Chapter 4
Gibbs struggled to control his growing irritation. This meeting wasn't going as well as he'd have liked. He'd arrived ten or so minutes early, and Marino had greeted him with a sly question about where Tony was. He'd given their cover story, and Marino had told him to wait. About five minutes later, he'd escorted him to the same private room as before where he found Sullivan waiting with a couple of goons.
He'd been surprised to see the man's clothing. He was wearing skin tight leather pants, a loose silk shirt with a silk tie and boots, all in black. He also wore a studded leather wristband, rather like something Abby might wear. All very unexpected for a marine colonel. Gibbs himself was wearing an expensive suit, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Gibbs had been provided with a fresh, unopened bottle of Maker's Mark, and then Sullivan, too, had asked after Tony. After Gibbs had explained that Tony was working elsewhere, Sullivan had sent Marino away, and they'd gotten to talking. At first, things had seemed reasonable, but they were now starting the second hour of going absolutely nowhere.
A bouncer walked into the room and walked up to speak quietly in Sullivan's ear. Taking the opportunity, Gibbs rose. "If you're not willing to get down to business this evening, I think I'll call it a night," he said. "Perhaps you can have your boy call me later and set up another meeting." He wondered what had gone wrong. Sometimes an op just soured and you never found out why. He hoped that wasn't the case this time. They had to nail this bastard. The more time Gibbs spent with him, the more sure he was that their suspicions were dead on the money.
"Actually, I've got something to show you that I think might interest you, Gibson," Sullivan said, standing up as well.
"What?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Sullivan smiled, and Gibbs didn't like the smile. "It's a surprise, my friend," he said.
Gibbs shrugged and said, "Fine."
Sullivan led him out the door and to the left, away from the bar. "I was disappointed that you didn't bring your Mr. Vellucci, tonight," he said.
"Vellucci's busy elsewhere," Gibbs replied shortly. He didn't like all this interest in Tony, and he wanted to make that clear.
"But you see, when a man wants to do business with me, and he sends his pet out of harm's way, it makes me nervous," Sullivan said, and Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the back of the man's head. Pet? Was Tony's absence responsible for the merry-go-round? Sullivan opened a door and led Gibbs into a dim room with a large mirror set into the wall, clearly one-way glass. The room on the other side of the glass was pitch black. "And I so wanted to see him for myself after Marino's description . . . that I sent for him."
At that moment, the bouncer hit the lights in the other room, and Gibbs saw Tony sitting in a chair on the other side. His arms were clearly tied behind him somehow, and he was wearing a blindfold. He twisted and jerked as he struggled against the bonds that held him, and his mouth was moving, but Gibbs couldn't hear him. He didn't look hurt, just angry and alarmed, but Gibbs was ready to kill someone. Little as he thought of Commander Stevens' decision to ban Tony from the op altogether, he himself didn't want Tony within a stone's throw of Marino, certainly not posing as Gibbs' submissive lover. It gave him too few protections. Now he was not only far too close, he was immobilized. And the way Sullivan was looking at him set off alarms in Gibbs' head.
Anger surged. His hand went for his Sig, but he heard two guns cocking, one behind him and one to his left. He moved his hand away and settled for glowering at Sullivan. "What's the meaning of this?"
"Relax, Gibson," Sullivan said. "Nothing's been done to him."
"Why is he here?" Gibbs demanded. "He's got a job to do, and he's missing his flight."
"I already told you, having you try to put your pet out of my reach just before we started our business makes me uneasy. It makes me wonder what you're planning to pull."
Gibbs heard Tony's ring tone, and they both turned towards Marino, who dug out the phone. "This is the second call from someone named Abby," he said.
Gibbs wrenched the phone out of the other man's hands and answered it. "Abby? Tony's going to be late."
"Gibbs? What's . . . why do you . . ."
"Get started on your own," he ordered, and hung up before she had a chance to make a response, pocketing the phone in a smooth, quick motion.
"Who was that?" Sullivan asked.
"Someone we work with from time to time," Gibbs said. "Vellucci was going to meet her." He could tell that Sullivan wanted the phone, but since Gibbs knew it was DiNozzo's work phone, he wasn't giving it up without a fight, something Sullivan clearly didn't want to engage in just now. "All right, we're done. Get Vellucci out here and we'll be leaving."
"Hold up there, Gibson," Sullivan said. "I haven't even met your friend yet."
"And I don't intend for you to."
"Don't trust him to resist my manly charms, huh?" Sullivan asked, his amused superiority grating against Gibbs' fury.
Reining in his temper, Gibbs raised his eyebrows. That thought had truly never occurred to him. "It's not him I don't trust," he said with an unfriendly smile.
"Oh? Then you don't trust your own ability to protect him?"
