Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

I'm back…and had a good time skiing in the French Alps. Had a great time reading the reviews. It definitely kept me smiling and sometimes even laughing. Thanks. Lol Hope you enjoy.

Darkness descends

Ducky stared at the screen, his eyes filled with regret and sorrow. Gibbs could see the medical examiner mouthing a sentence before…

He surged towards Mike with a powerful lunge. He heard a low growl and it took a second or two for him to realise that it was him. The hands against his arms tightened reflexively and pulled him back. Cold, calculated, he mapped out his next moves. Allowing the momentum to continue, he fell backwards and saw the surprise in the one goon's eyes when he didn't resist as they had thought he would. He broke their hold with a simple twist of his body. They turned towards him as he rolled into a crouch. The handcuffs slipped from his wrists and he straightened slowly. The taller man reached behind his back and his eyes grew large when he met nothing but empty air. He realised his mistake when Gibbs lined his gun towards his navel.

His eyes spoke volumes and the smaller man took an involuntary step backwards. Gibbs took note of this on one level, filing it away for future use.

"He was my friend," he said softly, dangerously. No one moved. The only sound that now entered the room came from the laptop. The only reason why the smell of cordite wasn't hanging in the air was Gibbs' self control and the fact that he didn't want to alert the guards outside. He wanted them to suffer.

The small goon's eyes shifted to just over Gibbs' shoulder. He dropped and turned, his finger already tightening. The bullet hit the man that had been sneaking up on him in the chest, jerking him back to slide down against the wall, leaving a bloodied smear in his wake. Gibbs had barely registered the fact, knowing that he had just left his flank open to the two men. He was already rolling away when the tall man slammed into him, desperately grabbing for his gun hand. He jabbed a hard fist into the guy's kidneys and had the satisfaction of hearing him grunt. The smaller man was moving towards them more cautiously, a Beretta targeted towards them. Managing to turn the gun, Gibbs pulled the trigger. The smaller man went down, a groan escaping harshly from his lips, his eyes shut in pain. Using the other man as leverage, Gibbs rolled him over. He could see the fear and panic in the man's eyes but also determination. Grimly, he ignored the hits against his body as he closed a hand around his neck.

He needed to end this quickly and now.

The man below him slumped as the front door opened. The two men from the car were already spreading, moving towards his position. He dived through the door that lead to the hallway and grabbing the first doorway, he used his momentum to skid him around the corner, feeling the passing wind of a slug as it hit the door jamb right beside him. He regulated his breathing, keeping still, just out of sight as he waited.

"Gibbs, you have nowhere to go. Give it up."

He ignored Mike's voice, watching as a gun and then a head cautiously made its appearance. He pulled the man through the doorway and slammed him against the wall. He didn't watch him slump down with barely a groan as he spun and kicked. The second guard bent over with an oof. He stepped around the man, intent for the door and Mike when he felt his foot being grabbed. Not having expected anything; how many men can really move when they were kicked in the balls, he twisted in mid-air. He never really knew what he intended. All he was fairly clear of was the blinding pain from where his head struck the door. He glared at Mike as the man stepped into his viewpoint before unconsciousness finally decided to catch up to him.


"His name is James Prytz. He is wanted by Interpol on related charges ranging from kidnapping to murder." McGee took a deep breath and tried to ignore the tickling in his throat. Not succeeding, he finally allowed the cough to emerge.

"Shouldn't you be home, Agent McGee?" Director Morrow asked worriedly, a small line forming between his eyebrows. McGee shook his head as he took a small sip of water. It helped to soothe his throat and keep the tickling under control.

"He is part of an international group that call themselves Necros. They have ties in drug cartels in the States, UK and Europe. Interpol still have no idea who heads the group or where they are located. Men that are suspected as having ties to the group and that have been targeted by the police disappear and are never heard of or seen again. Those within the police community that have gone after them have also disappeared."

"Very well, I understand that these are dangerous men. Why are you telling me all this, Agent McGee and for that matter where is Gibbs?"

