A/N Coordinates are made up...not even sure where they would take you if you actually traced them LOL
Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming. I need the encouragement these days. I'm completely drowning in the winter blahs. Anyone else with me?
"How can you be certain, Boss?"
"He's a Marine, DiNozzo. It's an unwritten code."
"He's not a Marine yet."
"He's a Marine in all the ways that count." Gibbs took a long drink of his coffee.
"It's still a risk. He could just disappear."
Gibbs didn't reply and Tony sighed. He'd known Gibbs for a very long time and he'd grown quite used to the man's self-chosen selective mutism. Sometimes Tony suspected that even Gibbs didn't know why he did things the way he did so further inquiries would be futile. Tony picked up the binoculars beside him in the car and continued staring into the distance. He didn't even know what he expected to see. They were on an unplanned stakeout in the middle of some alleyway in an abandoned neighbourhood; an atypical Gibbs appointed vigil. Gibbs had a hunch and he was rolling with it.
"The kid's running scared. Why are you risking Aimee's safety on…?"
Tony felt a firm blow to the back of his head, smacking the binoculars out of his hands and into his lap. He grunted and shut up. Unless he wanted a severe case of brain damage, it was best if he just kept quiet until Gibbs wanted to speak.
Gibbs continued drinking his coffee and staring out into the blackness of the back alley. Tony looked through the binoculars and waited. He hated waiting. Sitting around and waiting always felt like watching and waiting for a tea kettle to come to a boil. Waste of time and pent-up energy. Time seemed to stay still, further irking him.
"There," said Gibbs suddenly, pointing into the distance.
Tony followed Gibbs' line of sight until he saw a figure appear in the distance. Gibbs couldn't see paperwork sitting on his desk in front of him yet the old codger could see a kid in the obscurity of a pitch black back alley. Go figure. Tony shook his head in wonderment. He had to hand it to Gibbs. The guy pegged Riley correctly. Tony thought Riley would have been long gone, saving his own skin yet there the kid stood.
"He can't help himself," murmured Gibbs.
Tony looked at his boss in confusion. "And you can't help him if he won't let you."
Gibbs continued watching the kid closely, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow. "That's not what I meant. He can't help himself from caring. He can't let this go any more than we can."
Tony watched as the young man scoped his surroundings carefully, not noticing the abandoned car that Gibbs and Tony sat in. The car had been there for a long time, just part of the everyday landscape now.
"Why is that?" mumbled Tony, not really expecting an answer. His words lingered.
"Do you see him, Ziva?" asked Gibbs.
"I see him, Gibbs," Ziva spoke into both their earpieces.
"Keep on him like a fat kid on smarties," said Tony.
Tony heard Ziva sigh at his euphemism. Tony smirked for a moment wondering how Ziva would process and assimilate his newest saying. He figured she'd eventually thoroughly butcher it. American euphemisms were often her downfall and definitely her biggest pet peeve.
Gibbs wasn't a trained profiler but he'd been around long enough to learn more than a few tricks and he was damned good at reading kids. For all the years Tony had worked with Gibbs, the older man was never wrong about a kid. Oh, he'd misjudged actions and reactions a time or two but the man was always dead on the money when it came to knowing how kids thought. Anytime the team worked with kids, everyone stepped aside and let Gibbs work his magic. More times than not, he did just that.
"He thinks you abuse Aimee."
Gibbs didn't flinch. "Her face was bruised up from her trek across the roof. It's understandable and probably why he didn't call me when he found her again."
Tony considered Gibbs words for a few moments. The fact that Gibbs didn't appear surprised nor dismayed by the information he'd shared made Tony feel wary. "What do you know that I don't?"
"Riley's a survivor, Tony."
Tony dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn't need to ask what Gibbs meant. He mightn't have told Gibbs a single thing about his past but Gibbs still knew. It was like the man had spoken one on one with his inner child.
