Chasing Jack
Chapter Five
Skimming his fingertips over the top page of the pile of papers which were set in his lap Tim McGee read the list of names and places. The papers were copies of the ones the hooded person he had chased had dropped before fleeing with his partner in that Volkswagon.
The majority of the pages contained coded information which he and Abby were still working to decipher. But the first couple in the pile had not been encrypted. The one he was looking at now contained names of what seemed to be persons of interest to The Wheel. Whether they were interested in them in a good or bad way was yet to be determined. They could be anything from potential recruits to those that were on the radar because they were interfering with the organization.
Some of the names had a line struck through them. What that possibly indicated Tim did not really want to think on too long given what The Wheel was capable of undertaking.
But the top portion of names on the page all had location details placing them in Portland. The very first one was Chris Bennett who by the information given was employed by Casco Bay Ferry Lines.
"What's the name McGee?" Gibbs questioned from his position in the driver's seat.
"Bennett. Chris Bennett," the younger man replied.
"It give anything more than that he works for the ferry lines?"
"Not much but does say he has brown hair, is slightly over six feet tall, and has green eyes."
"Better than what we had before. We'll find him. One of those people on that list knows something useful. We go one by one until we find that one McGee," the team leader replied as he opened the driver's side door and climbed out.
"Will do Boss!" McGee declared and departed the vehicle as well.
"Nice job parking Boss," Tim commented as he made his way around the back end of the charcoal gray colored Jeep Cherokee in the next spot to join Gibbs up on the sidewalk. Normally he would have just slipped between the bumper of their sedan and the bumper of the Jeep but Gibbs had only left a mere two inches separating the two vehicles. The driver of the Jeep had no idea how he had lucked out this day.
"Piece of cake!" the senior agent stated as they headed down the sidewalk in search of Chris Bennett and whatever it might be that he could provide them on The Wheel.
But their hopes didn't pan out. A half hour later found them walking back up the sidewalk to the car. Chris Bennett had not shown up for work that day – not even so much as phone call indicating why. His employer, or now former employer, hadn't been willing to provide a home address or phone number without a warrant and the papers McGee carried did not hold that information either. It would take a bit of research to garner those details.
"Dead end. At least for now," Tim commented as they arrived beside their rented sedan. Gibbs had been silent for most of their walk to and from the ferry lines. McGee could tell he was churning something over in his head that he didn't care to share quite yet. The younger man knew better than to ask. But it was clear that Leroy Jethro Gibbs was chewing on something his gut had clued him into but that he hadn't entirely pieced together yet.
"Should we go back to the hotel and see what Ziva and Moore got from Abby and Ducky?" McGee asked as he moved to stand at the passenger side door of the vehicle. Unfortunately, Gibbs still held the keys captive. A beat of silence passed then the team leader answered.
"One more. Then the hotel."
"Alright. Next up on the list is..." Tim replied as he pulled out the paper which he had taken from the pile and folded to put in his pocket.
"Jack Cutter. All we got on him is a place of employment. Traveler's Pub."
"And where exactly would that be McGee?"
"Uh. It's... let's see," the junior agent stammered as he pulled out his phone and searched for the street address. The paper had only listed its location as Portland.
"Any day now McGee."
"Got it! It's at 269 Fore Street which is a little bit of a walk from here but might be easier than finding another parking spot. And looks like Traveler's is a sole proprietorship owned by a Bruce Seavey."
"Better get a move on then!" Gibbs tossed back as he headed off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction that they had returned from the ferry terminal.
"How did he know it was that way?" McGee questioned to himself watching the team lead walk away and then looked down at the map on his phone. Gibbs had headed in the correct direction despite that they had three choices. Their vehicle was parked across from a street that dead ended into the one they were parked on. There was the direction the ferry lines was located in. And, lastly, the direction which the boss had headed off towards. Out of the three he had immediately picked the right one.
"Must have used his gut," Tim murmured to himself.
"Planning on joining me McGee or am I flying solo here?" the senior agent called out to him without even stopping or looking back.
"Right behind ya Boss!" he called back and headed off at a jog to catch up. Hopefully, the second name on the list wouldn't turn out like the first one had.
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Traveler's Pub stood midway down the block. The brick structure was slightly older but well maintained. The sign over the doorway offered up the name of the establishment in green stylishly painted cursive letters against a beige background. It was also well kept and gave the sense that the owner put some pride in the place.
