Chapter 3

Tony sat silently at the work desk in the corner of Autopsy as Ducky studied the x-rays he'd taken. His hand and wrist lay propped across the desktop swaddled in bags of ice, the discomfort a distant annoyance as his mind whirled. After the ride back, he'd taken advantage of the privacy of Ducky's office to verify some facts with the security detail that accompanied them at the scene. Now there were things that needed to be done, and said, starting with Gibbs.

He wasn't sure how and when he was going to do it, because this was a conversation that was not going to happen up in the bullpen. He also wasn't sure how Gibbs would react, or if he'd be willing to listen at all. The care and consideration Gibbs had shown Tony at the scene probably had its limits. This was Gibbs, after all. The doors slid open with a whoosh, pulling him from his thoughts.

Speak of the devil.

Gibbs entered, gave Tony a once-over scan, and then joined Ducky.

"What's the verdict, Duck? He break anything with that move?"

Tony rolled his eyes at Gibbs' back.

Gibbs looked back over his shoulder and gave him the raised eyebrow and half smirk, the one that told him he knew exactly what Tony had just done. Tony shrugged unrepentantly, and Gibbs gave a little snort as he turned back to Ducky.

"No, Jethro," Ducky began, snapping off the light illuminating the films of Tony's lower arm and hand. "As I suspected, just soft tissue damage and a mild sprain. I'd like Anthony to keep it wrapped at least until the swelling resolves, and I'll check it again in a couple days.

The token protest bubbled out before Tony could stop it. "Aw, come on Ducky, it's not that bad."

"Do what Ducky says, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered as he followed Ducky to the desk.

"Fine," Tony huffed. Ducky began carefully removing the small bags of half-melted ice, and set about re-wrapping Tony's wrist.

Task complete, Ducky straightened and stretched his stiff back. "And now I'll bid you both good evening." The ME paused and his eyes flicked toward the drawers along one wall. "Mr. Palmer and I are scheduled for an early start tomorrow morning."

Tony pressed his lips together grimly as he followed Ducky's eyes to the drawer where he'd helped place Paula's body earlier.

Ducky made his way out and Tony watched through until the doors closed behind him; he and Gibbs were completely alone now. Right here, a few feet from that drawer, was as good a place as any for the conversation to come. Tony looked down and considered where to start.

Gibbs waited but Tony made no move to get up.

"Come on DiNozzo," Gibbs said, tilting his head toward the doors. "You can start typing up your report while waiting for your turn to give a statement."

"No."

Gibbs frowned down at his SFA, noting the stubborn, determined set to his face. Not only that, once again, that undercurrent of volatility and anger he'd seen earlier was back. A sense of tightly controlled fury that Tony didn't care to hide behind his many masks, at least not with him. Tony was pissed and wanted him to know it.

"No to what exactly?" Gibbs challenged.

"No, I'm not going upstairs. Not now, and not anytime soon," Tony answered in clipped tones, knowing he was now treading into insubordination territory, and not giving a damn. "We need to talk, Gibbs."

Finally, Gibbs thought. Maybe he'd get an explanation for that lurking anger that was about something more than Cassidy's death. Whatever its' cause, it had Tony prepared to defy Gibbs, first at the scene and now back here at headquarters.

"You still mad at me, Tony? Gibbs asked. "Or is it something or someone else you're angry at?"

"Who am I angry at?" Tony asked. "Not you." The words were at odds with the seething look that suddenly appeared on Tony's face.

What the hell? Gibbs then realized Tony's attention was focused on something behind him. He turned to see Ziva standing just outside the autopsy doors, covertly peering through one side of the glass at them. She'd used the stairs instead of the elevator to conceal her approach.

Gibbs jabbed a finger at Tony, who was glaring daggers at the door. "Don't. Move." The he crossed the room with quick strides and stopped in front of the Israeli liaison.

"Get your ass back upstairs and stay there," he ordered, knowing she heard him just fine through the glass.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at Tony, before wordlessly turning away. She smacked the elevator button harder than necessary as Gibbs stood there, making sure she knew he was watching her leave. Once she was gone he went back to Tony. The hostile look was gone, replaced by one of mild amusement at Ziva's display of pique. Time to get to the bottom of this.