McGee swallowed and nervously pulled at the tie. His breathing was difficult and sore and he really wanted nothing more than to have Abby give him a warm drink and his bed. "Gibbs is unavailable at present," he answered, testing the water. The director stared at McGee, the growing irritation evident on his features.

"What exactly does not available at present mean, McGee?"

McGee met the irate Director's gaze fully before calmly replying, "He's not answering his phone. We suspect that Necros might have gotten hold of him."

"You suspect!" Morrow exploded, his eyes narrowing. "And what else do you suspect, Agent McGee and please do not take me for an idiot."

McGee sighed and suppressed another coughing bout. He used the fact that he had to blow his nose as time to sort his thoughts.

"It all began yesterday…"


"You're so busted, Tony. They're going to skin you alive."

Abby's voice continued to taunt while he tried to find a hiding place. The voices where coming closer, the footsteps louder. Gibbs smirked knowingly at him before turning towards the doorway and calling out. Ok, even for illusions, he had never thought Gibbs to do that. Finding nowhere else to go, he finally settled behind the couch with Abby's feet dangling in front of his eyes. He still had the phone clutched in one hand, hoping to get a better look at it as soon as he can get the handcuffs off. He leaned against the comfort of the couch, enjoying the feeling of something soft beneath him. The voices faded away again. He promised himself to close his eyes briefly, just for rest and faded away.

Something soft brushed against his leg. His nose tickled and he wriggled it before languidly opening one eye. A small ginger cat had settled against his leg, curled up, green eyes watching him lazily. Great, a cat. He's in the middle of a house full of deadly villains, surrounded by illusions, and he has a cat curling around his leg. He nearly sneezed and his eyes started to tear.

"Tony's allergic to cats, Abby," McGee sneered at Tony as he knelt by the cat. Abby jumped from her seating place and pouted. She looked at Tony sadly and said softly, "I'm sorry, Tony but we can't be friends anymore. See, I love cats, especially black ones and I can't be friends with someone who's allergic. I'm sure you'd understand."

Tony shifted his leg, bringing it in so that he was seated cross legged. He took a quick glance over the top of the couch. The doorway was still empty. The cat lay quiet for a moment before gracefully rising and sauntering closer, tail in the air.

"Go away," Tony whispered, nudging at the ginger haired body with his foot. The cat ignored him and continued to rub against his leg, purring away. Small footsteps stopped him from rising and he tried to contain a sneeze that had been threatening since he opened his eyes and saw the visitor.

"Garfield?"

The whispered voice softly entered the room. Tony felt his insides clench while he tried to nudge the cat around the couch without being seen. The voice called again and Garfield finally gave a small meow before plopping himself down next to Tony.

Damn cat. Waiting for the inevitable, he relaxed. What surprised him was when the owner of the voice finally emerged from around the couch. It wasn't a six foot four baddie. It was a boy, no older than ten. He had blond hair that stood up in all directions. His clothes were smeared with dirt streaks. One knee was scratched and Tony guessed that the boy must have fallen sometime in the last hour. The blood had congealed in a long streak down his leg, leading to scruffy trainers. He gave his best Dinozzo smile and said, "Hi," while Kate glared down at him from behind the boy. The boy glanced at the doorway before crouching down behind the coach. Eying Tony warily, he pointed at the cat and whispered, "That's my cat."

"He came to me. You can have him back, if you want," Tony whispered. "I'm Tony and I guess that's Garfield. What's your name?"

The boy looked at him suspiciously. "You're bleeding."

"I fell and hurt my head."

The boy nodded. Picking up the cat, he settled next to Tony. "I'm Brian."

Kate continued to glare while Gibbs leaned against the wall. "Do you live here?"

The boy shook his head and then leaned closer. "My daddy works here. He cooks for Mr Del Monte. I'm allowed to live with my daddy cause my mommy died. I'm not supposed to be in this part of the house but my cat got inside when one of the men left the kitchen door open and Mr Del Monte doesn't really like cats, so I had to find him before he came back."

