Chapter Six: Paralyzing Fear
The doubt that had started creeping in when Senior appeared at NCIS settled in to stay as soon as Tony set foot in the crime scene. The gung-ho attitude and confident demeanor he'd worked up in the car on the way over faded as he stared at the dead body on the front lawn of a very expensive looking house and listened to the deceased's relatives sobbing uncontrollably nearby, begging for answers. It was his responsibility to get those answers but the only information he had at that point was that the infinity symbol with Semper Fidelis and the Marine Corps logo interwoven in opposite corners of the never ending figure eight on the girl's shoulder suggested their victim was a Marine. He didn't even know the girl's name. How was he supposed to get answers when he didn't even know the victim's name?
All the other times he'd been at a crime scene all he'd had to do was secure the perimeter or complete other menial tasks. Tony couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the daunting task in front of him. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Why did he ever think he could investigate crimes for a living? Maybe his father had been right after all.
"Talk to me."
Jethro's voice broke through the inconsolable sobs of the relatives, the radio traffic coming from the two ways all the officers on scene were wearing and the flashing strobe lights lighting up the night sky. Tony focused on that and let the man ground him, something Jethro had proven to be very good at.
"She's likely a Marine," Tony replied dumbly. He was desperate to impress but lost and overwhelmed at the same time.
"Anything else?" Jethro asked. There was no judgment in his tone. He could see how lost Tony was and knew the man well enough to know he was being unfairly hard on himself. Confusion was part of the chaos that came with everything else that was going on and he was confident he could channel Tony's anxiety into something a bit more productive.
Tony looked around, desperately grasping for anything to latch onto and impress Jethro with but he saw nothing. Everything he wanted out of life, everything he'd hoped for in his future was slipping through his fingers and all he could do was stand there with a lost, pathetic look on his face. And not only that, Jethro had stuck his neck way out for him; he'd gone to great lengths to help him achieve the position he was currently in and now the man was going to find out what all the others had… he was a disappointment, a fraud, worthless as a cop. He turned back to Jethro, his always present smile slipping into a disappointed frown. "Will you just be my sugar daddy?" he asked quietly.
"Huh?" Jethro usually understood Tony's humor but that comment went right over his head.
"I'm not cut out for this, Jethro," Tony whispered, hoping no one would overhear him. "I don't fit in here. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I was thinking."
Jethro reached around and slapped the back of Tony's head, causing the man to quiet down instantly and stand tall in front of him. "Nobody has all the answers the second they step into a crime scene. Now focus."
The man was stern in the best way possible, with his finger wagging in Tony's face as if to prove the point and Tony responded instantly.
"Rule number two," Jethro continued, pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket, shaking them out and handing them to Tony, "always wear gloves at a crime scene."
"What's rule number one?" Tony asked curiously.
"Focus, Tony," Jethro reminded the man.
"Right."
"Rule thirty five, always watch the watchers."
"The watchers?" Tony questioned.
Jethro turned and glanced at the growing crowd of curious onlookers.
"Oh, sneaky," Tony said with a slight chuckle, "'cause perpetrators like to come back to the scene of their crime, see what's going on, relive the moment."
"With me," Jethro said, crooking a finger as he headed towards the body.
Under Jethro's watchful eye, Tony got a taste of collecting evidence and examining the body a little more closely, learning a couple more rules in the process. Both agents listened as Ducky added a few more details about their victim and her suspected cause of death before they headed towards the crowd to speak with the few witnesses the patrol cops thought might have valuable information.
As Tony observed, he couldn't help but be impressed by Jethro's ability to turn insignificant things into important details and his knack for coaxing important information out of people. He paid close attention, following the man's lead and quickly slipping into his new role, letting his confidence grow as book smarts turned to street smarts.
"Ya did good, DiNozzo," Jethro praised as they began to wrap things up at the crime scene. They'd spent the last couple hours gathering all kinds of valuable evidence and now it was time to head to the Navy Yard to attempt to make sense of it.
"Thanks, Boss," Tony beamed. He almost couldn't believe that a couple short hours ago he'd been ready to throw in the towel. He put the last of the evidence they'd collected into the trunk of the sedan then stepped back so Jethro could close it.
"Alright, get this back to Abby so she can get started processing it," Jethro instructed, dangling the car keys in front of Tony, "then I want you running background on our vic. Got it?"
"Yes, Boss," Tony answered, opening his hand beneath Jethro's and catching the car keys when the man dropped them. "How will you get back?"
"I'll ride back with Ducky. See you in an hour."