"Is she stalking me or you?"

Tony gave a sarcastic little laugh. "A little of both, I'd imagine."

Gibbs pulled over a spare chair and sat down opposite his senior agent. "You going to clue me in now, Tony?" Gibbs asked. "You may not be pissed at me, but you obviously are at Ziva. Why?"

Tony took a calming breath and shoved the fury back in its box. Gibbs wasn't going to take him seriously if he wasn't composed.

"I'm sure she's a little uncomfortable about the context of our little private chat," Tony opened vaguely. He glanced toward the bank of drawers again, then back to Gibbs. "You were right when you told me I couldn't have changed what happened today. But there's someone who could have. Someone screwed up today, and it needs to be addressed."

At Gibbs' perplexed look, Tony breathed out an exasperated breath.

"I find it hard to believe it hasn't occurred to you yet that someone had to have missed something at the scene." Tony leaned across the desk to look Gibbs directly in the eyes, his voice low and furious. "Who cleared the fucking shop next door, Gibbs?"

It had occurred to him, but with all the other distractions, he hadn't delved too deeply into it himself yet. Apparently Tony had, and wasn't happy about what he found.

"What are you saying, Tony?"

"I'm saying that suicide bomber had already concealed himself in the shop when Ziva cleared it, and she missed him," Tony accused. "Ziva knows damn good and well she screwed up. That's why she tried to make nice with me at the scene, and why she followed you down here."

"How can you be sure of that? The bomber could have gotten in after the search."

"He didn't," Tony disputed. "Do you think I wouldn't have checked before bringing this to you? The security detail had the perimeter cleared and cordoned before we even arrived, and they had the front and back entrances, as well as the roof covered the entire time. No one could have gotten in between the time Ziva rejoined us, and the bomber triggering that door open. You know only a few minutes passed. He was already in there Gibbs," Tony insisted.

"The detail missed him too, then. Ziva wasn't working alone."

Gibbs' Ziva-shaped blind spot was on clear display. That's what you think.

"She sent them back outside to cover the entrance and exit, and then finished the search herself."

"What?"

"Miss Mossad thought her skills were so superior, that she didn't need anyone looking over her shoulder as she worked. She finished the search, and reported to us that side was clear," Tony recalled Ziva's report as she'd joined them, amusing herself by using the trick door to try and catch them off guard.

"Hah! Very clever. This side is clear."

Then Ziva had nearly jumped out of her skin and pulled her weapon when the door suddenly banged closed behind her. Tony remembered Ziva's haughty response when they'd teased her for the overreaction.

"I didn't think anything could make you jump."

"That was merely a reflex."

"In America, we call that jumping."

"In Mossad, we call it the difference between life and death."

Ziva had been looking right at Paula when she'd said that. Another heartless jab, and Paula had visibly crumpled. She muttered about passing the report to Gibbs and walked away. Tony wondered what Mossad called arrogance and overconfidence preventing one from thoroughly searching a room to ensure it was free of potential threats.

"Ziva amused herself by using the trick door herself to come back over, Gibbs. She knew it was there, how it worked, and already knew it was an access point that could be exploited to attack us. She sent away all the extra sets of eyes and ears, then wasn't thorough enough in her own search."

Gibbs let his head fall back against the wall, understanding the problem, and the reason for Tony's deep-seated anger. This situation had just became an even more complicated mess than it already was.

"Whatever skills she learned in Mossad," Tony began derisively, "they obviously don't include how to properly clear a building, or a single room in one for that matter."

Gibbs sighed. "Do you think she was intentionally negligent?"

"I'm not prepared to go that far, Gibbs," Tony allowed. "But the fact remains, she dismissed the detail ordered to help search the shop and took it upon herself to do it alone. You know damn well that's not procedure. She had no business taking over for the detail or giving them orders. Not only was she not in charge of the scene, she's not even an agent, and even after over 18 months working with us, has never been formally trained or indoctrinated in NCIS procedure."

