Chapter 25 – Playing with Fire

Tony DiNozzo

March 1933

"Hey, McGee."

Tim looked up and saw Tony standing in the doorway. "Hey Tony. What can I do for you?"

"Still working huh?" he asked as he slowly entered Tim's office.

Tim looked down at the paperwork in front of him. "Yeah. These assets aren't going to move themselves."

He smiled slightly at that. "Even after a month? I thought you'd be done by now."

Tim snorted and leaned back in his chair, idly twirling his pen. "You have no idea how much work it has been."

"I think I have a pretty good idea, Tim," Tony replied. "You've been here more often than not for the last month." Tim shrugged in concession. Their plan was working. They wanted to drive Napolitano out of business and that meant more work for McGee. "And I understand why. It just stinks."

"I can't argue with that," Tim replied drolly.

"So, uh, well…"

"What's wrong?" Tim asked concerned.

He fidgeted like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He felt ridiculous for being nervous. And he felt really ridiculous for being nervous to tell McGee about his plans. Screwing up his nerve, he took a seat.

"Ok, so look," he said. "I have a date with Ziva. Like an actual real date at a real nice restaurant."

"You got her to talk to you again," Tim said in surprise.

"We've been talking for a little while," he countered. "You just haven't noticed because you've been too wrapped up with Abby when we're at Quicksilver. When are you two going to admit your dating?"

"We're not dating," Tim insisted.

"For not dating, you're sure doing the horizontal tango quite a lot," he countered.

"Don't change the subject," Tim said sourly. "When's this date?"

"It's tonight," he said to Tim's surprise. "I know, who goes on a fancy dinner date on a Wednesday?"

"That wasn't what I was going to ask," Tim said.

"But it was the first night that Abby could book a guest singer," he continued, ignoring Tim. "And I kinda don't want to wait because I don't want to risk making Ziva mad at me again. I know it's going to put you out but I really was hoping you wouldn't mind."

"Tony," he said. "It's fine. So, you want to pack me off to the apartment?" Tim asked as he leaned back in his chair, a slight smile on his face. "It's only four-thirty and in case you haven't noticed, I am pretty busy here."

He looked at Tim. He had a feeling his partner was objecting just for the sake of it. He was pretty sure that Jimmy wouldn't begrudge him an early day after all the work he'd put in lately. Liquidating Jimmy's assets and moving them off shore hadn't been easy especially when Tim had to keep track of them so that they could retrieve them after they arrested Jimmy. Fortunately, Jimmy had his retirement locale picked out all ready.

"I wasn't suggesting you leave," he said hastily. "But if you think you should, I could talk to Mr. Napolitano…"

"Tony," Tim said cutting him off. "It's fine," Tim emphasized. "I can leave whenever I want. It isn't like I'm not earning my pay." He nodded in concession. "Besides, Jimmy isn't here. He left at lunch and told me he wasn't planning to come back to the office."

"Oh," he said. "All right then. I'm going home to clean up and get ready. If you want you can come with but I'm going to have to bring Jim Kidwell with us anyway."

"Is there something I should know about?" Tim asked in alarm.

He shook his head. "No," he replied. "Nothing concrete, anyway. But you said that La Grenouille snapped up that club, Santorini Villa, last week."

Tim nodded. "Jimmy is pissed but there isn't anything he can do about it. It's manager, Charles Harrow, sold it to Grenouille."

"I'm surprised Jimmy let him get away with it," he said in shock.

"He 'let' him get away with it because Harrow died of a heart attack," Tim replied with a snort. "But not before Harrow turned over the deed," Tim said. "There's nothing Jimmy can do about it!"

"Bad luck there," he said. "Anyway, Harrow might not be the only one who's thinking about jumping ship and grabbing you would be a good way to make nice with the Frog. So, either you stay and Jim Kidwell sees you home or you come home with me and Jim Kidwell comes with us."

"I'm surprised I didn't know about this date," Tim said.

"Oh," Tony said as he looked away. "Well I didn't want to risk jinxing it by telling you. You know the last time I planned a big date, I…"

"Stuck your foot in your mouth?" Tim offered helpfully.

