Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS.

A/N: Any medical errors are mine. Thanks to all who are reading. Shout out to my reviewers: it's weatherly time, Sparkiebunny, Belker, julie250, Long Live BRUCAS, DarkRose2006, TheNaggingCube, Deluded Visions, Shywr1ter, mbj, rittandy, tansysam, Megth, and DS2010.

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Twisted Brother

Chapter Six

"Take That, McGee"

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Gibbs strode to the front of the bullpen and motioned Agent Ziva David to turn the big screen on. She did so with a click of the remote. But before she could start to review the evidence on the first screen, a picture showing their first victim, Petty Officer Daniel Dominique, Gibbs' desk phone rang.

Abby was closest to it and grabbed the receiver before it finished the first ring. "NCIS Very Special Agent in Charge Leroy Jethro Gibbs' desk. Very Special Forensic Scientist Extraordinaire Abigail Scuito here. I command you, speak and deliver good news!" Gibbs' rolled his eyes and quickly retrieved the phone. "Gibbs." His bark into the phone was as short and to the point as Abby's answer had been long. As soon as he realized it was McGee on the phone, he put it on speaker so all could hear.

McGee's voice was tight with tension. "We're here at Tony's apartment and something's definitely wrong. His car is here, and his wallet, cell phone and keys are here. But there's no sign of Tony. Nothing looks out of place, except for a pizza box on the table with a whole pizza still in it; in fact the only thing missing is his gun. His bed hasn't been slept in, but it looks like he took a shower. Boss, tell me you've heard from him." Nothing could disguise the worry coming through loud and clear in his voice.

Gibbs ran a hand through his short hair and couldn't quite restrain the heartfelt sigh that escaped. "We've heard from him, Tim. Treat his apartment as a crime scene. Process everything and I mean everything. I'll send Ziva out to help."

But before McGee could answer, Director Vance, who had been on his way back up to his office and had returned when he'd heard McGee's voice on the phone, took the receiver from Gibb's hand. "Belay that, McGee. I'm sending another team out to process the scene. I want your asses back as soon as they arrive. You've got more important things to do here." And with that, Vance hung the phone up and turned to face an incredibly irate Gibbs.

"Ordering my agents around, now Leon? Afraid maybe I can't run this case? Don't even think about taking us off it; Tony's out there, he's hurt and you're not going to stand in my way!" Gibb's voice had risen on each word until the last one was shouted loudly enough for everyone on two floors to hear him.

"Relax, Gibbs. No one is taking you or your team off anything. But anyone can process DiNozzo's apartment. I want McGee here to help Miss Scuito analyze the tape of your conversation with whoever has Tony." Vance nodded at Abby who was standing open mouthed, listening to the exchange.

"Miss Scuito. Please start to work on that tape. Isolate anything that will help us identify where they might be holding him. I want it cleaned up sooner rather than later. Tony was trying to tell us something just before the line went dead. I want to know what it was. McGee will help you as soon as he returns." If Vance was disturbed by the look of fury on Gibbs' face, a look that was just now starting to diminish, he didn't show it.

Gibbs held the Director's eyes a moment longer; then nodded. "You're right, Leon. McGee can help more here. Send Balboa's team; next to us they're the best." Gibbs allowed the tiniest smile to cross his face, acknowledging the Director's interest and subtle approval of Gibbs' intentions, before turning back to Ziva. "Ziva, start at the top. Let's run everything we've got. And when Tim gets here; you go talk to Sarah McGee again. See if there is anything, and I mean anything, she might have left out."

At Tony's apartment, McGee stood still, holding the phone for a moment before responding to Bryce's questions. He shook his head, while murmuring, 'It's never a good thing when he calls me 'Tim.' Never."

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The object of all the worry and discussion, one very sick Agent Tony DiNozzo, realized he had slipped into a light unconsciousness yet again. He had tried hard to stay awake, knowing he needed to keep pressure on his leg to try and make the wound clot. But between his exhaustion, the blood loss and the stress, he had been slipping in and out of awareness for some time. Wondering what woke him this time, he wished he knew what time it was. Not being able to see his watch was making him crazy. The light bulb in the ceiling continued to shine weakly, and since there were no windows in the room, he had no idea of how much time had passed. As much as anything, the waiting was unbearable. He wished something, anything would happen. He hated the inactivity.

In the next moment however, he began to regret wishing that. Hearing footsteps, and then a key being inserted into the lock, he realized what had brought him around. "Well, DiNozzo," he thought to himself. "You'd better be careful what you wish for." He knew that whatever Mehi and Adam had in store for him, it probably wouldn't be exactly pleasant.

The door opened and Blake Mehi entered the room, followed by his ever present shadow. He stopped and took in Tony's appearance. The agent's face was flushed with fever, there was an obvious blood pool on the bed and fatigue lined his features.

"DiNozzo." His voice was grating and harsh. "Looks like you're not doing so well. Any complaints about your treatment you'd like to bring up?" Tony stared up at the other man, weighing his options. Deciding he just didn't really care what Blake thought or did, he sneered right back at him. "Oh, it's just peachy Blakey-boy. Although the room service leaves a bit to be desired. But then if you're in charge, I can understand that. You're not only ugly; I guess you're stupid too."

