The author wishes to apologize for her tardiness. She claimed 24-48 hours for an update. It has now been closer to 192 hours. On the bright side, here's an update...
Jay knew something was wrong the second she stepped out of the bath. Worry, for the moment, overtook practicality, she secured a towel around herself, and grabbed her Taurus Millennium from where she'd laid it on the toilet seat, checked the chamber out of habit, clipped her phone onto her ear and slipped silently through the apartment with it at the ready. It took her five minutes to ascertain two things. One: she'd overestimated the security system and let her guard down too far. Two: Tony was missing.
"Shit!" she cursed harshly, refraining from punching the wall. She hit the 'Call' button on her headset. "Call, Tantalus." She paced restlessly as she waited, one hand clutching her gun and towel to her chest.
"Yello?" the welcome voice of Simon 'Tantalus' Carmichael echoed over the earpiece.
"Si?" she questioned needlessly. "We got a situation…" She reeled off the pertinent details about Tony going missing, and gave the address. It was only after she'd hung up that she realized she'd need to call Gibbs. She exhaled sharply and hit the call button again. "Call…" she reeled off Gibbs' cell number and waited
"Gibbs?" the curt tone was completely at odds with Tantalus' laconic response.
"Tony's gone," she snapped. "Get here now."
She hung up without waiting for a response. A sigh escaped her lips, and she paced the apartment restlessly, clutching her handgun to her chest in comfort. Gibbs and his team stormed the apartment guns drawn and Jay span to face them, bringing her gun up, finger tightening on the trigger. She relaxed, her shoulders slumping, and her spare hand coming up to clutch at the towel. Tantalus appeared in the doorway.
"This a private party or can anyone join in?" he asked.
"Who the hell are you?" Gibbs demanded.
"Simon Carmichael, everyone," Jay stated wearily, gesturing between the NCIS team and Tantalus. "Everyone, Simon Carmichael, otherwise known as Tantalus. He's been shadowing Ducky. I called him in."
"On who's orders?"
"My own prerogative. We need more muscle, and with Tony gone, I want back-up. Plus, this makes Si's job easier. He can do it without having to sneak around."
Gibbs glared at Carson who glared back. He didn't like this woman, not one shred, she was shrewd, cold, young, and not the kind of person to back down (that said, Ducky had stared her down earlier). He also didn't like the introduction of another one of her colleagues into the mess, it was likely to either overcomplicate things, or make them even more dangerous than before. He also didn't like that Carson was stood in the middle of his Senior Field Agent's longue in a bath-towel and nothing else, clutching a gun to her chest like a teddy-bear (it made him wonder what her upbringing had been like that she equated a gun with comfort).
"Do you mind if I get dressed?" Carson asked tartly. "It's a bit chilly stood here in a towel, and I'm sure I'd be more helpful in clothes."
Gibbs gave a dismissive wave, and decided not to stop Carmichael as he followed the younger woman. He could hear quiet conversation from DiNozzo's room and quickly set his team to processing the rest of the apartment – he might not think much of Carson, but it was obvious that she was fond of DiNozzo, and he doubted that she'd tamper with evidence that might help them locate him. Gibbs noted the pictures on the side-table, and picked up the one face-down, intrigued. He noticed it was of a teen leant against a sea-front wall at sunset. The girl was anorexically thin, an angry brand-mark he could almost see pulsing in the middle of her upper back, a set of tally-mark tattoos covering her lower back, and a barcode tattoo on her shoulder. He frowned at it, there was something familiar about the woman…
Carson and Carmichael reappeared, Carson now dressed, with one of Tony's shirts slung around her shoulders. She quickly filled him in on what she knew, with surprisingly few embellishments, just fired off the facts – like a combat-trained soldier Gibbs noted idly – offering that the bedroom and en suite could be ruled out as she certainly would've heard something if they'd been in there. Gibbs nodded and they focused their search on the hall bathroom, Carson pulling on a set of leather gloves as opposed to a set of latex ones like the NCIS team. Carmichael just tucked his hands behind his back and pleaded off due to the fact that he'd never been in the apartment before.
Gibbs looked over at Carson who was inspecting the shower-room from outside the door.
"Anything out of place?" he asked.