"McGee did some digging around on Riley," continued Gibbs. "He comes from a small town in the middle of nowhere Arkansas, good kid, no juvenile record, average student. His mother operates a small coffee shop in town and his parents have been separated for a couple of years. Father served in the Marines and has an OTH discharge."
"Other than honourable?" Tony frowned. He knew that OTH discharges were only warranted when the reason for separation was based upon a pattern of behaviour that constituted a significant departure from the conduct expected of members of the Military Services.
"Son of a bitch likes to smack around his wife and kid. Social services have a file on him as long as my arm."
Tony was beginning to understand. "So, the kid escapes his ole man by joining the Marines." Inwardly, Tony cringed. In his mind, the kid had only traded in one abuse for another. Marine basic training wasn't fun by any stretch of the imagination.
Gibbs nodded. "That's my guess. His misguided attempt to win the favour of his father. Reported absent without leave a month ago."
"Okay, so why is he on the run?" That was the million dollar question, wasn't it?
Tony didn't expect an answer. Until they talked to the kid further, they wouldn't have those answers. And in the end, if Riley didn't want to talk, all they could do was turn him over his authorities. It really wasn't their problem. Tony looked at Gibbs in the dimness of the car. Gibbs' clenched jaw and worried expression spoke volumes.
"He is on the move, Gibbs," Ziva informed them.
"Stay on him, Ziver."
xXx—NCIS—xXx
Makayla set the heavy box on the floor and brushed her hands off on the back of her pants. She looked around the room and sighed. She'd been working for several hours moving boxes from one room to another.
"This is stupid," she mumbled. She knew it was Gibbs' way of letting her know who was in charge and she got that. She rubbed the seat of her pants subconsciously. She more than got it. She had no intention of ever taking off on her own again, at least not on Gibbs' watch. If Gibbs wanted her attention, he got it. She figured her poor butt would never be the same again. She hadn't anticipated him tenderizing her gluteal muscles so thoroughly. The more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she became. She chalked it up to one of the most mortifying experiences that had ever happened to her and never wanted it repeated. Like ever.
"Having fun?"
Makayla let out a small squeal as she spun on her heel to see Abby standing in the doorway. Abby covered her mouth to stifle a small giggle. "Sorry, Mackie, I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay, Abby. I guess I was too busy thinking to hear you come in."
Abby walked in and leaned against the wall. Her hair had loosened from its' usual pigtails and framed her face. Abby chewed on a hangnail for a minute all the while staring at the teenager. Makayla squirmed under the scrutiny and decided to carry more boxes across the hall. Abby followed.
"You do realize that this is a make work project, right?"
Makayla nodded as she moved yet another box. She wasn't sure what would happen if Gibbs came back and found that she hadn't moved all the boxes he had marked with a black sharpie before he left.
"I don't want to tick him off any more than he already is."
"Gibbs only acts like this because he cares, Mackie."
Makayla stopped, set the dusty box on the ground and put her hands on her hips in annoyance. "So, what's next? He comes back and makes me move them all back again?"
"He was worried, Mak…"
Makayla clenched her fists together and hit Abby with a hard look. "I don't need another lecture, Abby. I get it, okay? Gibbs did a damned good job of showing me how pissed off he was, so unless you came to help, just leave me alone."
Abby sighed and went to work helping.
Makayla continued moving the boxes without speaking further. Abby helped her and the silent offering of help was welcomed by Makayla, the more the merrier and then the job would be done so she could go home. Her Aunt Jenny wasn't letting her leave until Gibbs gave his approval. Apparently, her aunt was more ticked off than Gibbs and would rather keep her distance. As Makayla moved the boxes, her mind travelled to Aimee, wondering how she was doing and if she was safe. Her mind whirled back to the conversation she'd overheard in Gibbs room. She'd heard the entire exchange, from Aimee's side at least. Her conscience kept needling her relentlessly and it wasn't getting any easier to suppress. Makayla had been so angry about her own problems that she hadn't stopped to consider that maybe she should let Gibbs know what she'd heard. By the time she gave it any further thought, it felt too late. What would Gibbs say if he knew she'd kept stuff from him? He'd hate her if he didn't already. Or maybe worse.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Abby as she set down another box and sat on it.
