oNCISo

I don't know what's worse, Tony thought as he sat above the small diner, looking out the window. Getting in trouble for making Gibbs come and save me, or getting in trouble for not telling him about MJ.

Tony grimaced, and took a sip of his coffee. It wasn't really a difficult choice. Gibbs always had his six, but he was going to kill Tony for keeping something like this a secret.

Won't be long now. Tony glanced at the clock: 1906. Or, as Tony liked to call it, 7:06 pm in normal-people time.

Sure enough, eight minutes later, he spotted the silver-haired agent walking down the street. He watched him enter the diner, then waited to make sure he hadn't been followed. He took the stairs slowly, working to mask the turmoil he felt.

He spotted Gibbs in one of the booths. He was facing the door, so it was relatively easy to sneak up behind him.

"I'm impressed, Gibbs. And here I thought you never paid attention to my movie references."

Gibbs didn't even flinch. "You practically worship at the altar of Levinson, DiNozzo. I wouldn't be much of an investigator if something didn't sink in after the fiftieth time."

"You gotta admit…the whole Baltimore trilogy was frickin' awesome," Tony affirmed.

"The way you jumped at my job offer, you'd think you hated this place."

Tony sobered instantly. Gibbs wasn't playing fair, and he knew it. "Are we really going to do this right now?"

Gibbs turned to face him. "You should have told me."

"Didn't think I'd be at NCIS this long." Tony didn't bother pretending he didn't know what Gibbs was talking about. He slid into the booth. "Besides, it's against the rules."

"Then why am I here now?"

"I needed someone who knew the area."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "DiNozzo, you've got the FBI, NSA, MI-6, Secret Service, CIA and probably God himself backing you up! You need a better reason than that."

"You told me to call."

The quiet explanation silenced Gibbs for a moment. Tony played with the napkin dispenser while he waited for his boss to speak.

"You didn't think I'd come."

Tony shrugged. "I was pretty sure you would. You're not exactly an easy man to figure out, though. And after Jeanne… Anyway, I wasn't sure Orange-"

"Can we quit with the damn colors?" Gibbs cut in gruffly.

Tony scowled at him. "I tell you their names, you're in too deep."

"DiNozzo. You brought me in. Just talk."

Tony had the grace to look faintly ashamed, but he just continued. "Fine. I wasn't sure Booth would get the note to you."

"Oh, he got it to me alright. But not before I had to go through a dog and pony show from your precious Agency."

"I should have known Black would try to take over. I assume he wanted to come with you."

"Practically begged. Set one of his dogs on me, but I shook him off a while ago. What's Black's game?"

"He's been looking for an opportunity to get you involved with the Agency. He asked me last year, but I didn't want to get you involved. But I guess I did that, anyway. He knew you'd come if I got into trouble." Tony sighed. "I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know where else to go."

Gibbs nodded, and then abruptly pounded a fist into the counter, making the waitress jump a little as she passed. "Dammit, Tony! I don't like being played. What the hell is going on?"

"I can't tell you-"

Gibbs grabbed Tony by the arm, pulling him closer. "I didn't come here to get the runaround, DiNozzo!"

Tony breathed in sharply, trying to hide the grimace of pain at Gibbs' grip. He wrenched his arm away. "You didn't let me finish, Gibbs! I was saying that I can't tell you everything here! You're good, but so is Black. I'd like to be sure he's not looking over my shoulder." He stood, angrily throwing down a few bills.

Gibbs stood as well, feeling slightly ashamed. He knew he was being a bastard, but he was getting tired of not knowing the score.

He caught a flash of red, and he grabbed Tony's arm again, this time gripping him by the wrist. There was a growing spot of red where he'd been holding the man's bicep. His eyes quickly found Tony's, holding them as he asked the silent question.

Tony looked away. "I'll explain everything, Boss. But can we get out of here first?"

xXxXx

52 hours earlier

Tony climbed out of the dark sedan, slipping on his shades as he surveyed the building before him. The drive from New York had been long enough that he should have been able to snag a few hours of sleep, but he and Booth had spent the time going over various scenarios of what they might find. As a consequence, Tony was feeling the strain.