"You mean aside from the fact that Tony's missing and his clothes are still here?" Carson asked incuriously. "Yeah, the bottles over there have been messed with… Not much, but it's something. Oh, and you might want to steam up the mirror. Tony liked long, hot showers. A message may have been left on the mirror."
"Anything else?"
"Can't think of anything else…can I go back to Murphy's and threaten the bartenders now?"
"Not without me."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"To finish up here."
Carson stuck her tongue out at him, and stalked restlessly around the living room. She saw the photo Gibbs had righted and snapped the frame back face-down, her lips twisting into a deadly scowl. Gibbs absently picked up one of the photo albums while Kate and McGee processed the small bathroom. It held pictures of the same anorexic teen, Tony, a woman who was obviously Tony's late wife, and occasionally a baby boy which Gibbs assumed was Dante. Carson gave a frustrated sigh and stalked back into Tony's room, Gibbs shadowed her silently, unsure of what she was doing. When he got there, he found her sat on the floor, a rifle case in front of her. She barely glanced up before opening the case and rapidly assembling the rifle (Gibbs checked his watch – an impressively fast time). Then, she broke it down again and checked each of the individual components to see if they needed cleaning, producing a cleaning kit to do so. She looked up at Gibbs after a few minutes.
"Surprised?" she asked steadily, her hands continuing to move.
Gibbs decided not to say anything. Carson snorted quietly, returning her attention to the rifle.
"Don't be, I was practically raised with a gun in my hand. I'll bet I can handle this rifle better than you can."
"Is that a fact?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
"No, it's a bet. I don't know which of us is better. It'd be fun finding out though." She flashed him a sharp grin, while her eyes seemed to be ages old, like some of the old combat vets Gibbs had seen in his day. "Besides, this is just me trying to calm down, it's soothing to be able to clean a gun, mine's already fine."
Well at least one of Gibbs' questions was answered – the reason she was so comfortable clutching a gun to her bare skin - she's been raised with guns.
"Um boss?" Kate came in looking both confused and nervous. "You might want to look at this…"
Carson rose to her feet to follow the two agents.
On the now dusted mirror a sentence stood out. 'Bishop takes Rook. Your move Agent Gibbs.'
"Mean anything to you?" Gibbs looked at Carson who had a furious look on her face.
"It's O'Reilly," she ground out, her hand clenching and obviously trying not to punch the wall. "He plays chess. He looks at this 'battle' in terms of chess. It's what he does. Can we go and threaten the bartenders at Murphy's now?"
Gibbs looked over at her, and then nodded to her. "Yeah. McGee, Kate, finish up here. Carson, you're with me."
"And me?" Carmichael asked from where he was leant against a wall.
"You stay here with McGee and Kate. Then go back to the Yard with them. Carson, c'mon."
"Give me a second to grab my gear," Carson nodded towards the bedroom, already heading for it rapidly. Two minutes later she returned, throwing a rucksack onto one shoulder carefully.
They arrived at Murphy's with a screech of tires, and a still unimpressed looking Jay. They climbed out of the car, Jay's gun now in a holster on her hip, covered mostly by her jacket. They strode into the bar. It was fairly empty – not yet opening time, and the few patrons took one look at the pair entering and decided that getting coffee elsewhere was a good idea. Hitters' maybe, but idiots they were not. Jay leapt up and sat on the bar itself, grabbing the bartender and pulling him close.
"Now you're going to tell me where O'Reilly is," she stated calmly.
"I am?" the man retorted. "He'd kill me."
Jay frowned and glanced over at the silent, threatening looking Gibbs. "I can't legally shoot him can I?"
"Legally no," Gibbs stated. "But there's something over in the corner of the club I want to take a look at, I'll be back shortly."
Jay smiled wickedly as Gibbs turned his back and headed for the back of the club, clearly getting where she was going. She freed her gun from its holster and pointed it at the man's knee.
"Where's O'Reilly?" she asked in a far too pleasant voice. "It's either you give him up, or you lose your kneecaps."
The bartender actually looked panicked at that thought. "Look, I don't know where he is! I just know he's somewhere near here. He doesn't actually tell me where his base is!"
"Who would know?"
