Gibbs had Nelson and Johnson moved to the holding cells and locked up. Now he, Ziva and McGee were sitting in Nelson's office, exhausted and frustrated. They had spent the last six hours grilling Nelson, Johnson and Sally Johnson, but were unable to get an admission of anything out of the two men. Time was slipping by and they had no idea if Tony was alive or not.
A search of the local gas station had uncovered pieces of the government sedan; the vehicle had been stripped of all identifying tags and the GPS locator had been destroyed. The townspeople were still wary of the government agents, even with their sheriff and his deputy behind bars. There was still a chance, in their minds, that they would be released, and anyone who had cooperated with the Federal agents would be dealt with.
"Maybe I should try the waitress again," Ziva said. "She watched them torture Tony." It hadn't taken much to get the waitress to talk. Sally had described the beatings and torture in great detail, her eyes bright with excitement. Ziva could barely keep herself from strangling the woman when she heard what her boyfriend and brother had done to Tony. In the months she had been at NCIS, Ziva had developed a fondness for her partner. She respected and admired his abilities, though she'd never tell him that to his face. She was used to working alone, but with Tony, she knew she was covered. And he made her laugh. He was a major reason why she felt so at home at NCIS. She silently berated herself for not being with him on this trip.
"I don't think she knows where he is," Gibbs disagreed. "She may have been there when they tortured him, but I don't think they would let her know where they were dumping him."
"We're never going to break the sheriff," McGee said dismally. "And from what Sally described, it sounds like Tony's in pretty bad shape. He might already be…"
"He's not dead," Gibbs said firmly, glaring at the younger agent, storming out of the room angrily.
"I should have come with him," McGee said softly, his eyes moist.
"We'll find him, Tim," Ziva hugged him. "We'll find him alive and take him home."
Gibbs stood on the porch, staring off into the distance. He had no idea where Tony could be. Deep down he knew that the younger agent could already be dead, or close to it. Time was slipping away and he was no closer to finding him than he was five hours ago. He felt guilty; he shouldn't have sent him out alone. There was no way to foresee this happening, logically he knew that, but the guilt was there just the same. The guilt that would haunt McGee for getting food poisoning and Ziva for having to deal with the State Department. Guilt that none of them earned or deserved, but guilt that they would shoulder for the rest of their lives if Tony didn't come through this alive.
Gibbs spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw the old man wandering down the street. Gibbs stepped off the porch and ran to catch up to him.
"Jimmy left the tack out in the rain. Papa got so mad at him, whupped his hide with his belt. Jimmy never did that again." The old man chuckled to himself.
"I need your help," Gibbs said softly, standing in front of the man and looking him straight in the eyes. "I need your help finding my agent."
"You lost your boy too?"
"Yes," Gibbs replied, "I've lost my boy. Do you know where he is?"
"My boy got killed in the war," the man said sadly, "my only child. He was a good boy, a good son. Not right for a father to outlive his son." He shook his head sadly.
"No, it's not," agreed Gibbs.
"Your boy wasn't in the war, was he?"
"No, he wasn't."
"Papa died of the black lung. Spent most of his life digging up coal. Died young. My boy died young. Why didn't I die young?"
"Please, can you help me find my boy?" Gibbs asked, his tone pleading.
"Lots of men died of the black lung. Awful way to go, cough your life away. Awful way," his voice trailed away as he sank deep into his memories.
Gibbs sighed and dropped his head. Suddenly, a thought came to him. He hugged the man and ran back into the office.
"McGee, get Abby on the phone," he yelled. McGee quickly complied.
"Did you find him?" Abby's anxious voice filled the room.
"Abs, I need you to look up any abandoned mines in the area, anything within a twenty square mile radius," Gibbs said.
"Mines? As in gold mines?" They could hear the keys to Abby's keyboard clicking in the background.
"As in coal mine, this is West Virginia, Abby, not California."
"I found one, Gibbs," Abby said. "There's an abandoned coal mine about ten miles east of you. It's about two miles off highway marker 24."
"Let's go." Grabbing his gear, Gibbs raced out of the room, followed closely by Ziva and McGee.
"Gibbs?" Abby's voice echoed in the empty room. "McGee? Ziva?"
It was already dark by the time they reached the site of the abandoned mine. They could barely make out the opening; Nelson and Johnson had covered it up carefully with brush. Once inside they followed the shaft, their flashlights lighting the way.
"There's a cave of some sort up ahead," Gibbs observed, quickening his pace. The three entered the opening and shone their lights around.
"There he is." Ziva rushed over to where Tony lay. He was very still, his skin cool to the touch. "I don't think he's breathing," she said.
Gibbs pushed past her, setting his flashlight down. He put his head down on Tony's chest. "He's alive," he said. Carefully, he examined the injured man. Tony's face had a few bruises, but didn't appear to be damaged too seriously. His wrists were cut from the handcuffs, his hands swollen. The abuse described by Sally Johnson was evident, Gibbs wanted to get him out into the open where he could be examined closely. What worried him the most was the harsh sounds of Tony's breathing. The younger man was having difficulty drawing in air. Gibbs knew that he was more susceptible to lung problems since his bout with Y-pestis, and he feared Tony would develop pneumonia.
"We need to get him out of here," Patting Tony's face gently, Gibbs called to his agent, "Tony, wake up."
"DiNOZZO!" he yelled.
Tony stirred and started mumbling.
"What did he say?" asked McGee.
"He said he doesn't want any apples," Gibbs said.
Two days later, Gibbs, Abby, McGee and Ziva were in Tony's hospital room. They had managed to get Tony out of the mine without aggravating his injuries any further. Tony's right shoulder had been dislocated and had been put back in place, his arm bandaged to his side to keep him from moving it. The injuries he had suffered had been serious, but not life-threatening and he was expected to make a full recovery. The two areas of most concern were his lungs and his hands. Tony had developed a mild case of bronchitis, now being controlled by antibiotics. The swelling in his hands had gone down and the nerves, tendons and ligaments hadn't been permanently damaged. The doctors had surmised that the young agent was born under a lucky star, though the fact that he kept finding himself in precarious situations contradicted that belief.
"Here you go," Ziva said proudly, handing him a sling-like device.
"What's this?" he asked, holding it up with his free arm.
"It's for your arm," she said. "I crocheted it. You're really supposed to use it to hang potted plants from the ceiling, but I think it will make a good sling."
"You crocheted this?" Everyone stared at Ziva, not quite believing what they had heard.
"Yes," she said defensively, "I crocheted it. Is there something wrong with that?"
"Oh, no." "Of course not." "It's beautiful." The others protested.
"So, Tony," McGee said, "I guess you'll be more careful about who you flirt with now."
"Sure, Probie," said Tony, "and you'll be careful eating raw fish, right?" He laughed when McGee turned pale and swallowed convulsively.
"What's going to happen to the crooked sheriff and his deputy?" asked Abby.
"They'll go on trial for attempted murder," Gibbs said. "It turns out they've killed before, so they'll go down for murder as well. They won't be seeing the outside of a jail cell for a long time, if ever."
"Thanks for finding me, Boss," Tony said. "I'm sorry I caused so much trouble, but I swear, I didn't do anything."
"I know, Tony," Gibbs said. "You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and talked to the wrong woman. You've just got lousy timing."
"Yeah," agreed Tony, "Maybe I need to settle down, stop flirting with all the beautiful women."
"Oh my god," exclaimed Abby, "is he feverish?" She reached up and felt Tony's forehead.
Gibbs shook his head and watched fondly as the rest of the team teased their injured teammate.