Title: Facing Forward
Author:CSIGeekFan
Rating:T (language)
Disclaimer:I don't own NCIS. If I owned NCIS… excuse me while I fantasize about what I'd do…
Author's Note: I'm always pleased to receive reviews. They let me know if you're enjoying the story. Thank you for taking the time to read it.
X X X
It never occurred to Tony that everyone around him, including Michaela and her crew, could be so deceptive on command. Christ, just two months ago the youngest deckhand, Angus, had lied to Tony's face about leaning his bicycle against the wet paint outside Ruthie's Café. The kid's cheeks had flamed red, followed by his ears, and the young man had damn near wept his confession. All within thirty seconds.
So the police chief watched with a great deal of pride and trepidation as the eighteen-year-old in question stood tall and guilelessly lied to a gun-toting bad guy.
When they'd pulled around the bend, with Tony, Gibbs and Ziva hidden behind railings and sporting handguns, the law enforcement officers had expected to have a slight advantage. After all, it was a classic setup – the bad guys never suspected a bunch of simple fishermen could pull one over on them. And holy hell, those "simple" fisher-folk played their parts to perfection; acting frightened and witless.
"I dunno anythin' about a package," Angus innocently mumbled. The police chief, hidden just out of sight, near the railing where Angus stood, smirked as the boy batted his innocent eyes, like a simpleton. "Let me ask the captain. Cappy knows everything. Me? I'm just a bait boy."
Bait boy, my ass, Tony mused. The kid had graduated with honors, and was working a few years to save up enough cash to go to college. But with his wild, curly blond locks, and big blue eyes, most never expected the wit or intelligence behind the baby face.
Glancing across the decking, Tony caught sight of Ziva (hidden barely out of sight), and watched her count three men on the invading vessel. From her perch, she could see across the short expanse separating the vessel.
As Angus turned to signal the captain and Mike descended the ladder, Tony caught each NCIS agents' gaze in turn. Just three steps. That was all Tony needed Angus to walk before the kid would be at the hatch leading below. Angus could easily dive through the opening; and Michaela could easily slide down from her perch above, slickly falling all the way to the galley below in a single motion.
Tony just needed the kid to move a little more – get the hell out of the line of fire. As it was, most other were already below-deck, waiting. The two seasoned fishermen remaining above-deck knew their role and would simply drop and roll around the corner and out of the line of fire once it all started. Right now, though, Tony needed Angus and Michaela to play their parts and move.
Angus's actions became stiff in a flash, and the police chief held his breath. Of course the kid would be terrified. Who wouldn't be? Adrenaline only propelled a man so far, and at the moment, Angus stood stock still, facing away from the smuggler not even twenty feet away in the other boat. Michaela must be terrified, too.
"Hurry the hell up," the smuggler shouted, providing the incentive for Angus to exhale a pent-up breath and finally take the last step toward the Captain. That's when she tilted her head and caught Tony's eyes. But she didn't look terrified. Captain Mike looked pissed.
And that was all he needed to see.
X X X
Later, when asked, Tony would probably say it was out of The Matrix, the way the trio of good guys fired on the trio of bad guys; how they vaulted up and over structures, spinning in mid air, dropping clips, reloading, and firing again. A navy blue down jacket just didn't compare to the long black trench Keanu Reeves wore. But the effect was the same.
A ballet of blood and bullets.
From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Ziva fire half a clip into one of the men on the nearby boat. Gibbs took one of them out with a single bullet, but took one himself near the wrist of his gun hand. Tony and Gibbs together hit the third man repeatedly in the chest.
"Hey boss," Tony began, shaking his head and grinning, as his former boss sloughed off his jacket to examine his wound. "Next time, duck."
"Cute, DiNozzo," Gibbs muttered, showing off the paltry flesh wound as Tony eyed the boat still tied down to Captain Mike's vessel.
"Let me check it out," Tony said, nodding toward the boat.
With a tilt of his head, Tony let the others know to cover him as he swung up to stand up on the railing and jump over the abnormally calm water below. Seriously, how hard could it be? He realized his error, though, as soon as he vaulted.
He should've made sure his gun was drawn, just in case Ziva hadn't seen a fourth person…
X X X
His chest burned.
That thought drifted through his mind as he tried to open his eyes. His chest burned and his head ached. Then the light sounds that went with a hospital room seeped into his consciousness. That motivated the lead weights on his eyes to move off enough for him to open them just a crack.
As he fought to stay awake, Michaela – the soft part of her that he worshipped – broke through and she held his hand. All he could focus on was the hazy image of her face, smiling at him as his eyes drifted open and closed over and over. Before he slipped back into a blissfully unaware state once again, his nerves settled at her words, "You've kept us safe. Now rest."
Yep, his girl was a bossy bit of goods.
And he did rest; slowly slipping in and out of dreams. Oddly, he had conversations about Magnum with Gibbs in his mind, all the while watching as his former boss built a boat in his basement and then magically stuffed it into a bottle. Even McGee showed up in his wandering mind, sometimes with Ziva in tow.
Ziva became a regular, though. His dreams about her startled him more often than not, because they included Michaela and the kids, upon occasion. He'd been so careful to keep those worlds separate; to keep that piece of him locked away – the piece of himself that he'd never wanted to see again.
He dreamed of Curt, Mary, and Emily most often. More often than not, his mind conjured up the dinner table. People would come and go, with conversation flowing from sports to school. But he and his kids remained the constant.
On the fourth day, Tony's dreams finally ended, though.
When he opened his eyes, they remained that way.
"Pops," Mary whispered, scooting her chair close to the police chief.
Tony couldn't help but admire the way she shook off the obvious worry and gave him the most dazzling smile. Just yesterday she'd been Emily's age – petulant, angry, and sad over the injustices dealt her. But today…
"You're gonna be fine, Pops. Ducky said so," she earnestly explained.
The police chief always thought his brain was nothing more than a gearbox at times. It took a moment for the wheels to turn, the teeth to bind, and something to chink into place. In this case, it all came back in a flash, and he struggled to move.
"No, don't do that," Mary said, before shouting over her shoulder, "I NEED HELP!"
The next ten minutes became a blur of activity, with Tony's mind racing to catch up. Curt missing. Hurt. Smugglers. Guns. Gibbs. NCIS.
By the time the nurses got Tony sitting up a little, and he'd been mildly sedated, the on-call doctor sauntered in and grinned.
"You've taken a bit of a beating, Chief," the young man stated. All the while, Tony took in the boyish face, the thin-as-rail body and wondered how the hell he'd managed to end up with Doogie Howser as his doctor.
"I'm Dr. Keller," the young man said, flipping through the chart on the end of the bed. Smiling, he added, "The bullet went between the ribs and managed to miss everything on the way in. However, on the way out, it chipped off a piece of a rib, which in turn pierced your lung."
"M'kay," Tony thickly replied, nodding his understanding. That explained the nasal cannula he currently sported. It also explained the sore throat.
"You woke up a few days ago, but I was forced to sedate you when you fought the ventilation tube," Keller continued. "I took you off the transquilizers this morning when we took you off the vent, and we've been waiting on you to make an appearance ever since."
And while that was all fine and dandy, Tony really didn't give a damn. His mind was stuck on one question.
"Where's Curt?"