Chasing Jack
Chapter Six
Twilight did not linger for long on October days. And by the time Gibbs and McGee had made it back to the parking lot of the hotel night had descended on the city. The streetlights clicked on just as the team leader climbed out of the driver's side of their rented sedan and pushed the door closed. His senior field agent was moving quite a bit more slowly but had opened the door on the other side of the vehicle and was working on getting out. Gibbs waited him out in silence. Given the blow to the head the younger man had received McGee was holding his own.
After a few seconds Tim was standing beside the car, one hand pressing an ice pack to his face and the other grasping on to the top of the open passenger side door.
"You good?" Gibbs asked breaking the silence between them. By the look of him it was questionable if the other agent could make it to their rooms unassisted.
"I'm good. Unless of course you're asking about the newly acquired coloring of my face. Or how I feel about the taped up nose look. Then that's a different story."
"Don't care how you look McGee. Care about if you are going to make it inside without keeling over."
"Oh. Then, yeah, I'm good."
"In that case get a move on. Need to check in at the desk. Get our room numbers."
"Oh Boss. Ziva texted me the rooms earlier. You're in 334. Moore and I are in 332. And Ziva's got 330. So all right next one another."
The team leader simply nodded his understanding and they headed towards the building. A few minutes later Gibbs was delivering a rap of the fist on the door of the room which McGee would share with Moore. After a second more hefty bang on the door Moore answered and held the door opened while first Gibbs then McGee entered the room.
"Whoa! What the hell happened to you?" Moore asked as Tim passed him by. He then closed the door and trailed them into the interior of the room. His comment drew the attention of Ziva who was seated in front of a laptop at the small table by the window. She looked up from the computer at the pair who had just arrived.
"Okay, this did not happen getting our dinner. And you were gone far too long for that anyway. We gave up on that long ago and ordered delivery. You were following a lead. Weren't you?" she questioned as she rose from her seat.
"Looks like it lead to something alright," Moore added taking a second glance towards McGee.
"Yep!" the team leader answered her.
"Then why were we left here to tuttle our thumbs?"
"Twiddle your thumbs. Not tuttle," McGee mumbled wearily. His comment drew Gibbs' attention towards him.
"You. Lie down before you fall over."
"Right Boss," Tim replied and promptly collapsed onto the nearest bed.
"You did not answer my question Gibbs," Ziva pressed.
"Because I didn't leave you here so you could twiddle your thumbs. I left you here so you could get in touch with Abby and Ducky to see what they found. Which you better have done unless you were looking to be unemployed."
"Yes. We have done this," she responded quietly. But the frustration had not dissolved completely from her voice.
"Look at that. Employed for another day David!" Gibbs declared then took up a seat on the end of the bed across from the one McGee occupied. His action prompted the senior field agent to stir. Seeing that it looked like Tim might try to sit up he reinforced his early command.
"Stay put!" the team lead grumbled in his direction.
"Staying put," McGee confirmed and let his body relax back into the pillows.
"So you never answered my question," Moore piped up from his position standing at the foot of Tim's bed.
"Uh. That's because I forgot what it was," Tim confessed.
"What the hell happened?" Moore reminded him.
"Bastard named Jack Cutter happened."
"What did he do to earn the title."
"Ran from us. Then after I caught him he kicked me in the face. Very hard."
"Then I agree with your assessment."
"My assessment?"
"Yeah. He really is a bastard."
"Are you alright McGee?" Ziva asked.
"Well that depends."
"On what?"
"Is anyone else hearing voices?"
"Voices?" Moore questioned.
"Yeah. Like there are other people in the room besides us that are talking."
"Oh no," Ziva stated as realization hit her. She rapidly moved back around to the other side of the table where she had been seated earlier.
"I am so sorry!" she said speaking to the screen of the laptop. She picked up the computer and turned it around to face the others which revealed that the webcam window was opened and they were connected to Abby and Ducky who were both in the forensic scientist's lab. Before setting it back down on the table Ziva hit the button on the keyboard that would increase the audio volume on it.
"We were calling for you Ziva," Abby responded.
"I apologize. Gibbs and McGee returned and I got up to speak with them. I had the volume on the laptop turned down on low when we were speaking earlier. I did not hear you calling my attention."
"I feel so forgotten," Abby said more to Ducky who stood beside her than to the group.
"It was not intentional Abigail. She was merely distracted momentarily," the medical examiner soothed her.
"Well, I guess that makes sense. Okay. But it better not happen again."