"Yeah," Tony replied slumping.

"Have fun. You deserve a nice night out with Ziva," Tim said. "Besides, I'm going to be here late. I'm still sorting out the paperwork to transfer Napolitano's money elsewhere."

"You've been working on that for over a month. How long could it take?" he asked.

"I don't think you realize how much Napolitano has," Tim said with a sigh. "This is just the start. Even after he absconds to Cuba, I'll still need to work to get his operation shut down."

"Ok, whatever McDictionary. Absconds?" he said as he rolled his eyes and stood up.

"It means…"

"I know what it means," Tony said. "Jim is in the lounge. He'll see you back to the apartment and stay with you until I get home, which might be very late."

"Or tomorrow?" Tim asked slyly.

"I dunno," he said skeptically. Not only wasn't he sure that Ziva had forgiven him enough to get that far but he also wasn't sure he wanted to leave Tim alone for that long. He trusted Jim Kidwell to look after Tim but he trusted himself more. "We'll be at Valentino's if you need to get in touch with me. We have reservations for seven o'clock. But I hope that you don't."

"I hope that I don't either," Tim replied. "Enjoy yourself, Tony."

Nodding, he hurried back to the lounge where he checked in with Jim. Jim once again reassured him that he had everything in hand and that he and Tim wouldn't go anywhere but straight back to their apartment. After checking with him a third time, Jim told him to get moving or else he'd be late.

He hurried home and after washing, a fresh shave and putting on his best suit, he drove to Ziva's apartment, stopping along the way to pick up a bouquet of flowers. Initially he had planned to pick up some roses but he changed his mind when he saw a bouquet of crocuses. He had noticed the flowers pressing up through the ground as a sure sign that spring was coming. A bouquet of the flowers could be a sign of a renewal in their relationship… friendship… whatever it was.

Ziva lived in a boarding house several blocks from Quicksilver. When she first took the job, she only had enough to rent a room. But with Quicksilver's success, she had upgraded to an apartment on the top floor. He quickly made his way up to her floor but before he knocked, he took a moment to straighten his suit.

Within moments of knocking, Ziva opened the door and any words he had in greeting were caught in his throat.

"Tony," she said. But when he didn't say anything, she looked worried. "Do you have a frog in your throat?"

"No," he said hastily. "But a cat has my tongue," he said with a charming smile. Unfortunately, Ziva only looked more confused. "It means, your beauty has me speechless," he said.

"Oh," she said clearly pleased.

He looked her over. Ziva was wearing a creamy, floor-length gown. The upper part of the dress was overlaid with black lace and it was sleeveless and had a deep vee-neckline. As she turned around, he realized that the vee-neck plunged at her back to nearly her waist.

"For you," he said as he held out the bouquet.

"They're lovely," Ziva said as she stepped into her apartment.

He followed her inside and looked around. It was small but comfortable for one person. But he had barely had a chance to look around before Ziva returned with a vase and a lace stole. She put the flowers in water and set them into a glass coffee table before wrapping the lace stole around her shoulders.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Nodding, he helped her into her coat and escorted her to his car.

They drove through town to Valentino's Restaurant where they were shown to a private table with a scenic view of town. The meal was one of the best he had in a long time and the conversation with Ziva was kept to light topics, which surprised him a little. He had expected her to pry more into his background.

"This has been a lovely evening, Tony," Ziva said as she finished the last of her cheesecake. "I am very glad I chose to forgive you in time for this night. It is nice to spend an evening away from Quicksilver with a handsome man."

He smiled broadly as he toyed with the remainder of his dessert. "See now you're just saying that to flatter me."

"I cannot say that I find you handsome?" she asked with a coy smile.

"No," he replied cautiously. "You are more than welcome to call me handsome, debonair, charming, classy…"

She laughed. "Perhaps you should just have stopped with handsome," she said. She winked at him.

He put a hand to his heart theatrically. "That hurts Ziva. If you didn't find me all those other things, then why did you agree to dinner with me? I've only been asking you out on a real date for two months."

"Real date?" she asked. "What about…"

"The dinners at Quicksilver, Christmas dinner at my place and the night dancing on New Year's Eve?"

