DISCLAIMER: This is just fic, for fun; no money made on this deal. Dark Angel and NCIS merely borrowed for a while.

BROKEN RECORD: To those of you who have hung in thus far, thank you for reading; for those of you who have been good enough to review here and elsewhere, thanks for your comments. Reviews are the only way we scribblers can know if we're making any sense, so they are craved and valued!

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 9:43 A.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse

From the living room, where he sat with his laptop, Tony heard Logan the first time, barely crossing his awareness as he reread the reports he'd received the previous night. The tone was comfortable enough that the thought was slow in dawning. But before he heard Logan call Bling's name that second time, he felt a sudden cold dread that he'd been outwitted–and when he heard his cousin call out again, he knew they'd both been had.

He was on his feet and in the workout room before Logan's second syllable was uttered, jigging only slightly to avoid the water bottle-cum-missile bouncing back at him from where it struck the door frame.

"Damn it!"

"He's gone?" Tony asked, knowing the answer, looking back down the hall to see empty rooms, as if there would be some sign. "What did he tell you, last night?"

"Nothing! Not a damn thing!" Logan grimaced, angry at Bling...angrier at himself. "There's more, and he didn't deny it–but he didn't give up a thing." Tony saw that his cousin was chewing himself up over this, and knew immediately that Logan was telling the truth–he had learned nothing more the previous night than Tony himself had.

"Who's he protecting?" Tony demanded. He felt his own irritation at the man's decision to bolt.

The single syllable carried all of the anger Logan felt at their powerlessness, glaring up to the agent. "Us." At the silent question he saw in response, Logan snorted, "he left, so we won't be in the line of fire." As his anger flared, a more pressing thought took over, and Logan knew that time was of the essence. "We've got to find him– to stop whatever this is. There isn't much time..."

"Why?" Tony shot back immediately. "How do you know?" For someone who claimed to know nothing, Logan seemed so certain...

"He would have waited til the last minute, if he was trying to avoid our involvement..." Logan glanced over at his chair, the ten foot distance as effective as a football field away, and he hated that he was going to have to ask Tony to bring it close–he'd gotten too used to those around him anticipating his needs... and taking it for granted. "I need to make some calls; maybe we can..."

"What's going on?" Max appeared in the doorway, barely dried before dressing, the sounds of Logan's anger and thrown bottle audible to her even in the shower. With a quick glance to them both–and seeing Logan's chair out of reach–she moved immediately to unlock the brakes Bling had set and pulled the chair up close to its usual position for Logan's transfer.

Relief smoothed his face, momentarily. "Thanks, Max," he murmured, the gratitude in his voice making him sound, to his own ears, weak and dependent–and he was hard pressed to know whether it was the chair or Bling's disappearance that made it so.

Max had heard the men's exchange and knew Bling was gone. She also heard in Logan's tone that he felt as guilty as if he'd shoved Bling out the door himself. Busy with his transfer and with blaming himself, Logan didn't see the expression Max did, on Tony's face–the self-conscious guilt, for having missed the obvious with Logan's chair. Max offered him a sympathetic look. Tony had found it hard enough last night, facing the new realities of Logan's life, and today wasn't going any better. With Bling gone, Logan would be driven until Bling was back, safe and properly chastised. But Tony would have to deal. For that matter, so would Logan. It had to be about Bling, for now...she looked back to Logan. Certainly he'd have a plan...

Logan was clearly wound up with the new surge of anger he felt at the killer, at Bling for shutting him out...for his own inability to know more. Pulling himself roughly into his chair, he slammed down the hall to start working at his computer, Max and Tony following silently behind. From over Logan's shoulder, Tony watched Logan's long fingers fly over the keyboard, opening and closing displays too fast for him to catch the content of several, adding lines here and there–or maybe only calling up other windows; Tony couldn't catch them all. His cousin was in a hurry and clearly on a mission...

"Max..." Logan asked, his voice intense but controlled, low. He never broke stride in his work. "Would you go downstairs and check to see if Bling's car is gone, please?" She nodded, not speaking, and moved quickly to the door and out.

Tony licked his lips, still uncomfortable. "Look, I got a report last night I hadn't been able to tell you about, yet– they finally completed ballistics in Houston, and sent them on to the FBI SAC in Chicago– McGee said there's a match. Same gun, Indianapolis and Houston..."

"Damn..." Logan breathed, still not breaking his concentration on his work before him. "Well..." he managed after a moment, "it's not as if we expected anything different..."