"Cross my heart!" Ziva replied.
"That's okay we couldn't hear you either. Well, we could hear talking but not what was being said. So I guess we're even."
"Seems fair Abby!" Ziva declared.
"Hello everyone. This is so cool it's like we're there with you guys. Of course, we're not but the webcam makes it feel that way. Like we're closer than we really are,"Abby commented in a rambling observation.
"I think what Abigail is trying to say is that it is good to see that you have arrived safely," Ducky said with a soft smile. The comment though prompted Moore to glance at McGee to check in on him and it did not go unnoticed by the forensic's expert.
"Sleeping on the job McGee. I see you hiding over there behind Gibbs. Your legs are sticking out on the bed from behind him," she teased.
"Sleep. Wouldn't that be fantastic!" Tim replied and sat up. He leaned forward so that Gibbs who was seated on the neighboring bed no longer blocked his line of sight to the laptop.
"Oh my god Timmy!" Abby exclaimed. Then she clamped both hands over her mouth in shock at the sight of the swollen and bruised state of his face.
"What on earth happened?" Ducky quickly jumped in with afterward. Gibbs explained in his frugal way with words.
"Foot chase. Broken nose. Concussion. Visit to the ER."
"My goodness, Timothy, are you quite alright?" Ducky inquired with concern. Before the senior field agent could even begin to reply Abby spoke up.
"Oh McGee. If my arms reached that far I would give you one of my extra strength hugs."
"I'm alright guys," Tim responded then in a much quieter voice added, "Nothing catching Jack Cutter can't help me get over."
"As soon as you get back I am giving you that hug. Maybe even a double dose!" Abby offered him.
"And if Abigail's medicine doesn't do the trick then I'll be more than happy to take a look at you," Ducky added.
"Thanks guys. Truth is what would really make me feel better is giving that bastard what he has coming," McGee stated determinedly. There was a silent beat of agreement from the others then Gibbs redirected the conversation.
"Whatcha got for me Ducky?" he questioned.
"Well, I have only just had the time for a once over. It really is amazing how you notice more and more over the course of..."
"Today Duck!"
"Alright then. We'll be on with it. My guest, former Navy corpsman Davis, died from drowning."
"He drowned? In his apartment?" Ziva inquired a bit confused.
"There was water in his lungs. In fact quite a bit of it. As for your question Ziva I couldn't offer that answer yet. They may have agreed to let us have the body but they certainly were not swift in actually giving it to us. Therefore, I have had very little time to visit with Mr. Davis."
"But is it possible? That it happened there in the apartment?" Gibbs questioned.
"Certainly. Bath tub would have been the easiest. But there are other ways."
"Where was he found?"
"Kitchen!" Abby piped in with the answer.
"So was he murdered or not?"
"I am sorry Jethro. We simply have not had the body and the evidence long enough to determine that."
"Hypothetical Duck."
"It's possible. If he was placed in the bath tub and the level of water raised over his head. Then he was held beneath the surface."
"If someone held him down there would have been a struggle unless he was unconscious at the time. Any indicators he fought back?"
"Not thus far. But it wouldn't have done much good. He was at a serious disadvantage."
"What's that mean Duck?"
"If the submersion hadn't killed him the cancer would have eventually done the job. His bad health would have weakened him considerably. He could have fought but not for long."
"Cancer?"
"Yes. And it was rather progressed I am afraid. Even if he was seeking treatment he most likely was not long for this world."
"If he was seeking treatment?"
"I have only had the body for a short time Jethro. I work efficiently but sadly not that quickly. I'll know more perhaps tomorrow upon further review."
"What else?"
"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! The Duckman found something way cool," Abby said excitedly.
"Well, to be honest it was Mr. Palmer who detected something amiss," the medical examiner corrected her.
"Sorry. You did say it was Jimmy. It's just so weird and cool I might have gotten carried away."
"Now you have me curious Abby. What is this thing?" Ziva inquired.
"This baby right here!" Abby announced and held up a small odd shaped item in her gloved hand.
"A piece of plastic. I do not not understand why this has you so excited," Ziva stated in confused reaction.
"Ah! But it is not any ordinary piece of plastic. At least I don't think it is," Abby replied visually inspecting the item in her hand.
"Wait. Abby. I thought you said Ducky found it. Where was it?" Tim jumped in to ask.
"Oh McGee. I can always count on you to ask such excellent questions."
"So what's the answer?" he questioned. Ducky responded.
