Just one chapter today, this scene worked out to be at least twice as long as the other ones.
Sunday Evening
The long dining table was set lavishly, with place settings for four people. Rene Benoit sat at the head of the table, with Jeanne on his left and Tony on his right. Both Rene and Jeanne were dressed formally.
"I feel so underdressed," Tony remarked, looking down at the clean shirt he was given and his wrinkled slacks. His jacket had been damaged and was stained with blood, totally inappropriate attire for a meal of any sort, much less a fancy one.
Benoit waved his hand dismissively. "No need to worry," he said, kindly. "You weren't expecting to join us, I know. I insist that we dress up when we have dinner. It makes the meal feel elegant, don't you agree?"
"Yes," Tony replied. "It brings back memories."
"Good ones, yes?"
"Childhood, no."
Benoit nodded understandingly. "I see. Your parents were not very loving, were they? That is a shame. And yet you grew into a fine young man, from what I understand."
Jeanne snorted indelicately.
"My dear," Benoit admonished, "Tony was doing his job, and from what you told me before you knew who he really was, he treated you quite well. No?"
"It was all a lie, Papa," Jeanne replied petulantly. "How can you defend him?"
"I understand that sometimes a man must do things he does not like, for a greater good," her father replied. "You told me he was hesitant, that he waited a long time before he slept with you, and he wouldn't tell you he loved you. That seems to indicate conflict to me. Am I right, Tony?"
"I had some conflicting feelings, yes," acknowledged Tony.
Benoit nodded. "I thought so," he said, satisfied. "You are a man with a conscience, I can tell. Under other circumstances, we could have been friends. Perhaps we still can be."
"I gotta admit," Tony said, looking around, "I'm a little confused."
"Confused about what?" Benoit asked, pouring wine into Tony's glass.
"Thank you," Tony said. "Confused about the way you're treating me. Not the way Jeanne's treating me," he added, tipping his glass toward her slightly in salute. "But the way you are, like I'm a house guest."
"You are a guest," Benoit replied. "An unwilling one, yes, but a guest nevertheless. And as a guest in my house you will be treated with respect and civility. At least from now on," he added with a smile.
"Are you expecting company?" Tony asked, indicating the extra place setting.
"Yes," Benoit replied, "an associate will be joining us shortly." He looked up, "Ah, here he is now. Your timing is impeccable, we were just talking about you."
Tony turned to see Trent Kort enter the dining room.
"Good evening, Monsieur," he said politely, "Mademoiselle." Turning to Tony, he said, "What the hell happened to you?"
"Jeanne," Tony replied succinctly.
"Ahh," Trent nodded, "the scorned woman. Very dangerous creature."
"Indeed," murmured Benoit.
"Would you mind not talking about me as if I weren't in the room?" Jeanne frowned at the men.
"Sorry, my dear," Benoit said apologetically. "Adele, you may serve dinner now."
The conversation during the meal ranged from oblique comments exchanged between Benoit and Kort to discussions on fine wine and spirited arguments over who would advance to the World Cup. Throughout the meal, Tony noticed that Jeanne became more and more unhappy, glaring across the table at Tony and sending sad looks toward her father, who smiled at her indulgently.
"Shall we adjourn to the study for some cognac and cigars?" Benoit asked, pushing his chair back from the table. "Jeanne, would you mind excusing us?"
"Papa," Jeanne protested.
"My dear," Benoit replied, "this is business."
"Business," Jeanne spat. "You're treating Tony like he's a long-lost son. He used me, Papa, to get to you. You should be angry with him. You should be the one punishing him."
"Now, Jeanne," Benoit replied soothingly, "you know I'm not a violent man. I think Tony has suffered enough for his transgressions. He probably should go to the hospital, but he'll have to settle for our clumsy first aid. Isn't that enough punishment for you?"
"I am in a lot of pain," Tony supplied helpfully.
"He looks like hell," Trent added.
Jeanne sputtered for a moment, then turned and stalked out of the room.
"Like her mother," Benoit said to the two men, smiling ruefully.
Once the three men were settled in the study, the conversation turned serious.
"Your boss is something else," Kort said, shaking his head.
"Yeah," Tony agreed, "Gibbs is old school, justice at any price."
"I mean the Director."
"Oh, that boss," Tony shrugged. "Sorry."
"What will it take to get her off our backs?" Kort asked.
"I don't really know," Tony replied honestly. "I wasn't given a reason for my assignment. I was just told to get close to La Grenouille's daughter and see if I could find any information on his activities."
Benoit was watching the two men thoughtfully. "She never explained her reason for wanting to bring my operation down?" he asked.
