for some reason this is my favourite chapter so far - even though not a lot happens! Hope you enjoy and please keep reviewing - you all make it so much easier to write :)
Tony arrived at the airport over an hour before his scheduled flight. His suitcase, which was filled without much thought, was pulled along on wheels. It clattered loudly as he dragged it up a flight of stairs and then ran smoothly along the linoleum floor to the meeting room.
Inside, Fornell was waiting quietly. He stood at the end of a room normally used by the airport staff but now commandeered by the FBI. He was turned away looking through a full length window, his vision obscured by the torrential rain. Fornell turned his head slowly towards Tony and stared.
"Do you know what you have to do?" He asked Tony. Tony let go of his suitcase handle and placed his jacket over the top before walking over to where Fornell stood.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't" Tony said plainly, bored by Fornell's dramatics. This wasn't just an undercover mission for Tony and it wasn't his first undercover assignment either. Fornell slipped a hand into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a cell phone. He held it out for Tony. "I have a cell phone," Tony said.
"It's not just a cell phone," Fornell told him. Tony took the phone off him.
"Cool, my very own James Bond phone," Tony slipped easily into his more easy-going yet irritating persona. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fornell rolling his eyes. Tony looked up, giving Fornell a chance to explain everything.
"It has an untraceable connection to us; anybody looking for something won't find anything"
"What, no poisonous darts that shoot out?"
Fornell ignored the comment and continued "It also has a tracker inside so we will always know where you are even when it's switched off, always," Fornell stressed "Always keep that phone with you. Use the camera and the sound recorder to gather as much intel as you can."
"I know the drill," Tony reminded him as his slipped the cell phone into the pocket of his jeans.
"Good."
"Not going to wish me luck?" Tony asked.
"Don't get yourself killed DiNozzo, Gibbs will take it personally," Fornell replied, taking no notice of Tony's question.
"Don't need luck anyway," Tony said boldly. He turned back to his suitcase and grabbed the plastic handle tightly in his hand. As he was about to exit, Fornell called to him.
"We're speed dial two on that phone of yours,"
Tony frowned. "Who's speed dial one?"
Fornell smiled for the first time and turned back to the window. "Gibbs," He answered. Tony matched his smile as he walked back down the corridor and down the steps, this time turning left towards check in.
In wasn't long before Tony had journeyed passed check-in and the metal detectors, spent half an hour in a bar in the departure lounge to develop some Dutch courage and made his way to the departure gate. He was led to his seat by a flight attendant who's attractiveness hadn't gone unnoticed by Tony. He smiled widely at the attendant who reciprocated with a flirty smile and a girly giggle. As she walked away Tony turned back to check her out from behind.
"Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen," The captains voice spoke from the PA. "Welcome to Southwest Airlines. It shouldn't take us too long to reach Long Island MacArthur Airport but until we do I ask that all electrical equipment including cell phones be switched off. The flight attendants are available for any queries you might have, just press the button above your head and they will assist you as best they can. Please pay attention to the following safety demonstration and I hope you have an enjoyable flight," Tony spent the safety demonstration unashamedly admiring the flight attendants legs.
As the plane began to take off Tony slipped off his shoes and sunk further into his seat. Once he was comfortable, he dipped into his rucksack for the file the FBI had given him the day before. Tony had quickly re-named it "Everything he needed to know about his own father but was afraid to ask," Inside with a recent photo and bio information, none of which Tony needed. He was pulled from his reading by a nearby voice.
"Hey," Tony looked up and to his left, locking eyes with a middle-aged man. Sweat droplets were visible on the bald man's head and layers of the man's fat rippled over onto Tony's side of the seats. Tony suppressed the urge to grimace.
"Hi," Tony replied, snapping the file shut.
"What are you heading to Long Island for?" He asked.
Tony smiled "My father lives out there, I'm hoping he'll get me a job at his company," Tony lied, he wasn't about to tell the man he was on an undercover assignment for the FBI to catch his own father selling weapons to Al-Qaeda.
"Ah," The man nodded "What kind of business does your old man run?"
Tony cleared his throat "Shipping" he said "Electricals mostly, stocks and shares, oil, insurance, investments, telecommunications," Tony watched as the man's eyes widened as the list grew.
"And you fly economy?" He asked incredulously. Tony smirked in response but said nothing further. The man took the hint and began reading a book. Tony went back to the file and began memorizing every word on the pages. It was something to keep his mind off seeing his father for the first time in ten years. He had no idea how Anthony DiNozzo Sr was going to react to his homecoming.
It's easier to infiltrate a gang or a company when you're a stranger to them. When you're family, Tony wondered, There's so much more history to keep you from doing your job. Tony's father had never really trusted him, so how was he going to convince his father he was trust-worthy enough to let him on his criminal activities? He couldn't fast talk his way back into his father's life, he'd never appreciated Tony's smart mouth. The only way to worm his way back in was to be the son his father always wanted.
Tony stepped out of the taxi and onto hard concrete. He looked up at the big house, protected by a seven foot stone wall and cast-iron gates. The taxi driver deposited his suitcase by his feet and in return Tony handed him forty dollars.
It wasn't hard to get a maid over the intercom to open the gates for him. The foreign woman opened them the minute she heard his surname. He walked down the driveway feeling more nervous the nearer he got to the house. He was filled with trepidation as he stepped up onto the porch and pressed the bell. The door was opened by Anthony DiNozzo Sr. himself, his normally stoic face was replaced by one of shock.
"Hi dad."