"While photographing a tattoo that Mr. Davis had decorating his arm Mr. Palmer noticed that there was a scar hidden on the skin beneath the area of the tattoo – masked by the ink. Upon inspecting the area I could tell that there was an object underneath the skin. We then took an x-ray to ensure it didn't appear to be anything dangerous. Which did not appear to be the case. We extracted this piece of medical grade plastic which was surgically implanted in the man's arm."
"What's so special about it besides the fact he was wearing it as an implant?" Moore asked.
"Another great question. Geez! You guys are on a roll tonight!" the forensics expert declared.
"Abs!" Gibbs snapped. His patience was wearing a bit thin at this point.
"I was getting there."
"A little faster."
"Right. So this piece of medical grade plastic has all these raised bumps on it. Bumps that are different shapes, sizes, and groupings. Plus it's tinted different colors in different places. The bumps though - it's almost like some kind of braille or something."
"Is it?"
"Nope. Not braille. I checked."
"Any ideas on what the bumps might be?"
"Still working on it Gibbs. There is something else interesting about it. As you can see it's sides are not straight lines. It's not a specific shape kind of the way a jigsaw puzzle piece would be odd shaped. And there are little indentations or notches here and there on the edges of it as if it was meant to fit together with something else. Pretty cool huh?" the forensic expert commented. It was McGee who spoke up in reply.
"It is pretty cool Abby. But since Devon Davis was high up in The Wheel – at least according to Fornell's intel it's really more weird and creepy. Can you send me a close up picture of it? We can't really make out the detail over the webcam," he requested. However, the end part was delivered inside a yawn he couldn't manage to hold back.
"Already done. Along with all the evidence logs and crime scene photos. Check your email," she replied.
Gibbs glanced around at his team. Over the webcam he could see that Ducky had taken to leaning his forearms on the table in front of him. He looked to be fighting off drowsiness. Abby was still lively but given her sky high level of Caf Pow consumption that wasn't a surprise. Moore was leaned against the wall and his head was drooped down as if it was too heavy to hold up much longer. McGee just looked like crap. And even Ziva looked weary around the edges. He wanted to push forward on the reports from Ducky and Abby but it just wasn't going to happen tonight. So he called it.
"Alright enough for tonight. We're all beat. Everybody hit the rack. Rest up you're going to need it."
"But Gibbs we have more!" Abby stated eagerly.
"It'll hold til morning. Go home Abby. You too Duck."
"Just a little while longer. Please Gibbs," Abby pleaded.
"Not tonight. Duck, you make sure she leaves."
"Will do Jethro! Goodnight all!"
"Bye guys!" Abby said and waved farewell at them through the web camera. The webcam window on the laptop went dark. There was a silent tired moment in the hotel room.
"What I said about hitting the rack was not a suggestion," Gibbs finally announced then rose from his seat on the end of the bed. He took the key card for room 334 from the pile lying on the table and snagged a slice of pizza from the box that stood open beside the cards. He then headed off to the solitude of his own room.
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Portland Police Detective Daniel St. Clair cut the engine of the unmarked Ford police car he was seated in and looked out through the windshield at the dimly lit street up ahead. He had just come from paying a visit to Traveler's Pub. The visit had not been a social one but instead it had been an assignment. However, not an assignment from his boss down at the police department. This assignment had come from his other boss, the one within The Wheel.
He had become involved with the organization years prior when his little brother had been badly wounded while on his very first tour of duty in Afghanistan. When Drew had come home he needed serious help, both medical and psychological, and his recovery rapidly became bogged down by red tape.
Daniel had been approached by Drew's roommate at the rehab facility, an Army sergeant who had also been injured in Afghanistan. He offered to connect Daniel up to an outfit that could help clear the way and get Drew the help he so desperately needed. That organization had been The Wheel and they had done right by he and his brother. Now some years later the police detective was actively involved in protecting its mission so it could do for others what it had done from them.
St. Clair had been instructed to quietly check out one of the pub's employees. A man named Jack Cutter. He had been directed not to make any contact or draw a lot of attention to himself if possible. And that he would be rewarded additional compensation if he managed to capture a quality photo of Cutter.
Unfortunately, by the time he had arrived at Traveler's and buddied up to the owner two feds had already been there and chased Cutter off. The owner, Bruce Seavey, didn't expect him back since the man had taken off in the middle of a shift with two navy cops on his tail.
