AN: For those not in the DC area, the storm rolling in is a real storm. It dumped between 28 and 39 inches on the metro area starting the afternoon of Friday, Feb. 5, 2010, and shut lots of things down. Another storm on Wednesday, Feb. 10, exacerbated the situation. So while yes, this storm they're talking about does seem unrealistic for DC, it actually happened. The federal government shut down that day and many schools didn't even open. The only liberty I took was to move the time of the storm up by 12 hours to early Friday morning because Tony wouldn't have a Thursday afternoon appointment with Brad. Since the MCRT does have weekend duty in this story because they had two weeks on cold cases while the guys were gone, I decided that fell into the essential personnel category, as law enforcement, military and emergency services typically are in emergency situations.

Chapter 9

When Tony pulled up outside Brad's house, the rest of the team was already there. He met them at the back of the truck.

"McGee, you and David track Brad's route until his cell phone went dead," Gibbs said.

"Abby sent the path to my phone," Tim said, holding it up. "We'll find what we can." He slung the camera around his neck, and Ziva stuffed evidence bags in her pack as they set off down the narrow sidewalk lined by snow.

"We're checking out the house, Boss?" Tony said.

"You're the most likely to notice if anything's missing," Gibbs said. "We need to do this quick, but right." He looked at his watch. "Less than three hours left to find evidence of foul play, or Vance is going to pull us."

Tony nodded and headed up the walk, pulling on latex gloves as he went. Once inside the door, he pulled the camera from his bag and started shooting. As he moved through the small house, he observed out loud.

"Looks pretty normal. Brad's generally neat, said it was all those years in barracks. He apologized last time I was over for the mess, but it wasn't any worse than this. Just a little cluttered." He crouched down to zoom in on the table inside the door, documenting what he saw before touching any of it. "Now this is what I'd expect. Personal cell is on the table with most of his keys. House key's missing, but he had that on a separate ring that he could clip to his running gear. Wallet's right here, but I'll bet his ID is missing." He used one hand to hold the camera and the other to flip open the wallet. "See, driver's license is here, but military ID isn't. He probably took it running in case something happened to him so EMTs would know to take him to Bethesda."

"Good work, DiNozzo." Gibbs flipped open his cell, and Tony could hear him calling Bethesda to see if DC paramedics had brought Brad in that morning. Tony blocked out the conversation and focused on what he could find.

In the kitchen, a bowl, knife, and spoon lay in the sink, rinsed but not washed. Tony flipped up the garbage can lid to find a banana peel on top. "No secret what he had for breakfast," he muttered as he documented everything. "Cereal with banana also says run." He worked his way around the room, not seeing anything out of place. It was the same upstairs, everything in the two small rooms where it should be. Brad's running sneakers were missing from the lineup near the closet, and Tony didn't see the paint-stained Michigan sweatshirt, reflective vest, or Navy watch cap anywhere.

"Anything, DiNozzo?" Gibbs stood in the doorway, sketch pad in hand.

"I can add a description of what he was wearing to the BOLO," Tony replied, pointing out the missing items. "Vest would have made him pretty visible to drivers."

Gibbs nodded. "Between that and the snow piled between the sidewalk and street, not likely there was an accident, especially since Bethesda hasn't gotten any calls from other hospitals about a Navy victim coming in on an ambulance."

Tony checked his watch. It had taken almost an hour to go through the house, small as it was. "Tim and Ziva better have something," he said. "I'm not seeing anything here that says foul play."

Gibbs nodded. "Makes sense. He wasn't snatched from here." Gibbs called Ziva, but all Tony could pick up from his end of the conversation was a couple of grunts.

"They find anything?" Tony asked after Gibbs hung up.

"Footprints in the snow, enough to show a scuffle," Gibbs said. "McGee poked around in the drift and found a house key on a chain with a clip with a giant M on it, said it looked like Brad's."

Tony nodded. "The Michigan logo," he said. "I've got an OSU one like it for our house key when one of us goes running. We just keep it by the door so we both can use it. Big Ten had them made up for the big game the year after I got the plague. Team that sold the most got the title of most enthusiastic fans. I hate when they do stuff like that just to make a buck, but Brad and I got them to rag on each other." He stopped at the head slap.

"So you're telling me we have signs of a scuffle and evidence that Brad was one party to it?" Gibbs said, forcing Tony to focus on the here and now.

Tony nodded, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, Boss. They need help?"

Gibbs shook his head. "On their way back now," he said. "Go help them load gear into the truck while I call Vance."