Tony shifted from one foot to another, fidgeting with his inability to offer anything of assistance. That's not my job, anyway, he corrected himself, I'm not the assistant here–am I? I'm here to get this case solved–not watch Logan play James Bond. It had been years since he was in the back seat on a case and it made him feel uncomfortable; that it was his writer-cousin running the show left him decidedly off balance. More than once, he opened his mouth to speak, or take charge, but he found he could not: he had nothing to go on, no real leads...and Logan seemed electric with purpose. So Tony tried to wait... but didn't like doing so when someone on the team had answers he didn't...

"How last minute?" Tony asked, over Logan's shoulder, watching the shifting displays, raising his point from several minutes before. "What did he think you would do?"

The brief glance his way in return was guarded, Tony saw, even if only for a moment; the man was thinking... editing... "Stop him." Logan said tersely, looking back toward the computer. "Because Bling knows that in a very short time we can get some help out there, to find him and keep him from doing something stupid. The longer he allows us to find him..."

"Where will you start? Seattle's a big place..."

"Yeah? Well, we can get out the word...make it a little smaller..." When he saw Tony look at him, in waiting question, he added, "I have some contacts..."

The men heard the door and both looked up to see Max return, shaking her head. "His car's gone" she confirmed. "I saw where he had it last night; the space is empty."

More expected news, to both...but nonetheless, not what they wanted to hear. In silence, Logan spent another few moments on the computer, before grabbing the phone and punching two buttons of a speed dial entry. His call was answered quickly. "Matt, it's Logan. Look...I need a favor, a big one..." His pause was brief. "I need you to put out a detention order on Bling...yeah, you heard me right. Bling..." His eyes looked up to first Tony, then Max, in guilty recognition of what he was doing–but he saw no accusation from either–only some surprise, from Tony...and even approval from Max. He went on, "There's a serial killer out there, killing members of Bling's SEAL unit, from when he was in the Navy...he's already killed two–and he's contacted Bling now..."

Logan's hands had not stopped moving over the keyboard as he'd spoken. Tony watched as, with another few keystrokes, Logan downloaded a photo of Bling from the Navy department, performing some quick feat of digitizing the image and producing as a result a very convincing mock-up of a sector police wanted poster with Bling's name, information, and computer generated image. He then attached the package to an e-mail directed to "Matt," presumably the one on the other end of the line, and hit the key to send...

"Bling won't let us in on it; he's gone off to meet the guy somewhere and it's going to be soon, I'm certain...if your guys can get him off the streets, we can fix it later..." Logan paused, listening, then said, "I've got a poster to you, on its way, with his photo and other information." Logan paused for the first time since he'd left the therapy room, his gratitude apparent in his voice. "Matt, this is asking a lot, I know...I wouldn't ask if I wasn't so sure it was necessary..." He listened a moment, murmured a good bye, and hung up, pivoting catch Max's eye and toss her a cell phone. "Max– can you get the word to everyone at Jam Pony, to watch for Bling's car? Let them know the police will have their usual turf covered." Logan watched Max nod and turn to the phone, dialing quickly, and finally looked back up to his cousin.

Logan's frustration reminded Tony of his own uselessness so far, and he felt as if he needed to offer something..."I can check at the hospital; if this guy called Bling out to a meet, he may have chosen somewhere he knew Bling wouldn't be out of place...or maybe someone there saw somebody hanging around, the past few days..." Tony knew it was weak, and sounded worse...

"We can do that by phone. I know a couple people we can call there, too." Looking away again, eyes veiled, Logan pushed off toward his bedroom, calling over his shoulder. "Give me ten minutes and we can go...there are some other places we can watch..." He barely paused. "Max–get going, whenever you're ready–take the phone; the speed dial to my cell is star one."

As Max nodded without speaking, waiting for her call to Jam Pony to go through, Logan turned back toward the hall, moving quickly. "What places?" Tony frowned, calling to his cousin, back to his earlier line. "Without some idea where he might be..."

"If we get a report on where his car is, we'll be able to move..." Logan's voice came back to him as he disappeared into his bedroom.

"Logan..." Tony balked, not wanting to say it, knowing he was out of earshot anyway. He was not at all comfortable with a civilian–two–in the mix... especially not a civilian who was family... especially not a civilian who was immobile without his wheelchair...