Not to mention Cutter had taken some cash as he had hightailed it out the back door. But that was not an issue with the owner since it had been the same amount as the paycheck he was due the next day anyway. From what St. Clair gathered that was not unusual. Seavey had not straight out admitted to it but it was pretty clear that Cutter was paid under the table and didn't appear in any of the business' books.
Daniel wasn't sure exactly why his boss wanted information and photos of this Cutter guy. But he had learned to take the assignments as offered and not press too hard.
He suspected that it might have something to do with the Scout Order that had been issued throughout The Wheel quite a few months prior. The Scout Order, The Wheel's equivalent to law enforcement's BOLO, had been issued nationwide and was earmarked as high priority. The Hub, the leadership core of the organization, was looking for someone with a vengeance. St. Clair suspected that the Scout Order and his assignment were linked.
After discovering Cutter had fled Daniel continued to chat up the pub owner and found out where Jack Cutter lived. He was now parked down the block from the white building on the corner of Morning Street which Seavey had described. He had not known the street number.
Given his suspicions that his assigned visit to Traveler's and the high priority Scout Order were connected he decided it was best to contact his boss who was one of the Hub leaders for further instructions before proceeding into Cutter's residence.
He pulled his cell phone out and made the call to his superior.
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Billy Greene set his phone down on the table in front of him. Danny St. Clair had reported in on his assignment and the update had been very interesting. He had instructed St. Clair to check out Cutter's apartment to collect any identifying information he might come across. And also that if Jack Cutter happen to return home while he was there he was to detain him and call for further orders.
As Billy reviewed the detective's story inside his head he rose from his chair and wandered towards the window. His gaze skimmed over the lights of Boston as he evaluated the situation.
It had all started a while back when one of the Spokes who were kind of like middle management in The Wheel had alerted him and the other leaders to a potential problem. The Spoke, Elliot Thompson, lived out in Denver and had reported that one day while out on a jog he had seen a man who strongly resembled the NCIS agent that had, a few years back, infiltrated The Wheel.
Normally, the report might not have held much weight especially considering Anthony DiNozzo had supposedly been killed at the organization's command. What had given the sighting credibility was the fact that before being a resident of Denver Thompson lived in Virginia. He had met DiNozzo several times when the agent was a Spoke himself and still in the good graces of The Wheel. And, therefore, it had been decided that more intel and follow up was necessary.
While the leaders made use of favors owed them by some of the most powerful people in the country in an effort to gather intel a Scout Order was put out organization wide. The order described the man they were looking to locate and gave the directive to not alert their target he had been noticed. It also noted that the man may have altered his appearance and be using an alias.
At first there were very few reports coming in regarding the order. But more recently after a string of many months the sightings had picked up in number. A list had been compiled and as it was added to one particular location began to stand out – the city of Portland, Maine. There was a considerable presence in the region due to the fact that there used to be a naval base less than hour north of the city. Of the branches of the military the Navy was the most well represented one inside The Wheel so the location of the base meant more eyes on the lookout.
Greene clenched his hands into fists. The major screw up of those two newbies down in Virginia meant that NCIS and, more significantly, Agent Gibbs now had possession of a copy of the list of the people who could possibly be a very much alive Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. All those two rookies had to do was go to Devon's apartment and retrieve some documents that were hidden in a hollowed out shelf in a bookcase. But they had managed to mess it up royally by first being witnessed by Gibbs and his second in command and then by losing the documents to them. The pair was lucky they were closely related to one of senior leaders or it would have been much worse on them in the aftermath.
He relaxed his hands as a thought occurred to him. Perhaps something good could come of it. Their research on Leroy Jethro Gibbs revealed that the man was like a bull in a china shop when he set out on a mission he took personally. With the list in hand the NCIS agent just might do the legwork for them. And, unknowingly, he could lead them directly to DiNozzo if he really was alive.
Then Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo would be acquired and subsequently interrogated to see what information he had provided to those not in line with the organization's interests.
Once that was completed the agent would be disposed of for real this time. He would be made an example to others that false loyalties, secret agendas, and malicious intentions would not be tolerated by The Wheel.
"I must alert the others," Greene stated quietly as he retrieved his phone from the table.
If Anthony DiNozzo was alive he wouldn't continue to be that way for long.
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Even from a distance Tony could tell that the dark colored Ford parked up the block a ways was an unmarked police vehicle. There was someone seated in the driver's seat. However, the street was too dimly lit to make out any details of the person.
Remaining in the shadows between two houses he shifted his gaze from the car to the building on the corner. He had known that coming back to his apartment to grab a few things might not pan out but he had to try. Clearly it wasn't going to happen.