"Yes," she said with smile.

"Ok so those were real dates," he admitted. "And they were swell. But this is a real nice date. You get to get all dressed up, I got my shoes shined and someone else cooks a nice dinner for us with white linen table cloths, and even candles." She smiled at him. "This is a real, fancy date."

"Your persistence is admirable," she said with a smile.

He smiled roguishly. "Well, DiNozzos don't know the meaning of the word 'quit.'" She looked at him, confused. "It's a phrase. I know what 'quit' means. But when there is something or someone worth pursuing, I don't give up." He examined her.

"Perhaps I do not mind being seen out and about with a handsome man. Perhaps it has nothing to do with you personally," she said with a sly smile.

He smiled and shook his head. She was being feisty tonight. "Yeah, except that you don't seem like the type of woman to base relationships off looks alone. You're too smart." He smiled at her. "I've been wondering. You are a beautiful woman, Ziva. You could have any man you want, so why me? I mean aside from my devilish good looks."

"Isn't the answer to your question obvious?" she asked evading him.

"No," he said, refusing to be distracted by her flattery. "It's been almost a year since we first met. And I've seen you flirt with more than a few men but that's it. Why does it feel like you're waiting for me?"

She looked thoughtful. "I find you to be an interesting man," she said finally. He motioned for her to continue. "I have known you for almost a year and yet I find that I know little about you. You are guarded. I doubt that you let anyone see your true self. I am intrigued enough to want to learn more. To do so, I must spend time with you. Perhaps it was a vain hope that I might finally learn more about you."

"Oh, so I'm intriguing," he said as he leaned forward. Every time the conversation had turned towards himself, he had deflected the discussion so that he could protect his undercover identity. But he could see how that would make him intriguing.

"I like a challenge," she said with a smile. "Although, I will admit that I have been frustrated at times."

"I've noticed," he said. "What would you like to know?" he asked.

"Well," she said. "You are obviously an educated man, more so than you try to let on. McGee said that you attended Ohio State University. I do not understand why you hide your education. It is something of which you should be proud. Not everyone attends University."

"I know." He looked at her critically. "I've never been one for working at a desk even though I am 'educated,' as you call it. I like the hands-on work. It might be a little different form of hands on work than I would prefer but with the way things are in this country, beggars can't be choosers. I've got a steady job, a good home and good friends. What more does a guy need other than a good girl, which I'm currently working on right now. But that's not all you're curious about."

She smiled at him pleased. "I find your friends to be intriguing as well. That Doctor is an odd man but friendly enough. His assistant is sweet but naïve. Timothy does not strike me as the type to take up the criminal life. He is too much of a goody tutu."

"Two shoes," he corrected. "Goody two-shoes." he frowned. "Well some situations call for one to do what is necessary to get by. Tim found himself in that situation. Doesn't mean he likes this life."

Ziva nodded. "I suspected as much but he does like Abby. They made an odd but very happy couple. They seem to be soul mates." He snorted. "What is so strange about that?"

"Nothing. But if you ask them, they aren't dating," he replied.

"It would seem to me that they are," Ziva said in confusion. "But then again, I am still not accustomed to the courting culture of this country."

"Nah, you aren't confused. I think they're just afraid of calling a spade a spade." Ziva looked at him in confusion. "Never mind," he said. "I also find it ironic that Tim found her there…" Tony paused. "I didn't expect Tim to fall in love with the owner of a club either. As you said, he's a goody two-shoes. I suppose Tim is an enigma to me even after all this time."

She smiled. "Gibbs is also an enigma. I am surprised that you are friends with him and the loyalty you show each other is impressive."

Tony shook his head. "He's saved my life a few times. If you had known that, then you wouldn't be so surprised. Maybe we are a strange group but strange times make for strange bedfellows."

Ziva looked scandalized. She breathed, "You three are…"

"What?" he asked. "No! No. Definitely not. It's an idiom. You know one of those things that you have trouble with?"

"I have not heard this one then," she said relaxing slightly.

