Disclaimer: no legal rights to NCIS, no money being made.
Beta: Mike91848. So all mistakes are mine.
Warning: same as Chapter One
DETERMINED TO HOLD
Chapter Nine, foot in mouth
Tony went in an hour early the next day and went down to lockup to see Senior. The man was sitting on a cot in the small cell dressed in his undershirt and pants. His remarkably pristine cream shirt and virgin wool jacket were neatly folded on the cot. A pair of jailhouse shirt and pants were discarded in the small trash can by the sink. There was a breakfast tray on Senior's lap with leftover scraps of a one-serving size cereal box and small carton of milk, banana peel and juice cup. Senior had a coffee cup to his lips when DiNozzo turned the corner and came up to his cell.
"What do you want? Unless it's to bring me my money, cash money, get the hell out of here." Senior snarled in his best ever morning greeting as he glanced briefly at Tony than looked away disdainfully and picked up a piece of buttered toast.
"The guard you attacked is not pressing for assault charges, so they were dropped. Drunk and disorderly are still on the books and attacking a Federal Officer just doesn't go away so you'll be prosecuted for that. The good news is that I'm sure you can make bail. They'll set the bail high, $150,000, probably, once I tell them you have over a million and a half in cash and are a flight risk."
"One hundred fifty thousand bail, a million and a half left, you bastard?! What happened to the rest of it?" Senior was breathing like an angry steam engine on its last leg uphill.
"You blew it, that's what happened to it. And now, there's the bail money and the fines. You can pick your revised cashier's check up along with your other junk when you're released I suspect late this afternoon."
Senior finally found the wherewithal to respond. "Didn't I make myself clear? What is wrong with you, boy?" He angrily thrust the tray on the bed but conveniently nowhere near his neatly placed articles of clothing and stood up.
"I want cash! Do you hear me? Damn check does me no good! Can you understand that, get it through your thick skull? Get me the cash, put it in a paper bag and you won't have to see me again.
Tony finally saw the light and he laughed bitterly. "You're running from whom this time? Who's trying to get their hands on your money, old man? Or should I say their money you cheated them out of; your bookie, partner, child support, scammed widow, identity theft? Let me tell you something. I don't care!" Tony leaned closer and placed his hands on the bars in a white knuckled grip.
"Screw you and your cash! Get your check and go and don't come back or believe me, you won't like the consequences if you continue to mess in my life! And I know people, remember Mario? I have the ways and the means. Stay out of my life, stay away from my co-workers, drop dead for all I care, this is your last warning!"
Senior wasn't drunk. The effects of the alcohol had long since worn off and so had the artificial courage it gave him along with the temper and violence. What character flaws remained were no better; deceitfulness, slyness, cunning, evasion and his second nature after that, malice.
Being put in your place and your life threatened should have alerted anyone with common sense to back off, take their money and run. Senior shivered as he watched his son retreat back the way he had come and thought momentarily of doing just that.
But once Tony was no longer in sight and not an immediate threat, Senior had a quick about face. He jumped from his cot belligerently, shaking the food tray so much it bounced onto the floor and the messy trash scattered in all directions.
Senior rushed to the prison bars and tried rattling them but they were firmly attached to their foundation and didn't budge. He picked up the fallen tin cup and the rhythm of the cup banging against the bars accompanied by the yelling, cursing gush of fury and vitriol had the guards reaching for a gag and straight jacket.
But Senior had lost all control, he had to assert his authority over Junior somehow so screaming obscenities to Tony's retreating back would have to do.
"You're nothing! A nothing and a nobody, just like your mother! An incompetent fool and sucker who thinks he can tell me what to do...!"
That's all Tony heard and needed to hear as the closing prison doors swoosh and clang cut off the sound of the man's strained, hated voice. Tony resolved; Senior was no longer his concern. Whatever he was up to after this and whatever perfidy he and Ziva David may have, probably, cooked up together was irrepressible as far as he was concerned and out of his hands.
NCIS NCIS NCIS
Everyone was at their desk at 0900 hrs. If anyone noted Tony's heightened cheek color or pinched look, it wasn't mentioned.
"Fornell's late." Gibbs complained. "Get him up to speed when he shows up, DiNozzo."