"I-"
"Who would know?" Jay clicked the safety off her gun. She noticed Gibbs glancing back, clearly worried she actually would shoot the guy.
"O'Reilly hitters! I couldn't name them all! You probably know who they are better than I do!"
Jay smiled frostily. "Thank you. That wasn't so hard now was it?"
The bartender merely glared balefully at her. She turned slightly and nodded to Gibbs as he walked back over.
"Find what you were looking for?"
"Yes," Gibbs nodded.
"You actually work with her?" the bartender asked amazed.
"Not exactly."
"She's, she's…"
Jay turned to look at him, smiled sweetly, and leapt off the bar.
"You crazy bitch!" the bartender exclaimed. Jay's face went stony, she turned around leant over the bar and shot the bartender's knee out. He went down screaming.
"You're right," she grinned. "But I use it to my advantage. Good day. Oh shut up, it's not that painful, I didn't shatter your kneecap."
She turned and stalked out, Gibbs taking a look at the man on the floor before deciding that it would probably be a better idea just to get the hell out of dodge. He found Jay making a call.
"Hello, yes, I'd like to report a gunshot victim…" she stated, her accent suddenly sounding Australian. "Uh-huh, no, I can't stay on the line sorry… Here's the address…" She reeled off the address for Murphy's and then hung up the phone. She gave Gibbs a strained smile. "Sorry, 'bout that. This way he won't have a chance to call O'Reilly."
"And you figure that how?"
"Well, the phone was a good ten metres from where I dropped him, the ambulance crew won't let him make a call, he won't cough to knowing O'Reilly at the hospital and all outgoing calls are monitored."
Gibbs couldn't help but be slightly impressed by Carson's reasoning and obvious knowledge of what was going on.
"Shall we get back to the Navy Yard?"
Gibbs decided to test Carson, he offered her the car keys. "You drive."
Carson smirked at him. "You sure you want me to do that?"
Gibbs just gave her an implacable stare and she shrugged.
"Coolio."
By the time they reached the Yard, Gibbs was regretting his decision, Carson didn't seem aware that there was such a thing as a Highway Code – sure Gibbs might ignore it, but he obeyed the more important rules in it most of the time. They headed up to the bullpen where Carmichael shot a look at them.
"You let Carson drive?" he sounded slightly amazed. "Hell I only do that when ordered to let her drive. She learnt as a getaway driver."
"Bullshit!" Carson exclaimed, hitting Carmichael on the shoulder in a comradely fashion. "You let me drive when you want to terrify our passengers!"
The two of them trailed off when they noticed the glare Gibbs was aiming at them. He continued to glare until they started to shift uncomfortably.
"He's like Nemesis isn't he?" Carmichael noted to Carson. She nodded.
"Oh yeah. What do you want us to do Gibbs?"
"Find out where O'Reilly is holding my second ten minutes ago, Todd, McGee, you too," Gibbs ground out. "I'm going to get Dante."
"You'll want these," Carson rooted through her bag before handing Gibbs a container with hearing aids in them. "Lee can sign both BSL and LIS so he doesn't need them with her."
Gibbs frowned slightly at Carson and then left to go and collect Tony's son – he didn't want the boy out there when his father had been kidnapped. It annoyed him that he hadn't ordered Kate and McGee to go and collect the boy – then again, Carson's cold contained fury at O'Reilly's involvement and her determination to go and threaten GBH to the bartender at Murphy's had taken up most of his attention, but he was cursing himself for the slip-up.
Gibbs returned to the bullpen an hour later, having deposited Dante with Abby – and leaving the two of them eagerly teaching each other their sign language. Carson and Carmichael had appropriated Tony's desk, place the keyboard to one side and were arguing over a map, both pointing out various locations and striking them off what was obviously a mental checklist (Gibbs could tell that the argument was them playing devil's advocate, and Carmichael had a pad resting next to his hand which he occasionally made a note on). Kate and McGee had their heads buried in their computers, obviously going over what they already knew.
"Report," Gibbs rapped out.
"We're working on where O'Reilly might be based," Carson barely looked up, her eyes still scanning the map. "Anywhere within a reasonable driving distance, not more than an hour, and not towards a city. Possibly a warehouse district, abandoned industrial estate, that kind of thing."
