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Chapter 8

Washington, D.C.

The next morning

Gibbs scowled as he entered the bullpen. McGee's research had showed that Tony had not booked a flight home, and Vance had revealed that Tony was going to stay in LA. Which meant that Tony would be expecting to be fired, or at least kicked off the team. Truthfully, though, Gibbs would never fire Tony. He'd been worried about his agent being almost 3,000 miles away, when he couldn't watch out for him. Admittedly, he'd handled it the wrong way, getting pissed and ordering Tony back instead of goddamn telling him, but he'd been angry, especially since yesterday had been the anniversary of Shannon and Kelly's deaths. And ever since Tony had been on his team, he couldn't get through that day without worries of the man, who was like a son to him, dying as well. So to have him all the way across the country with no way to get to him in a reasonable amount of time was not exactly helpful for his mood. Tony had called him the night before, but he'd been drunk and not in the mood to talk to anybody. Although it would probably be a good idea to call him back now.

Gibbs pulled his phone out and dialed Tony, frowning when it went straight to voicemail without ringing. The gut feeling he'd had the night before suddenly came back in full force, no longer shoved back by copious amounts of bourbon. Shoving his phone back in his pocket angrily, he forced himself to calm down. It was just before six in LA, and Tony had been on a cross country flight and gone straight to work after the day before. It was quite reasonable that he'd still be asleep. He'd call him again in a few hours, at a more decent hour.

He tapped at his phone again to turn it off, noticing as he did so that he had a missed voicemail from Tony. He was about to listen to it when he was interrupted.

"Morning, Gibbs," Bishop said cheerfully as she walked in. "I brought you some more coffee." She placed the extra mug on his desk, then wandered over to her own desk. He grunted his appreciation, downing the last of his first mug and throwing it in the trash vehemently.

"McGee!" he snapped at the younger agent as he stepped out of the elevator at 9:10. "You're late!"

"Sorry," the junior agent apologized. "My alarm broke, so I overslept a bit. Won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't," Gibbs growled, headslapping McGee hard.

"Ow!" he protested. "You usually only headslap Tony!"

"Do you see Tony here?" he growled, slurping at the second mug of coffee. "Do any of you have anything on the case?"

Ellie stood, pulling up a picture of the dead lance corporal. "I looked into Norris's financial records. After his last deployment, he was seriously injured and got leave for a while, so there was the expected medical payments from that. About a month ago, when he had mostly recovered, he started flying down to Texas and a few other states bordering with Mexico. At the same time, he started receiving payments, corresponding with each trip. It seems like he was bring stuff to, maybe across the border illegally. Drugs, maybe?" she guessed.

"Anything else?" Gibbs asked, looking at McGee.

He stood as well, grabbing the remote for the plasma and bringing up a picture of another man who looked similar to Norris. "This is Jack Norris, brother of Michael Norris. He lives in Baltimore, and, judging by the phone records, the two were in constant contact."

"You two go pick him up and bring him back here. I want to talk to him," Gibbs snapped, gesturing them towards the elevator.

Once the two younger agents were gone, he grabbed his phone off his desk and opened it to the voicemail again. Double tapping it, he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hey, boss," Tony's voice sounded in a whisper across the line. Several gunshots sounded in the background, and Gibbs sat up straighter, listening intently. Much to his relief, Tony's voice came again.

"It seems that G and I got ourselves into a bit of trouble. We should've ordered pizza instead," he said as another round of gunshots made themselves known. "Fuck," the agent hissed, sounding like he was in pain. "Look into the… Lopez cartel. And… talk to the LA… team about it." Another dozen shots were fired, and a man yelled in pain before he was abruptly cut off.

"Don't… worry boss," Tony muttered. "One of the cartel… thugs not… us. Boss… I'm sorry I… didn't go back… but I couldn't… quit on the case. Tell the team… that they've always… been my family… 'specially you… boss… sorry…" he trailed off, and there was the sound of the phone sliding across the floor, then the recording stopped. Gibbs gripped the phone tightly for another second, then carefully placed it back on his desk, worry and anger coursing through his veins.

A hand landed gently on his shoulder, and Gibbs jumped, turning around quickly. Ducky was standing there, looking concerned.

"Are you quite all right, Jethro?" the doctor inquired. "You look rather pale."

"Tony's in trouble," the lead agent growled. "G too, most likely."

"Oh, dear," Ducky said as Gibbs dialed the number for Hetty's private line.

"Jethro, have you any idea what time it is here!" Hetty's irate voice sounded over the line.

"About 6:30," Gibbs replied dryly. "I'm surprised you're not already up."

"I was about to get up. Why are you calling, Jethro?" Hetty asked.

"Have you heard from Callen or DiNozzo since they left yesterday?" Gibbs drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk as he waited for her answer.

"No. Is there a problem?"

"I got a voicemail from Tony last night, he and probably G were taking fire. I think Tony was injured."

Hetty gasped. "I'll send a team over to Mr. Callen's place right away. Can you send the voicemail to Mr. Beale please. I assume you and at least one team member will be flying out right away?"

"Yes of course."

"I will rent two hotel rooms for you then. Travel safely," Hetty said, hanging up.

"Hey Gibbs," Bishop said, as she and McGee walked back in. "Norris's brother is in interrogation one when you want hi- what's wrong?"

"Bishop, go get Abby. McGee, I need you to send a voicemail to Eric Beale in LA," Gibbs snapped, handing his phone to McGee and pointing at the voicemail from Tony.

Bishop scurried off to the elevator again, heading down to Abby's lab. McGee sat down at his desk, tapping at Gibbs's phone.

"Boss, this is from Tony," McGee said, looking up from the phone.

"I'm aware. Did you send it yet?" Gibbs drained the second mug of coffee, crushing it and throwing it violently into the trash.

"Uh, two secs," McGee tapped at his keyboard, then looked back down at the phone. "Yeah, it's sending. What's going on? Is Tony in trouble?"

"What? Tony's in trouble? What happened?" Abby asked, running out of the elevator.

"Don't know for sure Abs, but the two of us are going to LA to help out."

"Oka-" Abby started, but Bishop interrupted, crossing her arms.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Gibbs said, glaring at her as he grabbed his phone off of McGee's desk.

"I'm going too," the newest team member said stubbornly. "If Tony's in trouble, I want to help."

"Fine," Gibbs snapped. "McGee, get the three of us plane tickets to LA ASAP."

"Boss, I want to go too."

"Fine, fine. Let's take the whole damn DC office while we're here. I'm sure Ducky and Jimmy and Vance want to come with us as well!"

"Um-" McGee looked up from his computer.

"Get tickets for the four of us McGee! And hurry up!"

"Okay," the computer geek typed rapidly at his computer for a few minutes. "I got us on a flight that leaves at eleven, it's the first one today. Direct to LAX."

"Go get packed and meet at the airport at ten fifteen," Gibbs said, glaring at the team. When nobody moved, he raised his voice. "GO!"

Everyone scattered, moving to their desks or the elevator. Gibbs reached for his badge and gun, slamming the drawer shut.

"Duck- "

"Go bring our boy home, Jethro," the ME said softly. "I have no doubt you will. I will go talk to Director Vance."

"Thanks, Duck," the lead agent said, heading over to the elevator.

A/N- (Benny) Sorry this was updated so late in the day. I've had an unexpected family thing come up, so this probably is not my best work. Have a nice weekend everyone!