They could set their watches by Gibbs' coffee break routine as he got up and left. As it was, Fornell arrived within five minutes of Gibbs' departure accompanied by his second, Ron Sack's looking spiffy in his regulated dark suit and tie but with the usual look of snooty disapproval on his mug. Another man, tall and somber followed behind Sacks carrying a brown folder.
"Agents DiNozzo, David, McGee." Fornell introduced, "You know Sacks. The other Agent is Senior FBI Agent John Nathan."
Fornell looked around noting Gibbs' absence with a frown before continuing without even bothering to ask where the jerker was. Trying to get his quota of a millionth cup of coffee before years end, thought the FBI agent spitefully. Fornell gave the NCIS agents present a sit-rep knowing very well that Gibbs would be filled-in by his posse when he returned.
"Agent Nathan was the lead investigator in the hit-and-run death of Agent Earl Holland. Agent Holland was Agent Jorge Carlson's best friend and partner and as you know, Carlson is working undercover in prison. Now what am I missing? What's this about a leak?"
Tony walked to the plasma and used the remote. "Jorge Carlson, your undercover agent, was engaged to Peggy Ringold. His mother is Yonta Carlson, the woman with the accent who made the call mistakenly to DiNozzo, Senior." Tony brought both women up on the screen.
"This man," And Tony grimaced in distaste as he pointed at the screen, "is Shane Ringold. He knows about Carlson's undercover work down to the last detail, probably even what cell he's in and everything about the bomb. He threatened Carlson's life and blackmailed Peggy into marrying him to save it."
"You've got a leak, Fornell." Said Gibbs' distinctive mocking voice from around the corner.
"So I gathered from the scant information you entrusted me with last night, Gibbs." Was Fornell's equally dry rejoinder.
Gibbs made his way to his desk and sat. "This is FBI's screw-up, Tobias, not NCIS'. You've got a leak. Thought you'd want to hear about that and your agent in trouble no matter what the time." Gibbs wasn't soft-soaping anything.
Sacks, of course, took offense first. "Now look here, Gibbs." But Fornell cut him off before he could get further.
"Ron, he's just baiting you. Don't fall for it," he warned the junior Agent.
"This isn't a joke, Fornell!" Said Sacks harshly, not willing to give up his belligerence.
"Don't you think I know that?!" Fornell raised his voice at Sacks and his unruly emotions but getting mad wasn't getting them anywhere. He took a deep breath to calm down before turning to address the rest of the group.
"We've got a leak!" Fornell admitted grimly. "That being the case, haste is of the utmost importance. Agent Nathan here will tell you what we've got on that hit-and run."
Agent Nathan stepped forward and pulled some papers from his folder. "This is the police report on the hit-and-run incident that caused Agent Earl Holland his life. Not too much reported, the police did a short but it appears adequate investigation into what appeared to be a routine traffic accident with no witnesses to prove otherwise."
"What do you mean routine traffic accident, I thought it was hit-and-run?" asked Ziva, with a frown.
"That's just it. His wife said Agent Holland went jogging early morning, still dark outside. He was run over by Joseph Shigera at a crosswalk. Shigera, however, claims one minute Holland wasn't there, the next, he was running over something in the road with his car. He swears he never struck the man, that the body was already on the ground and he ran over it. Shigera stayed and called the police. Cause of death was traumatic internal injuries consistent with being struck by a motor vehicle but time of death was off."
Agent Nathan paused in his narrative to sip at a bottled water. "I've gone over the evidence several times since being contacted by Agent Fornell. Agent Holland did expire from his injuries but hours before he was run over by Shigera's car. It was still hit-and-run and classified as vehicular manslaughter but now you're saying it was deliberate, a homicide, and I dug a little further."
Nathan pulled out the last piece of paper in his folder. "Holland's wife gave me a log book he kept at home. A couple of handwritten notations written two days before his death..." Nathan squinted at the yellow sheet before retrieving his glasses and putting them on. "The first notation says...'what's Georgie gotten into now?'"
Holland stopped reading to add, "Just so you know, most people at work called him Georgie. Okay, the next little bit is somewhat scribbled...'Margaret's here, upset, blackmail? Checking it out!'"
Nathan turned the page over. "This is the last entry, dated day before his death, 'holy shit! Get Georgie out! being followed? Spoke to Lead, asshole!'"
