Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from NCIS, because if I did I would NOT have put Gibbs through all of that in Hiatus! Ahem, no infringement intended. :P

A/N: I know what Gibbs says, that apologizing is a sign of weakness, but I really am sorry for not updating Grace sooner. I know there are people out there who have probably given up on me, but for those who haven't, thanks. I have a few other chapters that are almost ready, so I'll be posting them one a day for the next few days.R&R

Warnings: Rating for some bad language.

Chapter 17

"Tell me what you want and maybe we could come to an arrangement." Tony said quietly, pushing himself up against the wrought iron walls. He hadn't heard or seen his captor in a while, but he sensed that he was still there, biding his time.

He heard the scrape of a wooden chair along the floor, then tapping as the soles of his captor's shoes clicked along the floor. Tony could see the silhouette of the man on the wall opposite the iron door.

"What is it you folks say? Oh, 'we don't negotiate with terrorists'." He cackled, his strange laugh echoing throughout the 2x2 cell.

"You're a terrorist?" Tony challenged the man, finding it strange that someone would actually call themselves a terrorist. The man's deranged, Tony decided.

He laughed, "Yeah, you'd like me to say that, wouldn't you? Because you think you're gonna get out of here, go back to your NCIS buddies and tell them you got a confession outta me. Well, you're dreaming, because I ain't a terrorist, and you ain't gonna get outta here."

"Who are you?" Tony asked, but got no response from him except for a laugh. This was all a game to him; he wanted to see Tony suffer. The silhouette moved away from the door for a few moments, then reappeared. He shoved a dusty photograph through the bars in the door, the picture falling to the ground near where Tony was sitting, up against the wall. Tony looked at the photo, then back up to his captor.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Have a look at it." He told Tony, who shifted over just enough to reach the photo with his good arm. It was the photo of a little girl, about five or six years old. She had light blonde-brown hair that hung loose around her shoulders and bright blue eyes that shone with happiness as she laughed. She was sitting on a swing at a playground, kicking her legs as she swung higher and higher on the swing, the moment captured in absolute precision in the photo.

Tony held the photo up, "Who is she?" he asked the man, but got no response.

He pushed another photo through the bars, it handing near where the other one had landed. Tony picked this one up too, it was a photo of the same little girl but this time she was accompanied by another little girl. He knew her in an instant, that same little girl with the curly hair that was so dark you could almost call it black, and the dark eyes. It was Grace. He'd know her anywhere. She looked different though, younger, but that wasn't all – she was smiling, her dark eyes, instead of looking sad and sunken, were bright and inquisitive, she looked happy for the first time.

Suddenly Tony understood it all. "You're Shane Rothman."

There was stunned silence, then a bang against the wrought iron door. Tony jumped, not expecting the sudden bang. "How'd you know that? He asked, then it dawned on him, "Rachel Miller. You've been talking to her, haven't you? That bitch!"

The door flung open to reveal Shane Rothman standing in the doorway. He was around the same height as Tony, but with fair hair that looked like he never bothered to do anything with it. He was wearing tattered jeans and sneakers with holes in them, and a dark sweater that looked like the only new thing he owned. Tony remembered what Rachel said about Grace's father and mother, that they were both heroin addicts and were more concerned about where their next hit was coming from than what their daughter was doing through.

Rothman was holding Tony's loaded 9mm Sig in his right hand. He pointed it at Tony, the safety still in the locked position. Tony didn't react, sitting unnerved against the wall, gripping his upper left arm with his right hand where the flow of blood had ceased, but it still burned from the deep wound in his arm and the scalding from being shot at point blank.

"And Grace is your daughter." Tony finished, feeling a surge of anger rush through him. This was the man who contributed to Grace's pain, her suffering.

"That's right. And the other girl was her best friend."

Tony nodded, "Ebony Miller. Six years old. Murdered."

Shane's eyes clouded over, "And you reckon it was me. You folks at NCIS. You think I killed an innocent little girl."

"Did you?" Tony asked, wanting to hear this man's response for himself even though his gut was telling him he already knew that answer.

"I ain't admitting to anything, and especially not to that!" He shouted, waving the Sig dangerously close to Tony's head. Tony knew the best way to get out of this alive was not to bait him any more than he had to, it was like waving a red rag in front of a bull, the more you provoked the angrier it got.

"And what about Kate? How do you know her?" Tony asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

"Alright," Shane said, sliding down the wall so he was leaning against it, near the door. The door was only open slightly, and Tony knew that there was no way he'd be able to dash past Rothman and push open the door to freedom. He didn't know what was outside the room; whether Rothman was smart enough to have the place bolted down he was yet to find out. Plus the fact that he was holding a loaded pistol didn't exactly instill Tony with confidence.

Shane was silent for a while, as if composing his thoughts, then he finally spoke when Tony was beginning to think that's all he was going to say.

"You ain't getting out of here, so I don't see the harm in telling you a little about what's been happening, especially since you seem so interested," he grinned maliciously, showing his stained teeth, "That little girl, Ebony, was friends with my Gracie. She was always over at me and my wife's apartment, playing with Gracie. I didn't mind until the kid's dad turned up, telling his kid that she had to come home, that she wasn't to play with Gracie anymore. My wife didn't think much of it, but I was to find out later that Ebony's dad, Richard's his name, had gone to the cops sayin' that I'd been hurting his kid."

He paused, looking Tony straight in the eyes as if he was waiting for him to ask, "Well, did you?" Tony kept quiet, deciding the best avenue would be to bide his time until help arrived. He knew that right now Ziva would have called Gibbs and he would have used all avenues to track down Tony.

Oh my god, he thought, Ziva! He didn't know what had happened to her, had she gotten out before Rothman arrived? And what about Grace? Tony was sure that Rothman had come for his daughter, but he had been asking Tony where she was, so he obviously hadn't found her.

Shane continued, "You're wrong," he said, answering the question which he expected Tony to ask, but didn't, "I never did nothin' to that little girl. But that wasn't enough for the cops, they'd interrogated me, but since there was no evidence they had to let me go. I'd only been free for six days when they showed up at my apartment again, telling me that they wanted to take me down to the station for questioning, that I was a suspect in that little girl's disappearance! They held me for four days, interrogating me but they got nothing, then I was handed over to NCIS." He gestured towards Tony, glaring for a moment before continuing.

"The kid had gone missing, she'd been snatched in the playground, the police said. But Ebony's dad is a marine, and since the cops had looked for the kid for a few days and found nothing, Richard Miller demanded that NCIS handle it. Two weeks after she'd disappeared they found her body. NCIS thought I did it, I was their only suspect."

Tony frowned, "Is that why you're holding me? You think that by taking me, and what… you're going to call for a ransom? If you're not cleared then you'll kill me?"

Rothman laughed, "You're not as smart as I gave you credit for! You seriously think that's why I'm doing this? To clear my own name?" Tony remained silent, waiting for him to talk again. He hoped that by asking him that question, provoking him just enough, that he'd confess to everything. It seemed to be working so far.

"No, you see, that's where you're wrong. I don't need to clear my own name, all I want is my daughter back. You feds took her away from me and I want her back." He said in a quieter tone, his teeth clenched together in anger.

Shane stood up, pointing the gun at Tony's head once again, "Now I'm tired of these games. You tell me where my Gracie is or I'll put a bullet though your skull! Now tell me!"

He released the safety on the Sig and pressed the gun harder into Tony's temple, wrapping his index finger around the trigger.

"Tell me!"

Tony turned his head to look at Rothman, "I'm not telling you anything."

He pulled the trigger.

R&R! xxoo