Tim dropped his gaze down from the exterior of the building as they reached the front entryway. He trailed Gibbs through the doorway and into the dimly lit interior.
"Sorry guys we're not quite open yet!" the short heavy set man behind the bar called out as they entered.
"Not here to socialize!" Gibbs replied. His gaze scanned the room as he made his way towards the front of the bar.
"Sure you're in the right place then?" the man responded. A smirk teased at his lips.
"Yep," Gibbs replied matter of factly as he arrived at the counter.
"Alright I'm game. What can I do for you?" the man stated and set the thick stack of receipts he had been sifting through down on the counter-top.
"Well, Bruce, we really only have one question," Gibbs stated firmly.
"How exactly do you know my name?" Bruce inquired. His posture stiffened and his body weight shifted away from them. Clearly he perceived them as nothing but trouble.
"We're federal agents. Naval Criminal Investigative Service," McGee responded and offered up his credentials.
"Feds? For the navy? This place ain't seen a sailor in several decades. Now I know you got the wrong joint."
"See that's where you're wrong," Gibbs commented back.
"How's that, Agent…?"
"Gibbs and McGee."
"Well see Bruce we're looking for Jack," the senior agent informed him.
"Jack? Jack Cutter?" the pub owner questioned in confusion.
"That would be the one."
"What do you want with him?"
"That's between us and Jack!" Gibbs tossed back firmly.
The man behind the counter was still and silent for a moment as if pondering how he was going to play his answer. After a collection of seconds had ticked by and the bar owner didn't seem to be coming up with anything worth pursuing the other two men decided that his time was up.
"We know he works here!" McGee interjected in a definite tone – hedging on that their information was good. Bruce's shoulders drooped down a bit as he realized they already knew for sure and weren't just fishing around for confirmation. But he remained silent.
"Is he working today?" McGee nearly demanded.
"Let me check the schedule," Bruce responded and began moving towards the doorway that separated the pub area from the back room. Gibbs stepped in front of him as he reached the end of the counter.
"I get the impression you know exactly whether or not he's working," Gibbs stated. The no nonsense tone it was delivered in clearly instructed Bruce that he better begin cooperating right quick.
"Alright fine! Yes. I know whether or not Jack is working today!" Bruce responded in a raised voice. The sudden shift in the man's volume did not go unnoticed. Gibbs glanced from the man to McGee and back. The younger agent had caught it as well. Jack Cutter was already at work. He was in the back room and his boss had just tried to alert him to their presence. Whether it had worked or not was impossible to tell.
"Move out from behind that counter and you can add being arrested for interfering with a federal investigation to your list of accomplishments," Gibbs warned.
"Anybody back there with him?" Gibbs continued.
"No. Just him," Bruce answered, defeated.
"Don't you move! Got it?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I got it."
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He was literally a Jack of all trades around the place. He let out a soft chuckle at the thought. A heavy sigh trailed right behind it though as his mind clicked back into proper gear. He wasn't Jack Cutter. This Jack Cutter was not a real person he corrected himself. A familiar stream of anxiety which had become his frequent companion as of late began flowing through him once again.
"I'm Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," he reminded himself. The words were said under his breath so faintly they ended up mouthed rather than spoken. The volume of his voice didn't matter though. The words were intended for his ears only. The fact that it had come to having to remind himself aloud of his true identity was beginning to wreak havoc on his nerves.
He moved to the area of the pub's backroom near the office. He went to the shelves against the wall and began sorting through them taking inventory. Once he had surveyed the ones in the front of the first shelf he took down the boxes and set them on the floor next to the open doorway leading into the office so that he could get to the ones behind them in the back.
As he straightened up from placing the last box down he caught something out of place inside the office. It drew his attention enough that he stepped inside the adjoining room to get a closer look at the security camera monitor on the shelf above the office desk.
When he had first started working there the security camera equipment had just been sitting unused in a box. The pub's owner, Bruce, told him that he had thought it was a good idea to have it but once he had gotten the stuff back to the pub he discovered he was clueless about how to set it up and make it all work properly.
Tony had seized the opportunity and offered to do it for him. He set up the cameras and the monitors and even laid out the recording equipment. The cameras worked just fine now but the recording equipment was another story. Despite having set it up and even plugged it into the power outlet he had deliberately neglected to actually connect the cameras and monitors to the recorder. It was the perfect set up because the monitors would allow Tony to know what and, more importantly, who was out in the pub by checking the monitors before he went out there. But the fact nothing was being recorded was his protection.
