Author's Note- Ok, so I see a lot of people found my changing point of view confusing. I thought that it would add to the story, but due to the many guest reviews from now on I will be adding in the point of view before it switches. Thank you for all the reviews! And if there was any questions about how the man survived and how the building collapsed; it will hopefully be in this chapter.

Jeff's POV-

What was taking so long? We had given him literally everything that he could possibly need. The bomb had been placed correctly, and according to Mark and it had gone undetected. So where was Mark with the at? My other source inside the building, placed to survey Mark, had reported that Mark had been fine, excluding a few possible bruises and cuts. And my video showed him being helped out of the debris by a women. While that wasn't part of the plan he must of heard her and carefully placed a groan to not raise any suspicions. But I couldn't check to see if he had retrieved the money from the secret bank vault upstairs, because my video camera had died. That's what you get for being paranoid and surveying the building for three weeks before you actually planned the heist. I was getting frustrated with Mark's results, nevertheless. I might have to deal with him when he got back, or at the very least threaten him. My men had to be more efficient than this. And the guy couldn't even imagine what would happen to him if he did not have the money.

The man (Mark) POV-

We arrived at the warehouse late, and this caused me to worry quite a bit because Jeff hated it when I was late. But it really wasn't my fault there had been traffic or that the van did not come with a full tank of gas. He would understand that, right?

The warehouse I was pulling up to was rusty, old and abandoned. It was the building I had been reluctantly forced to call home. It always smelled like fish, and I had grown to hate the scent. A river with white rapids ran by the warehouse, and sometimes the river would overflow and flood the warehouse with water. There was still at least a inch of murky water in the basement that remained from the storm that had occurred over a week ago. More like a mini hurricane.

I didn't recall the memory fondly for that was the day that Jeff had forced me to leave behind my family, besides my sister. This train of thought made me think of many unpleasant memories, all with the common factor of Jeff. He had made me do so many things, but I couldn't do anything about it. Not while he still had my sister anyway, I wouldn't risk hurting her. I had to blink away tears just thinking about her. She was so beautiful and innocent; I would never be able to forgive myself for getting her caught up in my mess. She was only twelve, and she should be in middle school right now, not tied to a pole it another one of Jeff's warehouses. I thought about her beautiful smiled that always lit up her eyes, and her blonde and brown hair that rested on her shoulders in waves. She looked older than she was and acted that way too.

I took a deep breath and dismissed these thoughts. I replaced my soft, tear filled face with a hard and emotionless one. If Jeff thought that I was getting soft then he would fire me, and if he fired me I knew there would be no use for my sister.

I clambered out of the car unsmoothly, my legs stiff from sitting still for so long. I went to the back of the car to release the hostage, but hesitated. How would I explain this to Jeff? Jeff had made it clear that he had wanted the money, but he had to understand there was no way to have reached it. I'm not superman.

One time I had argued that to Jeff, to which he had replied, 'that's what you're training suppose to do.' I was becoming terrified for not have reaching Jeff's unmasked high standards. But the man could be ransomed off for the same price, if I asked the right person. Yeah, that would work out. I opened the trunk and found Tony was still lying there motionless. I grabbed him by his elbow and pulled him up, and after a few seconds some of the weight lessened. Tony was blinking rapidly but his eyes didn't seem to be able to focus on anything. He wasn't putting any weight on the leg I had stabbed, and he seemed to be in severe pain.

"Walk faster." And to his credit he did actually appear to try to. But notice the 'try' in that statement. He attempted to move his injured left leg for the first time and an audible gasp came from his lips. He went limp in my arms for a few agonizingly long moments unable to support any of his own weight. But after he seemed to regain his balance and dignity and was able to move mostly on his own and at a reasonable pace.

I pushed open the single brown door and stepped inside nervously, but not before I took a deep breath.

Tony's POV-

I woke up a few times in pain when my clumsy driver would hit a pothole or bump. I didn't really remember what happened, only bits and pieces. I remembered a building collapsing on me, extreme pain, and that was it. I knew I had a broken arm and something was definitely wrong with my thigh. But I was more worried about my breaths coming in quickly, but yet not fulfilling my need for air. I experimented with holding my breath and found that released quite a bit a pain, but I wasn't stupid and I knew I needed to breath. I concluded that broken ribs were responsible for the pain in my chest. The darkness attempted to grasp me again, and weakly I allowed myself to slip into the painless sleep.

I awoke groggily again to find someone holding me up by my elbow. I immediately tried to regain my dignity by claiming back some of my own weight. I tried to see what was in front of me but found my eyesight was blurry at the very best. I tried to blink away the blurriness and black dots that were dancing at the edge of my eyesight again, but I didn't have much success. I didn't dare and try to put any weight on my left leg because though I wasn't in pain, something in the back of my mind warned me I would be if I attempted to.

"Walk faster," my captor commanded me. That's when I decided to make the brilliant decision of putting pressure on my opposite leg. A gasp made it's way through my chapped lips, and there wasn't much I could do from halting it. Any thought of supporting myself was not only lost, but also unfathomable for a few moments. Breath through the pain, I reminded myself of the doctor's words from my last concussion visit. This was much worse than any concussion, but nevertheless I took a deep breath. After multiple of these the pain started to disperse to more bearable levels, and I regained my balance and control over my body.

I shuffled forward as fast as I could manage; which was not surprisingly not very fast. The man still gripped my elbow tightly, but he no longer glanced over at me and I assumed he was confident I was not going anywhere. Heck, I'm confident I'm not going anywhere.

When we finally reached the destination I had struggled so much to arrive to, the man inhaled deeply. The door was brown and simple, and the only other color on it was the darker shades of brown that belonged to mud and dirt. He pushed through it after a hesitation, as if he didn't want to know what he would behind it. I found myself not wanting to either, and that shocked my normally tough self. But I refused to let that get to me.

When we entered my nose attacked with the scent of fish. I scrunched up my face and the man smirked when he noticed.

"I wish I could say it gets better." he offered. He looked like he was going to say something else, but at that moment a furious looking man stormed in.

"Why are you so late, Mark?!" My captor, Mark, cringed knowing it was true.

"Jeff, you didn't give me enough gas.." he spoke with his voice barely above a whisper. I noticed Jeff turn his glare to me. Did I know Jeff? He seemed familiar, something about his unnerving grey eyes. Or his large muscular build… Before I could place his face he started fuming.

"Why do you have Agent DiNozzo with you?!" his face was now as red as the blood smeared across my entire shirt. Then it snapped into place, I had put him away for ten years for murders of three petty officers. The case had probably been around a couple years ago, he definitely should not be out yet. I had received one or two death threats from him, but I had dismissed them easily. I have the absolute worst luck ever.

"I… I couldn't…" Mark was stuttering uncontrollably and this seemed to annoy Jeff. Jeff sighed then approached me, muttering they would discuss it later. He studied me for a few minutes and I returned his stare, despite the pain it took to even lift my head. He must of tired of this because he pulled a gun from the back of his waistband and brought it done on the side of my head with all his strength. That's gonna leave a mark. But thankfully I lost my clutch on consciousness and welcomed the dark with open arms.