Chasing Jack

by TC1097

The NCIS team believes Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo to be deceased. But a new lead they uncover on a case may be all it takes to open the door for them to learn the truth about what really happened.

8. Chapter 8

Chasing Jack

Chapter Eight

Sacred Heart Church stood at the corner of Ash Street and Granite Way. Fornell looked up from the sign in front of the building and briefly glanced up at the old brick structure. Even at night he could clearly see it had once been a landmark here in the city. Its traditional design showed its longevity and Tobias concluded that it was likely one of the older churches around. Now, unfortunately, it looked to have fallen into disrepair. He dropped his gaze back to the sidewalk and street up ahead.

His pace was leisurely and he had looked around at the buildings and the area now and again to appear as casual as possible. But he always retained the tall hooded figure within his sight if only just his peripheral vision.

DiNozzo was clad in jeans, work boots, a brown hooded jacket, and Fornell had noted a baseball cap when they had bumped shoulders. But he had not gotten a look at the younger man's face. He found himself wondering if the former NCIS agent was in good health. He imagined that being constantly on the move and trying to stay hidden could wear on a guy after a while. And it had been years since he had last seen the other man.

Tobias prayed he found Tony physically well because he was not sure if he could bear to send the younger man back out on the run by himself if he was ailing. His concern caught him a bit off guard. He wondered where along the way it had developed. Maybe it was the fact that he was all Tony had as a lifeline, the sole connection to a past which he had so reluctantly given up. Or maybe it was simply his own guilt gnawing at him.

They had covered another full block and crossed an intersection before the figure up ahead ducked into an alleyway off to the left. The FBI agent subtly scanned the surrounding area and by the time he reached the alley himself he had seen nothing that raised any red flags. So he too quickly left the sidewalk and headed down the dimly lit passage between what appeared to be two boarded up buildings.

The faint glow from the lights back out on the street was enough to guide his way. And despite some shadowed areas he was able to make out the silhouette of the man walking up ahead of him.

At the back corner of the building a fence immediately began. A few feet along it DiNozzo stopped and then disappeared through what must have been a gap in the boards of the fence. Fornell discovered this was in fact the case as soon as he got to that point. Just as the younger man had done a moment earlier Tobias ducked down and slipped through the space where there were two broken boards that left a sizable hole.

Straightening up he found himself in a fence enclosed area at the rear of the building. He also found himself only a handful of feet from DiNozzo who was squatted down in front of the back doorway to the building. He was working at picking the lock.

"So you've taken to hanging around dark alleyways have you?" Fornell asked with a bit of a smile in his voice.

"Pretty much. The glamorous life of a man on the run," Tony replied quietly without looking up from the doorknob. Fornell suspected that even if he had the hood and the baseball cap would have completely shadowed his face. He still hadn't gotten a proper look at the other man.

Tony reached up and tested the knob on the door. Finding his lock picking successful he stood up and pulled opened the door. Before entering into the darkened interior he gestured with his hand for Fornell to follow. Seeing that Tony dug a small flashlight from his pocket and then pulled a 9mm from his waistband the FBI agent followed suit pulling his own weapon out from under his coat. He would have to rely on DINozzo's light though to guide him.

Silently they made their way inside with Tony in the lead. Fornell could tell by the way DiNozzo moved swiftly and effortlessly through the maze of hallways and rooms that he had been here before. Probably more than once. It hadn't been necessary to speak it so Tobias knew they were simply checking to make sure the building was clear of unwanted company before they could speak openly.

After they had reached and cleared the fifth room on the second floor and all those that came before it Tony's posture relaxed and he holstered his weapon. At first Tobias was a bit reluctant to store his away but when Tony turned without any hesitation and headed back down the hallway they had just come along he realized maybe he was being a tad paranoid. DiNozzo seemed comfortable now. The man knew this place and was confident of its safety. So as he trailed behind the younger man down the hallway he too holstered his weapon.

They passed back by the stairs and went into the second room on the left. Finally Tony stopped moving and Fornell spoke up.

"How you holding up, kid?" the FBI agent inquired. The other man turned around towards him but his face was still not visible. He responded after a short silent beat.

"Well, I'm not dead yet. And I haven't ended up in a psych ward. And today I managed to remember my real name. So where does that fall on the scale of incredibly amazingly fantastic to horrendously unequivocally horrible?" he asked in a tone that was mostly light. But he had not managed to completely hide the strain in his voice.

"Sorry can't help you there. I left my flow chart for that scale in the car. Good to see you DiNozzo."

"Likewise. I don't believe I just said that."

"Hadn't heard from you in a while. A long while."

"You thought I was dead, didn't you?" Tony tossed out as he moved to the closet that was located in far corner of the windowless room. He shone the beam of his flashlight around the floor inside it then reached up and retrieved a hammer from the top shelf. Clearly he had known it was there since the flashlight beam had never landed upon it. Fornell gathered he had been the one to put it there in the first place.

"When did I say that?" the FBI agent questioned in reference to the suggestion that he thought Tony was dead.

"Didn't have to it was written all over your face."

"It's pitch black in here how'd you manage that?"

"You said it yourself. I've taken to hanging out in dark alleyways. Grown accustom to seeing in the pitch blackness I guess."

"Well, you did go quiet for quite a long stretch there. It was either dead or you severed all ties and put Anthony DiNozzo Jr. to rest once and for all," Fornell explained.

"That first one nearly happened a couple times. Nothing to do with The Wheel though. Just my magnetism for bodily harm. But mostly the second thing. Did my best to separate from my old identity. Had to. Living in both worlds was – well – not good."

"What happened?"

"You mean the nearly getting me dead part, right?" Tony questioned as he took the hammer which was grasped in his hand and began to use the claw side to pry up one of the floorboards in the closet. The FBI agent wasn't sure he even wanted to ask what the younger man was doing so he just answered the question.

"That'd be the one."

"Well, let's see! While working at a ski place in Washington I almost got killed by an avalanche. Like in Avalanche, 1978, with Rock Hudson and Mia Farrow. Or that disaster flick Avalanche Alley. In Tulsa a tornado nearly took me out. It was very surreal. Very Wizard Of Oz-ish. Not sure I'll ever be able to watch that movie again. And I guess Twister is out too. I pissed off this massive flock of crows in St. Louis and I kid you not they chased me. The Birds. Alfred Hitchcock. 1963. There's another movie that's out. Then in Savannah I was working on the back green at a golf course when a sudden thunderstorm rolls in and I nearly get my ass fried by lightning racing back to the clubhouse. Can't think of a movie on that one but I'm off my game somewhat. Let's see...," Tony said but his voice trailed off while he pondered silently.

"There's more? Kid, you are more than a magnet for bodily harm," Tobias declared. DiNozzo had finished prying up one board and was working on a second as he spoke again.

"Abby use to tell me I must have pissed off the cosmos in a former life. I'm beginning to think she had a point."

"If not the cosmos then at least Mother Nature," Fornell suggested.

"Yeah she does seem to have a bee in her bonnet about something I did."

"Sounds like you've had quite the couple of years."

"It wasn't all bad I guess. It had it's moments. But what I wouldn't have given to have been working cases and running down leads with the team this whole time!" Tony stated. He dropped the hammer on the floor and tugged at the board which finally gave and came loose from its neighbors.

"Nothing worse than a born cop who can't be a cop anymore," Tobias commented as he moved across the room to look into the closet where DiNozzo was knelt down.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" the younger man snapped and twisted to look up Fornell. He suspected if he had been able to see Tony's face he would have found himself being glared at.

"Hold up there. I didn't mean anything by it," he responded to the former NCIS agent who had already returned his attention to the task at hand.

"Ha! Got it!" Tony said triumphantly.

"Hold this!" he continued and held up the flashlight for the FBI agent to take from him. Tobias took the light and shone its beam towards the hole the other man had created in the floor. He could see there was something wrapped in heavy duty black plastic stowed away under the floorboards. Tony reached down and tugged an extra large industrial type plastic bag out of the tight space between the floor and the ceiling boards below. Standing up he dragged it out of the closet while Tobias stepped aside to clear the way. The FBI agent couldn't help but comment.

"First dark alleyways. Now duct taped black plastic bags under floorboards in boarded up buildings. What's next? Clandestine meetings in smoke filled back rooms of biker bars."

"Been there. Done that," Tony replied flatly. Somehow Fornell knew he hadn't been kidding. He watched as the other man took out a knife and cut into the black plastic. A few minutes later DiNozzo had pulled a large hiking pack, a duffle bag, and a sleeping bag out and placed them on the floor.