Tony nodded and walked away, hoping they could find answers quickly enough. Every hour that ticked by, the likelihood that they would find Brad alive and unharmed became less and less. After all the times during his bout with the plague that Brad had repeated he would beat the odds, Tony could only hope Brad was as determined about keeping himself alive.

They had just about gotten everything loaded when Gibbs walked up.

"Vance gave us jurisdiction," he said. "Still need to work fast — with the storm rolling in tonight, we don't have much time. And since we don't know where Brad's being held, we can't assume he's protected from the elements."

Tim pulled up the weather report on his phone. "Boss, they're saying three to four feet of snow, starting late tonight or early tomorrow morning."

"Better split up," Gibbs replied. "DiNozzo, you know Brad best. Any ideas?"

Tony thought for a minute. "He mentioned some doctors at the hospital he had dated before weren't big fans of his, but I don't know how serious it was. We were just joking around at the time."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow, so Tony thought back. "He didn't mention any names. It was a while back, and I had mentioned something about how Tim and Abby used to date. He made some comment about needing to take lessons from Tim about working well with exes. I don't know if anybody at Bethesda would know who they were or not; I don't know how much Brad kept work and play separated." Tony frowned. "I wish I knew more, but Brad didn't mention anything when we saw him Saturday, and I haven't really said more than hello to him since then because he's been buried in paperwork for that report. Sean's seen him a lot more than I have."

"Dad might know," Tim said. "What about some of the other sailors Brad's been treating? Dad was saying yesterday that being part of this study is almost like being in a club. They might know if anything was hinky with him."

"It might not be something personal," Ziva chimed in. "He was out running early, yes? Perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was taken because he saw something that somebody did not wish anyone to see."

Gibbs nodded. "Good leads to follow. DiNozzo, head to Bethesda to do interviews. David, check with local LEOs for any reports of break-ins or other incidents in the area along Brad's running route. McGee, start tracing his electronic trail: e-mail, cell, anything you can find." He checked his watch. "It's 1100 already. Get moving. DiNozzo, feed any names you get to McGee. David, when you're done running down your leads, help McGee."

Tony nodded and headed for his car, pushing his worries for Brad aside. Those wouldn't help him find his friend, and that had to be his priority. He looked up to see heavy clouds starting to roll across the sky.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Ziva raised one eyebrow when Tim handed her the keys for the second time.

"You are really worried, McGee," she said as she pulled out into traffic.

"Three feet of snow in an area that can't handle three inches?" McGee replied. "If we don't find Brad today, it's not going to be good."

"We. Will. Find. Him." Gibbs bit off the words, and Tim quickly said, "Yes, Boss."

Ziva just nodded and focused on driving back to the Navy Yard as quickly as possible. Once back there, Gibbs sent her and McGee upstairs to the bullpen while he carried the evidence to Abby's lab. Ziva filed that away as further proof that Gibbs was more worried than he let on. Normally, it would be her job to bring the evidence to Abby, since she was the team's probie.

McGee was silent in the elevator, yet so tense she could almost feel him vibrating. She opened her mouth, but closed it again because she did not know what to say. She knew McGee and Tony were close to Brad, Tony especially, and the doctor had been treating McGee's father as well. She could not imagine what it would be like to have somebody that important missing for no apparent reason. In Mossad, colleagues often disappeared, but they were soldiers in a war where casualties were inevitable. Brad was just a doctor, one who helped men and women who were made ill by their service to their country, soon to be her country as well. It did not make sense.

A dozen phone calls later, she repeated that sentiment out loud to McGee.

"What doesn't make sense?" McGee replied, focused on his computer.

"This," she said. "The local LEOs have no reports of any incidents along the running route. Local hospitals have no reports of anybody matching Brad's description being brought in. He does not have access to classified information, nor is he working in a field that involves bioweapons. I do not understand why somebody would abduct him." She stood in front of the plasma looking at the few pieces of information McGee had displayed there.

The agent looked up. "I'm not finding anything in his records," he said, motioning toward the plasma. "The only unusual thing is that he hasn't been hitting some of his usual haunts this week, but that makes sense with that report due tomorrow. He's been putting in long hours at Bethesda trying to finish it."

"What report is this?" Ziva asked. "You and Tony and Gibbs all seem to know about it, but I do not."

McGee shook his head. "It's for the NIH study he's been doing on his alternative treatment for the asbestos-related lung problems older sailors are prone to. My dad's part of the study group. He has to file a preliminary report tomorrow that will decide if it gets funded for another year."

"Could that be a motive?" Ziva asked. "I do not know much about medicine or about what he does that keeps Tony and your father healthy, but if it is that important, perhaps it is a motive."

Before McGee could answer, his phone rang.

"What have you got, Tony?" he said as he answered.