Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and I am making no money from this.
As always many, many thanks for the reviews, alerts etc, it really does help to know that people enjoy what you write and that the story does actually make sense. VP.
Silently he looked down to the main entrance to the terminal and raised his hand.
"They want us to hold on the exit ramp to gate H Captain," Joe Andrews, Co-Pilot of Flight 923 reported.
"They say why?" Pete Olsen wondered, turning in his seat to face his Co-Pilot.
"Nope," Andrews shook his head. "Some trouble at the gate, they're sending a bus for the passengers. Once they're off loaded we can proceed on to Gate H."
"Fair enough," Olsen nodded his head, easy going as always as he steered the Boeing 777 towards the exit ramp, allowing Andrews to make the announcement to the passengers.
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Mark Spinelli smiled as the signal came from the control tower and immediately turned and made a signal of his own to the captain in charge of their special forces. The elite group had worked for them many times and needed little to no instruction past the initial intel to be able to carry out their job quickly, efficiently and, above all, discreetly. Spinelli had no doubt that both DiNozzos would be in his hands within the hour. Smirking to himself he wondered at the pathetic attempts to hide the fact that the younger man had escaped and survived. Did the Feds really think that they would go to such effort in their planning not to keep an eye on the imbeciles recruited for the initial attack on NCIS? They were, after all, expendable and therefore not to be trusted. No matter, let them enjoy their deceit a little while longer, it would be over soon enough. He glanced back at the control tower where he could just make out the form of his boss talking animatedly with someone by the large windows. His look narrowed calculatingly, he had enjoyed working for Franco, it had given him a chance to 'express' himself but he was very much afraid that the time was coming for a pre-emptive strike of his own. This whole business with DiNozzo Senior had pushed the boss over the edge and he was becoming too unstable to be trusted. This, Spinelli reflected, would have to be Vincent Franco's last operation before he tragically succumbed to a heart attack.
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From his seat aboard UA flight 923 Anthony DiNozzo Senior watched as the plane taxied off the runway. He had spent the entire flight with a tight knot of dread in his stomach wondering what would await him on arrival in DC. He knew that he hadn't been much of a father to his son, a fact that had been pointed out in no uncertain terms to him by both Junior and Agent Gibbs the last time he had been in Washington. He wasn't quite egocentric enough to fail to see some truth in their words but couldn't help the resentment that he felt towards Jethro Gibbs. The man clearly had a close relationship with Anthony and Junior obviously thought the world of him.
He felt his breathing hitch again at the thought of his son. Abby had told him that Junior had been taken hostage, indeed he knew as much from the email but he felt that she had been holding something back. He hadn't dared to ask, not wanting to know but he'd spent the last eight hours needing to know what was missing and being unable to ask. He closed his eyes briefly against his rambling thoughts trying, once again, to think who might have been behind the kidnapping and ransom. When he spoke to Abby no-one had had any idea and she had asked him what he knew. He hadn't been able to help. Truthfully he supposed there probably were a few people who didn't think that highly of him, people he'd scammed over the years but, as far as most of them were concerned, he didn't have any heirs, he'd certainly never mentioned a son in any business dealings. It had, therefore, to be someone who'd met Tony, or at least heard of his existence. He tried, once again, to compose a mental list as the plane slowed and came to a halt.
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Ron Sacks took a deep breath as he settled into the driving seat of the airport courtesy coach and headed out towards the stranded Boeing 777. Not that he would admit it out loud but he approved of the plan NCIS had come up with, it enabled them to best protect the innocent civilians and to, hopefully, bring the target in unobserved. The 'target' he shook his head as he recalled his briefing. DiNozzo's father of all things, it almost made him feel sorry for the man, almost, but that would be pushing things a little too far he decided. There was no love lost between the two of them but he could admit to a grudging respect as he came to know more about the agent. He searched the faces of the passengers as they disembarked and was relieved to see DiNozzo Senior, the man looked strained, he wasn't hiding his nerves very well but, despite that, he walked with an air of confidence and his head held high.
Sacks scoured the area looking for any sign of threat. There was no-one within a hundred yards other than the staff manning the mobile staircase and he knew for a fact that they were both fully vetted FBI agents. Relaxing slightly as he closed the doors on the last of the passengers he slowly drove around the aircraft and headed towards International Arrivals in the terminal building.