"I'm guessing that didn't just happen to be there," Fornell commented.

"Safe house. I set up two here in the city. Spent last night at the first one. This is humble abode number two."

"Good thinking. Clearly you have got this done to a science."

"Done it in the last four towns. This is the first time actually had to use one," Tony replied. He unzipped one of the compartments of the pack and dug around for a few seconds. He pulled something out. Tobias heard a click and a mini camping lantern came to life.

"And there was light!" DiNoxxo announced. The little lantern illuminated enough of the room that Tobias shut off the flashlight and handed it back to the younger man. Tony took it and tucked it into the hiking pack. He then pulled a few more items out from another compartment and stood up. He brought the lantern and the other items over to a rather rickety looking metal table which stood against the far wall and set them down. Two equally rickety looking chairs were stationed on either side of the small square table.

"It ain't the Ritz but feel free to try and make yourself comfortable," Tony offered. Tobias took him up on the offer and moved to the table. After brushing some of the dust away from the seat of the chair he sat down and surprisingly found the chair more sturdy than it looked.

DiNozzo sat down across from him with the lantern between them on the table. He pushed back the hood of his jacket and removed the baseball cap. He discarded it on the table next to the light. Tobias couldn't help but react verbally.

"Wow. Blond hair huh? It's really...ummm...," Tobias commented upon getting his first look at the younger man.

"It's really what?" Tony inquired playing at being offended.

"Blond."

"Hey. What's wrong with it? It's very California surfer dude. Anyway, I was running out of colors," Tony replied and ran a hand through his already ruffled up golden blond hair.

"Colors?" Fornell questioned.

"To dye it. I've been through just about every shade. Couple of them more than once. At least I have enough hair to dye unlike some," DiNozzo came back with.

"Hey now! Is that any way to treat someone you're asking help from?"

"My bad. Old habits die hard."

'Well if you're going for the surfer look I guess the blue contacts were a no brainer."

"Another thing I am running out of colors on. Contact lenses," Tony replied.

Then they sat for a moment in silence. It looked like to Tobias that the other man simply needed a minute to be able to sit and catch his breath. It was good though because it gave the FBI agent a minute to look him over. He was relived to find the younger man in relatively good health. He appeared a bit leaner than the last time they had met but it was in an athletic way not a sickly one. And he looked worn out but who could blame him for that.

Tobias gave Tony a minute to just sit with his eyes closed and breath. He busied himself with the items the other man had placed on the table. There were several maps, a stack of transportation schedules, a notebook and a couple of pens. Fornell picked up the map of Portland and began looking it over. After a few still minutes Tony finally spoke but his voice was quiet and weary.

"I feel like I'm in a movie. Ya know like in...in...I am totally blanking here. I really am losing my mind. I've forgotten how to make movie references. Those ones earlier must have been the bottom of the barrel. This is my worse nightmare."

"Well, you are under some stress," Fornell commented without looking up from the map.

"True. Having Gibbs hunting you down would be stressful for anyone. And given what I did I bet he's out for my blood."

"Why? What did you do?" the FBI agent questioned and lifted his attention up away from the map to the man seated across from him.

"Ya know how yesterday I said I was sure I lost them?"

"Why do I feel like I am not going to like what I am about to hear?"

"Because you won't Fornell. It's going to make getting Gibbs off my tail really hard – if not impossible."

"Go on."

"McGee may have caught up to me."

"Did he see you?"

"Relax. I had a jacket on with the hood up covering my head. He had no idea it was me."

"What happened?" Tobias asked. Tony blew out a heavy breath then spoke up.

"Well there I am earning my pay – a fortune it was not. I'm in the back room of the joint -Traveler's Pub - and I look up to see Gibbs and McGee on the security monitor. They are right there in the next room. Needless to say after I was done freaking out I ran. Only the pub owner must have given me up or rather gave Jack Cutter up. My latest alias. Anyway, I hightail it out the back door with McGee on my ass. I come to a fence and while I'm climbing over it he catches up and grabs my leg. So we play tug of war for a while with me trapped halfway over the fence. McGee's got the leg where I have my gun secured. And I'm thinking this is not going to end well unless I get away like right then. Not even to mention that Gibbs is around someplace - probably circling around from the front."

"Sounds like a good old time. How'd you get away?"

"I kicked McGee in the face. He let go. And I went over the fence."

"So now not only is Gibbs on your trail he is royally pissed."

"Oh but it gets better."

"I don't think I even want to hear this," Fornell replied. He got up from the chair and began wandering the room in a near pacing manner.

"I'm pretty sure you don't."

"Great."

"After the whole Gibbs and McGee chase scene I made a go at getting back to my apartment to see if I could grab a few things. While I was staking it out to see if it was safe I saw an undercover cop hanging around then he checked the mailboxes. I'm guessing to get the apartment number for Jack Cutter. Then he disappears round back of the building probably to break in and search my place. Or ya know lay in wait to kill me."

"So now not only do you have a very pissed off Gibbs on your tail you have the cops."

"Oh! It gets worse."

"Worse? You're killing me here DiNutso."

"The Wheel."

"Come again?"

"The cop that was at my apartment. He was with The Wheel."

"You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"I think I need to sit down."

"Probably a good idea. Either you have been spending a lot of time at the North Pole or you've just gone really pale."

"You realize I came up here with three exit strategies for you and now I doubt any of them are any good. Not a viable one in the bunch."

"I've been on the run for four years. Do you really think I would have risked calling you if I thought it would be easy."

"A guy can dream, right?" Fornell proposed inside a feigned chuckle.

"That's an expensive luxury," DiNozzo replied. But Tobias noticed that the comment had no life to it. No teasing spark. Fornell stopped pacing and looked at the other man for a long silent moment. Tony finally broke under the scrutiny.

"What?" he asked.

"You're different DiNizzo."

"Well pretending to be imaginary people for four years will do that to a guy. At least it did to me. I changed identities like I changed my pants."

"I am sorr...," the FBI agent began to answer.

"Don't Fornell. Just don't!" Tony stated rather firmly cutting him off from finishing the apology.

"Okay. I won't. I mean it though."

"I know."

"The Wheel huh? Any idea how they picked up your trail? Or even how they knew you were alive?" Fornell inquired and found his way back to his chair and plopped down tiredly into it.

"Am I alive? Not feeling the alive thing much lately. Maybe I'm a zombie. Maybe that's it! I'm in a zombie flick."

"Nah. You're way too tan for that."

"Drove myself crazy – or more crazy – last night going over every move I have made since this all went down. And there's only one thing I can think of. Someone who knew me while I was in The Wheel saw me someplace and I didn't see them. I moved. I changed my identity. I altered my appearances. Over and over. It had to be someone who knew me. I should have left the country from the get go."

"Why didn't you? We talked about it. You always shot me down."

"I had a couple good opportunities. One of them could have gotten me down to the South American countries and I could have gotten lost in one of the larger cities. Or made a connection to get somewhere else. I don't know. Something held me back. It seemed so final. Might not have made much difference I guess. The Wheel does have an international presence. Not as strong as here but there's some. But I just couldn't seem to leave. Getting back in the country would have been real difficult if something had happened."

"To Gibbs and the team you mean?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Either way clearly I waited too long to get out of Dodge."

"Yeah that twenty twenty hindsight thing is a bitch, ain't it?" Tobias offered lightheartedly.

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse, Fornell?"

"I was going for better. What can I say I'm a caring guy," the FBI agent stated. To this the younger man just let out a chuckle and shook his head. So Fornell continued.

"Why didn't you tell me about The Wheel sooner? I could have accounted for it in my exit strategies."

"The call was already risky as it was. I wasn't about to start rambling on about them on a cell phone."

"I see your point. I guess I just hoped I could be of more use in getting you out of this jam. Because right now I have little that's viable."

"Why don't you lay out what you've got. Maybe with my knowledge of the city we can modify at least one so it's viable."

"Worth a try. Oh and these are for you," Tobias responded and pulled the thick envelope from where it was tucked inside his coat. He put it down on the tabletop and slid it over to the other man.

"What's this?" Tony asked and picked up the envelope to take a peek inside.

"Cash and some more ids for you. Hope it helps."

"Two of my favorite things these days. Thanks. There's not names like Bernie or Herman or Claude on these are there?"

"Not a Bernie in the bunch."

"Phew. Cuz I can't see myself pulling any of those off with a straight face."

"So Jack Cutter huh?"

"Yeah. And it's a alias I will never forget. He's the one got me in this jam. The one who Gibbs is probably hunting down as we speak. Do you know how he got on my trail anyhow?"

