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The next interruption occurred hours later when the dad unlocked his prison and motioned towards him. "Get up and come with me."
Tony got to his feet awkwardly, sucking in a breath at the pincers of pain. Dutifully he retraced his steps back upstairs, but this time the man stopped him in the living room and pointed at a hardback chair.
"Sit down!"
He sat gingerly, perching on the edge of the seat.
The son came in from the kitchen then and held out a cordless phone, "Here, Dad. It's charged, so should be good to go."
Tony deliberately made eye contact with him, determined to remind him that they had forged a tentative bond earlier that day.
The older man grabbed the phone with one hand and snatched up a ledger pad with the other. He squinted down at something written on the paper. "Is this the home phone? I don't want to make a call to a government agency."
The younger man leaned closer to confirm, "Yes, I told you it was."
"Ok," the father replied, then narrowing his gaze at Tony, he commanded, "Pay attention, Kid."
Obeying, Tony nodded for him to proceed.
The man lowered himself to rest on the arm of the room's recliner. "This call is to your dad, and it's the second call. I called him earlier when you got here to assure him this was an eye for an eye transaction."
Tony swallowed. Did the man plan to kill him, or just keep him kidnapped?
"Now he's getting an update this time. He started yeh yehing about talking to you until I finally hung up on him. This time you're gonna talk to the old man yourself, and tell him you're fine. Then I'll take back the phone and finalize ransom demands. Got it?"
Tony nodded and his mind raced with the information that his safety had a price attached. He felt himself begin to tear at the possibility of hearing his father's voice. Then he squared his shoulders and straightened his posture, "I've got it."
The younger man crossed the room and pointed to one of the phone's buttons. "That's the speaker phone feature, so just hit it once the call goes through."
The other man regarded Tony with narrowed eyes. "Say one thing out of the way, Kid, and I'll make sure your dad hears your screams when I retaliate."
He didn't wait for acknowledgement, but consulted the ledger pad and began to dial.
The first ring had not silenced when the connection was activated. Tony's emotions were at their zenith the moment his father's voice came through the speaker.
He wanted to go home!
"Agent Gibbs," his kidnapper began, "I've got your kid here."
"Let me hear him then," Gibbs demanded, his voice determined and strong.
The man raised an eyebrow and signalled Tony. "Ok, kid, just remember that I'm in charge here."
Thrusting the phone at Tony he hovered above the phone cradle, evidently ready to disconnect if the conversation did not please him.
Tony felt a rush of emotion at having contact with his father. He wiped at the corner of his eye and grabbed the receiver. "Daddy," he spoke shakily. "Daddy…"
Gibbs interrupted in his you- had- better- pay- attention- to- me- tone, and Tony caught the underlying resolve to stay in control, "Son, you are coming home. I always take care of you, ok?"
His child straightened, cradling the phone to him even though the speaker had been activated, "Yes sir."
Jethro softened. "We'll celebrate when you get home- whatever you want to do."
A flash of insight washed over the child. He knew what his dad wanted from him, what his father needed him to communicate.
"Hurry up!" yelled the older of the kidnappers.
Tony swallowed, "Okay Dad, I want that tattoo I keep asking to get, with Punk, or Parolee or something like that, promise?"
"We'll see, maybe-"
"You promised me you'd let me quit school and go on and get some kind of training, remember? You did say that. I can make money as a cook, or as a waiter, and you won't have to support me. That can be a payback, since we're family."
"No, I won't agree to that." Gibbs hardened his voice.
"Kid needs to get off the phone," the younger captor observed.
He reached out to take the receiver from the teen, but Tony motioned him to wait, then responded to his father with a whine, "You always say that and you always treat me like a baby! I can't visit friends in the country 'cause it's five miles from the Capitol. We can't get a basement rec room 'cause the walls might collapse. No, I don't get to ride the windmill ride at the fair because it's too high!"
Jethro interjected, his voice hard, "Watch what you are doing!"
"Got it, Dad, as usual. You know other boys have their dads take up for them, not destroy their lives. What about that?"
The older man suddenly snatched the phone. "Time's up, Kid. All right, Gibbs, you heard your brat and know he's still smart mouthed and alive. Next time I call it will be for ransom instructions."
Before anyone could respond he disconnected. He eyed Tony appraisingly, then chuckled. "Poetic justice- that's what it is. Straight by the book Agent Gibbs has a disappointment for a son. That little chat warmed my heart."
His own son joined in the laughter, then motioned to Tony, "Let's go, kid."
That evening Tony fell asleep reliving his phone conversation.
He had not slept more than an hour, though, when the door to his prison crashed open in splinters of wood. Tony tried to scramble to a sitting position but before he could move his arm was yanked urgently. A voice demanded, "Quick, we need to hurry!"
