Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS.

A/N: Thanks to all who have been reading and especially to those who took the time to review. I love to write, an hearing that folks are enjoying the story is extremely gratifying.

Thanks also to all who have alerted to the story and have marked it as a favorite. I've loved seeing that it is getting traffic from literally all over the world. I hope you enjoy Chapter Eight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ NCIS ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Twisted Brother

Chapter Eight

"Is This How It Ends?"

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Leroy Jethro Gibbs took in the sight of Agent Mallory's pale face and his very nervous demeanor. "Oh?" was all he said. He wasn't inclined to make it easy on the man if he had anything at all to do with Tony's disappearance and subsequent injuries.

Mallory cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, looking around as if he could find a way to escape what was coming. Vance stayed seated at his desk and just waited. Finally, Mallory exhaled noisily and sat back down. Gibbs leaned against the wall, arms crossed; his expression unreadable.

Hunching over and looking down at his hands which hung loosely between his knees, Bryce's voice was full of emotion as he began to speak. "Agent Gibbs, please believe me. I had no idea what was going on until late yesterday." He paused, as if to gather himself for what he had to say next. Looking up, his eyes were filled with emotional pain when he spoke.

"I think my brother has Tony. And he'll kill him to get to Agent McGee and Sarah."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ NCIS ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

About that time, in the bullpen, Sarah McGee was thinking hard. She knew she wasn't trained like the agents, but she also wasn't as exhausted as they were and had the advantage of not being quite so close to the investigation. Like all of them, Sarah had already figured out that somehow she and Tim were involved; she just couldn't understand what the connection to Tony was. But suddenly, as she puzzled over the words in the "clue" sent in the email, it hit her.

"Heather," she blurted out of nowhere. "It's all about Heather. She's the key." Tim and Ziva looked at her in confusion. "Heather was involved in Seaman Petty's murder, remember? Back when I was accused of killing him? She was his girlfriend. And the word 'brothers' – Tim's my brother and he's a writer. Don't you see it? The clues: heather jp lying writing brothers choate? If whoever did this sees Tim as a liar, it all has to be connected."

Agent Ziva David cocked her pretty head to one side considering. "I can see Heather's involvement, but how do 'jp' and 'choate' figure in? What is a 'choate' anyway?"

Tim had been scanning through various websites as Sarah was talking. "It's not a what, Ziva; Choate is a 'who'. JP must be John Patters. And…." His voice trailed off momentarily as his fingers literally flew so fast no one could follow them. "Aha!" McGee didn't stop to think how melodramatic the 'Aha!' sounded, and how Tony would razz him if he were there. "There was an Adam Choate who was released from prison several months ago, before Patters got transferred to Petersburg, Virginia! So maybe Choate met Patters and is doing his dirty work." His voice sounded triumphant.

"Except, Timothy," Ducky interjected. "How is Patters connected with Heather? Patters wanted Tony dead, not you. You weren't even working here when Tony and Gibbs arrested him. And he certainly doesn't have any connection to your sister." Tim's shoulders slumped in momentary defeat. "I don't know, Ducky. I never even met Patters, and never heard of Adam Choate before today." He voice went from jubilant to discouraged, and he tiredly rolled his neck, closing his eyes in frustration, jumping slightly as Abby slammed her fist down on a desk.

"We must think people! We must ponder and consider and contemplate and imagine and reflect and envision and study and think and consider; wait, I think I'm repeating myself." Abby's voice was confident, in spite of the rambling nature of her words.

"We must be vigilant and above all, we must be like James Bond in Gone With the Wind. Or like Indiana Jones in Casablanca! We must persevere, just as Tony would for do for us. We must leave no stone unturned, no movie reference unuttered. Tony would never give up, never retreat, never say die – oh! Oh! No, no, did I just say 'die' and 'Tony' in the same sentence? That's bad Karma. Forget I said that. Forget I was even here." And Abby looked down, seemingly not seeing the astonishment on the faces of everyone in the room. All had been subject to "Abby-rants" before, but none of them could recall ever hearing quite the mixing of references as she had done this time.