Blake's laugh lacked any warmth at all. Pulling Tony forward, he produced a key and unlocked the handcuffs. Tony's arms fell forward and immediately pain shot through his hands and wrists, as the blood rushed through his veins. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to give his tormentors the satisfaction of wincing. Mehi stood back up, and motioning Adam forward, produced a gun, pointed it at Tony and instructed, "On your feet. You're needed upstairs." Adam took Tony's arm around his shoulders and pulled him upward. This time, the agent couldn't bite back a small yelp of pain as his leg throbbed in time with the blood rushing through his arms. He fought not to give into the curtain of gray that rushed in front of his eyes, instinctively knowing that passing out right now wouldn't earn him any points.

"Seems to me," he managed to gasp out, as Adam started dragging him up the stairs, "You'd make it a lot easier on yourselves if you'd just leave me in one place. Better yet, just turn me loose and you won't have to keep hauling me all over the place."

Neither Blake nor Adam replied, although Blake shoved the gun into the small of Tony's back. Tony ignored it, by this time it was taking all his energy not to fade completely out.

Taking him into the kitchen again, Adam lowered him into a chair. Then he took the gun from Blake, and pointed it directly at Tony's chest. Blake stared at him for a moment, shaking his head. "You're a mess. But you're no good to me dead, not yet anyway." He turned and rummaged in a cupboard behind him, then pulled a pan out, filled it with water and placed it on the stove to boil.

He came over and using a pair of scissors he'd retrieved from the counter, he cut the blood soaked bandage off. Pulling it away with a yank when it stuck to the wound, he grinned when Tony sucked in his breath and hissed in pain. Wiping at the blood that was still oozing up from the wound, he peered at Tony's leg. Angry red streaks were leading away from the injury, and the wound itself was swollen and inflamed. "Looks to me like infection has set in. Looks pretty bad."

Tony glanced at his leg, but wished he hadn't. He wasn't squeamish around blood; obviously in his line of work that wouldn't be feasible. But he didn't exactly like seeing his own blood, and the sight of the open wound with the yellowish discharge didn't do anything for his already queasy stomach.

Blake grinned and stood up, going over to the stove. He took a small knife from a drawer and dropped it into the pot of now boiling water. "Looks to me like I need to get the bullet out. Like I said, it's not time for you to die yet." Blake nodded in Adam's direction. Adam carefully placed the gun on the table, well out of Tony's reach, and together they grabbed him by his arms and yanked him to his feet.

Tony's heart sped up. He most certainly did not like the direction this conversation was going. As they drug him through the living room, he considered trying to fight them off, but something in his body language must have telegraphed itself to them, because Blake gripped him tighter and in a menacing tone, said, "Don't even think about it DiNozzo. I said I didn't want you dead yet, not that I wouldn't kill you if necessary. After all, there are other ways to get to McGee besides through you."

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Gibbs and Ziva had run through the crime scene photos twice by the time McGee and Mallory returned. Mallory excused himself and went to check on Sarah, his other responsibility. While he was gone, Gibbs asked McGee if anything about the other agent seemed off. McGee considered, but slowly shook his head. "Not really, boss. He's pretty friendly, really knows his stuff and is thorough. Why?" Gibbs just shook his head. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn't quite get it to crystallize for him.

After that, the long afternoon wore on, which each member of the team going about their assignments with even more diligence than usual. Sarah had come out and asked permission to stay with her brother after Ziva had re-interviewed her. Try as she might, she couldn't recall seeing anything unusual, and though she'd described the sensation of being watched, she'd not seen anyone who didn't belong around campus or at her apartment. Sarah watched Abby and Tim work together with amazement. Though she'd seen it to some degree when she'd been the one under suspicion, on an earlier case, she'd really had no idea of the way this team worked.

Finally, after hours of work and after Balboa's team had returned with the evidence, scarce though it was, from Tony's apartment, Tim had been able to isolate Tony's whispered voice, just before it had been cut off. He listened to it several times as Abby started processing the items laid out before her.

Sarah watched in surprise 30 minutes later as they turned toward each other at the exact same moment and exclaimed, "Stop what you're doing. This is important!" Tim and Abby just glared at each other before Abby's eyes welled up with tears. At that Tim, stopped what he was doing and asked her, "What is it, Abs?"

"It's blood, Tim. Blood. And it's Tony's blood type. I'm so scared."

Gibbs, being Gibbs, had chosen that exact moment to enter the lab. He hugged Abby briefly, planting a kiss on the top of her head, before placing a fresh Caf Pow in front of her. "It's okay, Abs. You've seen Tony's blood before. And we already knew he was hurt. Now, get back to work, and find me something I don't already know." Turning toward McGee, he raised his eyebrows, and said "What?" Tim immediately held out the headphones he'd been listening to. "Check this out boss. Tony says something about it being 'him'. Says it's … and I can't quite make this out, but it sounds like he says it's a 'man' or its 'Nam'? I just can't quite hear it."