"Not exactly. But I'm certain it has something to do with the other piece of news I needed to tell you. Devon Davis is dead."

"You're kidding me?"

"Found dead in a run down apartment in Virginia. I was out of town when it happened. And Gibbs swooped in and ripped the case right out of the local PD's hands."

"So something linked to the Davis' case lead him to me. Or rather to Jack."

"Best I can gather yeah. Some piece of evidence or a witness maybe. I haven't spoken with him since I found out. Not a conversation I am looking forward to."

"I bet. Was he pissed? Ya know back then."

"Pissed is putting it mildly. I was lucky I walked away with just a black eye. Actually I'm lucky I could walk away at all. I don't think I've ever seen Jethro's face quite that shade of enormously pissed off."

"Are they...I mean...ya know...on second thought never mind," Tony began to ask but had stumbled to a change of heart by the end. Tobias knew what he was was asking though. He could see it in the younger man's eyes. So he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table to be a slightly closer then answered quietly but firmly.

"They're alive. That's what counts. Your sacrifice kept it that way," he offered. Tony cleared his throat before answering with a change of subject. As he spoke he pulled several folded pieces of paper from his jacket pocket.

"Before I forget this list is for you. It's some things I've recalled over the years about my time with The Wheel. Things that at first didn't seem important or useful. But now looking back on it might be worth checking into," he said and handed the papers over to the other man.

"Definitely take a look. Wouldn't be surprised if you hit upon something that seemed unimportant at that time that we could use now."

"Alright. I guess we should get down to business huh? I've got the cops, The Wheel and a fantastically pissed off Gibbs on my tail so it's time to get creative or maybe just desperate. I'm not sure which," Tony declared.

The pair settled in and went through the FBI agent's three plans. Then bounced around some other thoughts. What with the Wheel closing in and having a local cop on the payroll to boot use of any public transportation would be tricky. It was likely The Wheel had eyes keeping watch at all the typical points of exit. And it would be risky for Fornell to transport him since it would draw attention and possibly put the FBI agent in danger. They managed to rework one of Fornell's exit strategies that involved use of a marina just up the road a piece. The local cop probably had informants, Wheel or otherwise, watching Portland harbor. But if Tobias could get manage to get Tony two towns up the coast there was possible contact to utilize. Fornell had been looking to buy a boat from a little family owned boatmaking company up that way and knew some people to tap for information. They drafted out a few more alternate plan outlines. But the discussion kept coming back around to one thing. It was Fornell who voiced it this time around.

"I'm tending to agree with you here. Your vehicle might be your best out. I used an alias to come up here but with The Wheel watching it would be difficult for me to get you a new car. Risky."

"It would take a while to link the car to me since it's registered under Jonathan Cutters not Jack Cutter. My alias is Jonathan Cutter on paper. But to everyone I'm Jack. And I tacked the S on the end of the last name on some paperwork and managed to get it through. So those looking are looking for Jack Cutter not Jonathan Cutters."

"So it's decided. I'll go check out the Jeep. See if it's still there. See if it's being watched."

"Or if it's rigged to go boom."

"That too. Although I might not be able to check under the hood if there are people around. But I definitely can get a good look underneath."

"The street where it's parked has quite a bit of street and foot traffic. Under the hood might not be doable," Tony replied as he unhooked a spare key for the Jeep from his key ring and handed to the FBI agent.

"It's a dark gray Jeep Grand Cherokee. Maine plate RT423. It's parked midway down the block from the corner of Pine Street and Cross Court near a place called the Full Belly Deli."

"I'll see what I can manage. Do the best I can to see that's it's safe for you. In case it's no good we'll have to meet back up and go with the marina up the coast. Got a meet place? Probably shouldn't come back here."

"Been thinking on that. With Gibbs around might not be good to risk another meet if it's not necessary. So here's what I am thinking. Did you see the church a little ways back?"

"Yeah. Sacred Heart I think it was called."

"Yep. Take a left onto Ash Street at the corner where the church stands. There's this one show movie theater called The Spotlight Tonight."

"Sounds sketchy."

"It's kind of a hole in the wall but, boy, can they pick some great flicks for their one screen. They have fantastic popcorn too. Anyway, their doorway is kind of set back a little into the building so there's a small covered entryway. There's a metal box like the kind of mailbox you would hang beside the front door of a house. It's on the wall beside the doorway. Inside there are flyers for what the show of the week is going to be. If the Jeep is a go then come back through and stop and take a flyer. I'll be watching. If you stop I'll try for the Jeep. If it's not a go keep walking by the theater. We can meet at 0100 hours at the back of the church."

"Wish us luck!" Fornell teased.

"Very good luck to us!" Tony replied enthusiastically in jest.

"Now if I can just get out of this joint without falling down the stairs or running into any walls we'll be on our way."

"What kind of host would I be if I didn't show you out?" Tony said feigning being insulted.

"Lead the way!" the FBI agent responded.

Tony picked up the little lantern from the table and lead the way back down the hallway to the stairs. In silence they descended and then wove their way to the rear doorway which they had come through when they entered the building. They stopped at the closed door and turned to face one another.

The light from the lantern was enough for Tobias to catch the hint of sadness that flashed in the younger man's eyes at arriving at their parting. But it was fleeting and in a breath was gone. No doubt deliberately chased away by the man standing before him as he struggled to keep his emotions in check and take care of business. DiNozzo was tougher than most gave him credit for – even Fornell himself at one time. Even more likely by himself.

"Thanks for everything Fornell!" Tony said quietly and offered his hand out in front of him.

"Take care out there DiNoz – Tony," the FBI replied and accepted the offered hand. After a quick handshake he turned to leave but Tony clearing his throat stopped him.

"If the Jeep pans out you won't hear from me. I can't do this again. Have my old life brought to the surface. I can't keep a clear head with my old life mixed in. It's too...," he started then paused. Tony looked away off down the darkened hallway for an instant then back to Fornell.

"Hard. Painful," Tobias suggested.

"Something like that. Anyway, I was hoping you might hang onto something for me. Ya know just in case," Tony responded and pulled a single piece of folded paper from inside his jacket. He handed it to Fornell.

"What's this?" the FBI agent questioned.

"A letter. For my team. In case I don't make it."

"You'll make it, kid. If avalanches, tornadoes, crazed animals and lightning can't take you down then The Wheel doesn't stand a chance in hell."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll do my best to live up to it."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"Roger that."

"Keep your six DiNozzo!" Fornell instructed then slipped out through the doorway and out into the night.

o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o&o

"Around back!" Gibbs instructed Ziva and Moore as the team of four approached the white multi-unit building on the corner of Morning Street and Eastern Promenade. The warrant on Jack Cutter's apartment had come through – no doubt with a little influence or a call or two from Director Vance helping it along the way.

The landlord of the apartment building lived a few streets over. They had just come from paying him a visit. After skimming over the warrant the man who had a definite used car salesman aura about him had reluctantly given up a copy of the keys to the front door and Cutter's apartment.

Now the team leader and his senior field agent split off from Ziva and Moore as they all stepped up onto the sidewalk and headed towards the building. The other two went right and then turned off the sidewalk to head down the driveway towards the rear of the building. He and McGee went left and cut across the lawn.

In the event this Jack fellow got the bright idea to run from them again he wanted them to be prepared. So he and McGee would enter the front and David and Moore would head around back.

The building seemed quiet despite the hour. It was getting later in the evening and that usually increased the odds of a lot of residents being at home. It also increased the odds of a lot of innocent bystanders getting caught in the way if Cutter decided to shoot his way to escaping. They knew Cutter had a handgun. McGee had felt it strapped against the man's leg during their little tug of war match. He could also have more weapons at his place. The question was just how desperate Cutter might get and what would be his breaking point. Last thing Gibbs needed was for this to turn into a firefight. His gut still maintained that Cutter knew something and they needed to capture him alive.

Ever vigilant he and McGee entered in through the main door and located the stairs. Gibbs put up a hand to indicate that McGee should wait by the stairs. He then found the back entrance and let the other two agents in. He had instructed them earlier not to pick the lock so they could maintain by the book procedure on this one. Gibbs pointed out the back stairwell which he had located on his way to the door and the two younger agents headed up. Gibbs returned to McGee and they proceeded up the front stairs.

A few moments later all four met near the door that was numbered 209. Gibbs gestured for all of them to get against the wall. He and McGee took the left and the other two the right. Once in position Gibbs reached over and landed a solid knock on the door. When there was no movement inside he knocked again but with more force this time. Still no response.

