A/N: This chapter is beta'd! Huge thanks to AZgirl for offering her talented services in response to my plea. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Chapter Ten
The basement was damp, dark and disgusting. It was little more than a root cellar with cement walls, and the smell of mold permeated the air. There were no windows, and the only exit was the stairs they were walking down now. As Gibbs all but carried DiNozzo, who was doing his best to walk alongside him, his blue eyes inspected the room thoroughly, looking for anything that might help them out of their current situation. There was little down here save for a few boxes and an old workbench that had been stripped of tools. A single bulb hung in the middle of the room, and he paused, letting DiNozzo take more of his own weight so Gibbs could reach up and pull the string. The light did little to dispel the gloom of what was about to become their prison for the next while. He preferred to think of it as a prison, and not a tomb, though he knew the gun was still trained on their movements as the woman followed them down.
Things had gone to hell in a handbasket faster than Gibbs had expected. The unexpected shooting of a federal agent had apparently been enough to push Carol Lawrence right over the brink. A few minutes earlier, Gibbs had watched in anger as the woman screamed at Tony after shooting him, rushed over to where he had fallen back onto the couch and pushed the weapon up into his jaw as if it were DiNozzo's fault that the bullet had hit him. She had ranted at him, accusing him of trying to screw everything up, and why the hell couldn't he just stay out of it. Wasn't it just like a man, and if only he'd been able to keep it in his pants, then she wouldn't have to kill him. DiNozzo's eyes had slid over to meet with Gibbs' gaze at that point, and Gibbs could hear his thoughts as clearly as if they'd been spoken aloud. Lawrence was confusing DiNozzo with her dead husband, and that didn't bode well for him. For either of them, really.
Gibbs had kept pressure on Tony's abdomen, trying to slow the bleeding while attempting to keep as still as possible so as not to set the woman off again. He'd give nearly anything to take her down since she was standing so close to him, but the sight of the barrel forcing Tony's head back was enough to still his hands for now, though it took a good portion of his self-control. He wouldn't, couldn't take a chance on something that would endanger Tony's life more than it already was, but more than anything, he wanted to see this woman rot in hell for daring to threaten one of his own.
Lawrence's ranting had continued for several minutes, during which time Gibbs held Tony's gaze and tried to offer whatever silent reassurance he could. Finally the woman took a shaky breath and made a visible effort to control herself. She pulled the weapon away from Tony and backed up a few feet, still muttering to herself.
"Get up," she demanded, motioning again with the gun.
Tony let out a grunt that might have been a laugh. "Yeah, 'm thinking that's not gonna happen," he stated the obvious.
"You," she pointed to Gibbs, "help him. Down to the basement. Now."
Gibbs looked apologetically at Tony, knowing this was going to hurt him. He picked up a dishtowel that was hanging off the arm of the couch and pressed it into the wound. Ignoring Tony's muffled groan of pain, he grabbed the agent's right hand and moved it into position to hold the makeshift bandage in place. "Alright. We go up on the count of three, okay?" He reached under Tony's arms and grabbed his belt in the back and counted, assisting the man into a standing position only to then have the task of trying to keep him on his unstable feet.
"Steady, DiNozzo," he cautioned. "Don't you pass out on me." The challenge worked as Gibbs had known it would.
"DiNozzo's don't . . ." Tony tried to collect himself before his words trailed off.
"Hey!" Gibbs barked, hoping to startle the other man awake. "Stay with me, you hear?"
Tony shuddered and then seemed to rally. "Gotcha." He worked to support more of his own weight, drawing upon on his limited supply of energy and raising his head to observe the woman who held them captive. "She looks pissed," he said in a stage whisper to Gibbs.
Gibbs let out a chuckle, immensely relieved that no matter what happened, Tony was still Tony. "You think?"
"Yeah," Tony nodded. "She's a little scary," he confided.
Gibbs snorted at this. "Nah. She's nothing but a bitch with a gun. I'm betting even you could still take her if she put it down." He could see that Lawrence was getting antsy, and he knew he needed to get DiNozzo moving soon.
"You mean, still take her now, right Gibbs? Like this? Because you know I could take her anytime. Could squash her. Not much bigger than Lee," he finished with a mumble.
"Later, killer. You can squash her later, okay? Right now we've got to move. You good to go?"
Tony moved his head from one side to the other, working out a kink, before he squared his shoulders and set to the task ahead of him. Gibbs shifted and took Tony's left arm and pulled it around himself, wrapping his other around DiNozzo and grabbing once again onto Tony's belt, carefully avoiding the wound on his right side. Together they moved towards the stairs, DiNozzo shuffling and Gibbs carrying, all the while aware that the woman behind them was calling the shots only because she held the weapon.