"How much I hate my life."
"You do not. You're just mad you got your tail busted," stated Abby, finally acknowledging the elephant in the room. "How long are you going to stay in a snit before you get over it?"
Makayla couldn't have been more shocked if she'd been slapped across the face.
Abby continued. "And before you get all up in arms, Gibbs didn't tell me. He wouldn't do that. What happens behind closed doors stays behind closes doors."
"Then how did you know?"
"I saw you rubbing your heinie. I figured it out."
Makayla blushed. It was official. She was completely mortified. How many others had seen her inadvertently do that and put two and two together?
"Relax, Mackie. You've seen him smack Tony and McGee. It's nothing personal. Gibbs is old school and there isn't anyone that can teach that old dog new tricks."
Makayla sighed and sat down on her own box across from Abby. "Be easier if I could hate him."
Abby chuckled. "Yah, I know what you mean. Gibbs is just too...well, he's Gibbs. You can't hate him no matter how hard you try."
Makayla managed a small smirk. She definitely could testify to that statement. She'd tried very hard to hate Gibbs but just couldn't bring herself to do it. Out of everyone at NCIS, Gibbs had been her first friend. Despite his heavy-handedness, Makayla still liked Gibbs a lot. Only that knowledge just made her feel even more frustrated and guilty. It would have been easier to hate him.
"Mackie, what's bugging you?"
Makayla looked at Abby curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Call it my sixth sense, but I can tell that something else is eating at you. I can't imagine a few swats would make you this sullen."
Makayla blinked and looked down at her hands. How did Abby do that? It was like she could see right through her into her soul and it made her shiver.
"It wasn't just a few, Abby," Makayla mumbled as she blushed and turned away, tears filling her eyes. Truth be known, what Gibbs had done wasn't really bothering her as much anymore. She was still a little mad at him but her concern now was more focussed on Aimee. Her conscience was berating her endlessly. Makayla rubbed her hands up and down on the top of her jeans. She couldn't stop the image of Aimee floating around in her head, seeing the fear on Aimee's face and hearing the words spoken. Most of what she'd heard hadn't made much sense to her.
Abby stood and shuffled her box closer, sitting down and draping an arm around Makayla. "Aww, I'm sorry, Honey. I shouldn't downplay your feelings. I'd feel pretty humiliated if Gibbs did that to me too."
"You're an adult, Abby, pretty sure that ship has sailed."
Abby made a face. "With Gibbs, one can never be so sure."
"Abby, Gibbs would never hit a lady…he's too much of gentleman."
"Tell that to Ziva." Then Abby smirked. "He has you under his spell, Mackie."
Makayla frowned in confusion.
Abby sobered and hugged her. "You made an error in judgement, Mackie. No shame in that."
Tears rolled down Makayla's cheeks at the tenderness in Abby's voice.
"Hey, now, you really are upset. Sweetie, you need to discuss this more with Gibbs. I know he'd be upset to hear he hurt you this much. That was never his intention."
Makayla shook her head and choked back a sob. "No, Abby, it's not Gibbs. It's me."
"I don't understand," said Abby, brushing back Makayla's long mane of hair from her face, sympathy shining in her eyes.
"Abby, I think I know where Aimee went."
xXx—NCIS—xXx
Aimee sat on the cold floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was so cold that she couldn't stop trembling. Her stomach complained loudly. She was hungrier than she ever thought possible. She kept stubbornly wiping tears away. Crying wasn't going to help her now. Her heart rate increased once more when the door swung open suddenly and the same FBI man came in who had torn off her wet pants. Aimee glared at him when their eyes met. His face fell when he saw her and he cursed. He turned on his heel and shouted out the door.