"Jack Cutter. Federal agents! We have a warrant!" he called out. Seconds ticked by with no reaction. So finally Gibbs pulled the key from his pocket and while still standing clear of the door unlocked it. Weapons drawn they made entry and proceeded to clear the apartment. It didn't take long since the place was small – a bedroom, a small bathroom, and a combined kitchen and living room area. Jack Cutter was definitely not there.

Without even discussing it the four agents drifted in different directions. Each holstered their weapon and tugged on gloves. Moore took the bathroom. Ziva the bedroom. Gibbs and McGee took the main room with Gibbs working the kitchen area and Tim in the living room. The senior field agent was the first to speak.

"I guess this guy really doesn't like having his picture taken. Not a single photo here either so far."

"Probably has a real interesting reason for that too. I know I would like to hear it!" Gibbs replied as he searched the kitchen cabinets. McGee stopped moving and visually surveyed the room for moment then spoke.

"This Jack guy sure lives simply. Nice but minimal furniture. Clutter free. I don't see much of any paperwork around. A couple utility bills over there on the kitchen table but other than that no paper trail," he commented.

"Gee and why do you think that would be, McGee?" the team lead asked without looking up from his inspection of the contents of the refrigerator.

"Well, I guess...uh..."

"Think."

"He travels light. Ready to run."

"Bingo."

"Oh! See now here we go! A remote control. Might have prints. I mean really who cleans their remote," McGee commented.

"Get started on that. We'll need to see about lifting as many prints as we can or any DNA source you can find. Collect every little trace you can find. I want to know who this guy is," Gibbs instructed as he took out his pen flashlight and shone the beam about the kitchen in search of anything of use.

"Good luck with that. So far I haven't seen so much as a single smudged print – not even a hair. Usually the couch is a good place to find them but it looks like this couch has been gone over with tweezers. Even this remote is pretty clean. Nothing more than maybe a shred of a partial on the back. This guy is either very into cleaning or seriously paranoid." McGee stated glancing around the living room then over at his boss.

"Here in the kitchen too. This place has been wiped down regularly. And there's not even anything in the trash can."

"Trash day maybe?" Tim suggested.

"No. He's deliberately removing it probably daily if not more frequently. He's keeping the DNA and prints and any other identifying information down to as little as possible."

"Maybe in the dumpster?"

"We'll check but my bet is he's taking the trash off site and leaving it in someone else's dumpster," the team leader stated. After a silent beat McGee piped up.

"Very few personal items too. Except some books, mostly worn out hardcovers, over here on the bookcase. Surprisingly, there are some classics here," McGee replied as he moved to get a closer look at the bookcase and its contents. He picked up The Great Gatsby and flipped through it. Finding nothing he put it back and picked up The Count of Monte Cristo. This time he found something rather interesting tucked inside its pages.

"Boss, got something here."

"Hang on McGee!" Gibbs' muffled voice replied. The senior field agent looked into the kitchen area to see why Gibbs had been so hard to hear. He found the team leader on his back on the floor with his upper body inside the cupboard under the sink. McGee had no idea what the boss thought he would find in there but he wasn't about to question it.

"Okay," he replied and went back to the book in his hand. He closed it and laid it aside on the shelf. He selected a hardcover copy of 1984 and opened it. Nothing there in that one. He put it back in its spot and continued done the line of books.

He checked the inside of each one putting back those which produced nothing and setting aside those that contained something of interest tucked away inside. He had just slid Catcher in the Rye back into its place when he heard movement from the doorway that lead into the bedroom and the connected bathroom. He turned to find Moore coming through the doorway out into the living room and kitchen area. He was tailed by Ziva.

McGee noticed that Gibbs had come out from under the sink and was now at the kitchen table looking through the utility bills. Moore was the first to speak.

"Alright I might not be a shrink but, man, this guy Cutter he has issues."

"Such as?" Ziva questioned.

"Clearly you weren't the one going over the bathroom."

"But you were so what did you find?" she replied.

"It's not so much what I found as what I didn't find. For example, I didn't find a used toothbrush. Only ones still in the package. I didn't find any trash in the wastebasket not even a piece of lint. I didn't find a single hair in the combs I found. Even used my Swiss army knife to unscrew the drain cover in the tub. Most people forget to clean under there and it's a good place to find hairs. But nope he cleaned in there too. Either he's like way, way and I mean way OCD or he doesn't actually use the bathroom. And I am not sure which of those two options is more disturbing. Are we sure he actually lives here?" Moore explained. Ziva was the one to reply again.

"Well I did find some clothes in the bedroom closet. Mostly casual clothing. No suits or anything. So far no hairs or trace there either. The sheets and blankets on the bed must have been washed since he last slept in the bed. Nothing there either. There's a few boxes of ammo in the bed table drawer. Eagle Eye 9mm."

"There's a small caliber firearm taped behind the toilet," Moore offered.

"I found a 9 mil in a cereal box in the kitchen," Gibbs added from his spot standing by the table. McGee jumped right in after him.

"Me too. Pepper spray, small caliber weapon, and handcuffs in a couple of hardcover books. He cut out parts of the pages to fit whatever it was he was hiding inside. It's like something out of a movie," he commented. Ziva added on to the list.

"Yes I too found something. There's a baseball bat under the bed. And a knife between the top end of the mattress and the headboard. Another taped to the back of the mirror above the dresser."

"Lot of weapons. But otherwise clean as a whistle," McGee responded. Moore looked around the spotless organized living room and kitchen then spoke up.

"This place reminds me of Grandpa Teddy. He was kind of a neat freak. Always said the military made him that way. He also had weapons tucked away in places round the house too. I miss Too Tall."

"Too Tall?" Tim questioned.

"Yeah everybody used to call him Too Tall Teddy. He was six feet eight inches. His name was really Theodore but everybody knew him as Teddy. I miss him and Grammie Betty too. Boy, she was a wild one. They called her Machete Betty. Betty wasn't her real name either of course. It was Elizabeth but everybody called her Betty. Thinking of her reminds me I need to call my cousin Skippy."

"Does anyone in your family just go by their actual name?" Ziva inquired.

"Never really thought about it. I mean people call me Ro which is a nickname. Nobody ever calls me Roger."

"Perhaps because you got sick of hearing Roger Moore - James Bond jokes?" Tim proposed.

"Nope. They always just called me Ro even when I was little. No one ever called me Roger," he answered. After he finished speaking something in what the other agent had been saying clicked into place inside McGee's head and his face lit up.

"That's it. Ro, you are a genius!" he said as realization truly struck him.

"Okay. Thanks I think. Can I ask what I said that qualified me for that status?" Moore responded.

"His name! It's not Jack. Jack is his nickname! On paper he'd be John or Jonathan Cutter. Maybe Jacob Cutter. That's why I couldn't find much on him especially his car registration. This is great."

"Glad my genius was helpful to you," Moore said jokingly.

"Evidence isn't collecting itself," Gibbs commented.

"I did find a smudge on the dresser. Might be a partial print," Ziva offered. Gibbs voice followed hers.

"Okay everybody get to work. Photographs. Collect the weapons and ammo and anything else that might be useful. Any trace of prints even partials and anything that might have DNA. It's late so we'll start there and come back in the morning to talk to the neighbors and go over it again. Get a move on! I don't want to be here all night."

The other three agents ignited into to action all at the same moment and went back to the areas that they had been working previously. Gibbs stood at the island in the kitchen and looked around. Something was bugging him. Cutter had cleaned this place and not just of evidence of anything illegal. Well, spare the weapons with the serials missing that is – at least until Abby got her hands on them.

This man had scrubbed the place down to make it deliberately difficult to obtain any identifying information. The run of the mill criminal or even the average Joe off the street wouldn't know how to go about that successfully.

What really struck him hard was that this was the way he would have done it if he didn't want to be found. Cutter had done this in the way a military man or cop would have gone about it.

Jack Cutter was not who he had first appeared to be. There was something more complicated going on here. Gibbs only hoped he could figure it in time to find Cutter before The Wheel did.

He glanced at his watch. It really was getting late. They would work just a few more minutes then call it a night. He headed back into the kitchen to retrieve the firearm he had found earlier in that box of Frosted Flakes. There had also been some ammo in a butter container on the refrigerator door he would have to collect.

This Jack Cutter guy was a bit of a strange duck but he was sort of oddly endearing in how he went about things.