DiNozzo stumbled on the stairs, nearly taking them both down, but Gibbs held him upright until he regained enough equilibrium to continue. They went and sat against the wall where Lawrence pointed them, Gibbs lowering Tony down as gently as he could before sitting reluctantly next to him, close enough that their shoulders were touching.
"Cuff him to the pipe."
Gibbs reached for the cuff dangling from Tony's right wrist and moved to attach it to a small pipe protruding from the wall.
"Not that pipe – the other one."
Resigned, Gibbs attached it to a larger pipe about six inches higher that was much thicker than his original destination. He pulled Tony's left hand over to the now-soaked rag and helped him hold it in place.
"Now yours."
He attached his own cuff to the same pipe and tightened it sufficiently.
"Very good, Agent Gibbs."
He watched her for a moment as she paced anxiously, still muttering to herself, before turning his attention back to Tony, increasing the pressure on the wound as much as he could from his position. DiNozzo grunted, but otherwise held still, his eyes still fixed on Gibbs' face. Gibbs knew that look. It was the one that said that no matter what had happened between them, Tony still trusted Gibbs. Trusted him to be able to stop the bleeding, apprehend the killer and get them out of this fix. Tony still trusted Gibbs, even after all the many ways Gibbs had let him down lately.
Gibbs knew that trust was undeserved.
But what he feared most was that it was also misplaced.
~0~
Abby sighed and rubbed her stomach before placing her elbows on her workbench and resting her chin on her hands. She tried to focus on the images on the screen, but in the past hour they'd looked at picture after picture of family vacations, first days of school, birthday parties and trips to the beach. There was nothing in this photo software that warranted it being encrypted, and she was ready to give up on it as a bust.
"Tired?" McGee asked, taking a break for a minute from enlarging the images.
Abby rolled her eyes and gave him a 'duh' look. "I don't even like looking at this many of your pictures, McGee, and I'm in most of them."
"Hey! My pictures aren't bad."
She squeezed his arm in apology. "I know, Timmy. I didn't mean it. It's just . . ."
McGee waited while she hesitated. "Just what?" he prompted.
"Don't you think Gibbs and Tony should have been back by now?"
"Well, I don't know. I guess it depends on where they went."
"Maybe we should call him."
"You want me to call Gibbs? For no reason?" McGee looked horrified.
Abby scowled at him. "Not for no reason! Just to, you know, check up on him."
"You want me to check up on Gibbs?" McGee didn't look any happier at the thought.
Abby scrunched her lips up, thinking. "Maybe you're right. Call Tony instead."
"Nuh-uh. You do it."
"McGee! You're such a baby! Fine. I'll call him. But I'm telling him you wimped out." She smiled to take the sting out of her words, reaching for her cell and pressing the second speed dial.
"How come Tony is number two on your speed dial?" McGee asked jealously.
"Because Gibbs is number one," she answered, deliberately misunderstanding him.
She waited through several rings before it went to Tony's voice mail, and she frowned. "No answer. And Tony knows better than to break rule number three."
McGee could see she wasn't about to let this go. "Maybe you should call Gibbs."
She looked at him before nodding, pressing number one. When there was no answer there as well, she flipped her phone closed and looked at McGee, a worried frown on her face.
"That doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong, Abby. Maybe they're just in a bad reception area."
"Maybe. But I don't think so, Timmy. Something's hinky. I can feel it in my tummy, and my tummy is never wrong."
~0~
Gibbs listened intently to the sounds of movement overhead. She'd gone up only a few minutes ago, but had yet to leave the house. From the direction of the noise, she was in the bedroom area, perhaps packing up, or maybe just pacing. He took advantage of the time alone to do a visual examination of DiNozzo. The bleeding had slowed to merely oozing, but the rag was soaked through, and Gibbs knew his agent had lost a good amount of blood. Tony sat with his head leaning back against the cold wall, eyes closed. The paleness of his face made the circles under his eyes seem even darker, and though it might be imagined, Gibbs thought he could see just the beginnings of a blue tinge to his lips. His breathing was audible, but the sound actually brought Gibbs comfort. It was better than the alternative.
He shifted his unencumbered left hand from where it was holding pressure on the wound and began to undo the buttons on Tony's shirt one-handed, wanting to confirm there was no exit wound. Tony opened one eye as the coolness of the damp air hit his skin, and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Easy," Gibbs reassured. "Just need to get your shirt open."