"She got off the blindfold."
More cursing could be heard in the distance and the man disappeared for a few moments and then returned shutting the door behind him. She set her jaw firmly, preparing herself for whatever he had planned for her. He was about to find out that she was no pushover. The dark haired man carried a bag and he set it on the table in the centre of the room. He continued to stare at her as he pulled out items of clothing and some food. He tossed a pair of pants at her.
"Those should fit you, kid. Put them on."
Aimee did as he said, mostly because she longed for the warmth and the pants offered her that.
"Are you hungry? I brought you some food. It's not much but it should tide you over until we move you." FBI man held up what looked like to be a box of crackers and some chunks of cheese. Aimee felt her stomach gnaw at her. She slowly rose to her feet, keeping her back to the wall. Eating food was another thing that could only benefit her, make her stronger and help her be able to fight if she needed to.
"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe to eat." FBI man took a bite of some cheese to show her that it was safe for her to eat.
Aimee took a few steps forward and snatched the food from his hands, returning to the wall. She was famished. She couldn't shove the food in fast enough and she found herself choking on the dry crackers.
"Geez, kid. When was the last time you ate?"
Aimee stared at him as she kept eating.
"Thirsty? I got you some milk and cookies. Kids like that kind of thing, right?"
He tossed the food and milk on the table and sat down with a loud sigh. He kept staring at her while she ate. Aimee didn't make a move to get the milk or cookies. She just sat down and stared at him with big eyes. She chewed and swallowed one last time, never taking her eyes from his.
"You've got a lot of spunk, kid. I'll give ya that. Wish you hadn't of taken off that blindfold, though. Makes things a lot more complicated for me, that's for sure."
"You must like money," said Aimee, suddenly, surprising herself. She kept thinking about how much money the FBI man must be getting paid to take her to Brody. She didn't know much about life but she'd been around long enough to know that the FBI was pretty much at the top of things. If the guy was messing with that, it had to be worth a lot of money.
The man lifted a brow. "I beg your pardon?"
"The FBI is supposed to protect Americans and uphold the constitution, right?"
FBI man chuckled. "I was told you were a smart cookie."
Aimee's only response was to narrow her eyes. She didn't appreciate his condescension. She was nearly 10 years old and wasn't even a little bit stupid.
He sobered. "Look, kid, the less you know the better. Let the adults figure all this stuff out. I'm just doing my job and I'm not the bad guy."
Aimee hit him with a penetrating look of disdain.
FBI man stood up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of duct tape. Aimee's eyes widened as her jaw clenched. FBI man had no idea the fight he was about to engage in.
"Don't make this any harder, Aimee. We need to move you and this is the best way for everyone involved."
Aimee pressed her back against the wall, her whole body on alert.
FBI man made his way towards her, reaching to grab her. Quick as a wink, Aimee skirted past him and went towards the door. She kept her back to the wall and her eyes on him. Every time he made a move, she would outwit him. She was fast, slippery as a seal and determined. This was going to happen on her terms. If she was destined to die then she planned to look death straight in the face.
"Damn it, kid."
Aimee's heart raced in her chest as she anticipated FBI man's every move. He was predictable which almost made it fun. His heart obviously wasn't into what he was doing. Passion could supersede all things. Aimee was desperate. She had everything to gain and nothing to lose by keeping her distance.
All at once he made a move that caught Aimee by surprise, faking one way and moving the other. He caught her by the arm and the wildcat in Aimee was released. Gibbs had learned her tells. FBI man didn't stand a chance. Aimee bucked, kicked, bit, screamed and punched for all she was worth. In the end, of course, she could be no match for a 200 pound, healthy, fit FBI agent. Just like she would never be a match for Tony or McGee but Aimee fought valiantly anyway.