"I don't trust a man who pulls my boy off a job I need him doing for a lark," Gibbs replied, walking very close to Sullivan. "And my decision to send him on to Austin had nothing to do with either you or Marino. Get him out here now."
Sullivan didn't seem the least bit intimidated by Gibbs, but Gibbs had played the back and forth game of intimidation for years. They were both putting on a show. The question was whose show would last longer. "You ready to negotiate our deal?" Sullivan asked.
"I'm ready to leave now."
"You leave now, you leave without Vellucci," Sullivan said flatly.
"That's not happening," Gibbs said just as flatly.
"Well, then, let's adjourn to the meeting room again." Gibbs glanced over at DiNozzo. "All of us, and if you agree to my conditions, you can even take him home with you."
"Just what conditions would those be?"
"I'll explain them once we're all settled, Gibson," Sullivan said with exaggerated patience.
Grinding his teeth, Gibbs followed because he didn't have much choice. He certainly couldn't leave Tony here, and he hadn't heard from his back up since he'd left the meeting room. By now they had to know something was wrong, but they weren't to enter unless he went out of contact for 90 minutes, and it hadn't been that long yet. Abby had also undoubtedly contacted them by this point, so they knew that Tony was back involved.
He followed Sullivan to the meeting room, where cushions had now been placed beside the chairs he and Sullivan had occupied. A young man with dark hair and light eyes knelt half-naked on the cushion beside Sullivan's chair. He wore leather pants, a black spiked collar with matching wrist cuffs, and nothing else. His nipples were pierced and there were chains running from the collar to each of the piercings. His body showed clear evidence of both recent and long term physical abuse. Sullivan walked over to the chair, sat down, and rested his hand on the back of the young man's head. The boy flinched, but then, when no abuse was offered, he leaned into Sullivan's hand.
Sullivan smiled down at his . . . the terminology Gibbs had studied briefly flitted through his head. Slave seemed to fit the look and behavior of the young man. It made Gibbs profoundly uncomfortable, but he knew that there were people who sought out this kind of relationship.
"This is Nathan," Sullivan said. "He is mine as Vellucci is yours, but I don't permit him a surname. If he makes the grade, I may have him legally adopt mine, but he's a long way off from earning that privilege." Nathan's eyes flitted up, but he didn't actually look at his master. He leaned into the hand again and Sullivan reached down and gave one of the nipple chains a tweak that made Nathan wince. "Still, boy!" he snapped sharply, and Nathan went statue-still. After a brief pause, Sullivan smiled again and looked at Gibbs. "For now he serves me in a variety of capacities, but none so proactive as your boy's service." He tilted his head. "What was it Marino called him? Your bird dog?"
Gibbs wondered what was keeping his 'bird dog.' "That's an apt description," he said. "Where is he?"
Sullivan smiled and Gibbs thought seriously about shooting him.
"Gibbs, is Tony there?" asked Kate's voice in his ear. "Abby says you answered his phone."
The door opened before he could think of any way of subtly answering her question. In the time since he'd seen him, Tony had been stripped of his shoes and shirt. Gibbs' jaw set angrily. There were bruises coming in on his agent's arms, and the cuffs had been replaced after he'd been disrobed. The blindfold was still there, and Tony stood rock solid and vibrating with contained anger. Gibbs suspected that the only reason he wasn't fighting was the man who stood beside him with a gun pressed into his ribs.
"Son of a bitch!" Gibbs growled, shooting to his feet.
"I guess that answers that," Kate's voice said in his ear, then she went silent again.
Tony turned his head towards Gibbs the moment he spoke, and Sullivan chuckled. "'He hears his master's voice,'" he quoted mockingly. Tony didn't respond, didn't so much as turn his head towards the bastard, and Gibbs was relieved to see it. He wondered how much research Tony had done, hoping to reverse his, Morrow's and Commander Stevens' decision.
"I didn't authorize that," Gibbs added in a calmer voice.
"He is a pet, a slave," Sullivan said silkily. "He has no right to clothing in this room unless I permit it, guest or not. Be glad I didn't strip him bare." Sullivan rose as well, handing his glass off carelessly to Nathan, who took it and held it reverently. He walked towards Tony and put a hand out towards his chest.
Gibbs took two steps forward and intercepted the other man's reach. "You touch him, I take your fingers off," Gibbs said, his tone quietly forbidding.
"Get your hand off me," Sullivan said.
"Then keep your hands off my property," Gibbs replied, releasing Sullivan's wrist. "Him too," he added, glaring at the guy with the gun.