Nathan removed his glasses and looked at the others, "That's it, the next day he was dead."
"Who's the asshole he wrote about?" Asked DiNozzo.
"Yeah, that would be Lead Agent Harper, worthless; lazy and worthless. He said he spoke to Holland but it was a holiday weekend and nothing could be done, he'd look into it on Tuesday. And don't look at me like that, Gibbs. I'm sure NCIS isn't short on people willing to sit idly by rather than get off their butts and do some work!" Fornell defended his said guilty agency.
"Neither here nor there, Fornell. So Harper didn't follow up on Tuesday after Holland was found dead, I take it?" asked Gibbs.
"Right." Fornell didn't have it in him to further defend Harper.
"Holland knew his friend was undercover but not where or what it was about. He found out something, though, and got scared for him. Before he could tell the higher ups, he was silenced." Tony related the information they had thus far, almost thinking out loud.
"Who would he have gone to next, Fornell?"
"If he found out who Georgie's handler was, he would have gone to him." Said a previously silent Sacks.
"So? What happened?!" Gibbs was getting impatient with all this talk.
"We, as in myself, Sacks and Nathan, don't know who his handler is, we haven't been read in. I put a call in to the Director but that's it. Everyone else is suspect. We've got an appointment as soon as we leave here with what info we've got so far."
Fornell shook his head in disgust. "Anybody who claims they're from the FBI who's stupid enough to call over here trying to get information, stall him, trace the call, do whatever you can to nail the guy, then leave the SOB to me!" Stated Fornell with revenge in his voice for the traitor to his beloved FBI.
"Anything else?" questioned Fornell as he prepared to leave.
"We'll be following up on Mr Shannon Goldilocks." Said Tony, inadvertently using the nickname Ringold hated.
"Who? Who the he..." Started an irate Sacks.
"Never mind, Ron, he's joking. Gibbs? Alright to leave Agent Sacks here to liaison in this joint endeavor. You agree we've got to work fast on this?"
Gibbs raised eyebrow was telling but he kept his comment to himself. Leaving Ron Sacks here so he and DiNozzo could butt heads, not a good idea. And neither he nor McGee were enamored of the man either. But it was the FBI's show and when it came down to it, they were all professionals. He'd get back at Fornell at some future date, though, that was a guarantee.
"Sure, Fornell. Just find a seat, Sacks, and stay out of the way, we'll get along fine."
Sacks' stormy expression didn't lessen as Fornell and Agent Nathan left. Being treated like flotsam by Gibbs, he could put up with that, Gibbs treated his own people the same way. But that insufferable Tony DiNozzo. Words couldn't express the animosity he felt toward this bombastic, egotistical, braggart...
"Hey, Sacks, there's a desk behind Gibbs, grab a seat." Said the annoying voice of his nemesis. Sacks passed by DiNozzo's desk without a glance to set up at the desk he had indicated.
"You're welcome." Said Tony to Sacks' back and just barely avoided sticking out his tongue at the hostile Agent.
NCIS NCIS NCIS
"I changed the name to Carson, Boss. George Carson and deleted any references to Jorge Carlson that I initiated. There's been no response to those inquiries by the way. I'm hoping, well guessing...I feel almost sure that no one was looking." Floundered McGee, finally turning away from his computer after a marathon clicking of keys.
"Almost sure, McGee?"
"Well, I can't be one hundred percent, Boss. But the FBI is going to know who is making inquiries on their red-flags, aren't they? They knew right away we were looking."
Everyone turned to look at Sacks. "Yeah, yeah we would know. If someone unauthorized is set to receive a red-flag on someone. It should be...hold on."
Sacks reached for his phone. They waited while he conversed with someone at the FBI. A few minutes later he had an answer. "The only red-flag inquiry regarding Carlson was from you guys, so whoever the leak is, he knows better than to try and access that information. We'd know who he was right away."
"Good call, McGee. But somebody over there is still leaking information so we don't let our guard down, no chatter. DiNozzo, what'd you find out about Ringold?"
"Not a whole lot to report, Boss. His family's back in the money after losing most of it in bad railroad stock. He's got a share of the family money and he's invested very lucratively in real estate. No history of any jail time, no record at all, not even a parking ticket. Clean as a whistle."
