huh?" Tony hurried to catch up. "I wasn't…you weren't…argghh!" It didn't escape Tony's sharp green gaze that there was a smile dancing around the special agent's lips. He shook his head as he slipped between the silver doors as they closed.

~NCIS~

"Gibbs, I think you've broken the land speed record getting here." Tony wiped a cold sweat from his brow, before holding out his trembling hand out to watch. "See what you're doing to my nerves?"

"Suck it up, DiNozzo." He ignored his temporary partner as he headed to the waiting sheriff's deputy, parked out of sight in a shaded park. "Gibbs, NCIS." He flipped his badge and identification.

"Prindable." The deputy introduced himself with a nod. "Got your BOLO. There's a guy who's staying at the Albright cabin, dead ringer for your guy."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Not much. He's a stranger to this area. The Albrights rent their place out, usually to hunters or fishermen. Leila at the Corner Mart said he bought enough frozen meals to last a week or two, along with beer and wine. He gave her the creeps, seemed to be hanging around the parking lot, watching her. Ray, the manager, told him to leave before he called the cops. I watched the security feed, realized he looked like your guy."

"What about the Albright place?"

"Rural. The cabin is in a fairly clear area, makes any quiet approach difficult. Which I'm assuming you want to do?"

"If possible. Show me what we're facing."

With Tony looking on, Deputy Prindable spread a topographical map out on the back of his cruiser. He pointed out the existing coverage to Gibbs, discussing a plan of action.

"We need a distraction to give you time to get into position," Tony said, suddenly leaning halfway into Deputy Prindable's car. He came out with a baseball cap and a small pizza delivery box.

"That's my lunch."

Gibbs stared at the young detective. "Delivery?"

"Yep." Tony glanced at the sedan. "I need a vehicle, something clunky."

Prindable thought for a moment before nodding. "I can get you a car. Let me make a call."

Tony began to pull off his shoulder holster, then his polo, tossing them into the back seat of the NCIS sedan after slipping his pistol into the back of his jeans. He leaned in to snag his bag, dropping it on the trunk lid. He dug out a rolled up t-shirt and shook out the wrinkles. He pulled the red and white striped shirt on, smoothing out some of the wrinkles.

"Polo shirt too clean?" Gibbs asked in curiosity.

"Too expensive. Struggling college students who deliver pizza don't have money for designer clothing. And, believe me, Larry boy would spot it immediately. Good thing I'm wearing my jeans today because I don't have a spare pair in here."

A few moments later there was the sound of chugging and backfires as a pitiful Mustang struggled down the road. There was a pained look on Tony's face as the car bounced to a stop beside him, the engine continuing even after the key was turned off.

Not noticing, Prindable was shaking the hand of the pot-bellied man who had driven the abused vehicle to them. "Thank you for bringing us something, Wallace."

"This is a 1966 Mustang, isn't it?" Tony asked, gently running his hands over the rusty hood.

"Yeah. Been rotting at the back of my station for years. I should just junk it for parts." The old man spat on the ground for emphasis.

"No," Tony moaned. "Look, when this is over with, I'd like to talk to you about buying her."

"Needs a lot of work, son."

"No problem." He held his hand out for the keys. "But in the meantime, I think we have something more important to do first. Gibbs, you ready?"

"Give us about 10 minutes to get into position, then do your thing." The NCIS Special Agent glared when he saw Tony remove his weapon, leaning down to stash it on the floor of the Mustang.

Noticing, Tony shrugged. "He might see it. I can still get to it quickly enough."

Gibbs grunted in reply.

Tony watched as Gibbs and Prindable slipped off into the brush, getting into position to wait for the needed distraction. He leaned into the Mustang's open passenger window, placing the empty pizza boxes on the seat. He gave a gentle pat to the car's dirty white hood as he walked around to the driver's side. "Remember what Prindable said. Stay back no matter what happens."

"No problem. You serious about buying this rust bucket, son?"

The detective grinned. "You bet I am. With a little TLC, this baby could be a beauty."

Tony climbed into the car, using the rearview mirror to assess his look. He ran his fingers through his hair to help offset the professional salon look he currently sported. Adopting a bored demeanor, Tony started the engine, heading up the gravel driveway.

As if to help get Lawrence Harrison's attention, the Mustang gave off a series of loud backfires as he pulled up by the front door. Grabbing the two pizza boxes, Tony saw a shadow behind the front window curtain. He pounded on the door with his fist.

"Pizza."

There was no answer, but Tony could sense someone was on the other side of the door. He slammed his fist against the wood once more.

"Pizza! C'mon, man, I'm not getting ripped off again. You're gonna pay for this or I'm callin' the cops, asshole!" He slid his fingers into his jean pocket as if searching for his cell phone, making a display of trying to balance the pizza boxes on his other hand.

