"Brian O'Shea?" Jarvis looked confused. "Who's that?"
Gibbs tried to recollect the name…but nothing came to mind. He looked over at Vance who shrugged, and then turned back quickly to the window as Tony began a coughing fit.
He had to close his eyes for a moment…the coughing jarred his ribs again, and for a moment after he opened his eyes he saw little black dots.
Jarvis leaned over and slid the water in front of him. He finally broke down and took it.
He knew most of the water he had been given over the last several weeks had contained some of the hallucinogenic chemicals they wanted in his system. Sometimes though, they had still injected him with God knows what. He had hallucinated so many awful things, but also about being home. He'd spoken to the illusion Gibbs, and the rest of the team many times. Even Kate…but when he saw her, it actually helped him separate out hallucination from reality.
He took another swig, and closed the bottle, looking at it in his hand for a moment.
He carefully set it down and then rubbed his eyes again, grimacing at the feel of the light layer of perspiration on his face.
He began again, looking at Jarvis. "I met Brian O'Shea on The Sea Hawk, when I was Agent Afloat." He smiled a little again, "He was a Senior Chief Petty Officer then… We didn't hit it off right away…but he sort of grew on me."
(Flashback)
It was warm and sunny in Cartagena. He had shore leave for two days. Tony was sipping on a drink at the bar and staring at the dark haired waitress who was going in between the tables on the small patio in front. A few seamen passed in the cluttered palm lined street just beyond the shaded tables.
Her name was Alessandra. She always paid attention when Tony came in for a drink…but Tony figured she probably did that with several of the Americanos. He didn't care. She was hot.
She smiled a bit and tossed her hair as she walked by. He was angling how he was going to get her to spend some time with him, when someone grabbed his shoulder and turned him around roughly.
"You see something you like, amigo?" It was a wiry man with dark curly hair, and cigarette stained teeth.
Tony looked at the hand on his shoulder and back at the man. "You'll wanna move that," he said in a low tone, "if you wanna keep it."
The man moved it and then raised his voice a bit. "You Americanos, " he spat, "you're all alike. You think everything is for sale here."
Tony was confused. He glanced to the waitress who was now looking at them, alarmed.
"Manuel, no lo haga." She walked over to them and put her hand on the man's sleeve. "El no me molestaba. Usted siempre hace esto! "
He said hotly to her, "No consiga en medio de esto, hermana pequeña. Soy cansado de estos bastardos que mirando boquiabierto usted."
Tony knew now - this was her big brother, probably getting angry at her flirtation with Americans passing through port.
"Listen, " he said in a calm tone, "There's really no need-"
"Shut up!" The man said angrily, while the waitress backed away, "I know what you want with her!"
"Oh. Well, I'm losing my touch, if I seem so obvious." Tony smiled at him, because he knew how this was going to end. He never pulled his gun in a bar for something like this, unless someone produced a weapon. One on one, most of the time he won anyway.
Just as he was getting ready to get into a brawl with the wiry man, two other, much larger, and threatening men walked over. One had long hair and tattoos, and the other had a bandana on his head. Obviously, friends of the irate man. Oh well, Tony thought darkly, here goes another shirt. I liked this shirt. He'd ruined two others in random fights since being assigned Agent Afloat.
"I didn't realize you were here with your two girlfriends. Unconventional, but hey, to each his own."
At that point they moved on him, too fast for him to properly get his hand to his holster under the light jacket he wore.
It was a frenzied eruption of limbs and barstools crashing as other customers got out of the way. They had grabbed Tony and threw him back into the bar but- he kicked out and sent the wiry man flying, and then landed a direct shot to one of the larger men's noses.
He heard the sickening crunch and howl as Tony took one across the mouth from the second man.
He was momentarily dazed, feeling blood drip down from the split in his lip. The man threw Tony to the ground. The bartender was yelling at them, but as Tony kicked out at the large man's legs, the instigator, wiry Manuel, was also standing over him, eyeing the gun holster now visible.
Tony saw that look. Manuel was going to try and take it from him…and kill him with it ? Oh, Hell no -
He was about to pull it himself when Manuel was knocked sideways and one of the larger men bringing his fist back to punch Tony again was grabbed and thrown clear to the other side of the bar.
He looked up, breathing heavily.
To his surprise it was Senior Chief Petty Officer Brian O'Shea.
He didn't look at Tony yet, he just glared at the troublemakers who decided to slink out of the bar, taking in the 6'7" stature and build of the sailor.
He grunted at them as they disappeared into the street. Then he smiled and looked down at Tony, giving him a hand up.
"DiNozzo, how does one Agent Afloat get into so much trouble," He smiled at Tony with his bright blue eyes and easy grin.
"I had it totally under control," Tony said as he swayed for a moment on his feet.
"Yeah, I can see that," the tall wall of man laughed. He scratched at his short blonde hair and then said gently, "I kind of owed you one anyway, for that…incident."
O'Shea had been accused of stealing money from one of the other officers. And he was angry. He hadn't been very cooperative with Tony, even though the Agent was trying to get to the truth, and they ended up in at least three screaming matches during the course of the investigation. O'Shea had worked very hard to become a SCPO, and had his eyes set on Marine Aviation, and a dark mark on his record could end the career before it began. If he was going to go for his IFS, and eventually get a TH-57 qualification to pilot the kind of machines he wanted, his record needed to be spotless.
But Tony had figured out in a short time, that it was one of the 2nd Class Petty Officers, with a drug problem, that had committed the theft. O'Shea's record stayed in its pristine state.
"Ah," Tony said, wiping at his mouth, scowling at the bloodstains on his shirt, "that was nothing.' Then he gave the man a huge grin. "But this, I'd say, demands I buy you a drink, O'Shea. I may need you to start moonlighting as my personal bodyguard."
They both laughed.
They were friends for the rest of Tony's time on the Sea Hawk.
(End Flashback)
Jarvis frowned. "What did he have to do with you getting off The Phantom?"
Tony looked at him, eyes slightly widening, "Everything."