"It means that if not for our employment situation, Gibbs, Tim and I wouldn't be friends because we are so different from one another. But Tim was hired by Napolitano as his accountant and I happened to be assigned as his body man and we got to know Gibbs through the club."

"I see. I am glad it is not what I first thought," she said.

"Me too," he replied with a laugh.

"So, you are connected through Mr. Napolitano," she said.

"Yes," he replied. "Strange to think that I'd find my best friend and have a mobster to thank for it."

She looked at him appraisingly. "I find it difficult to believe that Mr. Napolitano is responsible for your friendship with Gibbs and McGee."

"Huh?" he asked.

"I am not the only one with a mysterious past," she said. He shook his head. "Blue tells me you recently immigrated from Italy but most times you have no accent. Unless," she said pointedly. "You are around Mr. Napolitano or his men. And that does not fit with what McGee told me about your attendance at that Ohio University."

"Yeah, you got me," he said thinking fast. "I told Mr. Napolitano I was fresh off the boat because I thought it would help me get a job," he said. "You know, one Italiano helping another? If he knew my mother's side of the family was from England and I grew up in New York, I doubt he'd have been so helpful."

"So, you lied to obtain a job?" she asked skeptically.

"That's right," he said. "And I went to The Ohio State University. It's actually part of the name."

"What is?" she asked.

"The," he replied. She still looked confused. "Never mind. It isn't important. You're not going to rat me out, are you? I kinda like my job and I'm pretty sure Tim would hate to have to break in a new shadow after so long. Plus, I really don't want to move out of my apartment."

"I will keep this information to myself, if you tell me something," she said. Suddenly Ziva got a look in her eye that worried him. It was like the cat that ate the canary. She lowered her voice so that her words would only be heard at their table. "I would like to know why three government agents are working for Mr. Napolitano."

He blinked in confusion. How on earth could she know that? But then his mind raced again as he tried to figure out how to talk his way out of this.

"Three government agents?" he asked playing dumb.

"Gibbs, McGee and yourself," she said. He shook his head, feigning innocence. "Do not play me for a fool, Tony. We are both too smart for that."

"Just what government agency do you think we're a part of?" he asked trying to buy some time. "And why would we work for a mobster if we already have a job?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Tony," she said. "I was a spy. Do not try to pull the wool over my eyes." He frowned. Go figure she'd get that idiom correct. "As were the three of you. You worked to steal foreign naval technology. I believe you spent most of your time in Italy although you did spend time in France and Spain. I have also been told Morocco but I do not think that is right."

"Whoever has been telling you these things is pulling your leg Ziva," he replied.

"Just as whoever told you that I was a spy was pulling your leg?" she asked sweetly. He frowned. She had confirmed that she had been a spy so this was her way of calling his bluff. He looked out the window as he tried to figure out how she could know they had been overseas. Their program at ONI was so secret only a handful, including themselves, knew about it. "You need not worry how I came to have this information just that I have it."

"I will worry about how you came across this information because if you found it, then that means that someone else could find it," he countered. She smiled triumphantly as she realized he had essentially admitted that she was right. "But we'll get back to that. Right now, I'm more worried about what you would do with this information than how you came across it," he said.

He was already thinking about what he might have to do now that Ziva seemed to know what he was. He was armed but he doubted that he could get her out of the restaurant quietly. And looking at her, he could see that she had counted on that.

"Tony," she said. "I have no desire to pass this information to Mr. Napolitano." She looked him up and down. "It would be a terrible waste."

He frowned. "You make me feel as valuable as a side of beef." Ziva looked confused. "Are you telling me this because you want more out of our relationship? You've been trying to seduce me for almost a year."

"Which I find strange. You don't seem like the type to resist a woman's advances," Ziva said smiling sweetly. But he frowned, which wiped the smile from her expression. "No," she said firmly. "I am not telling you because I want you to sleep with me. Although, as I've made clear, I am not against the idea nor do I think, are you."

"Then why are you telling me?" he asked, relieved that she wasn't going to blackmail him into sleeping with her. "And for that matter, why did you dig up this information?"

"You were caged," Ziva said.

"Being cagey," he corrected without thinking.