Half dragging the boy, the rescuer pulled him out of the room, up the stairs, and out the door. "Run to the car!" screamed the man, and Tony complied, sprinting in the direction the man indicated. Voices and noises assailed him from every direction, and he kept a straight course. Every step he ran jarred his ribs, and he clenched his teeth in determination.
The second he reached the car a deafening explosion lit the sky. Throwing himself against the car Tony caught his breath and turned to see the house in flames behind him. He had missed burning to death by seconds.
The conflagration illuminated the yard and outlying area, and Tony could identify several FBI agents, as well as some from NCIS.
His dad was not amongst them.
Tobias Fornell, an FBI agent and friend of the family, jogged over and grabbed his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
He regarded Tony with concern, and the boy answered in ragged gasps. "I'm good, but where's my dad? NCIS is here."
Fornell quickly reassured him, "He's here, don't worry. He's just not here on duty."
That didn't make sense.
"He is an agent."
"Too true," Fornell grinned, "but your dad wanted to put his hands on your kidnappers as a father, and not as a government employee."
Tony still didn't understand.
Fornell tousled his hair. "Let me put it this way. Jethro wanted to make sure they understood that he did not appreciate the fact that they laid a finger on his child."
Tony understood then.
Fornell continued, "Don't worry. We pulled him off while they were still breathing."
The next few minutes they leaned against the car and watched the fire finish burn the house to the ground.
A group of men rounded the corner of what was left of the house, and Tony saw they flanked both of his kidnappers, who were handcuffed.
He observed them appraisingly. The pair looked a bit worse for wear, and Tony could tell they had endured quite a beatdown at the hands of his father.
He watched them pass without a word.
His stomach churned. Though Agent Fornell was doing his best to comfort Tony, he desperately wanted his father.
Fornell leaned over and rubbed his right eyelid. "Close your eyes a second. I want to see if this is a smudge, or a black eye."
Tony closed his eyes obediently.
Seconds later strong fingers framed either temple, then a calloused palm stroked his cheek.
He recognized that touch at once and reached out and grabbed his father to him, then burst into tears.
Neither spoke, but Gibbs kissed the top of Tony's head and held him protectively against him, arms tightly wrapped around his son's body. Tony clung to him. Nuzzled against his dad's neck, he felt gratitude for the familiar sawdust and coffee scent that cloaked his father, and they stayed that way until Tony's tears slowed.
Finally Gibbs tilted Tony's chin and whispered softly, "Hey, are you ready to go home?"
Tony nodded against him and Gibbs pushed him back gently. "Let's go then."
They began to walk, and Jethro kept an arm across Tony's shoulder to keep the boy against him.
"How did you find me, Dad?"
"My brilliant son led me right here. You gave enough information for us to identify your abductors and to find the place."
"It's what you taught me to do. I tried to talk fast to get it all communicated, Dad."
Gibbs tightened his arm over his son's shoulders. "Time to go home, Son."
A sudden whoosh of light nearly blinded him and Tony shook his head to clear it. Voices surrounding him became increasingly louder and he tried to make sense of the change in circumstance.
"Slowly, young fellow," an older man ordered. "Don't try to get up too fast."
Tony obeyed, pulling himself into a sitting position with ragged breaths. He looked around and found he was surrounded by an assortment of people, all watching him intently.
"What happened?"
"You got knocked out," a woman in the crowd supplied. Like Tony, she was dressed in jogging clothes.
"Knocked out how?" Tony rubbed the back of his head.
A uniformed man leaned down and then helped Tony get to his feet. "I'm Brent Maxwell, one of the park guides. There was a black bear sighting on the jogging trail early this morning, and you hit the trail while I was still trying to nail up the warning sign. You went so fast that I had to race to catch up to you, and when I did, you took off like you'd been scalded. You ran smack into a low branch from one of the oaks, and it knocked you out. I got you off the trail, and then these others helped move you to a better place. How are you feeling?"
"My head hurts," Tony admitted, "but thanks for looking out for me."
"Not a problem, but you need to have that checked, just in case. By the way, this medallion belongs to you."
He offered Tony the sports emblem the teen had thrown at the beginning of the confrontation.
"I'm ok," the teen assured him, fingering the jewelery. "I'll just skip the rest of my run and go home and take it easy for a couple of hours."
The woman brushed back his bangs worriedly. "The officer is going to take you home."
The ranger nodded, "Right, I need to turn you over to a parent."
Tony groaned.
"Is no one home?" asked the woman.
Tony began brushing off his clothes. He grinned lopsidedly. "Someone's home. It's cool, but I just realized that my dad will know I was jogging somewhere I did not have permission to run. That's going to be the kiss of doom for my plans to go out tonight."
He rubbed his head softly and gave a lopsided grin. "It's a pity, too, 'cause the scene that I dreamed while I was out of it ended a whole lot better for me!"
His audience laughed.