Chapter 2

The next day dawned bleak; a continuation of the rain from the night before. Ducky woke around 7, as he always did; needing no alarm. He was exhausted, with no sense of when it was that he might have fallen asleep, but it had been late—perhaps four o'clock; perhaps five. Only for a moment did the unfamiliar surroundings startle him, and then he remembered. He wasn't afraid—not yet, anyway—but he was irritated by the whole matter. Why couldn't Ari Haswari do the noble thing and just have it out with Gibbs, without resorting to stealing pawns in this mad chess game of his design? Ducky had no doubt that Gibbs would come out the winner. Very, very few people could defeat Gibbs. Yes; once Gibbs tracked down Ari (and provided Gerald had made it to NCIS safely, they would know to look for Ari), this hell would be over, and the world would right itself again.

He considered going back to bed, for it beckoned to him, more so than getting dressed and fighting to stay awake. But before he had to make that decision, a key turned in the lock of the door and Ari entered, carrying a covered tray. "Good morning, Doctor," Haswari said in a pleasant tone. "I made breakfast for myself, and when one is grilling things such as sandwich steaks, it's as easy to make enough for two as for one." He set the tray down on the desk, Indeed, lifting the dome lid of the plate revealed sandwich steaks, toast, two fried eggs, a container of yoghurt, and a glass of orange juice. "You take your coffee…how?"

Ducky's lips twitched in slight displeasure. "In the form of tea, actually."

"Tea. Ah, my mistake. Well, you can wash out the coffee cup. There should be tea in the cupboard."

Ducky continued to frown a bit, and then realized some further response was expected. "Erm…thank you for the breakfast."

"You're welcome. Don't count on this every day; likely as not, you'll have to forage for yourself most of the time. But I'll see that you're kept well-supplied here. I would not have you starving on my watch."

"Very kind of you."

Ari chuckled. "I admire your wit, Doctor. Now I have business to attend to, but we shall chat later."

When Ari had departed, Ducky pulled up the desk chair and ate his breakfast. Then he thoroughly washed out the coffee cup (although, he discovered, there were two mugs in the cupboard) and scrounged for tea. His hopes were limited, though. There was no stove, no hot plate, no electric kettle, even. He would be limited to boiling a cup of water in the microwave. As for tea bags…he sighed. All that he found was a box of a cheap, grocery store brand. The bags had been around long enough that they no longer had any scent. This, sir, is inhumane.

He set aside the tea bags and went back to sleep for a few hours.

When he woke around 11, he felt brave enough to try the tea. It wasn't too bad. It could have been worse. He took a shower and then got dressed. He grimaced, hating to wear clothes with a touch of the previous day's grime again…a long-held dislike. If this game of Ari's played out for several days before Gibbs appeared, Ducky hated to think what his clothes would be like then.

The room had a closet. Curious, Ducky opened the door to it and found a number of casual clothes for men, and close enough to his size that he might wear them if needed. He didn't want to wear clothes that weren't his own, however. With luck, it wouldn't come down to that. Next, he looked out the window. Alas, there was nothing to latch onto that would let him climb down from it, should he be able to open the window wider.

A search of the room produced nothing that would allow him to signal for help. No flashlight nor lantern; nothing really reflective to catch the sun (whenever it next appeared); the only mirror was in the bathroom, and that was heavily bolted to the wall. Ari could entertain guests downstairs, and they would never know that I was here.

Now he was feeling discouraged, although part of his mind told him to have faith in Gibbs. There was little that Gibbs couldn't do.

True, he hadn't been able to prevent Caitlin's death, but who could have seen that coming?

…just the madman in this house…

Am I guessing incorrectly? Am I to be Ari's next victim?

A long, drawn-out murder? Something to make Jethro suffer as he witnesses it?

Steady, Donald. Don't guess the worst. Particularly when you can't affect it, yet.

To quell his shaking feeling, he decided to immerse himself in a book, if it turned out that there were any worth reading. He pulled from the bookcase the first book that his hand touched. It turned out to be Jules Verne's Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. "I haven't read this since I was a lad," Ducky said aloud, in happy surprise. "Let's see what Captain Nemo is up to…" He took to the armchair and soon was deep into the story.

Miles away, Gibbs, having been up for most of the night, knew only irritation. This was directed mostly at himself, for not yet having found his old friend. It was one of the injustices of the universe: you can't always protect those most in need of protection. Sometimes the criminals break through your defenses. But still…when it really mattered, down in the depths of your soul, you ought to be able to find some more power to fight back.

He couldn't help thinking that if only he could try harder, he'd be able to unlock the riddle of where Ari had taken Ducky.