The front door opened slowly, Harrison's face peering out. "I didn't order any pizza."

"Yeah, right. The bill's twenty four bucks."

"I'm telling you I'm not paying for something I didn't order."

"And I'm telling you that I'm tired of getting ripped off by you guys calling in an order, then denying it. I've gotta pay for every pizza I take out of the shop. I've had it. You either pay for this or I'm bringing in the cops."

Grimacing, Harrison held his hand up. "Look, I didn't order anything, but I'll be glad to get something to eat." He dug out his wallet, pulling out a twenty and a five, handing it to Tony.

Tony dropped the boxes, reaching out to grab Harrison's wrist. When the man started to pull back, he felt a pistol press into his neck.

"What the…"

"Lawrence Harrison, you're under arrest for the murder of Corporal Ramon Gonzalez, the attempted rape and assault of Faith Lindsey and Rebecca Malone, the rape of Lavonia Montgomery, Lois Brennan, Trina Henderson, Precious Gunia, and Brenda Trott."

"You can't do this to me! Do you know who I am?"

Pulling his cuffs out, Gibbs tossed them to Tony. "Yeah, we know exactly who and what you are. Scum."

The Baltimore detective took extreme delight in yanking the suspect's arms behind him, slapping the cuffs on a bit tighter than they needed to be. "Your daddy isn't gonna get you out of this mess. He'll throw you to the wolves."

After an initial struggle and some spirited cursing, Harrison was hustled outside to wait for the NCIS sedan that Deputy Prindable was bringing up the driveway.

"Well, that was rather anti-climatic," Tony commented. "I was expecting a harrowing chase into the woods, with an exchange of various types of gunfire, but Larry boy doesn't even seem capable of doing that."

"Wanna bet?" Gibbs responded, one eyebrow quirked. "Check inside the front door."

Puzzled, the younger man loped back to the house, sticking his head around the frame. There was a shotgun leaning against the wall, while a pistol was in plain sight on the small end table, both within easy reach of Harrison if he had been spooked. His walk back to where Gibbs was stuffing Harrison into the back seat of the sedan was much slower as he considered what could've happened.

Arriving at the car, he looked at the man who had probably saved his life. "Thanks, Gibbs."

"There was no way I could drive this piece of crap back on my own," Gibbs said gruffly, avoiding eye contact with Tony.

A wide grin on his face, Tony was about to make some further comment when he saw Wallace trudging up the driveway to retrieve the Mustang. "Hey, Wallace! I really will come back to buy this car. Give me your number, I'll call you next week."

Tony scribbled down Wallace's phone number and address, handing the mechanic one of his cards through the driver's window as well. "Don't junk her, 'kay?"

The old man nodded, coaxing the vehicle out off the property. Tony watched wistfully as the abused classic disappeared from sight.

A slap on the back of his head had him reaching up while twisting around. Gibbs stood behind him, having fastened the seatbelt around the cuffed suspect.

"What the hell was that for?" he blurted.

"Get in the car. You'll see your girl again." Gibbs shook his head. "I might even be willing to drive you back here."

"Really? Cool! I was kinda wondering who I could get to help me. I'll probably need a flatbed," Tony said as he climbed into the backseat to sit beside a sullen Lawrence Harrison.

During the long drive back, Gibbs learned about more great car movies than he ever knew existed, rendered in voices the Special Agent didn't recognize.

Harrison has gone from refusing to talk…

"Nobody's asking you to. Gibbs, did you know that Ron Howard's directorial debut was Grand Theft Auto? It was a cool little film, almost a cult classic, but you could really the see the hints of his talent and later success with the biggies like Night Shift and Cocoon."

…to declaring that his father would get them thrown off the police force…

"Seriously? Because I've been thinking about a career change. Maybe I should move to Hawaii, become a private detective like Thomas Magnum. You ever see Magnum, P.I.? He drove my ideal car, a red Ferrari. Of course, it really belonged to Robin Masters, but T.M. is the one who used it. I never believed that Higgins was really Robin Masters, don't know where they came up with that one."

…and finally begging for Gibbs to shut the Baltimore police detective's mouth, seemingly on the verge of confessing to anything just to get some peace and quiet.

"We're here," Gibbs announced, pulling up at the Navy Yard. "We'll need to arrange transfer of custody from NCIS to the Baltimore Police, but that can wait until later."

Tony maneuvered their prisoner out of the vehicle, escorting him inside the building while Gibbs arranged for detention. His mood began to slump when he realized that soon he would be back to struggling for cases in Baltimore. Maybe it really was time to look around.