"Too clean." Gibbs remarked thoughtfully.
"Or too smart to be caught," agreed Tony.
Gibbs was agitated, his emotions just barely evident by his silent flinty stare at the orange wall. DiNozzo's troubled wrapping of a pencil in a rubber band numerous times showed his state of mind. Who knew what McGee was clicking on his keyboard and Ziva felt betrayed. She had quietly tried to contact her father, perhaps he knew something of this recent threat, but he had refused her call. Even the outsider, Sacks, was scribbling nonsense on his notepad. They were at a standstill, had nothing, were going nowhere, and were running out of time!
"We need a campfire," said DiNozzo with enthusiasm, jumping up and moving his chair to the middle of the bull pen.
"I'm going for coffee," said Gibbs as he got up and left but he didn't say either yea or nay so to Tony, that was a green light for go. Strangely enough, Ziva rose from her seat with alacrity and pushing her chair in front of her, placed it next to Tony's where she sat and crossed her legs.
Both McGee and Sacks showed their reluctance by the scowls on their faces. Tim unwillingly obliged the fool because Tony wouldn't stop pestering until he got his way. Sacks was not inclined to play so kept his head down and continued to amuse himself by playing Hangman on his paper tablet.
Ignoring him, Tony looked at the other two NCIS agents then down at his notes. "Okay, what do we know about Ringold?"
"That he has a clean record and therefore should not be involved with people who would know anything about what goes on behind the bars of a jail. Also, he is rich and there are no hidden large sums of money being deposited to any of his accounts," reported Ziva.
"There's no unusually large sums of money going out, either. He has not served in the military and is not politically inclined or partisan to any particular political party." McGee added, sounding somewhat perturbed at what he had just managed to enunciate.
"Wow! That's a lot of peas, McNutbutter," joked Tony. "I like mine with chunks."
Ziva groused, "Really, Tony? Are you going to contribute or just fool around? If that is the case, I will..."
"No, really, Ziva. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich sounds good for a snack right now. Campfire over!" Tony pushed his chair back to his desk in a hurry and settled to typing at his computer.
The junior agents stared at each momentarily dumbfounded by Tony's sudden departure back to his computer after only three minutes of his infamous campfire time. Tim's irreverent thoughts were that one, Tony had had a lightbulb moment, or two, his attention deficit hyperactive disorder had just kicked in and he needed a pill, or three, he had really just run off to get some food. Or all of the above.
Sacks looked down his nose at all of them.
McGee stood up and shoved his chair back to his desk. "Tony, what the heck are you doing?" he groused. Tim had been frustrated already with his lack of progress in finding any clue to aid their case. Now, he was equally affronted that Tony had interrupted his as yet futile computer effort and had made them endure his crappy campfire and the only thing that had come out of it was peanut butter?
Ziva went back to her desk without saying a word.
"Well, what'd you find?" Gibbs was back and wanted some answers.
"Nothing, Agent Gibbs. Absolutely nothing." Sacks had lost his bored look to point out their failings.
"We sat around in a circle and played musical chairs and Tony was the umpire." Ziva tried being diplomatic but her mocking tone dispelled that notion.
McGee wisely kept his mouth shut as he tried to figure out what clue they had missed and Tony had not.
More than irritated, Gibbs ignored them and directed his attention to Tony. "DiNozzo?"
"One minute, Boss." Tony worked hurriedly but not feverishly, oozing confidence in what he was doing and the results he would get.
"I think Tim here has solved our problem. Just let me pull it up."
I have? mouthed McGee to Ziva, who just shrugged and pretended not to be confused also.
Bloated grandstander, thought Sacks, growing more impatient by the minute. DiNozzo was a bumbling fool. "If you ask me, I think you should turn what info you have over to the FBI, Gibbs. It's obvious you're getting nowhere with this."
"No one asked." Said Gibbs over his shoulder as he continued to wait for Tony's information.
"Here it is, look at this." Tony jumped up from his desk and hurried to the plasma screen.
"Ringold's family found oil on their land and now the older brothers run the oil business as did their father before them. Shane branched off and started to grow, you're never going to guess." Tony eagerly looked at their mirthless faces and realized they weren't going to guess, much less even going to try to guess, and he'd probably get overly ripened red tomatoes thrown in his face if they had any. Party pooper spoilsports, hethought.