"This place is a dump," Booth commented as they walked in.

"Probably part of his cover. Nobody cares what goes on." Tony hit the button for the fourth floor, and a few minutes later they had picked the lock of room 427, going in with guns drawn.

The apartment was a mess. The floor was littered with books, papers and various bits of furniture, and there were several fist-sized holes dotting the walls. Tony checked the rooms in the back before joining Booth in the living room.

"Guess we're not the only ones looking for him," Booth remarked dryly.

Tony glanced around. "I don't think all of it was done by Lincoln and the others."

Booth frowned. "What do you mean? Blue did this himself?"

"At least some of it. He knew he was in trouble," Tony replied. He sifted through a pile of trash in the corner, picking up a pizza box. "He got the message off to Black and then tossed the place. Got rid of anything that might point to where he would go."

"So how do we find him?"

"Fortunately, we know him slightly better than Lincoln. He left us a clue." Tony smiled triumphantly, holding up a flyer for a Thai restaurant he'd found stuck to the bottom of the pizza box.

"That's a clue?" Booth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He knew I'd be here," Tony said, poking around the room further. "We've come up with a few different methods for passing messages." He stopped by the window and glanced out.

"A flyer in a pile of trash?"

Tony didn't reply. When he'd glanced out the window, he'd caught sight of a dark car in the alley. The car didn't worry him as much as the men getting out of it, though. "We've got trouble."

Booth joined him at the window and Tony pointed at the lead man.

"Oh, this is not good." Booth swore softly. "What the hell is Lincoln doing here?"

"They must have been watching the place and saw us come in." Tony pulled his gun again. "Listen, we need to split up. You take the car," he said.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to find Blue." Tony folded the flyer and put it into his pocket. "Call Black, tell him what's going on. Good luck." He waited for Booth's reluctant nod, and then checked the hallway. They went in opposite directions, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Tony took them three at a time, jumping the last few steps as he reached the first floor.

Lincoln and his friends were waiting in the lobby. They were trying to be inconspicuous as they watched for their prey. Tony waited a few seconds and then burst out the door, heading for the back alley. He heard the men shouting as he saw Booth running out the front.

He had just reached the end of the alley when he heard three shots, and a sharp pain lanced through his arm. He grabbed at it and saw blood, but he kept running. He didn't stop until he was several blocks away. He ducked into an abandoned building, trying to catch his breath.

He pulled off his jacket with a grimace, swearing as his muscles were stretched. It was a through-and-through, still bleeding sluggishly. He sighed.

"Why is it always me? I swear, if Abby's playing with voodoo dolls again…" He pulled on his jacket and left the building, walking slowly so he could spot anyone following him. When he figured it was safe, he pulled the flyer he'd found at Hamid's place from his back pocket, and dialed the number with the disposable cell phone he used when he was with the Agency.

"Ban Thai."

"Yeah, I'm calling about an order placed for a Mr. Green."

There was a slight pause, and then a new voice came on the line. "You are Mr. Green?"

"I am. I believe Mr. Blue called ahead." Tony crossed his fingers, waiting for the reply.

"Very good. Your order will be ready in two hours. You'll need to pick it up."

"I understand. Thank you." Tony hung up. He had two hours to kill before meeting up with Blue. He thought about calling Booth, or even Black, but something stopped him. He hailed a cab, going first to a drugstore for supplies, then directing the cabbie to a small apartment he owned in the city. It was under a different name, and only two people knew about it. Both of them were currently out of the country.

When the time came, he walked to the Ban Thai restaurant, loitering across the street until he saw a dark-skinned man wearing a Yankees hat and jacket enter. He waited a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the street, and then crossed the street.

The restaurant was sparsely lit, and there were very few people inside. He gave the name Green to the hostess, who took him to the back of the restaurant. He sat in the booth, and looked over the menu, remaining conscious of what went on around him. He looked up as the man he'd followed slid into the booth across from him.

