Sorry for the wait, people. I had a great vacation. And then my beta went on vacation (oh, the nerve.) Be glad I waited for her, though. Powerof3 has a great talent at catching me being lazy, and not letting me get away with it. This chapter is better for her help. And now, back to the story.

IIIII

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Tony slammed his fist onto the steering wheel of the car, the resulting honk echoing through the garage. Five hours of going over the hearse with a fine tooth comb and he was nowhere. The only hairs he'd found were black, and though he'd bagged them and sent them to the lab he was sure they'd come back as a match to Abby. Fingerprint powder had only revealed that all the hard surfaces had been wiped clean. The only thing that gave him any hope was that the ALS hadn't revealed any blood in the car. Frustrated, he got out of the car and walked around the back to go over the trunk again.

"There's nothing here," Ziva confirmed. "To spend more time down here would be like beating a cat after it's dead."

i A horse /i , Tony corrected mentally, but he didn't say anything out loud, simply nodded his head and unzipped his red coveralls. He stared at the hearse even as he entered the elevator; watching it until the closing of the doors blocked his view.

Gibbs was waiting for them when they got back to the squad room. He took one look at the two of them and knew that they'd come up empty. Grimacing, he motioned to the plastic bag on his desk. Tony's stomach rumbled when he smelled the spicy aroma of curry. It was almost midnight now and the half a sandwich he'd eaten for lunch was long since digested.

"I ordered Indian," Gibbs stated as he distributed the white cartons. "Make sure to save some for McGee. I don't have time to waste with any of your petty squabbles."

"Sure thing boss," Tony muttered as he dug through his desk drawer for a fork. Despite his hunger, he only toyed with the Tandoori Chicken. Leaning back in his chair, Tony made sure that Gibbs was gone before he closed his eyes. He needed to figure out what to do next.

II

"I thought you quit smoking." Jenny had checked the lab, Morgue, MTAC, and half a dozen other places before chancing upon Gibbs in the parking garage. He was pacing back and forth between the parked cars, smoke trailing from the cigarette in his hand.

"I did," Gibbs said as he took a drag and held the smoke in his lungs until it burned. "I've quit a couple of times since Paris. Usually it sticks. Today..." Gibbs shrugged. "There's a limit on how much coffee even I can drink. This seemed like a better alternative."

"Is it helping?" Jenny thought that watching Gibbs right now was like watching a lion in captivity.

"No." He took a few steps towards her, and extinguished his cigarette on the top of the trash can. "Abby'd be lecturing me right now. She calls cigarettes cancer sticks."

"We'll find her, Jethro," Jenny reassured. "Just like you found me last year."

"It isn't the same. Abby isn't a trained agent used to working in the field. She's a lab tech. She's supposed to be safe in the lab." Gibbs reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He lit one and inhaled deeply. "Besides wanting to hurt me, we don't know this bastard's motive. For all we know, he could have already..." He didn't finish the thought, because hearing the words out loud would make them that much closer to being true. Instead he tamped out the half spent cigarette and opened the door, leaving Jenny alone in the garage.

II

She was thirsty. Not the kind of thirsty she got when the Caf-Pow machine was empty and she had to drink water or coffee, but the kind when she got wrapped up in the wiring of a house and forgot to drink anything for hours. She also really, really had to pee. Abby wasn't sure which sensation was worse. She wiggled in the chair, feeling like an eight year old sitting in the back of the classroom and waiting for the bell to ring. Just when she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hold it anymore, she heard the low rumble of a car engine.

"I have to pee," she stated matter-of-factly the moment the door opened.

"In a minute." It was the same man from earlier, and she decided that was a good thing. If one person was doing everything, that had to mean he would be easier to catch. Didn't it?

"A minute's going to be too late. I don't know how long you've left me here, but I had a Caf-Pow for breakfast and..." The ropes that bound her to the chair were suddenly loosened. Abby tried to stand up but her legs were weak from so many hours in one position. A hand at her elbow steadied her and she was able to stand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Mr. X responded automatically. Abby was certain that she had heard his voice before; now she just had to figure out where.

He led her to the bathroom, and as he untied her wrists he admonished her not to remove the blindfold. The moment she heard the door click shut she tried to do so anyway, but found that the fabric was knotted too tightly. The best she could do was raise the material so she could see under the material slightly. It didn't take any more than that to realize that the bathroom was not going to be any use as an escape route. The lone window was too small for her to squeeze through, and the only door was the one she had come through.

When she finished relieving herself and washing her hands, Abby readjusted the blindfold. Carefully she moved it so that she could just barely see the floor, and hoped Mr. X wouldn't notice the difference. Weighing the risks, she decided to take the opportunity to stretch her muscles, knowing that she was probably facing a return to the chair. Her arms were joined in the middle of her back when a pounding on the door told her that the brief moment of semi-freedom was over.

"Judging from the fact that you've only said a dozen words, I have to assume that you're going for the strong and silent type. And that's cool. I mean, it never makes sense in those movies when the bad guy reveals his whole plan, because the good guy always uses that information against him." She wasn't sure exactly what she hoped to accomplish by talking to him, but once she opened her mouth she couldn't stop.

"I've been here for quite a while, though, and I'd really like to know why. You said it's not about ransom, or at least inferred that it wasn't. You know who I am, but I don't know you, which rules out a personal thing. With the whole bondage thing you could have been an ex, but you're not. So what am I doing here?"

"Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"

"All the time. My dad couldn't even hear me, with him being deaf and all, and he still..." i Dad. /i With sudden clarity, Abby realized where she knew her kidnapper's voice from.

II

"Report, McGee." Tony and Ziva were both standing at the edge of McGee's desk, and Gibbs hoped that was a good sign.

"I went through Abby's computer, but that was a dead end," McGee complied with Gibbs order. "Nothing on the hard drive that is out of the ordinary. I have to say I was impressed with the way she..."

"I don't care what you didn't find, or what techno whatsit she has. Not unless it's something that will help us find Abby." The frustration that they were all feeling was clear in Gibbs voice.

"Sorry boss," McGee apologized.

"Don't be sorry, be useful."

"Well, we..." McGee began.

"He means me. This was all my idea, I just let Timmy boy do the geek stuff," Tony remarked. Everyone ignored him.

"We decided to focus on the kidnapper. We are starting with the idea that whoever it is was arrested by you, or possibly one of your team. I've formulated a database using statistical variables to give certain factors different weights. Someone who was arrested for murder, for example, would--" McGee stopped as Gibbs cut him off.

"And this will tell me what, exactly?" Even on the best of days Gibbs couldn't take too much of the technical babble.

"Hopefully, it will give us a more manageable list of suspects."

"Then get to it," Gibbs said impatiently.

"Actually, I was just about to run it when you came in." McGee typed in a few commands, and words started flashing across the screen. They all watched in silence until the printer behind them started humming. "I programmed it to send the data to the printer, so we could get the list as soon as possible."

Tony, being the closest, snatched the first page out the moment it finished printing. Scanning the list, one name in particular popped out.

"Fifth name down, Boss." He passed the paper to Gibbs, who held it out at arms length and squinted.

"How the hell is he not in prison?" Gibbs yelled. It was one name on a list of fifty, but Gibbs' gut told him that they had found their man.