"Cindy–it's me." Tony turned as he heard Max speaking into the cell phone tossed to her by Logan, asking tersely for 'Original Cindy' and speaking rapidly and low when she heard a response. "Look–I need you to get everyone you can out and looking for Bling's car." She barely paused in her rapid-fire instructions; clearly the person on the other end didn't question a word of what she was hearing. "We need to find him. The best bet is if you can get Logan or me his location–ready for the numbers?" She recited both cell phone numbers, and at Tony's nudge, looked up to see he had his out as well, number displayed. "Oh–one more, if you can't get us. Logan's cousin, Tony, is here too..." She read off the number, and after a pause, offered a grim smile. "Yes. Absolutely. We get Bling back, you and Tony get a formal introduction." She glanced up at DiNozzo with a wan smile, circumstances wearing on her as well. "And Cindy, listen–Logan called Matt, and his guys and the sector cops will be looking, too–so you need to cover the alternatives." She took a breath and went on, "He's got a dark blue make-over, you've seen it–probably Lexis or Nissan, originally, a cut-back repaint, soft top. Pretty good condition, cleaner than Logan's, thin silver accent lines along the chassis." For the first time she paused as if she was being asked a question, and her answer was unflinching. "Someone wants to kill him–and he's avoiding us cos he thinks he's protecting us from being taken out with him." She hesitated only this once. "It's bad, Cindy–so bad Logan had Matt feed an APB to the sector cops too. All of them have orders to take him into custody if they see him. Matt and Logan will sort out the details later."

Max snapped the phone closed and crossed to the dining room, retrieving her jacket and pulling it on. "Tell Logan I'll call in if I find anything–I'll head down to the docks first, then up around the hospital. If I don't hear from you in thirty minutes I'll check in, and see what you've covered." She wavered only a moment. "Bling's worth all this, Tony..."

He nodded. "I can see that."

She looked to the special agent but said nothing more before turning on her heel and slipping out the door. Tony sighed, at a loss. This was not his team, not his city–but he did know he didn't like the idea of Logan out there, hunting down a serial killer. With at least two murders under his belt, the guy was unlikely to care how many he took out...and no matter his pride, Logan just wasn't in a position to dodge bullets too readily...

Logan came out of the bedroom quickly, still dressed in the sweats and t-shirt he'd worn earlier, and went back to the computer room, where he grabbed his laptop and closed it, jamming it into a nylon backpack lying amid the equipment. He barely slowed as he slung the bag on the back of his chair, and reached in his drawer to pull out what was a serious looking pistol. As he lifted a box of cartridges to load two clips, quickly and efficiently, Tony grimaced and himself moved, finally, retreating to the guest room and his own bag, to pull out his shoulder belt, his gun and what he hoped was way too much ammunition for his own firearm. After double checking the safety, he came back out to the computer room as he pulled on the shoulder holster. Snugging the harness across his chest, he slipped the gun in along his ribs, he came behind his cousin to gather his thoughts, watching as Logan checked his own safety, and spoke.

"Logan–stay here. You can be more help here with all your equipment and the phones..."

"Got 'em with me." Logan didn't look up, his words clipped and terse. He knew where this was headed.

"Look, cuz, this guy won't ask questions, and he won't care where he's shooting. I do this for a living..." Tony watched and saw that the stubborn streak in Logan was still strong ...and was not listening to reason. "Logan, will you stop–" the guilt wasn't quite as strong as Tony's concern for the younger cousin he'd always protected. "I can get to Bling faster, if it's just me..."

Green eyes met green and, although it took a moment, Logan's voice was strong, sure–and did not entertain objection. "Forget it. It may take me a couple more minutes to get into the damn car than you–but once I'm in you'll save far more time than you lose, with my knowledge of the city and the people out there." He turned without further delay and gave his wheels a strong push, starting toward the door. "C'mon–" he demanded. "We can argue about it in the elevator–this is just wasting time."

And yet again, as he'd found over the last twelve hours, Tony found himself silently following the lead of his bespectacled, "dilettante" cousin, wondering at the sense that he had not been commanded like this, nor had fallen into step so readily, since he did so with Gibbs...whatever he was, his baby cousin was not just a journalist. Tony wondered if by the end of this day he'd know who Logan Cale really was...

As the door shut behind them and the elevator took Tony and Logan downstairs toward the Aztek, a quiet finally settled over the penthouse...at least for the next ten minutes or so. But after ten, when it was apparent the cousins weren't going to burst back in for some forgotten matter, and Max was not going to appear back inside, the door to the front storage closet opened softly, slowly...and a tall form slipped silently into the front hall and out the front door. Flipping open his cell phone to key in a number on the speed dial, Bling palmed the elevator call button and stepped into the opening doors as his call was answered.

"...hi, Sandra it's me...yeah, I'm all set...can you swing by and bring the car back, now?" He shifted his own weapon in its holster, forcing himself to breathe evenly and stay calm. "And you can go on back to work; there's really no need for you to wait for me or to leave your car here any longer." The elevator doors opened and his eyes scanned the garage, looking for anyone there–the one out to kill him... the three out to save him...police of any sort...even random passers-by. As he remained watchful, he also listened to the woman on the other end of the phone. "Yes, I know..." Seeing no one close by, he slipped into the shadows to wait. "You know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important...and I can explain soon, I promise..." His voice had fallen to a soft murmur. "...thanks...I'll be waiting..."

...TBC...