Bruce never touched the equipment. If there was ever a problem he asked Tony, or as the case may be Jack, to deal with it. The fact that the lights on the recorder were lit up seemed to be satisfactory to the pub owner. For which Tony was grateful. The old man despite not being the brightest crayon in the box was a decent guy and had been more than fair to him.
Now Tony stood staring at the monitor that showed the area of the pub near the bar.
"Can't be!" he declared in a low disbelieving voice. He had truly and finally gone over the edge and was now seeing things. What he was seeing on the screen couldn't be real. He was imagining it. His nerves were finally getting to him. That was the only explanation.
Tony clamped his eyelids shut and let a handful of racing heartbeats pass by before peeking open first one eye then the other. He must really be losing his mind. But when he reopened them he saw the same image on the screen before his eyes.
The pub's owner, Bruce, was standing at the bar looking rather nervous. Across the bar from him stood two men he had not set eyes upon in four long years. Reality struck him hard. His chest tightened instantly. His thoughts swirled chaotically in his head.
Gibbs and McGee were in the next room!
The image stole the breath from his lungs momentarily.
Once the air returned to his body he was assaulted with that deep ache he had experienced a lot over the last few years. He wanted so badly to simply cross the room, open the door, and walk out into the pub to be reunited with them. He was tired and longed to rest and be himself – if he even remembered who that was anymore.
It popped into his thoughts that there was a slight possibility that they were there about something else unrelated to him. For some strange reason that sent sadness cascading through him. Then he thought better of his idea.
"Yeah right! Not much chance of that," he muttered quietly. What would be the odds they were there about something other than The Wheel case? Slim to none.
The realization seemed to unlock something in him. Logic and reality seized him back from his mental wanderings. Gibbs and McGee were within feet and seconds of discovering him. And if they did it would put their lives in jeopardy. The ache and the tug in his heart to go to them ran deep but the mere thought of something happening to his team was stronger. It won out and he knew what he had to do next.
Run!
He moved quickly to the front of the desk. Snatching a key from its hiding place he opened the bottom drawer in the desk and pulled out the petty cash lockbox. Moving as rapidly as possible he unlocked the box and counted out what would amount to the paycheck he would have received the following day.
Not bothering to even close the lid to the box Tony moved back towards the office doorway and grabbed his dark blue hoodie from the hook there. As he bolted at a run towards the back doorway of the building he stuffed the cash in his pocket and then struggled into the jacket just as he reached the door.
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Gibbs moved into position at the side of the doorway near the end of the bar. Tim quickly got into place on the other side. Both drew their weapons in preparation for whatever going through the doorway into the backroom of the pub might bring. After a beat of silence and a deep inhale and exhale Gibbs gave the nod to his partner that set them in motion.
They burst through the double swinging doors into the dimly lit storeroom.
"Federal agents! Jack Cutter show yourself!" the team leader called out commandingly.
Immediately their attentions were drawn to the open doorway on the opposite end of the expansive room. They only got a fleeting glimpse of the tall hooded figure as it fled through the back door of the storeroom and into the alleyway beyond.
"I'll come around from the front in case he circles back!" Gibbs called out as he dashed at a run back through the swinging doors towards the front entrance.
"Got it!" McGee called back as he bolted out through the back doorway into the alley behind the pub. He immediately spotted the tall hooded figure running along the narrow alley between the buildings up ahead of him. The man had a head start on him but was certainly still within earshot.
"Jack Cutter! Federal agent! Stop!" Tim cried out as he raced down the alley giving chase with all he had in him.
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Tony knew that voice. It had been four long years since he last heard it. But his probie's cry of federal agent! had been unmistakable. There was no reason to look back to confirm it. And by the sounds of it Tony needed to pick up the pace because the gap between them was too close for comfort.
Oh how he wished he could just stop running!...And go home.
But he knew it couldn't be. So his mind forced his legs to move faster even though his heart tried to sabotage his escape. All his heart wanted to do was stop.
"Federal agent! I said stop!" he heard McGee's voice call out behind him. The cry was winded and Tony prayed the other man was tiring. Tony thought he may have the advantage since for the last four years he had been preparing himself physically to be on the move constantly and ready at any second to flee for his life.
Now nearly three quarters of the way down the long narrow alleyway his next obstacle arrived. Tony didn't even break stride as he grabbed onto the wire on the fence in front of him and hoisted himself up onto it.
