When 0300 rolled around, Tony, Trista and Booth were wide-awake and geared up for action. Tony had taken the opportunity to re-bandage his arm before getting some sleep. He trusted Gibbs to keep an eye on his team, and he was actually able to manage a solid five hours before waking.

Booth was still watching him when he thought Tony wasn't looking, his normally cheerful disposition hidden under suspicious glances and a dark frown. It had gotten to the point where Trista was starting to notice that something was going on, which prompted Tony to pull Booth into the bathroom as they were getting ready.

"What's the problem, Seeley?" He purposely used the FBI agent's first name, chiefly because he knew it pissed him off.

"You're hiding something."

"Maybe. What about you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Tony shoved him back against the wall. "I gave that note to you. It was clearly not addressed to Black, so mind telling me how he got involved?"

Booth looked confused. "That's what you're so pissed about? He's in charge, Tony, did you expect me to not tell him? Hell, you're the one who brought me into this whole business. You convinced me that Black was legit. So don't blame me for something I had no control over."

Tony stepped back, letting Booth go. "All right. I'm sorry. So, what's the problem you have with me?"

"I told you, I know you're hiding something about this mission. I don't like being kept out of the loop."

Tony let his gaze drift toward the door to the bedroom where Trista was waiting. "I know, but that's the way things have to be right now." He held up a hand to forestall Booth's protestation. "Just trust me. Focus on the objective. Hopefully, I'm just being overly paranoid."

Booth looked skeptical, but he just shrugged. "Our lives are way too complicated. You know that, right? We need a vacation."

Tony laughed as he left the bathroom. "Yeah, tell that to my boss. He'd smack me just for suggesting it."

Trista came up then and handed the two men their bulletproof vests. "If you boys are ready…?"

Tony checked his watch. 0315. "Let's go."

xXxXx

"DiNozzo, I don't know how you get me involved in these things," Gibbs muttered quietly as he trained his binoculars on the warehouse opposite the one he was currently occupying. The area was quiet, though there were lights in one corner of the building. On an earlier recon, Gibbs had been able to confirm four hostiles. Unfortunately, said bad guys had enough guns to arm the Michigan militia.

Gibbs' attention was drawn away from the building to a dark sedan pulling up three buildings down. "That'll be Tony." Sure enough, three figures emerged and fanned out, silently melting into the shadows.

Gibbs still wasn't sure how he felt about all of this. He'd seen firsthand just how adept DiNozzo could be at undercover work, and the kid definitely had razor-sharp (if a little unorthodox) investigative skills. But working for a secret organization? For the past nine years?

Inconceivable.

He rolled his eyes as he remembered DiNozzo's litany the last time someone had used that word in his presence.

"It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable." He'd actually done the entire scene in the boat, but Gibbs had allowed it because it annoyed the suspect enough that he'd started talking just to get DiNozzo to shut up. Which was the point.

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." That in an awful Spanish accent followed by a soliloquy on the virtues of Mandy Patinkin.

"You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!"

The last one had earned DiNozzo a Gibbs-slap, even though that was one of a few movies Gibbs had actually enjoyed.

But back to the problem at hand. The scenario shouldn't have been all that difficult for Gibbs to imagine. He knew talent when he saw it, and DiNozzo certainly fit the bill.

As he watched Tony take up position by one of the doors, he suddenly recognized the emotion he'd been trying to ignore.

He was jealous!

Tony was his agent, and while he was proud of the long line of agencies that had tried to recruit DiNozzo away from him, he was even more proud of the fact that Tony hadn't even considered leaving NCIS. His usual two-year limit had come and gone with little fanfare, and he now held the record for longest stay on Gibbs' team.

Tony was already good at his job when Gibbs recruited him, but he'd progressed by leaps and bounds under Gibbs' tutelage. Even if they never talked about it, Gibbs knew Tony saw him as a mentor, even a father-figure, while Tony played the role of eldest son in their dysfunctional family.

And now Gibbs was confronted by the reality that Tony already had that. However upset Tony had been with Black over his manipulation of the situation, he had simply accepted it. Tony had been part of this agency thing for nine years. That was a level of commitment that Gibbs had hoped was reserved for NCIS. For him.

It was completely ridiculous, of course. Tony wasn't his child, and he had every right to keep something like this a secret. It did not mean that he held any less respect for Gibbs.

Right.