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A breeze had kicked up and Tobias stuffed his chilled hands into the deep pockets of his coat. He had just finished checking on Tony's Jeep. It was now a few streets behind him as he walked back towards their designated signal spot. The vehicle had looked good spare the parking ticket stuck under the wiper. He had glanced inside it and then, accidentally on purpose, he had dropped his keys so that he was able to get a look underneath when he retrieved them. And checked the vehicle as best he could without drawing attention to himself. Before even approaching it he had watched it from a distance for a while. No one else seemed to be watching it beside him.

Fornell had also noticed a sign that indicated there was no parking tonight on that street so that street sweeper could come through. Any vehicle still there at midnight would be towed. So DiNozzo would have to make a move for it shortly.

Noting the street signs up at the intersection he recalled the map Tony had showed him and realized he needed to take a left here. He had only just come around the corner when he saw the rented sedan with Gibbs seated at the wheel approaching the light at the intersection. Fornell glanced around but there simply wasn't anywhere he could duck into to get out of sight. The thought was broken by the screeching of brakes. The NCIS agent had spotted him. He had jerked the car to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street. Fornell stopped walking and watched as Gibbs put the car in reverse for a few feet and then shifted again and haphazardly pulled off the street near the curb. It wasn't even a parking space. The driver's side door flew open and Gibbs jumped out before the vehicle even settled. The others started to climb out but not as swiftly.

"Ah crap!" Fornell swore under his breath. It was like Gibbs had some kind of sonar or homing device or something. And it got really irritating sometimes. Before he could think on that any longer Gibbs was in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing here Fornell?" he questioned. There was a strong bite to the words. Tobias attempted to remain unfazed as he replied.

"What am I doing here? Well let's review shall we. I'm only out in the field for a mere two days and when I get back I find out Devon Davis is dead, you took over the case, and are racing around all over creation."

"Yeah. So? Your point?" Gibbs shot back.

"The Wheel is the FBI's. My case Gibbs. Not yours. Long before NCIS had any involvement. So I have dibs on any leads you might have acquired. I'm not letting you just swipe it right out from under my nose."

"Like hell. You had your chance and royally screwed it up. You cost me DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped.

"And if there was anything I could do to change the way things went down I would do it in a heartbeat. But it's done. The Wheel case belongs to the FBI. And NCIS needs to keep their noses out of it. Whatever lead you've picked up. It's mine. Go home Gibbs."

"Oh no! I'm not going anywhere Tobias. You want me gone because you know more than you are letting on. There's something here isn't there? Something you don't want me to find. Something that I am real close to finding and it's got you panicked."

"You've really gone around the bend with your paranoia haven't you Jethro? There's nothing I'm hiding. I just don't want you messing around in my case."

"If that were the truth - which it's not. You could have delivered that message with a phone call. But you didn't. You came all the way up here. Now you tell me why you're here or I swear you won't like what comes next. "

"What? You'll deck me. We've already been there. Why don't we try something new and different and you get your nose out of my case."

"Okay, maybe we should all take a step back and cool off," McGee interjected.

"Stay out this McGee!" both of the older men yelled at the same time.

"Right. Staying out of it."

"Okay. Okay. I did come up here because I was pissed you stuck your NCIS nose in my case. But there was something else."

"And?"

"A boat that's up here I'm thinking of buying and having delivered down to me back home. There's a great boatmaking company here in Portland. While I came up here to get you out of my business I figured I could check it out in person," Fornell stated. He figured might as well just use the truth, fudged a little by change of location, so that it wouldn't set off Gibbs' gut anymore than it already had been.

"Bullshit Tobias. You don't like sailing. Never even heard you talk about boats."

"I just don't care for the kind one builds in their basement. Doesn't mean I don't like the kind that you get already put together."

"I'm not buying it."

"Why are you so interested, Gibbs, in what I do? Maybe I came here to help. Ever think of that. But then again I don't know why I bothered it's not known that you are any good at accepting it. Don't you have anyone else to harass for your own twisted entertainment?"

"Why would I need anyone else when I have you. You're the most deserving."

"It's my case Gibbs. Was from the get go."

"Yeah. And you effed it up. And cost me my best agent!"

"You don't have to remind me. I was there remember!" Fornell snapped back.

"I'd like to remind you every last day of your life! You had no business using one of my agents for your suicide mission. Especially when you couldn't even have his six. I hope you remember that until the moment that you die. You cost DiNozzo his life. And there is not a chance in hell I will ever let you forget it!"

"I have no doubt about that. But know this. I did the best I could with what I had to work with. I made some tough decisions. Some that, yes, I look back on now and regret. I did what I had to do. DiNozzo could have walked away but he chose to take the assignment. Could have asked Vance to be excused. But he didn't. I had your Director's endorsement. The...," Tobias explained before being cut off abruptly.

"Not another word! You don't get to make excuses for what happened to him. The blame - it's all yours. Don't you dare put this on DiNozzo! One more word blaming him and I will shoot you dead right where you stand now. You hear me Tobias?"

"Gibbs. There's a lot you don't unders...," he started to say but the other man had reached the end of his fuse for patience. Not that it was a very long one to begin with.

"Go to hell Fornell!" Gibbs called out as he stormed back to the driver's side of the sedan. The other three agents scrambled to in get back into the vehicle as Gibbs slammed his door closed and started the engine.

Fornell watched as Gibbs pulled out into traffic as recklessly as he had parked. The light at the intersection was green and the NCIS agent spared no time careening around the corner to the right.

"That went well!" Fornell said jokingly to himself. He knew that Gibbs would not give up that easily. He suspected that the only reason the other man had left was so that he could get out of sight and then have him followed. Gibbs was probably letting an agent or two out of the sedan at that very moment. That meant Tobias would have to take the long way around to their planned exchange.

Unfortunately, they didn't have a lot of time to play with if DiNozzo was going to get to the Jeep before it was towed. Although even if he couldn't lose the tail Gibbs would set after him it might still work. All he was doing was signaling Tony not actually meeting him. The signal itself was fairly innocuous so if he ran out of time trying to shake whoever had been sent to follow it could still play out with them none the wiser. Unless it was Gibbs himself then they had a problem.

Fornell set off again down the sidewalk. He would take a little scenic foot tour of the city and see what or rather who tagged along behind him for the trip. He hoped Team Gibbs had worn their walking shoes because they were going to need them if they planned on tailing him until he stopped.

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Danny St. Clair casually glanced around as he walked down along the sidewalk on Pine Street. He had finally managed to slip away from the Bennett case using his disabled brother as an excuse. He hadn't cared for using Drew as the reason to leave but he was short on time and believable ideas.

He had left his pickup truck parked on the next street over. Before departing it he had made two calls. The first had been to a buddy he had in the city's public works department. He had asked a small favor by cashing in a few owed him. He hinted to his buddy that they had a case going on over on Pine and maybe perhaps he could make sure the street sweeper came to that street last out of the area that they were working tonight.

His buddy, a shift supervisor, had said it wouldn't be a problem and had wished him luck with whatever the detective had going on. And Danny hoped that luck panned out as he now neared the dark gray Jeep Grand Cherokee.

The second call had been to Billy Greene letting him know he was delayed and why. Greene had altered the plan and told him they would come to him instead. The word they had piqued his curiosity. Greene had at least one other person with him. Danny wondered if it was another leader or maybe perhaps the Wheel member who had dealt with Bennett. He didn't bother asking. He would find out soon enough.

He had told Billy about still needing to bird dog the Jeep and offered the location of his pickup truck. Greene told him to leave his vehicle unlocked when he went to the Jeep and they would find it and wait there. Danny explained that his plan was to watch Cutter's vehicle via the security monitor at the store where he had built a rapport with the owner. In fact when Danny had called the owner the man had said he would be leaving about when the detective would arrive. So he had told Danny that he would let him in and he could take as long as he needed on the condition that he locked up when he left.

Therefore, the plan had become that Greene would wait in the truck which Danny would leave a spare set of keys in while the detective staked out the Jeep from inside the store. If Cutter showed they would let him drive away then track him. If for some reason Cutter approached the vehicle but got spooked Danny would be close enough near by to intercept him.

St. Clair stole a final sweeping glance up and down the street and found it quiet and empty.

Moving as quickly as possible he got down on the pavement and then scouted his body beneath the vehicle. It was not his first go around doing this so within a handful of seconds he had the tracking device attached to the undercarriage of the vehicle. He had tucked it off to the side in back of the muffler so it was not easily visible.

Danny scouted back out and again looked about the surrounding area. There was still no one around. A moment later he was back on his feet and walking on the sidewalk again. A few seconds after he had arrived at the store and as promised found its owner about ready to exit the shop. They exchanged a few brief words in passing at the doorway and Danny slipped inside to wait and see if Jack Cutter would make an appearance.

