Stern was sitting in the van. It was parked almost around the block from Gibbs' house.
He had the window open half way, just to be sure he could hear if any sirens sounded from police cars.
He waited in the dark, sitting on his cell phone.
Tilson was out, moving through the shadows, and sitting outside the house, watching for an opportunity for them to grab DiNozzo.
"They've got a protection detail outside the house," he heard Tilson say sourly on the other end.
Stern scratched his greasy, black hair. Tilson barely gave them a chance to eat, much less shower, since the first attempt they botched.
They both knew if they screwed up again, Kort would kill them.
"So what now? We need to get a hold of this guy asap. Or our ass is grass. DiNozzo has to sleep. They all do. Any chance you think we can just wait til they turn in, and get in & out fast? I know we're down a man…so – the detail poses a problem…I think we'd both need to be in there to take down Gibbs and grab him."
Tilson replied quietly. "One of us would have to take them out. But, we have to make absolutely sure we can get our hands on him…Or, we wait. And watch for another shot tomorrow." He was trying to figure it out.
The clank of something hard against the half opened window caught his attention.
His eyes widened.
A gun was pointing in his face.
"You lookin' for me?" Tony asked in a low, menacing croon.
Gibbs was frantically pacing his living room, while the two agents who were supposed to be watching Tony waited outside. Understandably, fearful of Gibbs' wrath.
Ducky was sitting on the couch, and McGee stood off by the kitchen.
"What in Hell is he thinking !" Gibbs growled angrily.
"Jethro, I am sure he felt the need to do something…"
"Yeah, something stupid! Dammit. They saw nothing out front," he gestured towards the door. "We know he went out the back. And I'm gonna guess he canvassed for suspects himself."
"Boss," McGee said worriedly, "His cell is still off." McGee was on with Abby, trying desperately for any sign of the cignal.
"You would think he would leave the damned thing on. C'mon McGee, let's get back in the car and drive around. Maybe we'll get lucky and find him before he finds trouble." Gibbs already had people out looking for Tony, but he needed to do something while they tried to work out where he had gone.
"I'm sorry, Jethro," Ducky said sadly, feeling he was somehow responsible for not anticipating Tony's rash action. He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.
Before he went out the door, Gibbs turned and said, "Don't beat yourself up Duck. Not much stops a determined DiNozzo."
"Amen to that," Ducky said softly to the house, now empty except for him.
Tony had the gun in his hands, still pointing at the greasy man as he drove. He'd made him disarm before he got into the van and forced him to start the journey to his mysterious enemy.
"Seems a little strange, dude."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" Tony asked with brows raised.
"You want me to take you to the guy who wants to get his hands on you."
Tony reached with one hand into his pocket, and pulled out his cell, turning it on. It wasn't his plan to keep Gibbs away from helping him…he just knew Gibbs wouldn't have let him out in the first place. He had suspected that whomever tried to snatch him earlier that day, was waiting, lurking close by to try again.
He'd been right.
"Yeah…about that," he said, keeping the gun steadily on the man, as Gibbs' cell rang, "wanna tell me who it is that wants the pleasure of my company so badly?"
"DiNozzo! Where are you?" Gibbs was practically yelling, while Tony could hear McGee in the background talking.
"Boss," McGee said faintly, Abby has a fix on Tony's cell."
"Sorry, Boss, you know I have a hard time sitting in one place, with my A.D.D. and all…"
Gibbs continued to yell at him, while he said to the man driving, once more, "Who, who is it that wants me so bad?" Gibbs had become quiet, hearing Tony asking the question.
The man kept his eyes on the road, nervously gripping the steering wheel.
"Kort. His name is Kort."
Tony hear Gibbs swear on the other end of the line, "That slimy sonofabith!"
"What does he want with me?" Tony asked angrily, drifting the gun a little closer to the man, as they came to a traffic light by a U-Store storage facility.
"I-I dunno, he never told me. I wasn't the one who made the deal. It was Tilson."
"Where's he ?"
"When you made me drop the phone…he was somewhere near the house."
"And where is Kort ?"
"We're almost there. He's waiting for us to deliver you to him. If I help you, can I cut a deal ? I mean, you guys are gonna take him down right? You'll need someone to testify…"The man's blue eyes looked at him imploringly, genuinely concerned about himself.
"We'll talk about that later. Now park it."
The van pulled into a spot in front of the entrance.
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said loudly over the receiver.
"Yes, Boss?" Tony asked innocently.
"You. Do. Not. Go. In there. Do you understand me? Wait for us. We're calling for more backup."
"Got it Boss. Waiting for you," he said firmly, having no intention of taking such a foolish risk. He was just feeling incredibly satisfied to have solved some of the mystery. He was looking forward to taking Kort in…and hoped maybe Kort would "slip" so he could punch him in the one eye…
As the man shut off the ignition, Tony was about to say something else when he heard a knock at the window behind his head. He winced, and turned to look, keeping his gun trained on the driver.
It was Tilson, he assumed, with an abundantly scarred face, darkly glinting eyes, pointing a gun at him now as well. Tony thought he must have gotten a cab once he heard Tony get the drop on Stern.
"Shit."
"Drop it," Tilson said.
Tony knew he was screwed.
He dropped the phone onto the floor of the van, hearing Gibbs, calling his name frantically.
The driver took Tony's gun, as he unlocked the door, and Tilson dragged him out of the van.
"We don't have much time, man," Stern said. "We should waste him now and split, so he can't I.D. us."
"We deliver him to Kort, as we were told. Then we can split. We do it now, and Kort gets outta this, we're as good as dead."
"No way, man, I'm outta here." Stern turned, and started to walk back around the van.
"Suit yourself," Tilson said, putting a bullet in his head.
Tony took that opportunity to struggle, but Tilson was able to pull the gun back and pistol-whip him in the jaw, almost making him black out.
He dragged Tony into the facility, dazed and bleeding from a cut on his jaw.
He forced him up a flight of stairs, gun jammed into his neck, all the way to the end of the hall, and wrapped twice on a door that had no padlock on it.
It slid open, revealing Kort, and a large room filled with frightening equipment.
"Here he is Kort," he roughly threw Tony down on the ground, as Kort took in the sight of them both.
"What's going on, Tilson," Kort asked suspiciously, as the man looked extremely harried.
"You may have company soon. I suggest you take him…and play somewhere else. But I'm going. I've made good on the deal. I expect to be paid." Tilson still had his gun out, now holding it on Kort.
Kort smiled. "Of course, you've completed the task. Albeit, with trying to get us caught."
Tony moaned, finally getting his bearings, and started to sit up.
It caught Tilson's attention for just a second, long enough for Kort to knock the gun away and deliver a focused strike to the man's throat.
Shocked and gasping in pain, he clutched at it, while Kort pulled a gun from his jacket in one smooth move and shot him in the head point blank.
As his body hit the ground next to Tony, Kort said, "It's so hard to find good help these days."