Tony was practically glowing as he headed towards DC on the mostly abandoned roadways in the middle of the night. His confidence had grown throughout the night as he worked side by side with Jethro, investigating what could only be described as a brutal murder. Their personal relationship had turned to a professional relationship with no effort at all, turning Jethro into a mentor that guided him with ease and respect, allowing him to learn and grow.
The book smarts and fake scenarios Tony had experienced at FLETC were translating fairly easily into the real life case he was now faced with. He was catching on quick. The overwhelmingly lost feeling that had nearly paralyzed him when he'd arrived at the crime scene had been replaced by a to-do list that was a mile long and Tony's new task was prioritizing the list.
He was busy making a mental note of what he needed to accomplish when he heard the scream of sirens behind him.
"Shit," he muttered, glancing at his speedometer. He didn't think he was speeding but the roads were so empty and he was so focused on everything he needed to get done that his speed might've gotten away from him. Confident that the misunderstanding would be cleared up quickly, Tony pulled onto the shoulder of the road and stopped the car before reaching for his creds.
"Get out of the car!"
Tony froze at the odd command. Why was he being ordered out of the car? And that wasn't even how officers ordered someone out of car. They told you exactly how to roll the window down, where to toss your keys, how to reach through the open window to open the door and which way to face when you got out. It was all about controlling the perp and the situation to keep everyone safe.
The order came again but this time it was accompanied by his door being flung open and two sets of hands ripping him out of the car.
"What the hell?" Tony demanded as he was forcefully shoved up against the side of the car while handcuffs were tightened around his wrists.
"Shut up, DiNozzo," the voice behind him commanded as he was stripped of his weapon and his pockets were emptied.
The fact that the person behind him knew his name completely changed Tony's perspective about the situation. This wasn't a civilian impersonating a police officer. This was personal. He tried to put a face with the familiar voice but it wasn't until he was turned around to face the two men and shoved against the car again that Tony began to realize just how much trouble he was in.
"What the hell is this, Danny?" Tony demanded, staring angrily at his former partner. He ignored Calhoun, Danny's new partner, completely.
"I said shut up," was Danny's only response.
Calhoun slipped in behind the wheel of the NCIS sedan Tony had been driving while Danny manhandled Tony into the back of the unmarked Baltimore PD car he and his partner had driven up in.
"I know you don't give a shit about me, Danny, but there's evidence from a murder in that car."
"I said shut up!" Danny demanded again, growing even angrier.
"Tampering with evidence is a crime. What the hell happened to you, Danny?"
"What the hell happened to you, Tony?" Danny countered angrily.
"Nothing. I'm still the same Tony you were partnered with for the last two years."
"I said shut up!" Danny yelled again. "That Tony was a lie! You lied to me, you lied to everyone!"
"What are you talking about? Is this because of what my dad said?"
"I said shut up!" The veins in Danny's neck were bulging and his face reddened as his anger peaked. Tony wondered if the man might actually explode from the pent up anger.
Tony wasn't sure if he felt more angry or hurt as he rode along in the back of the unmarked car, following the sedan full of the evidence that he was responsible for getting back to the Navy Yard. The chain of custody had probably already been interrupted. Calhoun may have been a cop but whatever he and Danny were up to, Tony doubted it was sanctioned. Any defense attorney who had a degree from an accredited law school would have a field day with that.
Any hope of possibly salvaging the evidence was lost when they reached the Potomac River. Tony watched in horror as Calhoun pulled it up to the riverbank, got out and pushed the sedan into the water before getting into the unmarked police car.
"Alright, let's go," Calhoun said buckling his seatbelt as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Tony shifted slightly in the backseat, trying to get comfortable but the handcuffs, already too tight, only dug into his wrists more and his back was beginning to ache as he attempted to brace himself for each turn while having his hands between his body and the seat. He still didn't know what was going on but whatever it was, it wasn't good. As the minutes passed, the reality of his situation was becoming more and more clear. He'd be lucky if he survived the night.
Jethro carefully backed the M.E. van into the parking garage that led directly to the autopsy suite, ignoring the incessant beeping as he did so. Ducky wrapped up his story just in time to thank his longtime friend before they both exited the van. Jethro grunted in reply, not even registering the end of the umpteenth story he'd heard during the drive in favor of a show of appreciation. His mind had drifted to his evening with Tony. The man was acting strange but he seemed to be back to his normal self, at least Jethro hoped so.
Maybe Tony needed some space. Maybe he needed his own place after all. They hadn't really talked about living arrangements. There was no point in Tony getting an apartment before he went to FLETC. Jethro had extended the invitation to his place and Tony had accepted and that had been that. At least until earlier that evening. He'd have to figure all that out later, though. It was time to refocus on the case.
He watched for a moment as Ducky maneuvered the body effortlessly, preparing to remove it from the van. "Need help, Duck?"