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Settling into the driver's seat of the sedan Gibbs looked out through the windshield at the coffee shop. Just as he did so the lights in Java Jim's went dark. He had been their last customer of the night. A moment later the waitress, a young woman whose name tag offered her name as Melanie, exited out onto the sidewalk.

Gibbs decided that he would wait while she locked up and made her way to her car or down along the sidewalk if she was on foot. There was very little passing traffic on the street and very few people around. But better to take a few minutes and make sure Melanie made it safely on her way before he headed off himself.

He had dropped McGee off back at the hotel. And David and Moore had been let out around the corner from where they had spotted Fornell. They would probably still be on his tail at this point. Hopefully, they had listened to instructions and were being discreet in their pursuit. He wanted to find out what the FBI agent was up to because the man was hiding something – something big.

Gibbs picked up the tall coffee cup from the holder between the seats and took a slow sip. As he casually kept an eye on the young woman who was now locking the door to the shop he mentally ran through what they had gathered so far.

For some reason his mind went straight to going over what they had on Jack Cutter. He noted how McGee had found little to nothing for background on the guy. Although they now thought Jack might be a nickname so he would have to search all over again. Then there was how the pub owner had stated that the driver's license photo they had come up with was not the man he knew as Cutter. He seemed pretty sure of it too. And McGee had said that the person he encountered had not been heavy set like the license suggested. He went over in his mind the conversations which they had had with Seavey at Traveler's.

As Gibbs was going down through the questions that they had asked and how Bruce Seavey had answered several answers now, upon review, grabbed his attention. First the pub owner had been reluctant to talk initially. But there was something else Seavey had said that stuck with him word for word. He really is an okay guy. All of this ratting him out doesn't feel right. Then later Seavey had said something else when they had asked him about the cameras. When he had responded he had stated that he had checked them with the last round of questioning last night. Catching it now Gibbs recalled that he and McGee had gone there in the afternoon not at night time. By the time night rolled around they were at the hospital then back at the hotel.

"Dammit! We weren't the only ones asking questions!" Gibbs scolded himself in realization. He dropped the coffee cup back in its holder. The coffee shop worker had already driven off so he dug in his pocket for the keys and started the engine. Pulling out of the parallel parking spot he did a sharp U-turn then speed off in the direction of Traveler's. Bruce Seavey had a few more questions to answer.

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By night Traveler's Pub was clearly a popular hangout. Gibbs found himself having to weave through clusters of customers and dodge trays full of glasses and plates being carried by the wait staff. The two times he had been here it was prior to opening for business and with the lights dimmed, music playing, and it filled to the brim with people it almost looked like a different place.

Finally making it up to the counter he signaled with his hand to catch the attention of the bartender, a tall wiry man in his early thirties. The man finished pouring a drink from a shaker into a glass then handed it off to a customer further down the bar. But the bartender had spotted him because a moment later he was standing across the counter from Gibbs.

"What can I get for you? No. Let me guess. Draft. No. That's not right. Too weak. Tequila?"

"Yes. And no."

"Are you sure you know what you want?" the bartender asked with a confused look catching his features.

"Yes, draft is too weak. No, I don't want tequila. Got this," Gibbs responded and held up his Java Jim's coffee cup.

"Alright then! Surprise me. What can I get for you?"

"Your boss."

"Hey. I didn't mean anything by it. I just like to try guess what new customers drink."

"Don't want to talk to him about you."

"In that case who should I tell him is asking?" the younger man inquired.

"Tell him it's the guy who came asking some questions last night."

"Hang out a minute. I'll see if he's around."

Gibbs leaned against one of the tall stools in front of the counter and gazed around the pub. A few minutes later Seavey came out through the door that connected the back room to the main area of the bar. Judging by the look on the pub owner's face it hadn't been the NCIS agent he had expected. Gibbs had deliberately mislead the man by saying he was the guy asking questions last night. Gibbs' suspicions were on target. He and McGee had not been the only ones asking around about Jack Cutter. Someone had come by after them.

"I thought I told you I wanted to see a warrant," Seavey said.

"Ya did. And I have one just not on me. This will only drag on if I have to go get the papers. But I already have the answer to one question."

"Oh yeah. What's that?"

"After I left here yesterday. Someone else came in asking after Jack Cutter. Who was it?" Gibbs asked calmly.

"I am not telling you anything else. You may have chased off my bouncer but there's always the local cops. Should I be dialing them or are you gonna leave?" the pub owner questioned and picked the receiver up off the phone mounted on the wall behind the bar.

"Don't say I didn't give you the chance to play nice!" Gibbs offered and headed off towards the doorway. He had wanted to grab the man by the collar and shake the information out of him. But he had reigned in his irritation. He would go and get the paperwork. He suspected Seavey would talk just at the sight of it and not bother reading what it even covered.

Gibbs exited out onto the sidewalk and started down the street in the direction of his car which he had parked a short walk away. He had only made it a few feet when a voice called out behind him.

"Hey!" a female voice called after him. He turned to find a young woman not more than twenty five walking towards him on the sidewalk. He had seen her inside. In the pub the woman had been serving drinks and taking orders so she must be another one of Seavey's employees. He opted for the gentle approach since she initiated the conversation. He didn't want to scare her off if she knew something useful and was willing to offer it up.

"Something I can help you with?" he asked casually.

"I kinda overheard you in there talking to my boss. Well, bit and pieces anyway."

"Okay," he replied reassuring her that he didn't care that she had heard in case she was worried she shouldn't have been listening.

"Did I hear right? You looking to find out who was asking about Jack?"

"Yes. That was what I asked him. Did you happen to know something about it?"

"Before I answer that. Why you looking for Jack?"

"I just have a few questions for him? Maybe protect him if he needs it."

"Good. Jack always did right by me and the other waitresses. Watched out for us. Guys sometimes get handsy when they are smashed. And he would walk us to our cars if we didn't want to walk alone. If we were having a bad night he would joke around and make us smile. It won't be the same around here without him."

"Sounds decent," he stated hoping that saying something positive about Jack would encourage her to keep talking.

"The guy that was here he's a local cop. Name's Danny St. Clair."

"How do you know him?"

"The jackass busted my little sister. She didn't even know that apartment was a place where people go to buy drugs. Her loser boyfriend brought her there and while she's in the bathroom he stashes stuff in her purse. Then the cops show up. That detective wouldn't even listen to her side."

"Sorry to hear that. You're sure it was him?"

"Positive."

"Thank you for the help."

"You'll look after Jack if you find him?"

"I'll do what I can."

"Okay," she hesitantly replied. Her eyes gave away that maybe she regretted telling him.

"You did the right thing. I don't think this guy St. Clair is looking to make friends with Cutter."

"Oh so I'm not just paranoid. He seemed like he was up to something not so good."

"You have good instincts. Listen to them. They won't let you down."

"I gotta get back inside."

"Okay. Go on!" Gibbs said and nodded his head back towards the pub. She walked away and he headed in the direction of the rented sedan.

Coming from the coffee shop he had headed towards the general direction he knew the pub to be in. Things had started to look familiar and he recognized a name on a street sign. Pine Street had been the street where he and McGee had parked when they had first visited Traveler's Pub. Only this time there were plenty of empty spaces and he had barely turned onto the street when he came upon one. Gibbs had decided since he knew the way on foot and could use the fresh air to clear his head he might as well park there and walk the rest of the way. But now his pace would be less leisurely. The fact that it was a local cop that had come asking questions about Jack raised a huge red flag. The Wheel had a presence in state and local law enforcement and Gibbs was willing to bet that St. Clair hadn't been there on official police business. He had been there on Wheel business.

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Wiping a hand over the glass Tony cleared away a bit of the dusty film covering the window pane in front of him. Now able to see through it better he picked up the pair of mini binoculars and lifted them back to his eyes. From the second story window inside Sacred Heart Church he could see all the way up the street to the intersection. The great little hole in the wall movie theater he had described to Fornell was well within his line of sight.

The church had a good vantage point for this whole section of the city actually. The building was not currently in use. He had read in the newspaper that there was an ongoing battle of whether to put money into repairing it or to simply demolish it. In the meantime while the opposing sides duked it out the place was silent and empty.

He had watched for a while already but the FBI agent hadn't appeared yet. Tony prayed that everything was going as planned. He pushed away the thoughts that something may have happened and tried to convince himself Fornell had just been delayed somehow. But it was hard because he was anxious and his gut was getting a little rambunctious for some reason.

