Author's Note- Thank you for the follows and reviews! And guys there is really not going to be any Tiva in this. And thank you LAG0802 for your advice. I will change the point of view less, but I'm going to keep it first person.
Tony's POV- When I opened my eyes I instantly squeezed them shut again, due to the bright light slipping through the open door. My concussion was not making this easy on me. I opened my eyes again but this time cautiously, preparing myself for the pounding in my head. As expected it felt as if someone was playing a drum in my skull, but this time I was able to keep my eyes open.
I assessed the room I was in and found it to be barren and unpleasant. The room was dark except from bright light escaping through the foot of which the door was open. The cracked cement floor I was laying on was icy beneath me, and it seemingly sucked away my energy. The walls were painted a dark grey, making the unfurnished space gloomy. I inched my way forward to examine why the door was open but found I was incapable of movement. No matter how hard I tried, not a single muscle would move more than half an inch. I started to panic but I soothed myself so I wouldn't go into shock. They must have just given you a muscle relaxant, the detective in me deduced.
Before I had even remotely came close to forming a plan the door opened. In came three hooded figures, but none of them could be Jeff because they lacked the bulkiness.
"Get him up," ordered the tallest one. I made a mental note to not underestimate the shortest one, for he easily bent down and scooped my heavy form up by himself. He held me up from the back of my collar, and the position caused me to have an extremely arduous time breathing.
"Take him to Jeff," the tall man stated. The short one nodded briskly and dragged me out of the room, but the others stayed in the room speaking to each other. I strained to hear the words but they disappeared as I got farther away. I was dragged down a hallway painted the the color as the room I was in, and not lighted much better too. I tried to observe the turns we were taking already planning ahead to escaping, but after two right and three left turns I abandoned the idea. My concussion was making any train of thought impossible, not to mention the warehouse I was in was practically a maze.
After a couple more turns, a few which were wrong, the man must have finally found his destination because he opened a door and threw me in. I rolled a couple times before coming to a stop, once again marveling how strong the man had been. The new room I was in was small, maybe only five feet long and wide. The floor was wood but not any warmer than the previous concrete. This time though, there was no light source besides the crack from beneath the door. I couldn't tell the colors of the walls, but I assumed it was the same color as the rest of the warehouse.
I was not given much time to collect myself before the door was thrown open. In stepped Jeff and I rolled my eyes in disgust. "There you are, looking as lovely as ever," I quipped with a false smile.
"I wish I could say the same for you," he replied matching my fake grin. He flicked a light switch and light immediately filled the room. The sudden change of light increased the thrumming in my head, but I managed to keep my eyes open at a squint.
"Why did the building collapse?" I asked breaking the blanket of silence that covered the room.
"Put a bomb there. It has effects that are similar to an earthquake. Mark was supposed to get the money from the upstairs vault." I must have looked surprised because he said, "which I suppose you didn't know about." I didn't know why he was explaining himself to me, but I figured that it wasn't a hopeful sign. That usually means I was going to die, and probably soon at that. Gibbs will find you before that, I reassured myself.
"We didn't even want a hostage," the man continued. "But Mark said you could be worth the same amount of money that we were going to steal from the vault, that true?" He looked at me waiting for a response, but I did not satisfy him with one. He swiftly crossed the room in long strides and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I asked you a question," he spoke through clenched teeth.
"No," I responded, only to see the look on his face when he realized he wasn't going to get his precious money. He let go of my chin and I saw his face, his features were tightened in anger and he turned a light shade of red. I relished in the fact that I had caused his fury, and I knew replying had been worth it.
"And why is that?" he demanded his voice menacingly quiet.
"For starters, NCIS won't negotiate with you. Even if they did they probably don't care enough. Then, if you planned to ask ransom from my father, he wouldn't care. And even if he did, there still is the problem of him being broke. No one else cares so, looks like your Mark didn't think this one through. You know what they say, if you want something done, you have to do it yourself." I threw him another wide grin but said no more. I was already breaking NCIS protocol by speaking to him, and I knew that provoking him would be unbelievable to some other agents.
"Well, I won't make that mistake again," he reassured me. "Besides I wouldn't bother yourself with it; you won't be alive to care." I didn't allow that comment get to me, and I chose to simply ignore it.
"How did you know Mark would get out?" I asked curiosity still growing inside me.
"He was in an area where he couldn't really be hurt. Also he was wearing a protective vest under his shirt, and we told him to duck underneath the desk. Fat lot of good it did us." He looked over at me and he pulled back his leg. He let out his kick, and it caught me in my already broken or cracked right ribs. I bit my bottom lip to not cry out, but I still inhaled sharply. The deep breath caused me lots of pain, but I chose to ignore it.
"No more questions."