Tony closed his eyes again and licked his dry lips. "Yeah, but will you still respect me in the morning?"
Gibbs snorted, the grin coming automatically to his face. "That pre-supposes I respect you now, DiNozzo." He was rewarded when he saw a smile flit across Tony's features.
As Gibbs had feared, the bullet had not left DiNozzo's body, and had no doubt done some significant damage before coming to a stop somewhere amidst Tony's major organs. Gibbs tried not to think about whatever internal bleeding could be going on right now. He was grateful that Tony's coughing had eased up enough so that the agent seemed almost peaceful. They sat in silence for a few moments before Gibbs reached over and unclipped the cell from Tony's waist.
"Anything?" DiNozzo asked, feeling the movement.
"Still no signal."
"Figures. Maybe McGoo can still get a trace on it. Once he figures out we're missing."
"Can you trace a cell that has no service?" Gibbs wondered aloud, making sure the device was still on before stuffing it in his pocket.
"Ummmm," Tony thought a moment. "Dang if I know. That's what I keep McGeek around for." He shifted again, stifling a gasp as he tried to find a more comfortable position, then took a minute to allow his breathing to settle down. Last thing he needed now was a coughing fit. The mere thought of it caused a fresh ripple of pain across his abdomen. "We got a plan?" he asked.
"Not a good one." Gibbs confirmed what Tony already suspected. "You still got your knife?"
Tony rolled his head to look at Gibbs full on and winked. "Rule number nine, Boss."
"Atta-boy, DiNozzo," Gibbs offered. If ever there was a time Tony deserved a compliment, it was now. He reached over and with Tony's fumbling help, removed the knife from the buckle of Tony's belt, remembering that it had already saved DiNozzo's life once before.
"You going to be able to pick the cuffs with that?" Tony asked hopefully.
"Nope. Tip's too big. But if that bitch comes back down the stairs, I plan to be ready for her. You see anything near you that I can pick the locks with?"
Tony looked around as much as he could without moving enough to exacerbate the pain he was already feeling, but the basement was surprisingly clean. "I got nothing. Where's Ziva and her hairpins when we need her?"
Gibbs saw the pain that even the smallest movements brought to Tony's face, and he knew he needed to get the younger man to rest for a bit. He expected an argument when he suggested it, but to his surprise, Tony simply nodded and closed his eyes again, and within minutes his breathing had relaxed somewhat.
As Gibbs sat in the near darkness, he thought he made out the sounds of a car outside. He waited, hoping that perhaps rescue had come, but several minutes passed and when the movement overhead decreased and then ceased altogether, he knew that hope was in vain. He leaned his own head back and worked to come up with a plan.
~0~
"Did you try calling Gibbs again?" Tim asked as he opened up yet another folder of pictures on Lance Corporal Lawrence's computer.
"Still no answer," Abby replied, worry clouding her tone.
"I'm sure they're fine, Abby," McGee stated, though in reality he was certain of no such thing. Even he was starting to feel like things were a little hinky. If nothing else, Tony being alone with Gibbs for this long couldn't possibly be a good thing. It was impossible not to notice the tension that had existed between the two senior most agents on the team since Gibbs had returned from Mexico, and McGee had wondered more than once if it were only a matter of time before Tony handed in his resignation. The thought of that bothered him more than he cared to admit. Sure, he had desires to become Senior Field Agent again someday.
But he didn't want Tony to have to leave in order for that to happen.
Tim nudged her shoulder with his own, wishing Tony were here now to cheer Abby up. He had seen the way the Gothic scientist had come to rely on Tony while Gibbs was gone, and though there was some jealousy on his part, Tim knew there was nothing romantic between the two of them. And he had to acknowledge that Tony seemed able to handle Abby and her mood swings better than any of the rest of them.
She gave him a weak smile and took a sip from the Caf-Pow! that Palmer had dropped off earlier after Tim had sent him a 911 text message.
"Come on. Let's finish up these photos, and maybe we'll have a lead for Gibbs when he returns," McGee suggested.
Abby nodded and waited while he opened up the next batch. She could see immediately that these photos were different from the others. They were dark, obviously taken indoors in low lighting. At first it was hard to make out exactly what they were seeing. They tilted their heads to the left side in unison, squinting and holding the position until Abby's jaw dropped audibly.
"Oh my God, Timmy! Is that what I think it is?"
Tim felt himself blush even as he couldn't tear his gaze away from the screen. He was pretty sure it was exactly what Abby thought it was, but he had a question of his own.
"Is that who I think it is?"
TBC . . .
