Gibbs punched his keyboard with his index fingers, not expecting the keys he hit to produce useful effects on his screen. He didn't have any information to access, anyway. Picking up his coffee cup, he discovered that a walk outside would be just the thing to clear his head. Tempted as he was to blame Tony and Ziva for allowing themselves to be kidnapped, another coffee would likely lead him to the conclusion that it wasn't entirely their fault. Not entirely.

"I'll be back in five," he announced as he walked out of the bullpen, drawing no comments from either of the team members present, not even after the elevator doors had closed. He snapped his cell phone shut. There was no reason to monitor the situation via speakerphone during the short interval he'd be gone and McGee and Sampson technically had every right to say things they may not want him to hear. Or, more likely, if Sampson wanted to hear long, complicated stories above and beyond the official briefing he'd gotten about what had happened to possibly lead to Tony and Ziva's current misadventure, McGee was the professional novelist. Gibbs had no desire to go through it all over again.

He wasn't even convinced that previous events were linked – or he hadn't been given all the information that would convince him there was a clear link. Even given the circumstances, Jen had not yet shared information of any value. She had made it clear during their briefing that whatever had happened in Morocco, regardless of its potential importance to finding Tony and Ziva, was not going to be discussed unless it became unavoidable. Gibbs had not yet gotten to a point where he felt calm enough to go back to MTAC and yell at her.

He nodded to the young girl behind the counter as he stepped into DC Blend and she immediately sprang into action with a bright smile. "Third cup already, huh? Must be a tough one." She kept up her chatter even without any encouragement, "I think we're the only shop in the area still turning a profit. No matter what happens, we can always count on you, right, Agent Gibbs?"

He smiled in spite of himself. "I…y'know, gimme two more."

"Well, I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, like you're the only one keeping us open!"

"No. I'm just…" He handed over his money without completing the thought. He didn't need to tell the friendly coffee girl that it was the kind of day that they whole team needed a lift. McGee and Sampson had done their jobs at the crime scene – at both crime scenes, in fact – under difficult conditions and there was no reason he shouldn't bring them something. They weren't giving him any less than their best.

Evading further unwanted banter with the coffee girl, he walked out with his cardboard tray in one hand, phone in the other. He hadn't somehow missed an important call, so there hadn't been any headway in the past few minutes. Major breakthroughs entailed a phone call; minor breakthroughs involved cowering and apologies that they weren't major breakthroughs. He sighed and picked up a Caf-Pow on his way back from the coffee shop.

Music was conspicuously absent when he arrived in Abby's lab. He set the large plastic cup on the central workstation without saying hello. He set his tray of coffees down a moment later when he'd had time to become concerned about her trembling lip. She suddenly launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in an embrace that made him happy he'd known her long enough to always inhale before she attained maximum constriction. "They're gonna be fine, Abby."

"How do you know that?"

"They've been fine the past few times."

"Fine?" She exploded away from him, flailing her arms as she began to pace. "Tony and Ziva have been kidnapped by mystery goons, and Ziva may already be bleeding, which is not a good sign, given how many times I've visited her in the hospital. Not that I mind going to the hospital when my friends are there, but I'm sure you understand that it's much nicer when they just stop by my lab and…" Gibbs inhaled again and Abby said directly into his ear, "Bring them back."

He waited until he could breathe again to say, "We're workin' on it. Why did you say Ziva's already bleeding?"

"The sample on the pavement matched her blood type, but it's too early for DNA, so I can't be sure yet. There wasn't really much else to go on from the scene, but I thought I could look at the traffic cameras around their apartment to try and track the car the witness described. Maybe we can get the license plate and an idea of which direction they went."

"That's good work, Abs. Let me know…"

"The second I have something, you will know about it. Maybe not the same second, depending on how long it takes me to dial and how long it takes you to answer your phone, unless you use your magic and appear…"

He picked up his tray of coffees and made his way out of the room before she finished. Only slightly later than discovering the secret to surviving one of Abby's hugs had Gibbs discovered that she would keep talking if you kept standing there. Her idea about the traffic cameras was a good one and he needed her on that.

"McGee! Sampson! Here!" he called gruffly as he reentered the bullpen.

McGee accepted the tray Gibbs thrust toward him. "Thanks, boss." Sampson accepted a cup with some alarm and Gibbs was almost sure McGee whispered something about it not being poisoned. Sampson ducked behind the partition where his desk was located, still apparently unsure about the coffee.

They were going to have to rearrange the bullpen soon to fix that, but for now…. "Sampson, park your ass somewhere that I can see you."

He watched as Sampson tentatively moved toward Ziva's desk, then toward Tony's. McGee eventually stood and guided him toward Ziva's. "What should I…"

"You two have any thoughts about finding them?" Gibbs ended up waving his hand toward only Tony's desk, as Sampson was now in Ziva's chair, being careful not to touch anything.

"Don't you think someone will be contacting us soon?"

"Well, I'm sure Tony and Ziva would be happy to hear you're just planning to sit here until someone calls us with ransom demands, McGee."

"I just meant…we'll be able to trace a call or an email or however they choose to contact us and that will give us a solid lead to help us…"

"Abby is looking through footage from traffic cameras."

McGee pouted slightly behind his coffee cup. "Doesn't seem like a very efficient way to…" He looked up. "Well, with only one person. Should Sampson and I…"

"Gibbs!"

He discovered he still wasn't ready to have a composed conversation as he looked up at the catwalk. "Yes, Director?"

"There's a man trying to come through security downstairs. Go get him and bring him to my office."

Although he was tempted to suggest that perhaps one of the agents downstairs should handle escort duties, he didn't trust himself to say it without profane modifiers. He stood without replying, clipped his weapon to his belt and walked toward the elevator. Somewhere above him, Jen added, "McGee, you and Sanders go with him."

That was enough. Gibbs turned and looked up. "His name is Sampson."

She narrowed her eyes as she looked down. "Fine. I'm more concerned about the name of the man downstairs."

"Which is?" Gibbs knew she had heard him, even though she had already walked away. He stepped into the elevator, followed by what was left of his team. They were smart enough not to speak.

A graying, older man stood just outside the metal detectors in the lobby when they arrived. He was arguing with the security guard, "You must let me through. I have important information that I must give directly to Director Shepard."

"Sir, you have to wait until…"

"What's going on here?" Gibbs interrupted.

"Agent Gibbs, this man is insisting that…"

"You are Gibbs?"

Playing a hunch based on the man's accent, he replied, "Da."

"Then you know who I am?"

"Oh, yeah," Gibbs lied. "You can introduce yourself to these two on our way up to the Director's office." He waved the man through, noting that the metal detector didn't go off.

After two jerks of his head, McGee got Gibbs' hint and said, "I'm Agent McGee and this is Agent Sampson, Mr…?"

"Nozdryov. Alexander Nozdryov."

"Nice to…meet you."

From McGee's reaction, Gibbs understood that he had recognized the name as well. The situation was even worse than he'd feared if this man were really Dmitri Tushkevich's father.