Climbing the fence must have slowed him just enough because suddenly his progress jerked to a halt. McGee's arms had grabbed hold of his left leg and yanked him to a stop.
McGee had him in a vice grip by the cloth of his jeans and the lower portion of his leg. Tony struggled to free himself from his ex-partner's hold but all he recovered was scarcely more than an inch. McGee had him trapped halfway over the top of the fence. He either needed to get loose and down over the other side or McGee would eventually pull him down using the leverage and advantage of being firmly planted on the ground.
Then there was the whole thing where McGee had a gun. The leg which McGee held captive was the same one on which Tony's own weapon was secured. If the agent discovered it in the midst of their struggle things could turn south fast. That could end badly - for both of them. He was left with little choice.
He was proud of Tim for doing such a good job of chasing him down and now once he had him refusing to let him go. But at the same time this was too close for comfort. He could feel his chest tighten and his heart pound in a near panic. He couldn't be discovered.
"Ma vaffanculo!" Tony ground out frustratedly in Italian as McGee tugged furiously at his leg to try to bring him back over to his side of the fence. The younger man was determined and also apparently had been visiting the gym more frequently. If this kept up much longer Tim just might succeed in pulling one of the joints in his leg out of its proper place.
Tony resigned himself to what had to be done.
Just for an instant he looked downward back through the wire of the chained link fence at the other man to see exactly how he was positioned. Fortunately, McGee had his eyes cast ahead instead of upward as he focused his strength at removing his prisoner from the top of the fence so he did not catch the slight glimpse he may have otherwise gotten of the other man's face.
Tony bit down on his lower lip and looked away as if those actions would somehow buffer the painful reality of what he was about to do to his friend. Then he drew up his free leg high enough so it cleared the agent's head. With as much directed control as he could manage in his current position, slung over the fence at the waist, he slammed his boot down squarely into Tim's face. Tony could hear the sharpness of the impact as well as the distinct sound of bone breaking and tearing cartilage. Tim cried out in pain and loosened his grip. Immediately realizing what he had done the agent scrambled to regain his hold on his attacker's leg. But his prisoner had already pulled it out of his reach.
Tony scrambled over the top of the fence and dropped to the ground below. He was in a flat out run before both feet had even completely hit the ground. He did not look back for even an instant. He couldn't and he didn't particularly care to either. He couldn't because if he turned Tim might recognize him and even more intensely he didn't want to see the damage he had done to Tim's face with the hard work boot and the force he had no choice but to apply it with in order to ensure his escape.
The slight solace he had was that it was better that his friend have a broken nose or broken jaw than be lying stone cold dead somewhere because he was means to an end for the bad guys. The Wheel would not hesitate to eliminate anyone they saw as an obstacle or threat.
"Sorry Tim!" Tony apologized under his breath as he made the corner and took off down the adjoining street.
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Senior Field Agent Tim McGee made an attempt to scale the fence as the other man raced down the alleyway on the opposite side. But part way up lightheaded-ness seized him. He stopped and curled his fingertips more tightly around the cold wire of the fence to steady himself and in the hopes maybe it would pass. But instead it only intensified.
Nausea surged through him and his vision, what little there was left of it through the blood on his face, was failing him. As his vision drifted back and forth from normal to double and back again he watched the dim blurry figure of Jack Cutter disappear around the corner.
Then the rest of the world dimmed before his eyes and he could no longer hold the fence. Tim struggled to climb back down but his mind seemed disconnected from his muscles and the wire slipped from his fingertips. The sensation of falling backwards came but consciousness departed him before the impact with the ground arrived.
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Gibbs rounded the corner and raced down the long narrow alleyway between the buildings. He was halfway along when the view of the end of the alley came into sight. Then his legs simply would not move as fast as his head and heart insisted they must carry him.
His Senior Field Agent lay motionless on the ground up ahead. Blood covered his facial features. Streams of the red life giving fluid flowed over his cheeks and dripped onto the concrete beside his body.
"McGee!" His voice was thick with strain, urgency. Uncharacteristically a sliver of fear, of dread, had slipped out somehow from the steel cage surrounding his emotions. Just for an instant there when he had first seen his agent sprawled out on the cold concrete his mind had slipped out of gear and what he saw was another senior field agent lying motionless on the ground. The image of Tony instead of Tim lying there had flashed vividly inside his head for an instant and terror tore through him. He couldn't go through that again. He couldn't lose another.