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McGee caught Ziva's eye as he wandered past Passport control, eyes alert, rifle cradled in his arms. She shook her head slightly, nothing. He nodded fractionally, listening to Sacks reporting the safe arrival of the passengers from UA flight 923 in his earwig. He turned his head a little, not wanting to be in Senior's direct line of sight. The man knew to expect Tony's team but Tim had no idea how good an actor he was and didn't want to take any chances on the operation being blown by a momentary lapse from the older man. Catching a glance as the man passed through the open doorway McGee turned fully away to scan the area. The hairs on the back of his neck were tingling but try as he might he couldn't see anything out of order. Completing his rotation he was in time to see the last of the passengers approaching Passport control. Senior was near the front of the line and would be one of the first to pass through customs. Surreptitiously he lifted his wrist and reported in to Gibbs. Five minutes.
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Gibbs cast a glance over at Tony who was sitting out of immediate sight in the corner of the room. They had decided that it was best if Senior didn't see him immediately, at least not until they were behind closed doors. The younger man was looking nervous, an unaccustomed expression for him but, even as he watched, the mask slipped into place. This one a mask of casual indifference as if he hadn't a care in the world. It was also all but masking the pain he had to still be in Gibbs realised, though it was obvious in his eyes for those that knew him well enough to see it. The senior agent wondered whether or not Senior would notice.
He turned at the sound of slightly raised voices outside the door and was ready when it opened and DiNozzo Senior was escorted into the room. The older man's eyes widened at the sight of Gibbs and he immediately moved closer as if proximity would give him news more quickly.
"Gibbs, he began as soon as the door closed and they were alone.
"Hey Dad," Tony stepped away from his chair, being careful not to stand on his injured leg and call attention to the injury.
"Junior?"
Senior stood stock still, a myriad of emotions playing over his face. Gibbs recognised anger, relief, puzzlement and even, he thought, fear. Wondering at the latter especially he turned his attention to his agent and his father.
"What? How?" the elder DiNozzo struggled to be coherent and for some reason the son was inexplicably quiet, a cautious look on his face.
"He's not sure," Gibbs realised, "He's not sure what to make of his father's reaction." For the umpteenth time since he'd met his friend in Baltimore Gibbs silently cursed DiNozzo Senior, what kind of a father could leave his son unsure of his standing, of his worth? He relaxed slightly as both DiNozzos moved towards each other, Tony with his left hand outstretched in deference to the sling on his right. Senior pulled him into a gentle embrace, having finally decided to act first and think later.
"You're hurt," the old man worried. "Abby didn't say anything about that."
"It's nothing serious Dad," Tony attempted to brush off the concern, seeming uncomfortable at being touched. "We need to talk," he continued, knowing that time was against them. "What do you know about Vincent Franco?"
"Franco?" Senior mused. "He and I did some business a while back but I haven't seen him in years."
"We know all about the business deal Mr DiNozzo," Gibbs interceded. "We think that Franco kidnapped Tony as revenge for what happened."
"Well he obviously didn't do a very good job," Senior crowed. "Tony's here."
"He's here because he managed to escape," Gibbs replied tersely with a proud smile at his SFA. "Not only that but he kept his head and when he heard the kidnappers talking about wanting him dead he hid until we could get him out of there."
"Well obviously," Senior began again.
"It's not that simple Dad," the younger DiNozzo cut in. "Franco has killed everyone involved so far, if we just go on pretending that everything is fine there's nothing to stop him trying again," he paused. "Next time he may go after you."
Senior paled as the implications of his son's words began to sink in. Although he was habitually cautious in his dealings with others he saw no deceit in the eyes of either of the NCIS agents . He had wondered initially on seeing Junior whether it had all been some kind of elaborate ruse to bring him back to DC. But, in his heart of hearts he knew that Tony wouldn't have been involved in such a thing though, he had to admit, if only to himself, that the younger man wouldn't have been sure that his father would come if he'd just asked.
"What should we do? he asked, uncharacteristically compliant.
Gibbs explained briefly. "We think that Franco has people here, at the airport. Chances are that he wants to snatch you and use Tony's 'death' to taunt you." He held up his hand to forestall any protests at his words. "We have people here too Mr DiNozzo," he said firmly. "The only way we're going to put a stop to this is to draw Franco out and arrest him, for that, unfortunately, we need to use you as bait."
DiNozzo stared back at Gibbs and then over at Tony a refusal bubbling on his lips but then he looked closely at his son and saw the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth and thought back to his feelings during the long flight across the Atlantic and, for the first time in a long time, made a decision that wasn't purely self centred.
Tony, watching, saw the moment that his father made his decision and didn't know whether to feel relieved or alarmed. He settled for nodding quietly at the man and listened as Gibbs outlined the plan.
"The FBI has agents throughout the terminal building," the senior agent explained. "You may have already noticed McGee and Ziva on your way in. Tony and I will make our way out front now, you wait a couple of minutes and then a customs official will escort you through customs. We'll be in a car waiting to follow or arrest if Franco shows himself."