"DiNozzo, move on!"
"Moving on, Boss. Anyway, it's peanuts. He grows peanuts. That's significant because, I remembered at the time I thought it was a pretty lucrative way to earn money without working too hard, more like a hobby."
He looked at his teammates blank faces and realized they hadn't picked up on anything...sometimes he wondered about them. Before Gibbs tried to clobber him, Tony moved the clicker and another man's face came up.
"This is Madison, remember him? Kyle Madison? The reason Agent Carlson is playing a mole in prison in the first place? 'Kyle Madison', murderer, arms and drug dealer, and more recently, plutonium acquisition, and...peanut farmer. The family has land in the middle of nowhere boondocks of South Carolina where they grow their peanuts that they sell on the market. However, in between their peanut crop they grow marijuana and ATF busted one of the brothers for that. He escaped from custody and no one's seen him since. The other brother and sister, and other relatives and inbreds are still on the farm. They're hostile isolationists and hate any authority, and just about everyone else."
Tony waited for someone else to pick up the point and wasn't disappointed.
"So that's how they know each other," continued McGee. "Ringold and the guy in jail, Madison, were in the same business and probably had limited dealings with each other."
"So we've got Ringold and Madison knowing each other casually but that doesn't get us to how Ringold knows about FBI Jorge Carlson." Sacks spoke reluctantly, knowing where this was headed.
"Someone in the FBI is a traitor and was bought by Ringold." Gibbs flatly stated.
They all looked at Sacks. "Sure, if enough money passed hands and a person was desperate, well...it could happen in any Agency." Sacks admitted it, no one was perfect. He finally came down off his high horse's feet of clay and admitted, if just to himself, that someone in the FBI would betray his beloved organization that way.
"Yeah, tell us about it." McGee was thinking about the tragedy of Lee and Shepard and the other moles and traitors that had recently been ferreted out of NCIS.
"So Ringold goes after his rival Carlson by threatening his life in prison to make Peggy Stratum his slave, oh excuse me, his wife in marriage. He finds a traitor in the FBI to bribe and..." began Tony.
"...and this traitor reported Carlson's undercover assignment to him and that's how Ringold could blackmail Peggy into marrying him." Sacks concluded, short and succinct.
"What a pig!" snarled Ziva.
"It has to be someone with high enough clearance to find out where Carlson's undercover assignment was," stated Sacks.
Gibbs' phone rang and a brief conversation ensued then he hung up abruptly. "Fornell's on his way. He has some news."
Gibbs looked around the room at his team and Sacks. What an extraordinary job they had done; sneered and jeered at campfire notwithstanding. They had found the missing link that had tied it all together and there was a light at the end of the tunnel now. In one of his very rarest of giving moments Gibbs spoke briefly from his heart, "Good work."
He than broke the awkward intensity of that moment by getting up and headed up the stairs. "I'll brief Vance."
The sudden quiet was broken by McGee. "Did he just compliment us?"
"I do not quite know, I think he did, yes, that must be what it was." Said a wondering Ziva.
Tony just turned back to his computer with a shrug. "Who knows? Now, who's turn to go for a coffee run?"
"Like you don't know it's your turn, Tony! But I take the hint. I'll go since you found that clue. Why'd you say I found it, anyway? I'll tell Gibbs once he comes back that..."
"We're a team, Tim, no need. And bring me back a jelly donut, I'll imagine there's peanut butter on it."
Tim just shook his head and took off with the coffee order, and Ziva decided to trail along with him.
Tony had forgotten about Sacks who came up behind him. "You're something else, DiNozzo. How come you act stupid but in real life you're far from it?" Sacks had finally figured it out; why Gibbs put up with him and Fornell coveted him as an FBI agent. Sacks still couldn't stand the guy but at least he had some redeeming qualities.
"I could ask you the same thing, Sacks." And there was no sign of the mockery and tomfoolery that Sacks was usually exposed to whenever he encountered the Senior Field Agent.
"You act all aggressive, which just makes you look pretty stupid. Are you stupid, Sacks, because you are stupid or because people put down their guard when they think you're stupider than they are? I know which one I am, which one are you?"
Sacks didn't have time to answer when the elevator doors opened and Fornell stepped out.
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