"And you know for a fact there's no other possible explanation?"

Tony sighed in frustration. He was poking Gibbs right in his long-held soft spot for Ziva, and getting a predictable response.

"Gibbs, like I said, I checked. If you want to be hard-headed about this because it's Ziva, you go right ahead," Tony shot back. "You can give her the benefit of the doubt or even let her slide entirely, it's up to you. I happen to think Ziva should be held accountable for her part in what happened today. She dropped the ball. As things stand, I don't trust her to cover our backs or secure a scene, and that's kind of an important part of our jobs."

Gibbs' face hardened at the implication. "You suggesting she should be off the team, Tony?"

"Not my call," Tony denied emphatically. "What I'm trying to get you to see is next time, the casualty might be someone on our team. It nearly was today, and there will be a next time, if she doesn't get a reality check." Tony tried to drive his point home. "If you expect me to continue working with her, and that part is my call, steps need to be taken to prevent what happened today from happening again."

"You telling me how to manage my team?" Gibbs challenged with a pointed look.

"Don't get your feathers ruffled, and don't ignore the point, Gibbs," Tony answered icily. "This isn't about me. I'm not the one bucking authority at every turn, and dismissing orders I don't agree with because I think the Mossad way is better. I'm doing my job as your SFA right now, hashing out an issue on our team with you. Missteps get people killed, that's what you said to me earlier, Gibbs," Tony reminded. "Do you really believe that, or don't you? I believe that's what happened today whether or not you want to think so, and I am not the one whose abilities and behavior you should be questioning right now."

"Okay…you've made your point, Tony," Gibbs conceded, knowing the younger man was right in calling him on the double standard. "What exactly are you expecting me to do about this?"

"I'm thinking you'll investigate and verify what I've told you…I'd expect no less. Then I expect that appropriate actions will be taken. The more imaginative, the better," Tony grinned briefly then went somber again. "Hopefully, all that happens by the time I come back."

Gibbs gave Tony a sharp look. "What do you mean, by the time you come back?"

"I have no intention of being in the same building with Ziva right now, much less in the bullpen. So here's what's going to happen next. I'm going home now, and taking a sick day tomorrow while you figure out how to fix this."

"You have a report to write, and a statement to give," Gibbs replied pointedly.

"I can do that from home. You'll have my report in your inbox shortly," Tony countered. "And I've already arranged to give my statement remotely. I'll review and sign the transcript when I come back."

Gibbs could tell Tony wouldn't be swayed from his decision, but there was still the elephant in the room. "And Ziva? As my SFA, you don't think you need to be part of that?"

"No." Tony shook his head. "If it were anyone else, I'd agree with you. In this case, any action or recommendation coming from me is going to fall on deaf ears with Ziva. And Madam Director, for that matter."

Not because of this particular case though, Tony thought with pang in his chest. He hadn't had time to inform Jenny yet that Jeanne had broken things off with him, and she was already on a tear about his lack of progress on her Frog hunt. He was still trying to sort out his feelings on the matter, and what to do about the undercover assignment in general. He didn't want any of that clouding the issue with Ziva.

"It needs to come from you, Gibbs, only you. And frankly, the authority problem on your team is your job to correct, not mine."

Gibbs didn't reply, but seemed to be mulling it over. Tony stood, annoyed at the lack of response and fired his parting shot.

"Ziva needs to learn, Gibbs. Go open that drawer and take a look at what's left of Paula, if you need any more proof," Tony added caustically. "Just remember this. I'm not going to stay and watch anyone else die as a result of her Mossad-ingrained arrogance, and willful ignorance of NCIS procedure. I'm well aware that strong-arm tactics rub you the wrong way, but I'm beyond giving a shit right now. I'll see you the day after tomorrow, and if you've done something to make this right, you won't have to start looking for another senior field agent."

Gibbs stared after his SFA as Tony turned on his heel and left without another word. He took few minutes pondered what his first steps should be. One thing was certain, Tony was dead serious about leaving Gibbs' team over this. He had to do something, and hope it would be enough to stop that from happening.

AN: Chapter 4 coming soon!