Tears sprang to her eyes as FBI man roughly taped her mouth and wrapped her hands around her back once more. He was breathing hard as he tossed her to the ground on her stomach. She heard him lean in close to her ear. "I'm not the bad guy, Aimee." He taped up her feet so she was utterly defenceless to protect herself again. He flipped her over and stared at her. "I know you think I'm the bad guy, but I'm not. I know I can't ask you to trust me, kid. Hopefully, when this is over, you'll understand." He pressed the blindfold over her face again. Aimee tried to move her head but it was no use. Soon she was immersed in darkness once more. FBI man picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Aimee whimpered and felt herself trembling. Something deep inside her knew that the time had come. This was it; whatever it was.
xXx—NCIS—xXx
Riley stumbled around in the darkness of the alley, walking in no particular direction. His mind was occupied. He kept going over the information saturating his mind. He'd heard numbers. As sure as he was still alive, hungry and up to his ears in more trouble than he'd ever been in his life, he'd heard numbers.
50° 00' 29.52" N 112° 36' 51.84" W
Riley went over the numbers in his head once more. He'd always been good with figures, ever since he was a little kid. He could do basic mathematics before he started kindergarten. Numbers just made sense. And he was a keen listener, even when he was occupied or terrified. The woman who had kept circling him and touching him had a two-way radio on her and he kept hearing the numbers repeated, almost completely absorbed in white noise. His mind picked them out as clearly as if someone had whispered them in his ear.
50° 00' 29.52" N 112° 36' 51.84" W
An 8 digit grid coordinate. He was sure of it. The coordinates kept being repeated over and over, yet the woman seemed completely unconcerned if he heard them. Something about that deeply bothered Riley. Whoever she was, she knew his name. She would know about him. Anyone could dig up a school record and know how good he was with numbers. It wasn't a secret. Riley stopped and leaned against the filthy wall, sliding down to the ground behind some dumpsters. He ran a shaky, filthy hand through his grimy hair.
50° 00' 29.52" N 112° 36' 51.84" W
An eight-digit grid coordinate enabled you to plot and pinpoint locations on the map that was accurate to 10 meters. Those numbers were leading to a destination. Likely to where that woman was supposed to take Aimee. And what was the name of the guy she'd mentioned? Almeida? Riley couldn't quite remember but he knew he would in time. He had the memory of an elephant. He never forgot a face and he never forgot details. He banged his head on the brick wall and cursed out loud. Why did this have to happen? Why the hell should he care what happened to some damned kid? She was nothing to him. Only Riley did care. He couldn't help himself. Something about Aimee resonated with him. That agent's words haunted him. Aimee is in severe danger. Those people aren't fooling around. They are going to kill her. Aimee was just a little kid. She should have been at home playing with Barbie dolls or climbing a tree, not fighting for her life. The twisted world they shared seriously sucked.
Riley reached into his pocket and felt around for the burned cell phone he'd managed to come by and the card in his pocket. He bit down on his lip until he drew blood considering his options. Everything was so damned messed up and he didn't see it getting better. He would never be in the position to help Aimee but maybe that Agent could. He had to try. He inputted the number and held his breath.
"Yah, Gibbs."
Riley shivered, licking his lip slowly and recognizing the metallic taste on his tongue. The voice on the line sounded soft, not intimidating. Definitely not what he expected.
"Don't talk. Just listen. I've got some coordinates for you. I think they might take you to your kid. 50° 00' 29.52" N 112° 36' 51.84" W"
"Riley, let me help you."
"Did you get them?" Riley heard talking in the background.
"Yah, I got them."
Riley ended the call.
xXx—NCIS—xXx
Gibbs lowered his hand, dropping his cell in his pocket. There were so many times in his life when his gut berated him and this was one of them. He trusted his instincts about people more than he trusted what he logically knew.
"Tim's got it, Boss."
Gibbs touched his earpiece. "Bring him in, Ziva but go easy."