A/N: I should probably point out that, as those who have read any of my other fics will know, I just make stuff up as I go along. So pay no attention to anything I write about hacking into bank accounts or backtracing which computer did what. About the limit of my technological knowledge is that I can post things on the Internet. And that's about it. Oh, and I'm quite good at playing sudoku when my boss isn't looking!
Tony was bored. Castirovic's house had turned up absolutely nothing, and a three hour round trip to Mitrovica with only Kate for company had done nothing to improve his temper. Especially as they had found nothing of interest in Mandic's hotel room either. It looked like being an utterly wasted day. Added to which, Gibbs had left him Probie-sitting while he and Kate went up to Prizren to update Colonel Hunter on their progress.
McGee was doing his best to blank out Tony, but it was getting difficult. He had started by swinging on his chair, before adding humming tunelessly. Now the man had begun to fiddle with a spare pen, constantly clicking the nib in and out. "Tony!" When the other man only looked innocently at him, McGee gritted his teeth. "I can't concentrate with you doing that!"
Tony rolled his eyes. "Come on, Probie, an NCIS Special Agent is meant to be able to operate under all conditions, no matter how difficult or distracting."
"Speaking of distraction, does it still count as working if you're so busy ogling bikini models you don't do anything at a crime scene?" McGee snapped back.
"I was observing the general area," Tony replied, only to be interrupted by a beep from McGee's laptop. "So what does that mean?"
"Sometimes I think you're as bad as Gibbs," McGee muttered, tapping away at the keyboard. "I just know one day I'll see you hit a computer to make it go faster." He typed another string of commands in and leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. "I've just hacked into the Gutzwiller Bank and got into Paul Howard's personal account."
"Gutz-whatsit?" Tony laughed, leaning forward to peer over the younger agent's shoulder. "Whoa," was his only comment when he looked at the deposit side of the page. "I think we might have our man."
"$30,000 in the last three months would suggest that," McGee replied dryly. He typed a few more commands and more information flicked up on to the screen. "The money came from account number 314AST45, from the same bank, so that shouldn't be a problem. Give me a second." Both agents grinned at each other as the name of the owner of that account appeared. "Vladan Mandic."
Tony was already flipping through Howard's file. "Says here he's stationed just outside Pristina. Let's go get him."
"Uh, shouldn't we wait for Gibbs? I mean, he kinda told you off for going off by yourself last time."
Tony patted McGee on top of his head. "No, he said to take you with me next time. And that's just what I am doing Probie, so grab your gun and let's go!"
McGee opened his mouth to object again, thought better of it and followed Tony out of the room, for once not taking the time to shut down his computer properly. On the screen, a box flashed up: Backtrace successful. IP address of hacker is 801.251.434.7 Computer registered to Special Agent Timothy McGee. Sending information to account owners.
Tony drove them to the French base outside of Pristina, negotiating his way through the busy streets with only a few minor curses and near misses. The car screeched to a halt outside the gates of the base and, after a brief security check, they were waved through. The French guard had told them that Staff Sergeant Patrice Rocher, as Howard was claiming to be, was due to be in his personal quarters on the base, so they made their way to the small bungalow set aside for his use.
Signalling to McGee that he would cover the back, Tony made his way around to the rear entrance of the property, his Sig Sauer drawn and cocked, ready for action. The back door opened silently when he tried it, and he slipped inside the house, waiting for McGee to make his entrance through the front door. He heard McGee bang on the door, identifying himself as an NCIS agent. A noise from the front room put all of Tony's senses on high alert. As McGee continued to bang on the door, Tony made his way towards the front room, intending on capturing Paul Howard before he got the chance to escape.
Unexpectedly the door to the front room swung open and Howard, dressed in casual clothes rather than his army uniform, cannoned into Tony, knocking them both to the ground. "McGee! Get in here!" Tony yelled, as his gun was knocked out of his hand by the impact.
Howard recovered slightly faster than Tony and scrambled to his feet first, kicking Tony in the ribs as he did so. Winded, Tony gasped for breath and swore violently as Howard snatched up the gun, training it on Tony. McGee burst into the house then, freezing in position as he saw the tableau before him.
"Now, we're all going to take a deep breath and calm down," Howard said, hard brown eyes flickering between the two agents. "You, McGee, drop your weapon and kick it towards me. And if it accidentally goes near your friend here," he added ominously, "I'll shoot him. Got that?"
McGee did as he was told and Howard bent down quickly to get the other weapon. He stuck that gun in his belt, while keeping the other focused on Tony. "In the kitchen, both of you." McGee helped Tony to his feet and they walked slowly into the kitchen, hands behind their head as Howard directed. At a sign from him, they both sat down at the small table in the room, and placed their hands flat on the table in front of them.
Howard began pacing around the kitchen, and snarled, "Where's Mandic? I can't get hold of him, so do you have him?"
Tony shook his head. "Mandic is dead. He died trying to evade capture."
"Damn," Howard swore softly. He turned to look at the agents consideringly and neither Tony nor McGee liked the look on his face. "Still, I have a couple of cards left. You, kid," he said, indicating McGee, "go and get my car keys from my jacket pocket. Leave your cell phone here, and if you're not back in ten seconds, I'll shoot your friend. I won't kill him – I'll just shoot him."
It took McGee eight seconds to find the car keys, Tony knew; he was watching the second hand on his watch sweep around with increasing concern. "You're both coming with me," Howard said, tucking the gun away with the other one. Tony saw his chance and leapt for the man, sending them both crashing back to the floor. Desperately, he tried to pin the man down, but Howard was strong and agile and not as surprised by Tony's move as the agent would have wanted.
McGee watched anxiously, wondering whether his intervention would only make matters worse for Tony. The two men wrestled for a minute before a blow from Howard caught Tony on the side of his head and he lay stunned for a second. That was enough time for Howard to sit back and draw a gun. McGee started to move forward but was too late. The gun fired and Tony cried out in pain as the bullet slammed into his leg, just below the knee.
"That ought to slow you down for a bit," Howard grimaced, spitting out blood where one of Tony's punches had caught his mouth.
"Tony? Tony, are you OK? Tony!" McGee's voice sounded very far away to Tony, as he tried to focus on something, anything. The world had gone blurry, and was getting blurrier by the second. He looked down at his leg, startled to see the blood seeping out the wound and staining his jeans. When had that happened? His last coherent thought was that his favourite jeans were probably ruined for good, before his head slumped forward and the world went black.