Gibbs, along with Director Vance and a subdued looking Agent Mallory chose that moment to come down the stairs. "She's right about one thing," Gibbs' voice sounded almost as tired as the rest of them felt. "We won't give up. And Agent Mallory here is going to lead us to our missing man."

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The object of Abby's soliloquy, one Very Sick Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was at that moment wondering just how and why these things always seemed to happen to him. He had awakened a few minutes after the gunshot had sounded, wondering for about the 100th time in the last few days what the hell was going on.

His leg was throbbing and he felt like he was suffocating. But even though the room was nearly dark since Blake Mehi had not turned the light on before he'd started beating him, Tony soon figured out the problem. Blake's body was sprawled across him. Tony had just barely managed to get control of the gun before it went off, and since the barrel had been pointed directly at Blake's heart, he was definitely very, very dead. And almost crushing Tony beneath his weight.

Before he completely grasped the situation and in a slight panic at the pressure on his chest, DiNozzo heaved the dead man off of him. It only took him a few seconds to realize that may have been a mistake.

Blake's body rolled and landed about two feet away from the foot of the bed, face down on the floor. DiNozzo took a moment to pray that first, the key to the handcuffs was in Blake's pocket, and second—he hadn't rolled out of his reach. Though he knew he was finally free of both of his captors, he also realized it was likely no one knew where he was and he could easily die before anyone found him.

Taking a moment to gather his strength, he began working his sore and abused body around, trying to get close enough to Blake to search him for the key.

An hour later, Tony was exhausted and knew he had to rest and try to stop the bleeding, or reaching the key would no longer matter. His wound had already been infected, and after it had been so badly mistreated, it was sluggishly oozing blood. At first the blood loss hadn't seemed too bad, but now it was slowly soaking the bed beneath him, and he recognized the signs proving he was getting dangerously weak.

He was cold, even though he knew his fever was still high. And he was too light headed. Logically, since he hadn't eaten much lately, he knew he was weakened by lack of food, but he also knew this feeling went beyond any malnourishment. With a huge sigh, he stopped his struggling to reach his dead tormentor and turned his attention to his leg.

It was another 30 minutes or so before he had any kind of a dressing in place. He'd been able to loosen the remnants of the ace bandage that had been placed there hours before, and using his teeth and left hand to rip the threadbare blanket into strips, he'd managed to wad up enough of it to make a pad of sorts. Securing it with what was left of the ace wrap; he waited a few more minutes to see if the bleeding slowed. To his dismay, the blood was soon seeping through both the pad and the makeshift binding.

With another heartfelt sigh, he managed to get his belt off and fashion a tourniquet. He disliked that option, knowing the inherent risks of losing circulation for too long, but didn't see he had much choice at this point. Finally, fresh blood stopped staining the bandage and he laid his head back, utterly spent. Wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and give in to the alluring darkness that seemed to hover somewhere just beyond his vision, he resisted the urge, knowing that giving in would be a very bad decision on several counts.

"DiNozzo," he muttered to himself, "Suck it up. Gibbs won't be happy if you just give up. This is nothing. DiNozzos don't pass out, and they sure as hell don't quit." Allowing himself only a few moments of rest, he resumed his attempts to reach Blake's body. But soon realizing it just wasn't going to happen like this, he understood that somehow, he'd have to figure out a way to expend a little more energy; energy he wasn't at all sure he still had.

Tony DiNozzo was in pain. He was weakened from days of abuse and lack of food. He knew he was dehydrated and that the fever and blood loss were taking their toll on his body. But he knew he couldn't stop trying, and not just because he didn't particularly want to die today. He knew if he didn't make it; if the team didn't find him in time, then Sarah and Tim were in danger. And that he could not tolerate. So, determination showing itself in every line of his worn out body, he dug deep inside himself for the strength to make one more Herculean effort. Not sure how he was going to be able to accomplish it, he knew he had to move the bed so he could get close enough to search for the key. He just hoped his body would cooperate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ NCIS ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gibbs reviewed what Mallory had shared with him and Vance with the rest of the team. "Mallory's got a brother; name is Mehi. We believe he's responsible for DiNozzo's abduction."