Finding himself fidgeting Tony laid the binoculars on the window sill and unzipped the hiking pack that lay on the floor next to his feet. He grabbed one of the granola bars from inside and tore the package open. He picked up the binoculars again. He held them with one hand and held the granola bar which he began eating in the other. Then watched out through the window again for some time.

He had just finished off the last bite of the snack and stuffed the wrapper in his pocket when he spotted Fornell crossing the intersection up the street a ways. There was something in the way the FBI agent walked or in his posture that sent up a red flag to Tony but he wasn't sure what it meant yet.

He tracked Fornell's movements along the sidewalk. A long moment later he reached the movie theater. Given the delay in his arrival and the red flag that had gone up Tony was surprised when the other man stopped. Tony could see him step into the covered entryway and lift the lid on the metal box where the flyers were kept. He had expected that the FBI agent would pass it by if his gut was anything to base guesses off of. His gut was telling him there was a problem and it was a no go. But as he kept watching Fornell took one of the flyers from the box and then continued down the sidewalk and finally turned the corner out of sight.

"Well that was the signal. The Jeep it is I guess!" Tony commented. He stored away the binoculars in his jacket pocket and zipped up the pack. Taking a hold of the straps he hoisted the large hiking pack with the sleeping bag secured to the top of it up onto his back. After clipping together the anchoring strap that went around his waist he grabbed the duffel bag from the wooden chair beside the window. For some reason before he turned and headed for the door he glanced out the window to look back outside. He noticed two figures making their way briskly down along the sidewalk where Fornell had traveled only moments before. He retrieved the binoculars from his pocket and took a closer look at the pair who were now moving along at a near jog.

"Crap!" he swore quietly as he got a good look at the female half of the duo. It was Ziva. He didn't recognize the brunette man with her but they were together and Tony could tell he was wearing a weapon under his jacket. He was likely an agent too.

Both of them were frantically looking around the street and buildings. Tony deduced that they were searching for Fornell. It made sense now why there had been something off about the FBI agent when he first appeared. The other two agents had been following him. It explained the delay. Fornell probably had to lead them on a tour of the city in an attempt to shake them. And apparently he had at least done so momentarily based off the gap between Fornell's appearance then theirs. Not to mention that their hurried visual searching meant they had lost line of sight on the FBI agent.

Tony waited and watched as Ziva and the other agent who he now noticed bore a slight resemblance to Brent Langer made their way down the sidewalk to the next side street. After a quick survey down in the direction where Fornell had turned they passed by and continued up to the next intersection. On the corner they split up. Ziva went left. An Langer's long lost cousin went right. A second later they both were out of sight.

Tony dropped the binoculars on the window sill and blew out a breath. He would have to wait a few more minutes before heading out in case they doubled back in their search for the FBI agent. Reluctantly, he would give it a minute or two and then make his way as quickly as possible to the Jeep.

Tony closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths. His chest was tight and his gut was churning. And he was pretty sure the walls were closing in on him.

"Buck up DiNozzo," he commanded himself. Just a few minutes then a little trek to Pine Street and you're on the way. He just had to hang on until the city was behind him and then he could breath again he promised himself.

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A small green sign with white lettering set atop a post just up ahead alerted Gibbs he had reached the street the sedan was parked on. The corner of Pine Street and Cross Court. The vehicle was parked right at the beginning of the street so he would be there shortly. He took a sip of his coffee which apparently had stopped being hot a while ago.

With his free hand he pulled his phone out from his jacket pocket and selected McGee from the contact list. He lifted it to his ear and listened to it ring. The phone chirped at him as it had been doing all day long but he had kept forgetting to charge it. He had looked for the car charger back in the car outside the coffee shop but it must have been taken into the hotel with everything else by accident.

"Hey Boss!" his senior field agent answered.

"You at the computer?"

"I am. What do you need?"

"Look up a local cop named Danny St. Clair," Gibbs instructed just as his phone began beeping at him more incessantly.

"Okay. Looking now. What's that beeping sound?"

"Oh it's the phone. Couldn't find the charger for the thing."

"All that beeping is your phone? If it's beeping like that it's dying fast."

"Yep. That's the impression I got too. Anything?"

"Yep. Daniel Christopher St. Clair. He's a detective with the Portland Police Department. Been with them for over a decade."

"Is there a picture of him?"

"Sure I can send it to your phone."

"Better do it fast," Gibbs suggested as his phone chirped away at him.

"Okay. You should have it! Where are ya at, Boss? You went out for coffee quite a while ago," Tim responded as Gibbs' phone beeped another type of tone alerting him he had received a message.

"Corner Of Pine Street and Cross Court," Gibbs replied dryly.

"Uh. I didn't mean literally. I meant... uh... well...I thought maybe you found something when you went off by yourself like you do for a long time."

"Know what you meant. And I did find something. I'll explain when I get back. I should be there in a few minutes."

"Alright Boss. I'll talk to you in a few."

"Yep!" the team leader offered in parting and disconnected the call.

Gibbs took the phone away from his ear and opened the picture McGee had sent him. St. Clair had light brown hair and blue eyes. Solidly built. Short hair but not to closely buzzed. He looked to be in his early to mid forties. After studying the picture for a moment he put the phone back in his pocket and continued to walk towards the car.

He turned the corner onto Pine Street and immediately spotted the sedan. As he arrived beside the vehicle he remembered that earlier at the coffee shop he had not checked the trunk for the phone charger. So he set the Java Jim's cup on the roof and pulled out his keys.

Opening the trunk he shifted through the items there but didn't come up with what he was looking for amongst the things inside. While still leaned into the trunk his attention was grabbed away from the task at hand by first the sound of an engine starting up then the sharp squeak of car brakes. Someone needed to get their brake pads changed out.

He looked back over his shoulder farther down the street. There was a dark colored SUV type vehicle that had pulled out of a parking spot and was now making a tight U-turn in the street. Once completed the vehicle headed up the street towards where Gibbs was parked. He watched it as it approached and noted that the only occupant was the driver but the person was silhouetted since most of the streetlamps were behind it.

Some of the streetlights near where Gibbs was parked must have been broken or blown out because that section of the street was cloaked in shadows in places. As the vehicle passed him by in the lane on the opposite side of the street from where he stood Gibbs could see that it was a dark colored Jeep Grand Cherokee. His gaze instantly went to the license plate. It was a regular Maine plate and it had an R in it.

"Romeo. Tango. Four. Two. Three," he said aloud to himself to imprint it into his memory. Since he didn't believe in coincidences and they weren't far from Traveler's the odds were strong that that had been Jack Cutter.

He slammed the trunk closed and moved around the car. Opening the driver's side door and grabbing his coffee from the roof he quickly slipped inside. Jamming the key into the ignition and bringing the car to life he realized he should give the plate to McGee to check and confirm its owner.

He got out his phone and hit the button to bring it to life but the screen stayed dark. He realized the phone hadn't chirped at him in the last few minutes which meant it had finally died. In frustration he tossed it onto the passenger seat. He would follow and see if he could at the least get a look at Cutter if it was him.

The rumble of a truck engine broke his thoughts and he looked up to see a green Chevy Silverado coming up the street. It stopped a few car lengths before the spot where he was parked but on the opposite side of the road. It idled for a moment. Gibbs twisted around to get a better look at what they were up to. He was grateful that the busted streetlights likely masked his presence.

That was when he saw a man exiting a store across the way. The tall figure made his way at a jog towards the waiting pickup truck. The driver of the truck climbed out and went around the front bumper to climb back in on the passenger side. There also appeared to be another person in the back seat of the extended cab.

The man who had exited the store arrived at the curb and stepped down off the sidewalk in front of the Silverado. And as he did so he also stepped into the glow of the streetlamp overhead and Gibbs got a perfectly clear view of his face.

It was Daniel St. Clair.

The pieces click together in his mind. The Jeep that had passed him by was Cutter and these guys in the truck which included St. Clair had been staking it out. Now they were going to follow after Cutter. Gibbs knew in his gut nothing good would come of it.

He needed to tail them both. But he had to relay information to his team somehow and he had to do it quickly since St. Clair had now climbed into the driver's seat of the Chevy and the truck was moving again. It sped by the sedan and turned onto Cross Court in the same direction the Jeep had gone in. Gibbs managed to catch the plate before it made the corner.

Gibbs grabbed the pen from inside his coat pocket and picked up his coffee. As fast as he could he scribbled out a message on the outside of the cup.

St. Clair = The Wheel

Jeep RT423

Chevy Silverado 8256P

St. Clair + 2

Right on Cross Court.