He had already staked out his Jeep for a bit on the off chance it had remained undetected. The vehicle seemed to have been safe to approach. No one was watching it and it seemed undisturbed – at least from a distance. By the time he had checked on it many of the parking spots surrounding it had emptied due to the end of the work day.
But there had still been a lot of people passing close by in cars and on foot and he had decided it wasn't worth the risk right then. He might check on it as the night progressed. If the opportunity presented itself he might retrieve the vehicle. But he wouldn't keep it long, only long enough to get out of the city. Then he would get rid of it and find another means of transportation to his next locale.
He continued to watch the occupant of the car. Within only a few moments the driver's side door opened and a man about Tony's own age climbed out. He was nearing six feet tall and had a solid build to him. He didn't look familiar. By the way the man moved Tony could tell he wore a weapon on his right hip. This was definitely a cop.
The man strolled up the street then cut across the side yard of Tony's apartment building. He stopped when he reached the bank of postal boxes that stood near the corner of the building. Tony didn't miss the subtle surveying the man's gaze did checking to see if anyone was watching. Finding no one he removed a small case from his back pocket and pulled something from it. It wasn't until the man started to work the lock on the first box that Tony realized it was a lockpick kit. Apparently not finding what he was looking for in the first box he moved on to the next and repeated the action until he reached the box for apartment number 209.
Tony realized then what the man was looking for. Each box had a label which was taped on the inside of the door to the box to assist the postal carrier with delivery. They had been placed there by the landlord. Probably what had stopped the cop on that box was the fact that the label had been removed. The man took a second glance at the number on the front of the door to that box. He then closed it and looked at all the others. Unfortunately, Tony's box which was number 209 would be the only one without a label since the building was filled to capacity. Perhaps he should have put a fake label in there when he had removed the one the landlord had made with the name Jack Cutter. But what was done was done. Hindsight was twenty twenty after all.
The man visually checked the area again before walking away from the boxes and disappearing down the alleyway that led to the back of the building. Undoubtedly, intending to find a point of entry and then make his way up to Jack Cutter's apartment.
Tony knew in his gut this man was no ordinary cop. This cop was part of The Wheel.
He couldn't risk being out in the open any longer tonight. His plan to check back in on the Jeep and then if that didn't pan out possibly explore getting out of town on a bus would have to be placed on hold. His last plan had been to see if he could wrangle or bargain his way on a boat leaving the harbor. But now even that last resort was too risky. If the cop had tracked him this closely it was likely he had others keeping their eyes open for him around town.
Escaping the city was going to be incredibly tricky with a local cop keeping watch. He resigned himself to the fact he may need a little assistance in pulling it off.
Tony turned away from the street where his apartment building was located and made his way down the darkened narrow space between two neighboring houses. A moment later he came out on the next street over. After checking to see if anyone was around and finding it deserted he made his way southward towards the bay. On the way there he would place a single call on his burn phone then toss it into the ocean and pray the call out for help wasn't already too late.
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Tobias Fornell slipped into the driver's seat of the FBI issued sedan. Nothing like hunting down a list of pedophiles to make for a excruciatingly long day that he would rather forget the details of permanently. But the outcome had been worth remembering. Dead or in custody. Every last one on the list that they had started out with now fit into one of those two categories.
He took a moment to savor the warmth which a sip of his coffee provided before placing it in the cup holder and pulling out the keys to the car. He was about to turn the key in the ignition when one of his cell phones began to ring. The ringtone indicated it was a private line.
Choosing the ringing over the key he grabbed the phone from his jacket pocket. He looked at the caller id. The display showed that the origin of the call was unavailable. Disguised callers always had him torn. They inevitably piqued his curiosity but sometimes by answering he got more than he bargained for. More often than not they only meant one thing and that was trouble. But every once in a while there was a gem in the bunch though.
"Yeah!" he stated answering the phone.
"I could use some help up here!" the rather agitated caller on the other end of the line responded.
"What's going on?" he asked. The tension was evident in his voice. He hadn't bothered to try and hide it. He had recognized the caller's voice instantly. They were forgoing the usual banter, no sarcastic laced greeting, no playful digs like there used to be each time they encountered one another back in the old days. If this man was calling him then something was seriously wrong.
"Let's put it this way. A mutual acquaintance of ours has picked up my trail. He doesn't know it yet. If you prefer to keep it that way then you are going to have to help out my cause here," Tony Dinozzo replied.
"Son of a bitch! How in the hell did that happen?"