Actually he had never really finished going through it. He missed Tony every damn day. He was not sure that the road of that particular loss would ever smooth or come to an end. It would relentlessly make him ache. It would always be unforgiving and raw. It would always haunt him. It would be thoroughly and forever….wrong.
"Tim," he whispered as he dropped to his knees beside the younger man. He frantically checked for breathing and a pulse. Finding both he let out a breath and felt the muscles in his chest loosen up a fraction. Standing, he visually scanned the area but Tim's attacker had vanished. His chest tightened once again but this time because it was dense with fury.
"I will find you Jack Cutter! Do you hear me?" Gibbs screamed out up at the sky then delivered a swift kick to the chain link fence. A beat followed in which he silently fumed and then he gave an even more enraged blow to a nearby dumpster. The harsh impact of the boot into the metal echoed off the buildings and hung in the air for a moment. Having taken the edge off his frustration he returned to his agent's side.
"T…To…Tony," McGee struggled to get out in confused semi consciousness. The senior agent could tell by the unfocused state of the young man's eyes he wasn't quite with it yet.
"Hey! No. It's Gibbs."
"Boss?" Tim mumbled and began to shift around like he was going to try to sit up.
"Whoa there! Now take it easy."
"I had him Gibbs. He started over the fence but I caught up to him. He was half way over and I grabbed his leg. If I had just…," Tim explained but his words trailed off as his voice took on a defeated tone.
"Just what?"
"Not let go. He kicked me in the face."
"Yeah. I can see that," Gibbs stated.
"I'm sorry Boss!"
"You know the rule."
"Yeah I know. No apologies. I just - never mind."
"Go on."
"No, Boss, I…"
"McGee!"
"I was going to say…if it had been Tony the guy would be in handcuffs right now."
"Yeah, well, we've all had our moments even him."
The fact that Gibbs chose not to use Tony's name did not go unnoticed by the younger agent. In fact he suddenly realized as he lay on the cold rough pavement that he couldn't recall Gibbs using DiNozzo's name much if at all over the last few years. That couldn't be right? Could it?
Maybe it was the blow to the head scrambling his memory. He searched through his memories, discovering that it wasn't that Gibbs didn't talk about Tony but rather that often the conversation was already in full swing amongst the rest of them and Gibbs participated but seemed to be able to make you know exactly who he was talking about without use of a name.
For an instant the warm memory of the team seated together over a recent dinner at a restaurant sharing memories of all the escapades of their friend washed away the physical pain he was in. So many stories – so much light lost to their little family.
"Come on. Let's get you to a hospital!" the more senior agent stated, tearing him from his thoughts.
"I think he broke my nose!" McGee grumbled out as Gibbs took him by the arm to begin the process of getting him up off the ground. His boss smirked before his face shifted to seriousness once again. Then he responded.
"Yep. And he'll be sporting one just like it when I catch him."
"I appreciate that Boss. But I'd really love to do those honors."
Gibbs grinned. He would love to see that. The younger man had really come a long way. McGee had toughened up yet his individuality had not been compromised along the way.
The team leader's grin fell again.
It had been Tony for the most part that had molded, rather cleverly he might add, Tim into the agent that stood, albeit currently rather unsteadily, before him now. Tony had been a fantastic teacher without anyone ever knowing he was one. Some of the best teachers were the ones who could teach without their student ever even realizing they were being taught. And Tony had been one of those.
"Oh we'll be seeing Jack Cutter again. And I have a prediction about it," Gibbs told the more junior agent.
"What's that Boss?"
"The encounter won't be pleasant for him."
"Works for me!"
"Glad to hear it."
"Hey boss!"
"Yeah."
"There's only one of you, right?"
"Uh huh."
"That offer for a ride to the hospital still good?"
"Double vision?"
"Triple."
"Hospital express now departing!" the senior agent announced. Taking Tim by the arm to steady him the pair headed back down the alleyway. The twist of the head that the junior agent made to peer back towards the fence did not go unnoticed by the other man. So the team lead offered a few reassuring words.
"We'll get him McGee. Jack Cutter can't out run me. He's mine!"
To Be Continued...
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Coming up...
Are Gibbs & Co. the only ones on Tony's trail? Or is The Wheel not far behind either? Plus...
Is there anyone Tony can turn to for help? Or is he completely alone on the run?
Stay tuned for the answers!
Thanks so much for reading.