"Blake Mehi," Mallory supplied. "And he's my half brother; we had the same mother. I haven't seen him since I was about 14." A glare from Gibbs, who hadn't decided if he was going to kill Bryce or promote him for his part in the mess, stopped Mallory from saying anything else.

"Right." Gibbs continued; his face a mask of fury and resolve. "Mehi has another half brother; seems their Mother was a bit on the 'active' side. That brother's name is Beau. Beau Tate. Does Tate ring a bell with anyone?"

Tim's face, which was already drawn and pale, turned a sickly green. He immediately turned to his keyboard; then clicked the remote. "Uh, yeah boss." The plasma screen came alive, this time with a picture of Security Officer Tate; who along with the cheerleader, Madison Johnson, had been convicted of killing Seaman Petty. "Beau Tate went to prison, he was convicted of 2nd degree murder; Madison was convicted of manslaughter."

Agent David had also started doing some research as soon as Mallory had identified his brother. "Gibbs, Tate died in prison 18 months ago." Her fingers continued to type, almost as fast as McGee's were. "And Madison is still in Alderson Federal Prison Camp."

Agent Mallory looked down, not wanting to face any of the team members. "Blake was always close to Beau. I went and lived with my Dad when he split up with our Mom when I was about six. Blake stayed with Mom, and Beau was born only a few months later. They're only a year apart in age; that's why Dad left her. She was pregnant with Beau by then, and he knew he wasn't the father. Blake's always been the angry kind, mad at the world. He would be livid at Beau's death. But I can't figure out how Blake ties in with John and Ian Patters or Madison Johnson."

Abby, not to be outdone, had signed onto Tony's computer and was searching for information as well. "Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" Her excited voice joined the others. "I think this is important." Her lovely face turned toward the lead agent, and she impatiently motioned for McGee to put her information on the screen. "Look!" She pointed at vital statistic records she had accessed and that were now displayed.

Gibbs squinted at the screen for a moment and then walked over to Abby, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "Good work, Agent Scuito. That's the missing piece we've been looking for."

Heading toward the elevator at a fast trot, he didn't need to issue any orders. His team and Agent Mallory, along with Ducky and Jimmy Palmer, had already grabbed their gear and were right behind him. At the last second, Sarah McGee darted into the elevator too. "Don't try and stop me!" She shook her finger in Gibbs' face. "I'm going with you. This is as much my fault as anyone's."

"It's no one's fault, Sarah," Gibbs voice was firm, but he made no effort to stop her. Tim slipped his arm around her shoulders as Ducky spoke for all of them. "Let's go get our boy, Jethro." The resolve in his voice echoed the sentiments of everyone.

"And bring him back to me, Jethro? Please?" Abby's eyes pleaded with them. Just before the elevator door closed, Gibbs nodded at her. "We will, Abs, we will."

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Tony DiNozzo knew he was running out of time. He had been working for almost two hours since placing the tourniquet; stopping to loosen it periodically. So far he'd only managed to move the bed about six inches. But he was pretty sure he only needed another couple of tries and he'd be close enough. After tightening the belt around his leg for what he hoped was the last time, he gave a mighty heave and was rewarded by feeling the bed scoot at least 4 inches closer to his objective.

Pausing to rest for only a moment, he was elated when his right hand finally was able to grab Blake's arm. Using what little strength he had left, he pulled the man closer and began searching his pockets, praying he'd locate the key. Finally, luck was with him. He found it in the second place he looked. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, he lost little time in releasing his left arm from the cuffs.

Then, free for the first time in hours, he literally fell off the bed. Hoping Mehi had a cell phone on him, he methodically searched the man. But this time fortune didn't favor him. No phone. Not able to suppress a groan, he looked at the stairs just beyond the open door. They seemed as tall as Mt. Everest, and about as insurmountable. Hoping he had enough energy left to drag his weary body up them, he reminded himself one more time that he could do this.