"Yes, that," she said. "Any time I asked you about yourself, you avoided telling me anything! Even," she said emphatically. "After I told you about my history, as unpleasant as it is." Ziva motioned to him. "You investigated me. I investigated you. Turnaround is only fair."

"Turnaround is fair play," he said as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. On one hand, he didn't blame Ziva at all. He had been evasive with her. Evidently that had made her curious enough to put her skills as a spy to use and evidently, she had been successful.

"Imagine my surprise to find out that you are not who you claim to be," Ziva said. "Although I will admit, it was quite the challenge to find the truth. It has taken me almost a whole year."

"Wait," he said his eyes snapped open and he looked at her again. "You've been investigating us since the first time we met?"

"Yes," Ziva said. "A girl must be cautious when determining who she would spend time with, especially when that man works for a man like James Napolitano. You will be glad to know that for the first six months I only found what you wanted anyone to find."

"Great," he said sourly. This was not how he had imagined this night going.

"Tony," she said as she took his hand in hers. "You do not have any reason to worry," she said. "I care for you Tony and I would prefer that you remain undamaged. If I would tell Mr. Napolitano what I know, then that would not be the case."

He snorted. If Napolitano found out what they were, Terry Spooner's fate would be a step upward. "You have no idea," he replied dryly.

"Actually, I do," she said softly. He blinked and not for the first time, he wondered what Ziva had done in her lifetime. "I have been involved with the downfalls of many men and I have no desire to be the architect of your deaths. I only wish to have a place to sing and since you have not closed Quicksilver yet then I doubt that you have a need to do so." He shook his head. "And there is something else."

"What?" he asked apprehensively.

"I care for you Tony. Perhaps it is a selfish reason but it is also why I will not go to Mr. Napolitano," she said softly.

He smiled wanly. He wanted to believe her. But she could be telling the truth and still do something terrible with that information. She could turn them over to La Grenouille, for example. But he still couldn't shake the bad feeling that if she knew, someone else could know too.

"How long have you known?" he asked.

"I was able to confirm it shortly after the New Year," she replied. "Are you trying to take out Mr. Napolitano?"

"Down. Take down is to arrest him. Take out would be to kill him," he said. She nodded, accepting his clarification. "And not here. We can talk about this at my place as much as you'd like."

"Very well then," she said. "I will hold you to it." He nodded. "Does that mean our conversation is over?"

"For now," he replied. "I think it's time we go back to my apartment."

She smiled slyly but before she could reply their waiter approached their table.

"Excuse me Mr. DiNozzo, I have a message for you," he said. "From a Timothy McGee." Startled he motioned for the waiter to give the message. The waiter nodded. "He said that Mr. Gemcity's presence was requested at Jimmy's apartment and that you should contact him as soon as possible regarding a very important opportunity in the pizza business."

"Pizza?" he asked alarmed.

"That is what he said," the waiter said. "I can assure you, our maggiordomo copied his message word for word."

Alarmed, he looked at Ziva. "I have to go. Tim is in trouble."

Startled, she asked, "Because of a pizza business?"

"It's not a pizza business," he said. He pulled out his wallet and thrust money at the waiter. He knew it was too much but he didn't have time to wait for the bill. "This is for our dinner and a taxi for Miss David." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll call you as soon as I can. We need to finish our conversation."

"Yes," she said confused. "We do."

But he didn't look back at her. His thoughts were on his partner and the knowledge that Ziva had discovered them. Why had Naps asked to see Tim this late on a Wednesday? Had he learned that they were G-men? Had Naps turned Tim over to Boone? Was his partner being tortured even as he ate a pricey meal with a spy turned nightclub singer?

Tony hurried to the front desk. "I need your phone," he said. "It's an emergency."

The maggiordomo looked at Tony. "I'm sorry, sir, we don't have a public phone," he said in heavily accented Italian.

"You don't understand," he said as he pulled back his coat to reveal his pistol. "It is an emergency."

Alarmed, the man nodded and pointed towards a small room just off the entrance. "It's there."

He brushed past the man and into the tiny room. He picked up the phone and without waiting for the operator he said, "Connect me to Washington 52105."