"McGee?"
"None of the cameras near Tony's apartment show anything out of the ordinary," McGee reported. "And there's no sign of Tony beyond him and Ms Carson going in…"
"Well duh!" Carmichael mumbled. "They're not idiots. Of course they're not on the CCTV…"
"Si," Carson hissed at him.
Gibbs ignored them turning to Kate and lifting an eyebrow. Kate leant back in her seat, pulling a pad towards her.
"From what I can tell, O'Reilly is an incredibly sadistic man," she started. Gibbs caught both Carmichael and Carson shuddering slightly out of the corner of his eyes. "Quite possibly psychopathic from his actions in Murphy's…" She didn't mention that Carson's actions had been very similar, although it wasn't clear who'd moved first, so the woman in the bullpen could argue self-defence, especially after he'd put her down. "I'd guess at anger management issues. Either way he's a very dangerous man. As for Samurai, from his single-minded pursuit of you, I'd guess he's obsessive but probably not a psychopath."
Gibbs nodded to himself. That tallied up with his thinking. He shot a look over to where Carmichael and Carson were both sharing an impressed look.
"Alright, back to work," Gibbs ordered.
They all ducked their heads back to what they were doing, and Gibbs stalked down to Autopsy to talk to Ducky.
"Ah, Jethro," Ducky greeted him. "How goes the search?"
"We're working on it," Gibbs stated.
"Not well then. Are there any clue?"
"If Carmichael and Carson are finding anything, they're not telling us."
"I'm sure they would, from what I've observed of young Jay at least, she cares deeply for Anthony."
"Yeah, and I'm wondering how deeply. And what their past is."
"I suspect the only way of doing that is to ask either one of them about it. But I suspect they shall both be rather close-lipped on the subject. You saw how they were in the gym."
Gibbs nodded.
"Do you want a cup of tea?" Ducky offered blandly. "I think it would help you relax slightly."
"I don't want to relax! I want to find DiNozzo!"
"You'll find him. But you're of no use to anyone if you're working yourself up about it."
Gibbs glared at Ducky, who as ever was being horrifically rational.
"Jethro, be reasonable, you have an excellent team…"
"Minus my best investigator!"
Ducky continued as though Gibbs had never spoken. "…And the assistance of two people who know who you are dealing with. Do not doubt the people you are working with."
Gibbs stayed silent. He couldn't help but doubt Carson and Carmichael, they were hit-people. They killed for personal gain, or they had, perhaps they still did. He'd killed for his country, and he may have killed the murderer of his wife and daughter, but he'd felt guilt afterwards. He could tell from their reactions to any discussion about death that they felt no remorse for the people they'd killed. They would do what was best for them – not for the NCIS team. They were loose canons. But something told him they'd still get Tony back as safe as possible…but would they do it in a way that meant Gibbs would have to arrest them? There was doubt warring with a form of trust in his mind.
"They will get Anthony back," Ducky as always, seemed to read Gibbs' mind. "They seem to care about him as much as yourself, Caitlin and Timothy."
Gibbs looked down. "Perhaps. But what lengths do you think they'll be willing to go to?"
"Miss Carson will probably put her life down for Anthony. I saw the look in her eye when you all returned to here. She is willing to go above and beyond what anyone else here would – because she is capable of doing so without having guilt chase her."
Gibbs frowned, he hadn't considered the possibility that Carson's lack of guilt would actually prove to be a boon to them, rather than a con. He nodded and left, heading back up to the bullpen. Carmichael had just grabbed something out of Carson's hands.
"Antonino Ginelli?" Carmichael exclaimed. "What the hell Carson?"
"Bullshit," Carson responded, snatching the slip of paper back and very effectively shredding it into Tony's bin. "Leave it alone Si." The threat under her words was obvious, and Carmichael took it, and left her alone.
Gibbs blinked – Antonino Ginelli? Who the hell was that? And what the hell had that slip of paper said? Chances of finding out were now close to none seeing as it had been torn into so many tiny pieces Gibbs was unlikely to be able to locate them all, and Abby may like jigsaws and puzzles, but she didn't like them that much.
Oh, and you will find out who the girl in the pictures is :-D