Gibbs listened, playing it back several times. Suddenly he threw the headphones off and headed for the door. "Come on McGee. I think I might know what he's saying."

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DiNozzo was dragged into a bedroom and placed on the bed on his back. While Adam stayed with him, Blake returned to the kitchen and came back with the handcuffs. Securing Tony's wrists to the bedposts, he seemed to take particular glee in restraining him. Then, he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and forcing Tony's mouth open, gagged him with it. "Don't want you yelling and scaring the neighbors while I operate." Tony did his best to keep the fear from showing in his eyes, though he was beginning to feel a sick dread at what he figured was coming next.

He was left alone for a few more minutes before both men came back into the small room. Adam sat down across the bed, and leaning over, grabbed his left leg in a tight grip. Blake, grinning again, wasted no time in starting to dig for the bullet in Tony's thigh. He kept up a running commentary as he fished around in the open wound.

"Well, I haven't done surgery before, so maybe this is something I can add to my resume." He seemed to find this amusing, as did Adam. Tony's vision kept dimming and he began to pray desperately for the unconsciousness he'd been trying to avoid earlier. After one particularly deep jab, Tony's whole body bucked and he would have come up off the bed if Adam hadn't leaned harder across his legs. "Keep him still, damn it. This is hard enough without him flailing around." Blake's voice took on an angry tone, and he momentarily withdrew the knife. "DiNozzo, I don't particularly care how bad this hurts you, but it's gonna' be in your best interest to hold still. I could knock you out, but that would make it too easy on you."

Tony closed his eyes, willing the sudden overpowering nausea down. Maybe if he concentrated on that, he wouldn't feel the pain so sharply. At least that's what he tried to tell himself. But that idea was quickly dismissed as the knife returned to its probing. Mercifully, he felt himself begin to fade and welcomed the darkness that loomed in front of him. But before he could give into it, Blake suddenly gave one more thrust and the bullet came free. The sharp and agonizing pain that resulted brought Tony back to full wakefulness.

"Hold this over it; press hard. Try to stop the bleeding," Blake handed Adam a wet compress. "If that doesn't work, we'll have to cauterize it." Tony gulped back his panic at that statement. All was suddenly surreal and quiet as they watched to see if the blood flow would be staunched. Just as the agony started to fade the slightest big, Adam pulled the compress off at a nod from Blake. The blood immediately began to well up, flowing freely.

Blake stared down at the wound for a moment more, then nodding for Adam to apply pressure again, gave Tony a wicked grin and left the room. He came back with some alcohol and bandages, and the left again. Ten minutes later was back, this time with a stick of wood, the end of it still glowing from where he'd obviously taken it out of the fireplace. With a glance at the agent's very white face, he considered for a moment, then said, "Brace yourself," as he applied the flat end of the glowing ember.

Tony remembered several things happening at once. He heard the scream build up from somewhere deep inside himself and didn't even try to restrain it. An astounding amount of sound escaped around the gag. He smelled the horrible stench of his own flesh burning and felt his stomach heave, but fortunately, he had eaten so little in the past several hours, and was so dehydrated from the fever that very little actually made its way into his throat. He managed to swallow the bile back down, hoping he didn't aspirate any of it. Pneumonia was the last thing he needed. And finally, the dark tunnel that had been hovering just beyond his senses moved rapidly toward him. He willingly gave himself up to the blackness that promised blessed relief.

As soon as DiNozzo's body went lax, Blake withdrew the ember, examining the burned flesh. "At least the bleeding slowed. Not sure if this will knock the infection down or not." He watched Tony's chest move rhythmically up and down for a few moments, then started out of the room. As Adam started to clean up, Blake stopped him with a shake of his head.

"Wait just a moment. I want to send a picture to my friend at NCIS." With that he took a disposable cell phone from his pocket, shot several photos from different angles, being sure to include the blood, the scorched flesh and DiNozzo's very white face. Then, nodding for Adam to go ahead, and instructing him to disinfect the still oozing wound with alcohol and bandage it, he went into the living room.

Choosing several pictures, he didn't try to contain the grim smile and sense of righteous revenge he felt as he sent the pictures to Agent Timothy McGee's email address. The insanity that was becoming more and more pronounced revealed itself as he talked to quietly himself. Adam, coming out of the bedroom, shuddered slightly as he heard the murmured words.

"Take that, McGee. How does it feel, knowing your 'brother' is dying, and you can't do anything about it?"

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Gibbs had just come back from meeting with the director about his suspicions. The two of them had come up with a plan of action, and Gibbs had instructed his team to go home for the night. After his third such order, they were finally shutting things down and getting ready to leave. He knew they would all be back in before 0500 in the morning, but he figured they needed at least a little sleep to be at their best. But before McGee turned his computer off, he checked his email one more time, as he always every evening just before leaving.

His face went white and his voice sounded hollow as the rest of the team waited for him near the elevator doors. "No. Oh God, no. Tony. What have they done to you?"

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A/N: Thanks for reading. Please read and review.