"I do believe I've got it, Jethro, but thank you," Ducky replied cheerfully.
"You need an assistant, Duck," Jethro informed the man as he grabbed the box with the remaining evidence in it out of the back of the van. "Call when you've got something."
"I always do, Jethro."
Jethro was greeted by a wall of noise as soon as the elevator doors opened one floor up. Without even flinching, he walked straight back to Abby's office, silenced the noise that she seemed to think was music then returned to the lab where she was looking mildly offended.
"Here's the rest of the evidence," he said, producing the clipboard with the evidence transfer paperwork for his scientist to sign. "Have you made any progress on the stuff Tony dropped off?"
The playful look of annoyance turned to one of confusion. "What stuff?" Abby asked as she signed the paperwork. "I haven't seen Tony all night."
"I sent him back here about an hour ago," Jethro countered, glancing at his watch. What did she mean Tony hadn't been by all night? That wasn't possible.
"Maybe he got lost," Abby suggested with a shrug.
Jethro pulled out his cellphone and hit the speed dial that would connect him to Tony. Seconds later he was listening to Tony's voicemail message informing him 'he knew what to do' and to 'wait for the beep'. "Straight to voicemail," he announced.
"Clearly he hasn't learned rule number three yet," Abby said.
Jethro grunted something incomprehensible under his breath as he made his exit, leaving Abby with the same instructions he'd left Ducky with.
Tony glanced at the clock on the dashboard as the car pulled to a stop in Baltimore PD's prisoner intake garage. Midnight. He wondered if Jethro noticed he was missing yet. Would the man come for him when he realized he'd been arrested or would he think the worst and write him off? Would Jethro even care after he'd run out of the man's house earlier that evening with no explanation at all?
"Get out."
The voice was sharp and demanding and had Tony's anger growing even more. If he hadn't been in handcuffs, his hands would've been around Danny's neck, consequences be damned.
He eased himself out of the backseat without very much grace and was led into the building and through a series of familiar hallways. When he tried to turn towards intake, he was jerked backwards and pointed in the opposite direction then pushed to get him walking again.
Straight towards the holding cells. They'd bypassed booking completely. He hadn't been fingerprinted, photographed or processed. Hell, he hadn't even been read his rights or charged with a crime, not that he'd committed a crime. His anxiety started growing as the reality of his situation began to sink in even more. Even if Jethro did attempt to look for him, he wouldn't show up in the system. He was simply gone.
The eerily empty hallways gave way to the holding cells, also empty. Tony couldn't remember the last time there hadn't been at least one lowlife prisoner keeping the guard company. He knew instantly that something wasn't right. Only half the lights in the area were on, leaving the room dim and making it feel even more eerie.
After entering the cell, Tony turned his back to his former partner and offered the man his hands, expecting the handcuffs to be removed but instead of removing the handcuffs, Danny slammed the butt of his service weapon into the back of Tony's head, dropping him to the floor instantly.
"What the hell, Danny?!" Tony demanded angrily. He jerked over onto his back, not wanting to leave himself unprotected but quickly realized that was a mistake. He pulled against the cuffs, desperately trying to free himself but only sending shooting pains out from his shoulder as the unforgiving metal of the cuffs cut into his wrists.
"Get up," Danny spat.
Tony flopped around on the floor helplessly, trying to get his feet under him so he could propel his body upwards with his hands still behind his back but he couldn't manage it until Danny grabbed him behind the elbow and jerked him up with a sharp, forceful movement. Tony winced at the pain but remained silent until a fist landed in his eye.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Tony demanded.
In response, the same fist cut across Tony's mouth, slicing the inside of his lip on his teeth and almost immediately filling his mouth with blood. Tony's only consolation was the cut to Danny's knuckles from grazing his teeth. He only hoped all the bacteria in his mouth would cause some sort of horrible infection that would result in his attacker losing a finger or two or maybe even an entire hand.
With no way to prepare for his former partner's next advance, Tony attempted to move away from his tormentor but Danny grabbed onto his hoodie and forced him backwards until the unforgiving brick wall behind them put an abrupt stop to their movement and caused a grunt to escape from Tony's mouth which took the air from his lungs along with it. He didn't have time to catch his breath before a fist landed in his gut, making it even more difficult to breathe.
Tony's anxiety grew to a level he'd never before experienced as Danny's unrelenting assault continued. There was no doubt in his mind that Danny was trying to kill him and he couldn't even attempt to talk some sense into the man because he couldn't breathe. Maybe it wouldn't matter if Jethro bothered to look for him or not. At the rate Danny was going, it would be too late by the time Jethro got there.