"I knew you'd figure it out."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You hate Thai food."

"Does it matter?"

"Guess not. What's all this about, Hamid?"

Hamid Sakhar pulled off his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his short black hair. He looked worn down.

"Can I trust you?"

Tony frowned. "What the hell kind of question is that? The whole Agency has been running around frantically trying to find you. I got shot, for God's sake!"

"Keep your voice down," Hamid said calmly. "We're in some deep shit, yeah, but take it easy." He made a face. "You got shot?"

"Lincoln was waiting at your place."

Hamid nodded. "They were there yesterday." He sighed. "Tony, we have got serious problems."

"Your message didn't say a whole heck of a lot."

"I know. I wasn't sure if I could trust the Agency with more."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Can we quit with the cryptic? Lay it out for me."

"I think there is a spy in the Agency."

"Bro, I don't know how to tell you this, but we got a lot of 'em. Including you."

"Just listen!" Hamid waited for Tony to quiet. "I think someone is passing on messages to Lincoln and the others."

Tony frowned. "We'll get to that. First, I want you to tell me what is going on. Why would you even take this job knowing Lincoln was involved? You know what he's like. He should have killed you the moment he saw you."

"Thanks a lot. Yes, I know him, so I knew how to play him. I played up to his ego, told him I had seen the light, knew I should have backed him up before. It would have worked, too, if my handler hadn't been dirty."

"There's another question. They knew you were a double agent from the start. Why did they let you in?"

"I can only assume it has something to do with Tom. Maybe he wanted to believe I was telling the truth. Maybe he's playing some other game," Hamid frowned. "Either way, I only knew I was in trouble when I went to meet my handler and nearly got blown up instead. I sent the message to Black, then got the hell out of Dodge."

"I'm assuming this spy you mentioned is the reason you didn't come in."

"I've been monitoring communications to and from Rashid, al-Hazdin and Lincoln since this started. Most of it was pretty standard chatter, but Lincoln's was more interesting. He was getting the Daily Report."

Tony sucked in a breath. The Daily Report was sent to all members of MJ by Mr. Black. He updated them on various threats, the whereabouts of other members and other crucial information. It was highly encrypted, only accessible by members of MJ, and not to be shared with anyone unless permission was granted. Lincoln wouldn't have it unless one of their own had given it to him. "Who?"

Hamid sighed. "I don't know. I have my suspicions, but until I can prove it, I can't trust anyone – except you."

Tony wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just nodded. "While I appreciate that, I feel compelled to point out that we have an even bigger problem. Those three cities you mentioned, for example?"

"Baltimore, St. Louis and Las Vegas. Rashid and al-Hazdin left the States two days ago, but they've got people in each city, ready and waiting. I know when and where it's all going down. We can stop this."

"But to stop it, we need to trust someone – a lot of someones," Tony pointed out. "We have to coordinate the strikes so they don't get wise to what is happening."

Hamid nodded. "That's why I brought you in. I'm tired, and I'm out of ideas."

"How much time do we have?" Tony asked.

"Four days."

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do."

xXxXx

Present

"We've spent the last two days working up a plan, but to make it work, we needed someone we could trust absolutely. I slipped Booth the note, and the rest is history. Now you know everything," Tony finished. He and Gibbs had been sitting in the park for the past hour while Tony explained everything.

"Everyone in the Agency knows about me now. How do we draw out this spy?"

"I wasn't counting on everyone knowing you were here. But we can still make it work."

Gibbs sat quietly, mulling everything over in his mind. This whole thing was crazy.

"DiNozzo, do you always have to make everything so complicated?"

Tony smiled. "It's part of my charm." He stood, stretching. "Come on. Hamid is waiting, and we have things to do."

oNCISo

AN: Tony's clue is the first line of the movie Avalon, by Barry Levinson. Levinson did a Baltimore trilogy, which is also where the diner comes in.