"You're asking me? I've been out of the loop for how many freaking years. All I know is he showed up at my place of employment. Good thing for back doors. Not to mention good thing I can still out maneuver our younger acquaintance."
"Sure you lost 'em?"
"Yes I'm sure I lost them."
"Just asking. You don't have to get snippy."
"Being snippy is the least of my problems. And if you don't help me you'll hear something a hell of a lot harsher than that."
"Alright. I get it. You got a place to be?"
"Yeah. Probably not for long though."
"Give me twenty four hours."
"Twenty fours hours? That long. What are you retired now?"
"You just stay disappeared. I'll take care of it."
"I'll keep my end. You make sure you keep yours."
"I'm good for it Eddie," the FBI agent stated confidently. But the words of reassurance weren't the most valuable ones. Calling him Eddie had been. It was one of their codes conveying the time and place of their meet. It meant a half mile north of the main post office in whatever city or town Tony was currently in one hour after the office had closed on the following day. A post office was the one thing that nearly every town would have that could be used for a point of reference. If for some reason the half mile part wasn't possible they had a prioritized list of alternative directions or distances to follow. They also had several alternatives to the post office in a pinch.
And with that the call was disconnected. Fornell blew out a heavy breath, stowed the phone back in his pocket, and started the engine. Shortly he would be in the air or on the road in a desperate attempt to keep their secret and their mutual friends safe.
He had one stop first though. He had to find out where it was Gibbs had taken off to that had prompted the call. Fornell had been tied up with his little hunting expedition across Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania and had been out of the loop for nearly two days. Tony's location hadn't been a safe thing to discuss over the cell phone so it was on the FBI agent to figure out. They had code for towns and addresses as well but the phone call had already been extremely risky and Tony had told him enough. He just needed to follow Gibbs.
Tony must be in a real bind to have made that call. It had been years since they had actually spoken. Most of their communication had been prearranged drop type exchanges at times when DiNozzo was having real trouble getting a hold of something he needed.
And those had progressively dropped off in the last two years to the point where Fornell had not expected to ever hear from the other man again. The FBI agent had narrowed down the reason for no contact for such a prolonged period of time to two possibilities. Dinozzo had either severed all ties and become a ghost of his former self out there on the run or The Wheel had discovered what they done and had killed him for real. Fornell had to confess that relief had washed through him when he had first heard the younger man's voice on the other end of the line. He was shamed to admit it but he had begun to believe that Tony was dead at the hands of The Wheel and that he would never know for sure how he died or where his remains were located. And that it was on him for having pulled the NCIS agent into all of this in the first place.
Tobias Fornell swallowed down hard and silently thanked whatever force out there that had been watching over Gibbs' boy. Because surely there was not enough luck out there to cover how fortunate they had been thus far.
Fornell was the only one who knew Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was alive and he intended to keep it that way. Having to keep silent while the NCIS team had grieved their friend had been much harder than he had anticipated. He must have reminded himself thousands of times that better they suffer through their grief than be killed themselves as a way of getting to DiNozzo.
He shook his head as the regret tried to creep in. There had been no other choice he reminded himself. His involvement had been undetected by their targets and the NCIS agent had been backed into an impossible corner by The Wheel.
The younger man had been vehemently resistant at first to the idea of faking his own death. By laying out their options in gritty graphic detail regarding how each way the situation could end Fornell had finally convinced him. The actual faking of DiNozzo's death had not gone quite as planned but they had managed to pull it out in the end. It had been way too close though. And the bullet hole in DiNozzo certainly hadn't been part of their plan.
Tony's cover story had somehow been blown and The Wheel had given him a choice. Either align with The Wheel for real which included proving his allegiance in a most horrific way or The Wheel would work their way down his list of friends and loved ones until he got his answer to them right.
Unfortunately, the threats had been presented in such a way that they were of little to no use as leverage to pin anything on the group. Their only possible out had been to make The Wheel believe that the NCIS agent was dead. And, in turn, the only way to ensure the safety of his friends and their families was for them to believe it too.
It had been Fornell who had been the one to break the news to Gibbs. At first the former marine had been unconvinced that DiNozzo had perished in the bay. Fornell had thought of this ahead of time and added details to the story of what had happened that had helped sealed it more firmly in reality. One of these details was that Fornell had been there when it happened – he had been witness to it.
Still even then Jethro had resisted it. The only thing that Tobias could think of that finally forced the other man to come to the conclusion that Tony was really gone was the passage of days then months then finally years.
