AN: Finally! Sorry I went on a long holiday… Hope you will enjoy! Usual disclaimers…

Chapter 5: … and dead certainties.

"Did it really happen like that?", Tony asked curiously. He was leaning relaxed against the car. His whole composure breathed nonchalance; hands in his pockets, partly unbuttoned shirt. The hot August sun was baking the city and the long and boring wait for another delivery was turning into the perfect opportunity to get to know Peruch a little better.

After their first encounter, Tony felt like he already figured the guy out; charming and easy-going, attentive to the boss and ridiculing the world as it passed by.

But after a while he had to re-evaluate this first impression; it felt like a well rehearsed role everybody was made, even forced to see, while Peruch kept his thoughts to himself.

Slowly breaking through that brick wall in the last couple of weeks, Tony discovered he genuinely liked the guy. So when he asked his questions, he was personally intrigued as well when it came to Peruch's introduction to the hard way of the DeMarco's family.

"Did you really took a bullet for the boss?", he asked again when Peruch didn't answer immediately.

"Well, no, if you put it that way. I didn't know who he was then. I just reacted."

"Sure you're not a cop? Jumping in front of a swirling bullet like that?"

Cold water shredded the clouds of unconsciousness abruptly and brought him back to the reality of his current predicament. His sense of hearing was immediately aware of several voices across the room, although he couldn't hear what they were discussing. He recognized Jeremy and the man with the gun. Tony remembered his face, but was unable to recall the man's name. It was on the tip of his tongue, teasing his ignorance along with his stupidity of getting caught.

Stop it, he said to himself, self-reproach isn't helpful.

Nevertheless, one voice remained a mystery for now since the man was standing just outside the feeble beam of light that lit in the middle of the room. Here he was strapped to a chair; the chords around his arms and legs were already bruising his skin as he tried to move.

"Wake up, pretty boy.", Jeremy said grimly still holding the bucket, while water dripped to the floor. "The boss is here."

The man stepped into the light.

"Rafe DeMarco", Tony muttered and all the pieces fitted together.

"Let cut the crap, Agent Dinozzo. Tell me where you hid Peruch and I leave something for your friends to bury."

"Wow, that's generous of you, may I suggest that for future benefit, you ask these questions before your friends hit me repeatedly on the head. I've been told that amnesia is a rather common complication."

"See? This is my point exactly.", Tony continued smirking after DeMarco smacked him hard with the side of his hand. He tasted blood in corner of his mouth.

"Make him talk. I going to make a public appearance just to make sure."

And DeMarco left without looking back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at headquarters Gibbs and Ziva were questioning Nicholas Peruch or Nick Straga as he liked to be called, in the conference room.

"Why are you so certain it's you they want and not Tony?", Ziva asked.

"I know DeMarco, if he wanted revenge on Tony he would go for the direct approach. Why going through Frank? I would even go so far in suggesting that he actually wanted to leave Tony out of it. He knows how obsessive the cops can be when one of their own is involved. He always was the spoiled little brat of the two, got frightful tantrums back in the days when he didn't get what he wanted."

"For Tony's sake, I hope those anger management classes worked.", Ziva added anxious.

Gibbs doubted it, considering the damage on Millers' body, but refrained from uttering his dark thoughts. For one thing, Tony was far tougher than Millers would ever be and even he lasted for several days.

"Did you know Frank Millers?", Gibbs asked.

"Only by name, Tony told me that he helped creating a new identity for me and Clara, but he wasn't very talkative about the details. He probably didn't even gave crucial information to Frank.", Nick answered.

"Clara?"

"My wife, Agent Gibbs, but that is another story, for another day. We should focus on the ones who took Tony. DeMarco didn't act alone. Can't you pull up the files of his old accomplices; the ones who went to jail and the ones who escaped prosecution?"

Gibbs shook his head in annoyance.

"Almost all the files were destroyed in the archives. Not even a tenth was saved.", Ziva explained.

"Agent Gibbs, with your permission I would like to assist you. Tony didn't leave any paperwork with me but my memory would probably suffice in filling in the gaps, at least in finding a useful clue.", Nick stated solemnly and the lighthearted man suddenly became very serious.

"Ziva, you take his statement. I'm going to check on Abby." And with these words he rose quickly from his chair. Just before he walked in the hallway he picked up Nick's comment.

"O boy, I would really want to see him in action in Interrogation. Tony must enjoy those moments immensely."

Gibbs made a mental note that this man really knew Dinozzo well and wondered how they ever got so close in those brief months many, many years ago.

"One question, Mr. Straga…"

"Please call me Nick, Agent David, I lack the stomach for these formalities."

"OK, Nick then, how did you know Tony was in trouble?"

"He send me a prearranged message, a simple 'Get out'. Years ago, Tony and I agreed not to have contact, unless in certain conditions. I received one letter from him when he changed jobs so I would know where to contact him if I ever stumbled on trouble. But yesterday he sent me that warning with his cell phone."

"But you weren't in the contact list."

"Yes, I am, but under a false name: Andrew Foulkes."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Abby, McGee!"

His sudden appearance made them jump to their feet; an impossible task considering they both were busy connecting wires under Abby's desk. Still rubbing her head and holding electronic devises unknown to him, Gibbs could see the dark shades under her disappointed eyes.

"We have nothing, Gibbs.", Abby said, "McGee tried every trick in the book, but we really need the password."

"Nicolas Peruch turned up, Tony faked his death so I'll send him down the very minute Ziva finishes taking his statement. They're reconstructing the missing files as we speak.", he said speaking fast so it would soften the surprise. A method obviously designed to fail…

"What!", Abby almost screamed it out and began to jump up and down wanting to ask the million question that popped into her head. McGee was equally surprised, but refrained from commenting until he fully grasped the consequences of this news.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You know what I think?"

Tony gave Jeremy a sympathetic look, saying you can think?

"I think", Jeremy continued, "that you keep this cocky and arrogant mask on so you can hide your fears… and you should." He approached with a small pocket knife. Tony recognized it as Ziva's.

"Really, genius? I'm normally always this charming when I'm bound to a chair facing sharp objects.", Tony retorted defiantly with a wide grin. The fist that followed wasn't unexpected, nor was the following darkness.

"Peruch! Who was that fine girl back there? She's a beauty and by the sound of it, she put you in your place!"

"Hands off, Tony, she's spoken for and besides you're far too young to handle her."

"Oh, shut up, you're only four years older than me, give or take a few months. Besides I'm happy for you and me," Tony added, "because with you being in a fulltime monogamous relationship I'll have all the fun."

"You're absolutely horrible sometimes, you know?"

"But that's why you like me, isn't it?" Tony grinned widely and Nicolas could help himself. Soon they were discussing girls in general but Tony couldn't help but observe that Peruch wasn't acting like himself. The next couples of weeks weren't really exciting, so Tony noticed he didn't see the girl anymore and Peruch looked like an abandoned puppy when caught off guard, which rarely happened, but even then nobody else seemed to detect anything amiss.