"Right away," she said.

A moment later the phone was picked up. "Randolf's Garment Factory," a voice said.

"Blue," he said recognizing the man's voice. "Is Gibbs in the club tonight? It's Tony."

"Tony? Yeah. I saw him. He's with his lady though. They aren't sitting at Abby's table. I think he's here on a date."

"Well at least I won't be the only one who has to break his date tonight. Tell him that McGee went to Jimmy's regarding a pizza shop. I'm on my way there now."

"Pizza shop?"

"Just tell him Blue. He'll know what I mean," he said as he hung up without waiting to hear what Blue had to say. He hurried outside and collected his car.

Unfortunately, he and Ziva were at a restaurant on the other side of town and for whatever reason, traffic was insufferable. He silently fumed as he crawled at a snail's pace through the city streets to Jimmy's place. When he neared the building, he hastily pulled over to the curb when he saw the bright orange firelight lighting up the night sky.

Startled, he got out of the car and ran down the street sliding to a stop when he realized that there were fire trucks parked outside of Jimmy's apartment building. They were frantically trying to spray water on the fire that had burst out of the windows of an apartment on the top floor. Blinking, he realized that was Jimmy's apartment.

Without thinking, he tried rushing into the building but a fireman caught him by the arm.

"Where do you think you're going, son?" he asked.

"My friend is in there. In that apartment," Tony replied.

"Well God help him if he's still in there," the fireman replied. "The residents of the building are over there. You might want to check to see if your friend is there before you get yourself killed trying to find him."

He glanced at the building again then nodded. Without another word, he hurried over to the huddled group of people, many clad only in their nightclothes. He searched through the faces looking for McGee as the firemen handed out blankets to combat the cold March air. He walked through the crowd three times before he was convinced that Tim wasn't among them. Nor did he see Jimmy Napolitano or James Kidwell.

It was possible that after escaping the apartment, Napolitano and McGee had gone elsewhere, especially if the fire was due to an attempt on their lives. But when he asked several residents about Napolitano, no one could say that they saw him leave the building.

Suddenly he caught sight of the building's doorman. Like their building, he was burly and fit and looked more like a bouncer than a doorman. He wasn't a betting man, but he had good money that the doorman worked for Mr. Napolitano.

"Hey," he said catching the man's attention. "I need to ask you a question."

"I figured you'd be getting to me," the doorman said. "I heard you were looking for Mr. Napolitano."

He nodded and drew the man aside. "I work for him and I think you do too," he said.

The doorman nodded. "Lamar Finn," the doorman said. "I remember you. You were here last year about this time."

"Anthony DiNozzo," he said. "I'm impressed that you remember me."

"I remember everyone I meet," Lamar replied. "One of the reasons Mr. Napolitano hired me. I know if the same person is coming around time and again."

He nodded. "I'm sure the heat you're packing doesn't hurt either," he said. Lamar shrugged slightly. "Look, I need to know if you saw someone tonight. You would have only met him once but it was the same night I met you. He would have come into the building with Sal Balducci and Ian Hitch. Tall guy, little shorter than me. Brown trench coat, brown hair and round glasses?"

"Yeah," Lamar said. "I remember him. He didn't come in through the front door tonight."

"Through the front door?" he asked picking up on the man's distinction.

"Yeah," Lamar said. "Jimmy has a key to the stairwell. He uses it when he wants to have meetings at his place without anyone seeing his guests."

"So, you don't know if Jimmy had guests tonight," he said.

Lamar shook his head. "I only saw residents tonight. But Mr. and Mrs. Brooks tell me that they heard shots tonight." He looked at Lamar meaningfully. "They have the apartment directly below Mr. Napolitano's. They called the police but before they could arrive, a passerby stopped and pointed out the fire. I was focused on evacuating the residents after that."

"You're sure that Jimmy was in?" he asked.

"He's been in since early this afternoon," Lamar confirmed. "He seemed agitated and stressed. Well more than usual and that's saying something. With all the raids…" He held up a hand to indicate that he understood. "He didn't come out the front but that doesn't mean he didn't leave through the stairwell. I haven't seen Mr. Napolitano since I let him into the building this afternoon."