"Dammit Gibbs! I swear if you get us all killed I'm going to be really pissed!" Tobias declared as he put the vehicle in gear and pressed his foot down hard on the gas pedal. He had to find out where they were in a hurry and get there before everything went horribly wrong. Because the potential cost of what had been set in motion was a price he wasn't willing to pay.
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From the shadows Tony did a visual scan of the area surrounding the building that stood diagonally across the narrow street from where he was stationed. The late hour meant there were few people out and about in the city but it was better to take the time to ensure there was no one around.
When he was comfortable with the look of things he darted across the street and headed for the side of the building. Once there he was protected in the shadows again so he slowed his pace. Staying vigilant for any indication someone might be nearby he worked his way around to the back. Hearing and seeing no sign that anyone was present he picked the lock on the rear door and slipped inside.
The three story building was empty and appeared to have been that way for quite a while. Best he could tell it had been a business at one time based off the items that had been left behind. It was located on a side street not too far from the waterfront. The street dead ended into the back parking lot of a large warehouse. Tony suspected that its location in the run down industrial area may have contributed to the fact that the business was no longer operating. It certainly wasn't the nice side of town. But that was okay with him. The forgotten building suited his purposes rather nicely.
Several moves ago, maybe back in St. Louis or had it been Denver, he had started setting up what he considered safe houses. They weren't your typical federal issues safe houses. They were more like the kind bank robbers would hold up in old time movies.
Upon arriving in a new place he would scout out buildings such as this one which he could use in emergencies. He then would select two or three out of what was available. It was amazing how many forgotten buildings you could find in one city when you started looking. Of course, not all of them fit his purposes and some, well, they may have been forgotten by most but that didn't mean they were unoccupied.
But this one had proven squatter free after several stints of staking the place out over a period of time. That didn't mean he wasn't going check the place anyway on the off chance a new tenant had taken up residence.
With the flashlight from his key chain and his gun in hand he cleared each and every room. Once he had confirmed he was alone Tony allowed himself to relax a little. He holstered his weapon back on his leg then made his way back to the small windowless office type room at the far rear corner of the building.
The room was crammed with old chairs and metal file cabinets and other discarded items. Tony made quick work of clearing away a pile of cardboard boxes which left him facing the brick covered back wall of the room. Taking the knife from his belt he squatted down facing the wall.
Nine up and six over from the right corner he recalled silently as he counted out the individual bricks with the tip of his knife. When he found the right one he placed his fingertips on it and tested it – still loose. It needed a bit of help though so using his knife to pry it free he had it out quickly enough. The other eight lower on the wall and those off to the sides for the most part came out at about the same rate.
So within a few minutes his knife was once again concealed in his belt and the flashlight from his key chain was back in his hand. For its small size the flashlight illuminated a fair portion of the hole he had created in the wall.
Peering inside he was relieved at what he found. The extra large industrial strength garbage bag he had hidden there weeks and weeks ago was there and looked to be in good condition. Grabbing hold of the black plastic he tugged it free of the hole. The movement kicked up a cloud of dust and Tony sputtered a little while the debris danced around in the air.
"They really should fire their housekeeper," he whispered jokingly. His mood had lifted considerably with the sight of the supplies he had stored away here. He had done the same at the other safe house he had selected so that if something happened to this one he would have another chance at it. Most of all it meant he wouldn't die of hypothermia or go without food and water. Looking at the bag he realized that apparently he had gotten a little carried away with sealing it up. The opening had been tied then duct taped to the point it would take his knife to get into it.
A few minutes later he had gotten through the tape and the double layers of plastic and had the contents of the bag laid out on the floor. And he had gotten lucky because the bag was intact which meant no little critters had nibbled on them or even that there weren't any little critters still hidden away inside. He really wasn't all that fond of potential disease carrying critters ever since the plague.
He patted a hand over the cloth of the sleeping bag ensuring it was dry which, thankfully, it turned out to be. It was October in Maine and the weather forecast had indicated the overnight lows would be unseasonably cold the next few nights. If thirties was typical as the forecaster had indicated than he hated to think what unseasonably cold meant temperature wise. The chill had already taken a hold of his body just standing outside across the street for a short while. And the temperature in the interior of the building wasn't much better.
Next he skimmed the beam of his flashlight over the large hiking pack. The pack was the kind intended for extended treks and, therefore, would hold quite a few items. It too seemed intact and free of any critter tampering. The third and last item was a duffel bag which he had packed with several changes of clothes. The large pouch type pockets on each end of it contained bottles of water.