Chasing Jack

Jumping out of the car he glanced around. Spotting that the storefront near his car had a window with a bit of a sill which jutted outward he set the half full Java Jim's cup down on the ledge in front of the window. In the next heartbeat he was back in the driver's seat and tearing out of the parking spot. He took the same right onto Cross Court the Jeep and Silverado had and laid his foot heavily down on the gas pedal in hopes he wasn't too late to catch up.

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"What exactly are you doing?" Ziva asked as she looked up from cleaning her firearm.

"What?" McGee replied.

"I have only been here for a few minutes and you have picked up that phone a dozen times already," she explained.

"It's nothing."

"No, clearly it is something."

"It's just I talked to Gibbs before you arrived. He found something and said he was coming right back here and he would explain. Sounded important. I can't get him on the phone. It was dying when I was talking to him so it must have finally lost all its charge. On the phone he told me his location and I looked it up on the map and by car it's ten minutes tops. With Gibbs driving maybe five. He is way past due. Something's not right."

"Getting in tune with your gut are you, McGee?"

"More like the hairs on the back of my neck."

"Perhaps he needed a coffee refill. At that coffee shop he found. What was it called? Java Jane's?"

"Java Jim's. When he dropped me back at the hotel that was where he was headed. That was a long time ago."

"Maybe he went back for a second refill."

"Couldn't have."

"How do you know for certain?" Ziva asked curiously.

"Because I looked up Java Jim's online. And they closed over an hour ago."

"Relax McGee. I am sure he is fine. Or on second thought. Maybe he ran into Fornell again and they killed each other this time. I know I'd like to kill him. He led me and Moore through what felt like a march from one end of the city to the other."

"No. If he's not here by the time Moore is back from getting us the second rental car were going over to check at the location he gave me."

"Okay. But I am confident there is nothing to worry about!" Ziva reassured and returned to her work. McGee glanced at his watch and ran a hand over his face. Maybe he didn't have Gibbs' gut but this was not sitting right at all.

As soon as Moore arrived with the second rental they would go straight to the corner of Pine Street and Cross Court. Tim only prayed there would be some sign of the Boss there to find. Preferably the boss himself but he would take what he could get at this point.

"Where are you Boss?" he whispered to himself and looked down at the silent phone in his hands.

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The city of Portland lay behind him now.

Tony watched out through the windshield as the Jeep's headlights illuminated the country road ahead. Route 302 would take him northwest through the Lakes Region and over the state border into New Hampshire. He might get rid of the car there somewhere or at the farthest continue a little further with it into Vermont or Western Massachusetts.

The headlight beams skimmed over the worn gray pavement and the yellow lines that ran down the center of it. They shone against the trees lining the roadside and bounced off the metal of the guard rails that were stationed here and there.

The orange glow of streetlights and the steady flow of traffic from downtown were gone. Spare the light thrown by the vehicle's headlights night had wrapped around him. And as the darkness settled in loneliness returned along with it. Until that moment Tony had not truly realized how deeply the close encounter with the past and his former self had affected him.

He thought back to the meeting with Fornell. Even just the brief connection with one person who had known him as Tony DiNozzo had awakened some exiled piece of him. And it haunted his heart. He was not sure he would be able to ever lay it to rest again.

Tony anxiously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Being Tony DiNozzo after so many years of being someone else and doing everything to hide his true identity had been strange and disconnected almost like an out of body experience. Yet at the same time having the FBI agent call him DiNozzo had been a comforting relief.

The sharp brightness of a pair of headlights reflected in the rearview mirror snatched his attention from his thoughts. The other car had seemingly come out of nowhere and was following fairly close behind. Unnecessarily close given they were the only vehicles in sight on the road. But it showed no signs of letting up.

"Okay, buddy either slow up off my bumper or pass me already."

But the vehicle did neither. Just stayed there tight on his bumper. Tony pressed down slightly on the gas pedal and the Jeep picked up its speed. He looked in the mirror again and found the other car had copied his acceleration. So he tested it and let up on the gas a little. Again the vehicle on his back bumper did as he did and maintained similar speed.

Were these guys following him?

"Now you're just being paranoid Jack," he scolded himself. It took a second for realization to click in that he had called himself Jack not Tony. When it did every fiber of his body tensed. He couldn't believe he had just done that. He had said it so naturally that it was unnerving at the least.

He increased his speed back up around the speed limit. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over by some county sheriff's deputy. But he couldn't help checking his mirror and testing to see if they matched his speed changes ever once in a while.

They matched every one and now he knew it wasn't the result of his paranoid mind. The vehicle behind him was purposely sticking with him and didn't care that he knew it. Before he even had the chance to think on how to shake them the other vehicle finally left his bumper. It pulled slightly to the left and moved forward as if it was going to make an attempt to pass. But instead of speeding up to pass they maintained their speed.

Tony then recognized what they were setting up to do. He had done it before himself while on the police force. The driver of the other vehicle was positioning it to execute a PIT maneuver. The other driver had already lined up the side of his vehicle's front end, the section before the front wheels, so it was parallel to the back end of the Jeep behind its rear wheels. Contact in the form of a solid bump between the two vehicles in this manner with the other driver then steering to veer abruptly towards the Jeep would cause Tony to spin out.

"We'll see about that!" Tony stated and pressed down on the gas pedal in hopes a sudden burst of speed would be enough to break free of the correct positioning for the maneuver. His anticipation of what they had been setting up to try must have taken the other driver by surprise. The sudden acceleration dropped the other vehicle away from the rear side panel and back past the bumper. He laid his foot down more heavily on the gas. The other vehicle reacted in kind, increasing its speed even more and pulling fully into the other lane so it was now traveling head on into any oncoming traffic.

As far as Tony could tell through the intense brightness of its headlights the other vehicle looked to be a pickup truck. That meant it was a solid match for the Jeep Grand Cherokee if not more than one. If it had been a sedan Tony might have had the advantage with the possible exception of the Jeep having a higher center of gravity which could make it tip more easily.

Despite the fact that he now had the gas pedal practically laid to the floor Tony could see in the side mirror that the truck was having no hard time at catching up. Forced to look back at the road in front of him after a quick check in the side mirror he took a sharp inhale of breath. A bright yellow sign along the side of the road indicated that there was a sharp curve coming up.

His mind raced. His heart rate matched its pace.

The pickup truck was now nearly side by side with the Jeep. Its front passenger side door was right across from the back door on the driver's side of his own vehicle. With the curve coming the only move he could think of was to slam on the brakes and hope the truck flew past him and while the driver reacted by probably slowing and turning around he would have the chance to make a rapid U-turn and head in the opposite direction. This might gain him a slight lead on the other vehicle.

The chance to set that plan in motion dissolved in the next instant though.

Instead the sound of metal scraping against metal and the harsh jolt of the truck slamming into the Jeep's side arrived. Tony gripped onto the steering wheel so hard his hands ached as he struggled to pull it to the left. The pickup's passenger side was up pressed against the driver's side of his vehicle and it was forcing him over towards the side of the road.

The truck had pushed him far enough over that the pickup was now straddling the yellow line as they reached the curve. With his passenger side tires at the very edge of the pavement Tony yanked the steering wheel to the left as hard as he could in attempt to regain more of the road under his tires. But the weight of the slightly larger truck had the advantage and the other driver steered further to the right.

It was then that Tony knew he wasn't going to make the curve.

The pickup had forced him so far over there was no room left on the edge of the road. There was simply not enough space for his vehicle to pass between the truck and the trees that lined the inside edge of the curve. The only thing left to do was to try to control the vehicle as much as he could as it left the roadway.

Another solid jolt towards the right from the pickup and the Jeep's passenger side wheels left the pavement and connected with the loose rocks or debris along side the road. The steering wheel tugged against his grasp, fighting his direction, and he scrambled to control the path of the vehicle. The pickup kept shoving the him over further and finally he was all the way off the road.

The truck veered off so it would remain on the pavement. Despite his foot now already being lifted off the gas pedal and coming down on the brake it was too late. The front end and tires were already over the edge of the embankment and momentum sent the Jeep down the steep uneven incline.

The headlights illuminated the cluster of trees straight ahead for what seemed only a split second before the impact arrived. Tony's body was jolted back then forward and back again in the driver's seat as the air bag deployed. With one last bounce and lurch the Jeep settled with the passenger side elevated slightly higher than the driver's side on the uneven terrain. As that last movement had come Tony had been thrown harshly sideways into the driver's side door and window.

And then the night simply went silent and still.

To Be Continued...