"Thanks," he said as he noticed Gibbs standing at the fringe of the onlooking crowd.

"Gibbs," he said as he joined his boss.

"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked.

He shook his head as he returned his gaze to the apartment building. "I don't know. I had a date with Ziva tonight. I left Jim Kidwell in charge of his security." Gibbs stared at him. "It was my night off," he added feebly.

Gibbs turned his gaze to the building. He could see that Gibbs knew that it was Napolitano's apartment too. "Is…"

"He's not with the residents from the apartment," he replied anticipating the question. "Napolitano isn't there either and the doorman says Jimmy's downstairs neighbors heard gunshots before the fire broke out."

"We'll just have to wait for the firemen to do their work then," Gibbs said.

For hours, they stood in the cold watching as the firemen battled the flames. Every once in a while, one of them would stop by and shake their heads. By now they knew that the two men were anxiously awaiting word about a missing friend.

While they watched as the firemen brought the fire under control, he told Gibbs about his conversation with Ziva. Just as he had been, Gibbs was alarmed that she had learned their secret. And he was only moderately relieved that she didn't seem to have any intention to turn them into Napolitano. Although, Gibbs did point out that given the fire, that it might not be an issue any longer.

After he caught Gibbs up on recent events, Gibbs left for a time and returned to their apartment but a shake of the head told him that Tim wasn't there. "He's not at Napolitano's office either," Gibbs added as he returned to watching the fire. "It's possible that they went to ground, DiNozzo. If so we'll just have to wait for McGee to contact us." He nodded unhappily. "He'll do so as soon as he can."

"If he can," he muttered. Gibbs looked at him questioningly but he shook his head. "I'm going to call Quicksilver. Maybe he went there," he said. Luckily, he found a phone booth nearby and called Quicksilver again. But Blue confirmed that Tim hadn't gone to the club. Halfway through the conversation, Abby hijacked the phone and demanded to know what was going on.

He tried his best to calmly explain to her that Tim was missing but as soon as she heard that Napolitano's apartment was on fire, she grew hysterical and Blue had to take the phone from her. Blue hastily apologized and ended the call so he could take care of Abby. He had felt her heart breaking through the phone and he prayed that McGee would turn up, even as he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he wouldn't.

So, he returned to watching the fire. By dawn the flames were out and the building had cooled enough for the firefighters to search for victims. It wasn't long after they had started searching, however, that they called for the coroner. Tony exchanged a dark look with Gibbs.

They waited until Ducky appeared with his young assistant. He and Gibbs hurried to Ducky's side but was accosted by the firemen.

"It's all right, my boy. I know this man," Ducky said as he recognized Gibbs. A moment later Ducky noticed him standing in the background. "Although I don't understand why they are here, per se."

"Our Boss lives in that apartment," Gibbs said. Ducky's eyes widened. "And Tim was visiting last night. We can't find him."

"You think he was inside?" Ducky asked.

"I know he was inside," he said. "I just don't know if he got out."

"I'll let you know what I find," Ducky said as he motioned for Jimmy to follow him.

They spent a tense hour waiting until Ducky emerged, covered in soot. He spoke with the firemen and then they collected several stretchers.

"Ducky?" he asked as he approached them.

He sighed and coughed lightly. "Three bodies, all badly burned. The fire appears to have started in Napolitano's apartment in the office," he said as he took off his glasses. Gibbs took them and cleaned them with his handkerchief. "Thank you. As I was saying, three bodies. One is certainly James Napolitano. It is his general build and body type and I found a pocket watch with his name engraved inside."

"What about the other two?" Gibbs demanded.

"Patience Jethro," he said. "I do not have a positive identification for the other two bodies. We may never be able to positively identify them. The fire did its work to conceal their names."

"There's got to be something," he said.

"I was not through," Ducky said. "But I appreciate your concern for your friend. Whoever these men were, they were fighting one another. All three bodies had bullet wounds, two of which were fatal. Napolitano was shot several times in the chest. The second victim was only shot once but it appears to have struck an artery."

"And the third?" Gibbs asked.