Gibbs checked his watch and saw that it was getting close to go-time. He slid away from the window he'd been spying from, gathered his gear and headed down to ground level. He stopped just inside the exit, his ear tuned to the radio waiting for the order to execute.

With any luck, Gibbs wouldn't actually have to do anything. If everything went according to plan, the others would never know he'd been there. The likelihood of that, however, was extremely small. He was there in case something went horribly wrong, and inevitably, trouble followed DiNozzo like bees to honey.

"All teams, standby to execute."

White's voice broke through his reverie, and he drew his weapon, all the while watching Tony in the shadows across the way. Somewhere out there, the other two agents would be waiting as well.

"3, 2, 1, execute. Execute."

Gibbs pulled open the door, ducking as he moved quickly to the spot Tony had vacated at White's order. He peeked in the door to the warehouse. Seeing nothing, he entered quietly, keeping his Sig up as he swept left and right, eyes open for hostiles. Tony would have already cleared the area, but there was no harm in being cautious.

He heard shots ahead, short bursts from a machine gun and the steady staccato of a 9mm. He quickened his pace, barely seeing the body he stepped over as he ran down the hall, and finally came upon an open area where all the action seemed to be taking place. Tony was ducked behind a crate a few yards to his left, firing on the position of the machine gunner. Gibbs could see Booth even further away, one man dead at his feet as he also aimed for the hostile.

Trista, however, was nowhere to be seen, and this was cause for concern. He scanned the area again while he mentally ran through his options. If he tried for a shot on the machine gun, his element of surprise would be gone. Waiting, however, accomplished nothing.

His decision made, Gibbs was just about to pop up when another shot rang out, this time from above. His eyes were drawn to the catwalk ten feet overhead where he saw Trista Kraven locked in a struggle with a man he recognized as Thomas Lincoln. They were grappling for a gun, each trying to land a stunning blow to gain the upper hand.

The fight had drawn Tony's attention as well, and when he turned to see what was going on, his right side was exposed. The hostile he'd been firing at picked that exact moment to pop out of his hiding place, spraying Tony's position with bullets. Gibbs shouted a warning, but it was lost in the cacophony of noise, and he could only watch in horror as Tony was struck twice before collapsing.

xXxXx

The plan had worked perfectly. As soon as White's order had come through, Tony had burst silently into the building, gun at the ready. His breathing was steady, his eyes moving constantly to take in his surroundings. Booth would be coming from the opposite side of the building, while Trista would be moving in on a third side to form a triangle.

A door creaked ahead to his left and he paused, ducking into a shadow. A boot crossed the threshold, and Tony looked up to see that it belonged to a small, mouse-ish man smoking a cigarette. He began to walk away from Tony's position, and Tony rose to follow. When the man swore softly and turned, there was no chance to hide, so Tony fired twice, striking the surprised man high in the chest and throwing him backwards. Tony paused only long enough to confirm that the man was dead before moving on, faster now that he'd most likely been heard.

He was greeted by machine gun fire when he entered the large open area, and he quickly ducked behind a crate, seeing Booth off to his left as he put a bullet in the head of another hostile. He looked across the room, but there was no sign of Trista. If she had been in position, she could have taken down the guy with the machine gun. Unless, of course, he'd already taken care of her. It was better not to think like that, though the alternative wasn't much better.

Tony hadn't wanted to believe Trista was the spy, but the pieces had fallen into place with far too much ease. She had always been the most reserved of the group, with very clearly defined opinions. She didn't socialize with the others, and the only members of the organization that she'd formed a connection to had been Kyle and Thomas Lincoln.

Kyle, of course, was dead, and Lincoln – well, he had been suspected of being the one who had killed him. There was no proof of this, of course, and Lincoln had sworn to Black that he'd had nothing to do with it, but there were inconsistencies in his story. Trista had backed Lincoln, but when he left, declaring he wanted nothing more to do with the Agency, she had stayed.

Tony had been young then, and just a little too trusting still. He'd wanted to believe Lincoln, believe that Black couldn't have been so wrong in asking the man to join them. He had supported Black's decision to let Lincoln go. After that, Trista had withdrawn even further, still active in the Agency, but always on her own terms.

All of this was running through his head even as he was firing on the hostile, so it was no surprise that he was more than a little distracted when the shot rang out above him. He could hear Trista's voice, and when he turned and saw Lincoln there as well, he forgot everything else and stood up.

The last thing he saw as he hit the floor was Gibbs sprinting toward him as he took out machine-gun guy.

oNCISo