Senior nodded, his palms suddenly clammy. He certainly couldn't understand why Tony chose to do this for a living, though it did perhaps rival a good sting for raising the adrenaline levels. He smiled suddenly and reached out to shake Gibbs' hand before patting his son on his good shoulder. "Take care of yourselves," he said, "I expect to see you in one piece next time Anthony"
"You too Dad," Tony smiled in turn before following Gibbs out of a small door to the rear of the room.
Senior watched them go through the staff corridors until the main door opened and he was lead out through arrivals into the terminal building proper.
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Fornell's eyes roamed the security screens, never staying in one place for long. He'd listened carefully to the talk between Gibbs and the two DiNozzos and wondered at the relationship between the three. He sensed an undercurrent and tucked the thought away to deal with later. Sacks had reached the car that he would use to drive Fornell in pursuit if it became necessary and Tobias had his route out of the building clearly mapped in his head. He sat up straighter as DiNozzo Senior appeared on the screen coming through Customs. The man looked wary but any kidnapper would expect that so Fornell wasn't worried. He watched the man switch his cell back on and waited while he checked his mail. Suddenly DiNozzo's head shot up and he looked about him. Seeing nothing he checked his phone again before putting it in his pocket and making his way purposefully to the exit.
"We're on the move," Fornell barked into his mike, scrambling to his feet and leaving the room rapidly. "DiNozzo's gotten some kind of a message and is headed for the main entrance."
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Tony drummed his fingers impatiently on the dash of the car. Gibbs sat silently to his left watching carefully as Senior got into a large black saloon. He ground his teeth as a chauffeur stepped into the driving seat. "They're playing with us again," he growled, cursing himself under his breath for putting Senior in the line of fire, even as he realised that there was nothing else they could have done, not if they wanted to put an end to this.
"Come on Gibbs," DiNozzo pressed beside him. "He's getting away."
"Rule twenty seven Tony," Gibbs reminded him. "Fornell's the obvious tail."
The younger man sighed his frustration, pulling his sling off and checking his weapon. Jethro glanced across at him as he started the engine and pulled out smoothly but kept his peace.
Four cars ahead of them Fornell and Sacks drove an unmarked sedan and matched the saloon's movements turn for turn. Gibbs kept one eye on the traffic and one on the GPS tracker that had been planted on the FBI vehicle. He knew, without checking that the rest of the team would be following the tracker placed in their car from a couple of miles back.
They drove without incident for several miles moving into industrial streets with few houses and several vacant lots on each side of the road. A couple of blocks over the river flowed freely, old wharves home to craft that had seen better days. Gibbs sat up in his seat, his gut churning, things were coming to a head, he could feel it.
Suddenly his radio squawked. "Move up Jethro," Fornell commanded. "They're onto us, road's blocked with a truck at the corner of Forty ninth and V street. Heading west on MacArthur Boulevard.
"Damn it," Tony swore as Gibbs swerved the car into a near impossible left turn. "I knew we should have put a bug on Senior."
Gibbs didn't answer; they'd talked about it and decided that it wasn't worth risking the older man's safety. If a bug had been discovered on him Franco would have known for sure that he'd spoken to the authorities. At this point he still might believe that the authorities were simply following of their own accord. Yeah right, he thought disgusted. We're still three steps behind. He heard his SFA talking briefly with McGee updating him on their course and put his foot down on the gas determined to catch up before they lost sight of the saloon all together.
Two minutes later he eased his foot up slightly as the car came into sight three blocks ahead. The buildings lining the road had given way to open countryside and he needed to hang back to keep a couple of cars between them and the saloon. Glancing in the rear view mirror he spotted a truck coming up rapidly behind them. Clearly DiNozzo was aware as he turned in his seat, sig clasped in both hands, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as it knocked against the seat.
In the time it took to look in the mirror and assess the truck's intentions the car immediately in front of them slammed on its brakes so that when Gibbs looked forward again he had to press his foot to the floor to avoid hitting it. The car slewed from side to side as the ABS cut in before coming back under control only to be battered from the rear as the truck driver rammed the smaller car with his bull bar. Tony yelled and fired out of the shattered rear window but his shots went wide as the car was forced off the road turning on its roof as it jolted down the steep incline, its passengers slammed between their restraints and the windows as the car rocketed out of control before coming to a stop at the bottom of the hill.
By the time McGee and Ziva arrived at the scene five minutes later all that could be seen of the incident was an abandoned car. The truck and the car's occupants had disappeared.
TBC
AN: Apologies if I've confused the DC geography.