Tony shook his head. "I didn't really ask. You're an arms dealer, I figured it had something to do with that."
"This isn't exactly her jurisdiction, though, is it?" Kort said.
"It is," Tony argued, "in a way. If the arms that Monsieur Benoit is dealing are used to attack a Navy or Marine target, it falls under our jurisdiction."
"That's an 'if' situation, though," Kort argued in return. "So far that hasn't been the case. She's been dogging him without any legal reason."
"You weren't aware of that, though," Benoit added, "were you, Tony?"
Tony looked uncomfortable.
"You would have had questions, perhaps," Benoit continued, "about her reasons and her methods, no?"
"I didn't see any reason to question her," Tony replied.
"Because she kept essential information from you," countered Kort. Tony shrugged noncommittally, sipping his cognac.
"Do you know how I found out about you?" Benoit asked Tony, who shook his head.
"My partners," he replied, nodding across at Kort.
"Partners?" Tony repeated, confused.
"You know who I am, right?" Kort asked. Tony looked at him, not saying anything. "It's okay, you can say it. I'm CIA." He laughed at the surprised look on Tony's face. "Yes, Rene knows."
"No one gets into my organization without my knowing everything about him, Tony," Benoit explained. "The CIA and I have an arrangement, a mutually beneficial one."
"Arrangement?" Tony's gaze switched between the two men in confusion. "What sort of... oh..." Realization hit him. "I get it. The CIA wants to put certain groups in power; those groups stage a coup with guns provided by the CIA but sold to them by you."
Benoit nodded. "Excellent, Tony. You're a very clever man."
"That's why the CIA told us to back off during the ARES sale," Tony added. "It all makes sense now.".
"Right," Kort replied.
"I understand that I almost got shot that night," Benoit said, "in the back, no less. Not very sporting."
Tony shrugged. "Not my call, sorry."
"So you see why we want your director to call off this personal vendetta," Trent said.
"Yeah, I can see that," Tony acknowledged, "but I don't understand what holding me hostage will do. I mean, seriously, I'm nothing special. Shouldn't your director be talking to her?"
"You know how those pissing matches go," Trent replied, "and your director is one stubborn lady."
"You're not really a hostage, Tony," Benoit added. "We'll send you back, safe and sound, if not a little worse for wear, for which I humbly apologize."
"Okay, now I'm really confused," Tony said, sitting back in his seat. "What am I here for?"
"Mostly to satisfy my daughter's need for revenge," Benoit replied apologetically. "And to show your director how dangerous her little vendetta can be to innocent people."
"You mean make her think you'll kill me?" Tony asked. "You already told me you're not a violent man."
"Oh, he may not kill you," Kort replied, "but I will, if it means protecting our arrangement."
"Boy," Tony said, grinning at Kort, "you guys do play rough."
"This is the big league, son," Kort replied. "We don't play games."
"Now, see," Tony said, sadly, "people never give our little agency any credit. We're like the red-headed stepchild."
"This is serious, DiNozzo," Kort said angrily. "A lot of time and money have been invested in this arrangement, and we don't need a vindictive woman blowing it out of the water."
"I understand what you're saying," Tony replied. "I'm not sure I really agree with what you're doing, but that doesn't matter. Nothing I think or say will make a difference in what they decide to do."
"I believe you, Tony," Benoit said. "Perhaps Mr. Kort's superiors will work something out with your director. In any case, we will play out our little game tomorrow and see what happens."
"What game?"
"We're going to see if Director Shepard cares anything about your safety," replied Kort, "or if she's truly gone 'round the bend and will do anything to get to La Grenouille."
"And if she doesn't play ball with you?"
"Then I may have to do something to make her see the error of her ways," Benoit replied smoothly. "Perhaps your boss, Special Agent Gibbs? Yes? Perhaps he will be able to persuade her to drop her crusade against me."
"I don't know if you'll get any sympathy from Gibbs," Tony said doubtfully. "He doesn't like it when his people are kidnapped and threatened. It's a Marine thing."
"Gibbs isn't as blinded by hatred as the director is," Kort replied. "He may not like what we've done, but he'll see the logic in it when he finds out the truth."
"We'll see," Tony remained doubtful. "You may have made this personal for him. Then again, he's kind of pissed at me for keeping the whole undercover operation from him, so he might not care what you do to me."
"Oh, I doubt that, Tony," Benoit said reassuringly. "I've done my homework on Special Agent Gibbs as well. He's a hard taskmaster. You've been on his team for six years now, that's the longest anyone's ever lasted with him. I imagine he'll care about what happens to you."
"Enough business and speculation of what will happen," Benoit said briskly. "More cognac, Tony?"