Sullivan nodded and the guard let go of Tony's arm and stepped away. Gibbs unbuckled the blindfold and threw it at the guard. Tony blinked several times, but didn't otherwise react. Gibbs pointed towards the cushion, and Tony walked over and sank down to his knees with surprising grace. His eyes darted everywhere in the room, and Gibbs didn't see any sign of the 'severe mental distress' Stevens had predicted if Tony should participate in any way in the mission to bring Sullivan in, but then again he'd thought she was full of shit when she'd said it. "The keys?" Gibbs asked, his voice a little harsh.
"No," Sullivan said, seating himself again. "He stays cuffed. He's been a little too free with his fists." He nodded towards the wall behind DiNozzo. Gibbs glanced up and saw Marino standing there. The enormous black eye Gibbs had noticed on the right side of his face was only partially balanced by a swelling on his left jaw.
Gibbs walked over and sat down, resting his hand on the top of Tony's head. "You got a problem with your right hand, Vellucci?"
"No Boss," Tony said. Gibbs ruffled Tony's hair and lowered his hand.
"Yes," Gibbs said, "I can see he's been busy, but only against those who try to touch him without my permission."
"And no doubt against anyone he perceives as a threat to you," Sullivan asked, and Gibbs nodded reluctantly. He knew damned well that no order would prevent DiNozzo from trying to defend him whether it was sensible or not.
"Your conditions?" he asked.
"I'm offering you a choice. I figure you need my business a hell of a lot more than I need yours. You didn't leave sunny Florida for snowy Virginia on a whim."
Gibbs's narrowed. He'd liked the plan of being a criminal in need of a home right up until DiNozzo wound up kneeling in cuffs on the floor beside him. "I assume you have a point?"
"You leave tonight, both of you, but as I said, you have a choice. You want in, you come back here tomorrow night and accept the conditions I give you, and no more trying to put Vellucci out of my reach. You don't bring him tomorrow night, you just don't bother to come."
"What conditions?" Gibbs asked. When Sullivan started to shake his head, he raised his hand. "I'm not making my decision blind. Even supposing I need you more than you need me, that doesn't mean you don't need me."
Sullivan raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. "If you come back tomorrow night, you leave with Mark and Rudy." He gestured at the man who had come with Tony, and the man who had come in earlier, while they were talking. "They're Vellucci's bodyguards till I say otherwise. Anytime Vellucci's in public, alone or with you, one of them is with him. Anytime you leave him alone, they stay with him – everywhere he goes. They follow him into the john. I'm not happy with you, they bring him to me, and you have to come get him. Always assuming he wants you back at that point."
"As if!" Tony snapped. Gibbs gave him a solid whack on the back of the head, and DiNozzo looked instantly at the floor. "Sorry Boss."
Sullivan gazed at him thoughtfully. "He is interesting. Both fire and discipline. It's a difficult combination to maintain."
"Depends on your techniques," Gibbs said. "So, what time do you expect us tomorrow night?"
"You're not here by midnight, you'd better be on your way out of the MidAtlantic region."
"I see." Gibbs glanced down at Tony. "His clothes?"
"I'm sure he'll survive a cab ride as he is," Sullivan said.
"The keys?"
"Standard handcuff keys," Sullivan replied. "Good night, Gibson. I hope I see you tomorrow evening. A cab is waiting for you."
Gibbs stood and Tony rose to his feet with fair grace given that his hands were bound behind him. They got into the cab that was waiting for them. Before Gibbs could tell him which hotel, the driver supplied the information in the form of a question. Gibbs nodded sourly and sat back. They rode in silence, but Gibbs tried to keep the cover up by putting an arm around his 'lover.' When Tony hissed in pain and pulled away, Gibbs shifted sideways and turned. "What is it?" Tony glanced at the driver, but Gibbs shook his head. "What is it, Tony?" he demanded.
"It's nothing, Gibson," Tony said, twisting so that his arms didn't cover his ribs quite as completely. The movement made him hiss again, and Gibbs could see why. There, covered by liquid bandage, was a long, shallow cut along Tony's ribs.
"That's not nothing," Gibbs growled, and Tony relaxed as much as he was able. He was already shivering. "What happened?"
Tony gave him a dark look. "They didn't take off the cuffs to take my shirt and jacket off, that's all."
Gibbs pressed his lips together grimly. "How am I supposed to get you into my hotel room like this?" he asked.
"You give me cash, I give you key," the driver said.
Gibbs looked up, startled, meeting the driver's knowing eyes in the mirror. He looked over the seat, and saw a cheap nylon jacket, sized in proportion to the cabby's ample dimensions. "How's this? I give you fifty bucks, you give me a key and that jacket."
"Done."