It was too early to consider any belief that Ducky might be dead. Gibbs dismissed that possibility. He reasoned that Ducky was worth much more to Ari alive than dead, for Gibbs would be less careful in storming Ari's lair, wherever it was, if he wasn't so desperate to make a rescue.

He got into NCIS around 6:30 a.m. It would have to be a caffeine-heavy day. On the way in, he'd called Jenny, telling her (he should have asked, but he was not in the mood for niceties) his team wasn't taking any new cases while they looked for Ducky. She agreed to that. There was always another team in the area that could take a case.

Tony stirred when Gibbs walked by; Ziva and Tim were still asleep at their desks. So, Tony had bivouacked them at NCIS HQ for the night? Made sense, but it probably wasn't practical in the long run. Tony was a good, protective sheepdog, but he couldn't corral four people for a long time. No one could, without resorting to force. "Tony? Report."

"Uh, nothing new, boss. Quiet night. McGee was running down Haswari's number last I knew…I guess I, ah, fell asleep…"

"It's okay. McGee, talk to me."

"Er, uh, y-y-yes, b-b-boss." Under a look from Gibbs, Tim closed his eyes and began again. "That, uh, that phone number that Ari called you from. No go. It was a burn phone. Hasn't been used since; he's probably d- dumped it for another."

Gibbs frowned. Tim had largely been over his stuttering, until Kate's death. Tim could have been Ari's target then; they all knew that. It would be a foolish man who would not be at least a little afraid, but a wise leader would not acknowledge this. "Keep an eye out for anything."

Tony caught his eye and spoke quietly. "Boss, you're really sure that Ducky's still alive?"

"Yep. Ari feels there are other things he wants to do with his life besides kill me. He wants me to come to him, to rescue Ducky. I won't rush as much if Ducky is found dead. If he can ramp up the stress, by rushing to get there, he'll also think I'll be more likely to make a mistake."

"He doesn't know you very well, then, boss," Tim piped up, loyally.

Gibbs smiled slightly. "Everyone can make a mistake, McGee. I'm going to try not to."

Ducky had fixed soup for himself at noon, having found some microwavable containers in the cupboard. A sandwich would have been nice to go with it, but there were no sandwiches. A container of sliced pears would have to do as a side dish. A better selection of food would be high on his list of demands, when it came to that. The idea of living on tasteless tea and cans of ginger ale was appalling.

Ari did come by just before six, bearing another covered tray. Scents of chicken and luscious fragrances arose from it even before the domed lid was lifted. A cold bottle of beer was also on the tray, and half an apple pie. "You are trying to get into my good graces?" Ducky asked with half a chuckle.

"There is no need to treat you badly, Doctor. Simply that."

"Perhaps you should have considered stocking the room with worthwhile tea, then," Ducky grumbled.

"My apologies. What would you like me to get from the market? Within reason? Yes, I'm serious. I need to go out tomorrow, anyway."

Ducky stared for a moment, and then wrote a quick, short list.

Ari read it. He smiled wryly at the final item. "A way for me to get out of here. No, sorry, Doctor. You are my guest for awhile yet."

"Your guest! Say it for what it is, man. I am your captive; your prisoner of war, not bound by the Geneva Convention, sadly. Were I your guest, I would not be held against my will in a small room with no clue as to where I even am."

"But have I mistreated you? No."

"But—"

"Doctor Mallard, I, too am a man of medicine, as you know. I took an oath. Primum non nocere. 'First, do no harm.' I respect and honor life."

"You murdered Caitlin Todd!"

Ari looked away. "Humans are not perfect beings. We flit from war to war, and in every war there are casualties. 'Collateral damage,' as American military says when it's civilians. Caitlin was…her loss was unfortunate."

"Unfortunate!"

"Believe me, I had many regrets, some of which I still hold. Still…I do what I must. We each live by a code, Doctor; at least, the more reasoned among us do. That we could all be nice to each other and live in flowers under rainbows is but a dream. The truth is, as I have said, humans are not perfect beings. Some are, however, a lot closer to it than others. I just…even out the odds a bit more with what I do."

"You murder people. That is inexcusable!"

"Is it? To right an injustice? People of great wealth may never lift a finger in their domination over others. But when they pay others to do their dirty work in the name of oppression, they are every bit as guilty as the man whose hand grips the knife's hilt. I see myself as…a patriot. A liberator."

Ducky shook his head and his finger. "You attempted to cause an international incident by blowing up a few hundred Navy families with a target drone. You, sir, are a disgrace to the human race."

"So American you are, to think in terms of black and white., Doctor. I urge you to open your mind and consider, as a philosopher, other views. That is all I am asking; just for you to consider them."

"You bastard. Never. Never! I know what is right and what is wrong."

Ari only laughed a little as he departed, once more locking the door behind him.