"A single shot to the left shoulder. The bullet is lodged against the scapula and while it was certainly painful, it was not fatal," Ducky continued.

"So, the fire got him?" he asked.

"No," Ducky said to his surprise. "I can't say for sure without an autopsy but I would say that he drowned. Although I doubt his passing would have been quick. The smoke may have suffocated him."

"Drowned?" Gibbs asked.

"How do you drown in a fire?" Tony asked confused.

"He had a punctured lung," Ducky said. "And his lung was filled with blood."

"What caused that wound?" Gibbs asked.

"The four-inch blade that was lodged in his chest. Which is odd," Palmer said as he joined them.

"Who brings a knife to a gun fight?" he asked for Palmer. Jimmy nodded. "Rule number nine," he said as he glanced at Gibbs. Gibbs' frowned.

"Rule number nine?" Jimmy asked confused.

"Always carry a knife," Gibbs said.

"Tim carried such a large knife?" Ducky asked.

"Always," Gibbs replied.

"Oh dear," Ducky said as he glanced upwards.

"Ducky, were their guns found?" he asked.

"Yes," he said. "Why?"

"If one of them was McGee's piece, I'll know it. And I'll know if it was his knife too," he replied. "Can you get me close enough to see them?"

"Of course," he said. "But only one of you," Ducky said as Gibbs tried to follow. Gibbs looked at him then nodded. Ducky led the way through the crowds over to a police van. He spoke to an officer who nodded. He pulled a box out of the back seat and handed it to Ducky.

He took a deep breath then looked inside the box. He didn't recognize the first two pieces that he pulled from the box but the third…

He blinked in shock.

"I take it that you recognize that weapon," Ducky said.

"That's McGee's pistol," he said.

"It looks like any other weapon. How can you tell it is his?" Ducky asked.

He shook his head. "McGee is left handed. This weapon was modified for him. He had to special order it. We had this whole discussion about special ordering. This gun was the only time he had ever special ordered anything." He placed the weapon into the box and pulled out the knife. "And that's his knife. He bought it in France but the knife is Toledo steel."

"Then it is excellent quality," Ducky said. "Toledo is world renown for the high-quality steel blades produced there."

"Tim liked it because it was small and easy to conceal," he said as he replaced the knife. "You know McGee, Ducky." Ducky nodded. "Could either of the unidentified bodies be him?"

"It is possible," Ducky said heavily. "They were both the same height but I can't tell you much about the build. There wasn't much left of them because of the fire. The gun was found near the body nearest to the door with the single gunshot wound to the chest."

"Something happened," he mused. "Tim stabbed Kidwell with his knife and shot Napolitano. But Kidwell wasn't down for the count and he shot Tim as he tried to flee."

"It certainly seems plausible," Ducky said. "I may never be able to determine who died first but with some time I might be able to confirm their identities. I won't say for certain until I do an autopsy, however."

He sighed heavily. "Thanks Ducky."

"I'm sorry Anthony," Ducky said. "I know that you two were very close."

"Best friends," he said. "Thanks Ducky."

With a heavy heart, he returned to where Gibbs was standing with Jimmy Palmer. He knew without saying a word that Gibbs knew it was McGee's weapons. Gibbs closed his eyes and when he opened them, Gibbs looked at him.

"He's not dead until I say he is," Gibbs said. "We keep looking for Tim until we've exhausted every last place he could be. Tony, you find Ziva. Find out if she knows anything about this."

"You think she told Naps?" he asked.

"I don't know," Gibbs said. "But if she did…" Gibbs trailed off but he looked at the burned building. He followed Gibbs' gaze and nodded. If Ziva had told Naps, Napolitano could have confronted Tim.

Suddenly Gibbs turned on his heel and left.

"Gibbs," he called as he hurried to catch up to the man before he got into his truck. "Where are you going?"

"To find Boone," Gibbs said darkly. "If anyone else was in the room when Naps confronted Tim, it would have been him," Gibbs said as he pulled the door shut.

He backed away hastily and watched as Gibbs pulled into the street. He watched for a moment before he looked at Napolitano's soot-stained apartment building one last time. He shook his head and turned away.