Returning his attention to the pack he unzipped the front compartment enough to peek inside. Shining the flashlight in it revealed that both the packaged and the non perishable foods he filled it with were in good shape. He checked the other compartments of the pack refreshing his memory on the items each contained. Keys items included a large flashlight, batteries, cigarette lighters, several knives, a couple boxes of ammo, a 9mm firearm, a first aid kit, pepper spray and lastly some cash.
Tony blew out an exhausted exhale. He had worried a little on the way over if everything would be intact since it had been a while between checks on the building and his supplies. There was the other safe house which had the same items hidden away but it would have been quite a trek on foot to get over there. So he was relieved that he could rest here for the time being.
In fact now his body was so tired it ached. He had been so focused and on the move for so many hours the physical impact was only now hitting him that he was able to stay still. Despite his weariness he doubted he would rest much for the remainder of the night. But at least he would be warm and fed. Tomorrow he would hopefully connect up with Fornell and make some progress on a way to make it safely undetected out of the city.
He unrolled the sleeping bag and wrapped it around his shoulders, holding it together with one hand. Instantly he felt the chill in his body lessen. With his free hand he fished a package of trail mix out of his pack – not exactly an entree from a five star restaurant but as hungry as he was it suited him just fine. Then he grabbed a bottled water from the duffel bag.
Still a bit restless Tony walked out of the small room. He made his way down the hall and came out into a larger more open area. There was a big wooden desk next to one of the windows so he headed to it. Pulling the sleeping bag more snugly around his body he sat down on the top of the desk, set down the water, and then ripped opened the food package.
He slowly ate from the bag of trail mix while staring up into the night sky outside the window.
"I'm sorry about this Boss but I have to make sure I've got your six! Even if you don't know it," Tony whispered out into the stillness of the room and up at the sky. Taking a glance at his watch he discovered it was already 0130 hours. Most of the city was asleep by now. He was one of the few still awake. Gibbs would be amongst them as well – probably sitting watch in a darkened hotel room somewhere. Tony smiled at the thought. Just knowing they were in the same city made him feel less alone.
"Get some rest Boss. I've got your six," he offered softly out to the night.
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Leroy Jethro Gibbs carefully turned the knob on the door that separated his hotel room from the adjoining one. He opened the door a quarter of the way and let his vision adjust to the darkness in the next room. A sliver of light from the single small lamp he had left on in his own room provided a bit of assistance in surveying the area of the other room near the two beds.
His newest agent, Moore, was sleeping on his side facing away from the door. The only thing that indicated it might have been hard won sleep was the fact the younger man had a pillow over the back of his head and up over to cover his ear completely. The rest of his face was visible but the arm rested on top of the pillow holding it in place against his head showed this positioning had been deliberate. He had to give the kid credit he had managed to fall asleep despite the considerable snoring coming from his bunk mate in the next bed.
Gibbs shifted his gaze to the right and observed his senior field agent for a moment. McGee was sprawled out on his back and with the exception of the snoring, which was most likely caused by swelling and the pain medication Gibbs had seen him take earlier, he seemed okay. He would give Tim a little more uninterrupted sleep before he had to wake him for a concussion check. The image of his agent lying on the ground motionless and bloody flashed through his mind for an instant. He swallowed down hard in its wake then closed the door on the sleeping agents.
Back in his own room he walked to the window, clicking off the light on his way by it. The drapes were open slightly and an orange glow from the streetlights outside filtered in. Gibbs sat down in the armchair near the window, rested his head back, and gazed out into the night sky.
His body was tired but he doubted he would sleep much in the remaining hours before dawn. Between the checks every few hours on Tim and the way his gut was clenched there was little point in lying down.
He took a quick glance over at the alarm clock on the table beside the bed. It was already 0130 hours. He tore his gaze away from the illuminated digits as realization gripped.
Midnight had passed by.
October 17th was gone.
And so was Tony.
"I'm going to get the bastards who took you away, Tony. If it's the last thing I do. I promise I will not stop until it's done," he whispered up at the sky as he fought down the tears that threatened to rise.
To Be Continued...
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Author's Notes...
To those that guessed Fornell – nice job!
I realize this was a long chapter but I hope it answered some of your questions.
And I couldn't resist responding to the inquiry regarding the potential for a good ole Tony whumping. So I consulted my Magic 8 Ball and look at that it predicted ….Outlook Good!
Thanks so much for reading! Appreciate the reviews.