Gibbs didn't even waste time wondering why a cab driver had handcuff keys. He probably didn't want to know. He just took the key, unlocked the cuffs on Tony's wrists and handed the key back to the driver in exchange for the jacket. Tony put it on and wrapped it tightly around himself. It was plenty big enough in volume, but the sleeves were a little short. Gibbs nodded. An ill-fitting jacket and bare feet might look odd at his hotel, but less odd than a half-naked man in handcuffs.
They went through the lobby and into the elevator and got to the room that was fitted out as Tony Vellucci and Gibson Howe's love nest. Tony hadn't seen it before and he let out a soft whistle, fingering a pair of suede-lined manacles that lay on the bed, four inch wide shiny steel bands with black suede.
Gibbs pointed silently, and Tony caught sight of the clothes he'd been requested to provide and pulled the jacket off instantly. "Let me get a look at that, Tony," Gibbs said, and Tony looked at him, startled.
"I'm more upset about the loss of my Gaultier shirt and my Dolce & Gabbana jacket," Tony said irritably, pulling on a fresh shirt. "And they'd better be planning on giving the shoes back or I'll take the three-fifty out of Marino's hide."
"I thought those were four hundred," Gibbs asked, raising his eyebrows.
It took Tony a moment to register that Gibbs was speaking for the benefit of possible eavesdroppers, and that he was implying it was his money that had been spent. "The other fifty was for the belt," Tony said. "They didn't take that."
"Good," Gibbs said with an odd grin. "I like that belt." His tone was rich with innuendo, then he turned on the CD player before pulling out Tony's cell phone. He dialed and held the phone up to his ear. "No, director, it's not DiNozzo, it's Gibbs. No, he didn't come to the bar on his own." He saw Tony's outraged expression out of the corner of his eye. "No, he was abducted, but I don't have any details yet. Yeah, that's what I thought. We'll be there when we can be sure we're not being followed. No, I don't want to end the op."
Tony was buttoning, and he looked up at that. Sullivan had been unsubtle about what was required for a deal, and Tony was part of it. He held his breath.
"You already know what I think of Stevens' opinion," Gibbs said, then he pressed end and dialed again. "Kate, call this phone when you're in the garage."
Kate blinked at the steering wheel. "I'm here already, Gibbs," she said, having not taken a roundabout route to reach the hotel. "You can't possibly be considering continuing the op."
"Were you followed?" Gibbs asked, and he sounded pissed.
"I don't think so," she said, uncertain what was fueling his response. "I kept an eye out, and I didn't see anyone, but Sullivan said plainly that you couldn't come back without Tony, and you obviously can't take Tony, so the op is over."
"The op is over when I say it's over, Kate," Gibbs said, and his anger reverberated down the line. "We'll be down shortly. Don't draw attention to yourselves and do not come to the room. Stay in the car. Are you in the parking spot we discussed?"
"Yes, Gibbs," she said.
The phone clicked off and she pursed her lips. "Is he mad?" McGee asked, and she just glared at him out of the corner of her eyes. "I told you I thought we should –" When she turned towards him, the anger on her face caused him to flush and break off. She rested her head against the seat back and made sure the rear doors were unlocked.
When Gibbs shut the phone with an irritated grimace, Tony tilted his head. "What's up?"
Gibbs looked over at him. "Well, for starters, you haven't let me see that cut. A quick glance in the back of the cab doesn't cut it."
Tony stared at him disbelievingly for a moment, but when it became clear that Gibbs did want him to take his shirt back off, he started unbuttoning. Gibbs bent over and looked at the cut, then snapped the CD player off. "Doesn't look like it needs stitches, but I think we'd better have a doctor look at it."
"Whatever you say, Boss," Tony said.
"What are you standing around for, Vellucci? Get dressed."
Tony rolled his eyes and put his shirt back on. Unfortunately, he hadn't provided any footwear for the cover, so he was stuck with a pair of Gibbs' socks. They went down to the parking garage and found the car with Kate and McGee in it. They slid into the rear seats from either side, and Kate turned as soon as the doors were shut. "So, Tony, you couldn't stand not to get involved, huh?" she asked.
"Why is everyone assuming I did anything?" Tony asked.
"Let's get moving," Gibbs said. Kate started the car and pulled out of the spot.
Tony cleared his throat. "For your information, Kate, I went to Vellucci's hotel room to pack up my gear, figuring that during the meeting was the perfect time because all the interested parties would be busy. Unfortunately, Marino and two of the bruisers from the club were not. They showed up."
"Oh," Kate said, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Sorry." He looked away, annoyed.
"Save the rest for the debriefing," Gibbs said, and Tony slumped in the seat. He sat up again sharply when that position didn't agree with the cut on his side.
"You okay, Tony?" Kate asked.
"The debriefing," Gibbs repeated, and they went the rest of the way in silence.