The boy had just given Tony a lot of information unknowingly. "What does Mr Del Monte look like?"

"Oh, he's old and he's a mean. I don't like him," Brian replied with conviction. Tony nodded, again seeing the man that had stood next to Mike at the warehouse. Footsteps sounded and he watched Brian's eyes widen with fear.

"Brian, can you make a phone call?"

The boy glanced at the doorway before shaking his head. "I'm not allowed. Mr Del Monte gets really angry when I do something wrong." Tony understood the boy's fear when he looked into his haunted eyes. They told him everything and held nothing back. Time was running out and he couldn't risk the boy getting caught. But he had another plan that might work. Turning so that the boy could see the phone in his hand, he pleaded, "Brian, can you do me a favour? I want you to take this phone and bring it to me later. But don't let them catch you with it. Can you do that?"

The boy clutched the cat tighter before nodding quickly. Taking the phone, he slowly slid it into the pocket of his shorts. "I have to go or I'll be in big trouble. I'll come later when everyone's sleeping." He watched the boy disappear through the doorway. Half a minute later a very pissed off James found him.


Gibbs woke to softness. Grimacing, he touched his head and found a bump the size of the Empire State building. Tenderly probing the area, he found that the skin had not broken.

"I'm glad you're awake, Gibbs. You cost me four men."

Stony silence settled between them. Gibbs was lying on the coach with Mike seated across him, his gun openly on his knee, pointed in his direction. Gibbs shifted into a seated position slowly.

"I was told that you would string my up by my entrails."

Gibbs gave a cold smile that never reached his eyes. "I guess Tony told me the truth. So tell me Gibbs. How do I ensure your cooperation without killing any more of your people?"

"Give yourself up."

Mike laughed and then shook his head. "That I cannot do. No, I think I have a solution." He nodded and then hands pulled Gibbs tight against the back of the couch. He reached for the arm across his throat but stopped when Mike lifted the gun from his knee. His phone rang and someone pressed it against his ear.

"Agent Gibbs?"

"Yes." His voice was barely audible but he managed.

"I'm Doctor Monroe calling from Bethesda's ICU unit. I have some bad news."

His stomach plummeted while Mike smiled.

"Kate Todd fell into a coma about an hour ago. There's nothing more we can do for her. Your man already signed the papers for her to be moved to the neurology ward at St Claire's."

"Thank you for letting me know. I'll be in touch." The phone was taking away and he didn't struggle.

"Her life is now in your hands, Agent Gibbs. Will you do as we ask?"

He shoulders dropped slightly but this time it wasn't an act. Mike rose, tucking the gun into a side holster.

"You will be wired for your own protection. Remove it or alert anyone towards that fact and one of them will die. You will convince the director to let this case go. You will close this case. Then, you will receive a phone call and we'll give you your next instructions."

Gibbs grunted an affirmative. Mike stared at him, gauging his reaction. "The evidence you left at the ME's house will be destroyed. His death was unfortunate but you gave us no choice. Do not force me to kill any more of your people."

Gibbs noted that he Mike didn't give any promises regarding his own life. He had no doubt that when all was said and done, that Mike will kill him.

Don't let them win.

It was the words that Ducky had spoken just before he had stood and watched while the man behind the ME had pulled the trigger. Ducky had fallen forward, his body deflating. He had not registered that the focus of the camera had been slightly distorted but now that he had time, it was something that tucked at his gut.

He kept quite, compliant when they prodded him from the couch and towards his room. He was allowed to shower and get dressed. A small button was placed on his collar and he didn't interfere. Throughout it all Mike watched him with hawk eyes, scrutinising his every move.

One of the men opened the car door for him, handing the keys. He started towards NCIS, noticing that he was being tailed. No surprise there. He had expected as much. Everything he did was automatic while his thoughts raced for solutions. Through it all, he kept his focus on Ducky's words.

Don't let them win.

Hell would freeze over before he'd allow that.


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