"No point in delaying, DiNozzo. Quit stalling and get your ass up those stairs. Gibbs won't be happy if he finds your body down here. Rule number 45 – got to get out of this mess myself." If Tony's head had been a little clearer, he'd have realized he didn't have that quite right; Rule 45 was actually "always clean up your own mess". But at this point, he didn't much care. With that thought pounding in his brain, he began the laborious process of getting up the stairs.

Grabbing the rail, he tried standing, but when he regained consciousness a few minutes later, sprawled on his back at the bottom of the stairs, he realized that probably wasn't going to be an option. Which left him managing to sort of half crawl—half pull—himself along.

DiNozzo was a stubborn man. He'd been badly injured before, and had always managed to find a way out. He began calling himself every name he could think of: stupid, lazy, obstinate, idiotic, pigheaded, reckless, irresponsible; just to motivate himself to keep trying.

He almost made it. He didn't pass out until he reached the top of the stairs. His last conscious thought, as he caught sight of a cell phone where it had been left on the kitchen counter was, "Is this how it ends?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ NCIS ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mallory had provided information as to several possible locations that Blake might have taken Tony to. Though he hadn't seen his half brother in years, he had kept in contact off and on, and knew Blake had made a lot of money in the markets years before. He knew he had several real estate holdings, scattered all over the DC area. He had already reviewed them with Gibbs and Vance, and they were armed with a list of likely prospects.

Gibbs sent both McGees and Ziva David, along with Palmer, to those that were closest to NCIS headquarters, while he, Mallory and Ducky headed to those farther out. Hoping he'd get a call from Ziva before they reached their first destination, Gibbs drove like a mad man, screeching up to the driveway of their first address.

Even as his cell phone was ringing, with the report from Ziva that Tony hadn't been at their first objective, he could quickly tell that DiNozzo wasn't at this house either. The startled look on the faces of the twin girls, age about 7, along with the confusion of their mother convinced him of that. She confirmed that they rented the home from a management company; but she had never heard of either Blake Mehi or Agent DiNozzo. "For that matter," she called after Gibbs' quickly retreating back, "I've never heard of NCIS, either!"

The long evening got longer as the hours passed and there was no sign of their missing Agent. Finally, they had only one address left, and it was out in Laurel, still an hour away. Calling McGee and David, and instructing them to meet them there, Gibbs drove way beyond the speed limit, and they pulled up to the last possibility a mere 45 minutes later. It was a smaller home, ranch style with a full basement. No lights were on and it looked deserted. Of course, all the houses on the street appeared that way, which really wasn't too surprising considering that by this time it was 1:30 in the morning.

"Doesn't look very hopeful, does it Jethro?" Ducky tried to keep his voice upbeat, but he was growing increasingly worried about Tony. "Well, we may as well check, as long as we are here."

But Gibbs was already out of the car, gun drawn. "Duck, stay in the car until I give the order. Mallory, you go around back. This is it; he's here."

Ducky got back in the car, not even questioning how Gibbs knew it. Instead, he grasped his medical bag a little more tightly, hoping and praying he and its contents would be needed. Watching Gibbs approach the front door, he held his breath.

"NCIS. Open up!" Gibbs shout was followed a split second later by a mighty kick, which easily broke the door lock, slamming the door against the frame with a loud crash.

A few moments went by, then lights started coming on all over the house. The next thing Ducky realized, he was already out of the car and sprinting for the door. He was met by a grim faced Mallory. "Hurry up! He's here, Dr. Mallord. But I'm afraid we might be too late."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ NCIS ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: Ok, that's it for chapter eight. I took a few liberties with names for Tate and Madison. I reviewed everything I could find on the episode "Twisted Sister," the one involving Sarah McGee, and couldn't find Tate's first name or Madison's last name, so I just made them up. Hope it is not too distracting.

One more chapter to go and it is mostly written; I'm in the process of finishing it and doing some final edits.

I hope you are continuing to enjoy this story; it's been a lot of been fun to write. Please review. I hope to post the final chapie, called "Really, Abby?" by the end of the weekend. Thanks.