"It was my last case in Baltimore," Tony began. "There was a serial killer on the loose. He tortured and killed seven people before we figured out who he was and two more before we could catch him. He got the chair. These," Tony indicated the general area. "Are really close."
"Copycat?"
"I don't know. I mean, they seem too much like him to be a copycat, but obviously it can't actually be him." Tony seemed to be talking more to himself than to Gibbs.
"What does your gut say?"
"It's him."
Gibbs nodded. "I'm putting a watch on you. You don't leave your house until we catch him."
"No!" Tony burst out vehemently. "I want him, Gibbs."
"I understand that, DiNozzo, but - "
"Gibbs, if Morrow had told you to sit on your hands after Ari got away, what would you have done?" Tony's point hit home like a flaming arrow. Gibbs wondered briefly if Tony had any idea how much he'd just revealed about his relationship to the killer.
"Fine. But I'm still having someone keep an eye on you." Gibbs' tone left no room for argument and Tony nodded reluctantly. Gibbs lowered his voice another notch. "DiNozzo, do you have any idea who he might be going after next?"
Tony considered the question for a moment. "It looks like he's working backwards, going after the people closest to me during each time period. Before Peoria was college. College roommate, maybe?"
"Okay. Call him up. Warn him. He live in the area?"
"I think he's in Boston."
"Good. I'll have McGee stake out his house. You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah. Soon as we catch this bastard."
"Talk to me, Duck."
"Yes, well," Ducky began. "They were almost certainly all killed by the same person. All of their hands and feet were bound and most are fairly bruised, indicating a good struggle."
"Well, yeah, Duck. Someone was cutting me up, I think I'd be struggling, too."
"Indeed. The killer is probably a male, and a large one at that, because he was able to subdue three military and three law-enforcement personnel. That's not easy. They're all trained and most carry weapons. Our boy is extremely professional. He knows when and where to strike, obviously, and we've already discussed the incredible precision he uses to maximize their suffering. You know, the Chinese were some of the first to develop torture methods. Their capacity for both grace and brutality is fascinating - "
"Thanks, Ducky," Gibbs threw over his shoulder as he left. Ducky seemed almost surprised to hear him, as if he had forgotten he was there.
"Hey, McGee, this was a good idea," Abby grinned. Her date smiled back nervously, unsure of just how much trouble he would get in if anyone found out.
"Well," he cautioned. "We have to be careful. I'm supposed to be watching this guy's house, so if anything happens it's my fault."
"Of course," Abby replied cheerfully. The truth was, she just wanted to come on a stakeout. She rarely got to do anything in the field.
They settled in for a long, dull night. It was a quiet street with few passing cars, making even a kid on a bike fascinating for the few seconds he was in view. They passed a bag of chips and some jumbo CatPows back and forth, trying to stay alert.
McGee, despite his best efforts, dozed off just after two. Abby's eyelids were starting to feel heavy when something caught her attention. A car pulled into the driveway they were watching. A black-clad figure exited the car silently, cleverly not closing the car door. Abby's analytical brain figured he must have disabled the lights somehow, because neither his brake lights nor the inside lights were lit. This guy was a pro.
Excited now, and not wanting to wake McGee, Abby crept out of the car as quietly as possible. Slinking along the side of the house after the suspect, she was glad she favored black. She watched as he examined a window at the back of the house. It was catching up to her that she couldn't just stand there and watch; she had to do something. Realizing that her exuberance might have overridden her common sense for a while, she started backing away. She would go get McGee and move in with preparation. And a weapon.
Focussed intently on the perp, she didn't see where she was walking. A twig snapped and the sound exploded in the silent night. The black figure swung around, looking for the offendor. Spotting Abby fairly quickly, he set upon her before she could react. A hand found her mouth and she gagged as his arm circled her neck.
Oh, no you don't, she thought, suddenly angry at the man. Calling on self-defense lessons (and impromptu lessons from her brother), she bit the man's hand. He jerked it away, though without loosening his hold on her neck. Grabbing the arm that held her, Abby threw her weight into it in an attempt to dislodge him from her back. It would have worked, but he was much heavier than she expected. Finally going for the old self-defense standby, she set up her aim and...kicked. Hard.
He crumpled, pulling her down as he sagged to the ground. She wriggled out of his grip easily now that he was - preoccupied - and stood over him threateningly. She didn't see any tell-tale bulges in his skintight jumpsuit, indicating that he wasn't packing. That was good, she supposed, but it left her with fewer options. How could she hold him? She decided that a well-aimed foot, poised just above him, might help him think twice about trying to run.
"What do you want?" she demanded, not caring that it sounded cliche. He was stubbornly silent. Abby raised her foot threateningly and, to her satisfaction, saw his eyes widen slightly in fear. He still wouldn't talk, though. So Abby brought her foot down.
"Freeze!" yelled a familiar voice. Her balance thrown off, Abby staggered slightly as her foot fell a foot from her target. Taking advantage of the momentary lapse, the suspect struggled to his feet and ran to his car. A confused McGee, unsure in the dark of which black-clad figure was his charge, stood pointing his weapon at Abby.
"McGee, put it down!" she yelped. "He's getting away!" McGee obediently holstered his pistol and ran after the car but it was far too late. The car rounded a corner at the end of the street and was gone.
"Gibbs is going to kill me."