AN: Thanks again to all the people who've reviewed who weren't logged in; including anyone I left out in previous chapters. I'm grateful to all!

Cowboy Tony Rides Again

Chapter 6

"Ah... dammit, no..." Gibbs looked to the right as he drove uphill, seeing a flash of energetic white moving in the corner of his eye. The river had risen suddenly, and was leaping and foaming over the stones of its bed – a pleasant sight on another day; looked like he'd just got across the ford in time. The sluice had been opened... on his agent... which meant that the baddies had gone to FDA – and were in control. He brought the truck to a shuddering halt... if it had had a memory it would have complained bitterly at receiving that treatment for the second time in one day. He squinted up towards the dam; there was no sign of the two men; water from the spillway channel was overflowing and streaming around the valve platform, which was empty. DiNozzo was in the water somewhere. So was Townley...

A dark shape came hurtling down the trail... When she saw him, Doris rocked back on her haunches and skidded to a halt, forelegs stiff in front of her. Gibbs eased gently out of the truck, and she came to him, trembling. "Hey... easy, ol' girl..."

NCISNCISNCIS

Adam Peter Townley, aged nine, stood silently, his body rigid, watching the monitor, where he'd seen his friend knocked into the surging water, and his father following moments later. His head and side still hurt where the gun had poked them, and he still trembled with fear and fury, after hearing the order given to drown the two men on the dam. They were both beyond the camera's range now, but still the boy watched, in a dreadful mixture of pride and terror. Dad had jumped in there deliberately... he'd gone after Tony.

Adam had had growing up forced on him in the course of a year; dealing with the sudden, shocking death of his Mom, and his grief and pain... talking himself out of the unfair way he'd been blaming his Dad – which alone had given him maturity beyond his years although he didn't realise it. Missing her, changing schools, settling into a new life... it had been a huge year...

Now he was the son of a fearless newspaper man, (sometimes he imagined his Dad in a trench-coat and fedora, carrying one of those cameras with lots of squares and angles and brass bits,) and he had to be fearless as well. He was worried about Mary too... she wouldn't put up with what was happening to her dams, but the bad guys had three guns, and they'd all been pointed at her just now.

He hated Eames with a passion. He was sick of the man's callous attitude, loud mouth and arrogance, and the way his two henchmen toadied to him, accepting his orders as if he were worthy of it. Adam Peter Townley, aged nine, could see he wasn't.

The water continued to tumble down the channel, and although the camera was quite high above it, and shielded, the picture was still distorted from time to time by a splash, until the liquid slid off the coated lens. Eames and co. unconsciously gave more attention to peering at it; Adam realised there was nothing more to see, and turned away. His heart lurched as he saw Tim watching him; the young agent's eyes widening in warning. His arm was reaching round the corner of the monitor to where he'd put his gun, but Adam didn't know how he was going to deal with three bad guys... He swallowed anxiously, and gave Tim a slight smile, then looked away in case anyone else noticed.

Smart kid, Tim thought, and made a mental note to remember to tell him so when he could.

Now... he was sure Ziva was around somewhere, because if she'd gone to the dam with Simon she'd have told him, and he'd probably have seen her on the monitor, joining the men in the water. Since she hadn't called at all, he was also sure she knew what was going on, and didn't want to alert Eames to her existence. He hoped he'd given her long enough to decide what to do, because he couldn't let this go on any longer.

Looking back, Adam Peter Townley, aged nine, couldn't say if he'd acted deliberately or if it just happened because he hoped something would. He thought maybe he had, out of anger, because if he'd stopped to think about it first he wouldn't have dared to move. At any rate, it all happened faster than he could describe...

Ty decided to change the angle of the camera, and lifted his hands to his keyboard, forgetting that he was being watched as well as his monitors.

"What are you doing?" Eames shouted, and took a step forward, only to go crashing down as he fell over Adam's suddenly outstretched crutch. He landed on his gun, and was fortunate it didn't discharge underneath him; whatever, he couldn't use it where it was. Tim snatched up his Sig and yelled "Don't move!" and Liddell probably wouldn't have done; but Eisley snarled something about two of them. Joel threw himself across Eames to prevent him getting up, as Scott Milner and Mary both tried to shield Adam, and Eisley raised his gun.

"I said don't move," Tim repeated. He really, really didn't want to shoot two men dead in front of a child, but he might just have to... he aimed very obviously between Eisley's eyes, and the barrel of his gun didn't waver, but he could still see the idiot's inner debate going on. His finger tightened on the trigger – then a bullet crashed into the wooden floor at the guy's feet, not so far from Harvey Eames' nose, making him squeal like a girl, and push his face into the varnished boards. A voice from the doorway said sweetly, "You would be well advised to heed what you are told." Two guns clattered to the floor.

"Thank you," Tim said heavily. "Ziva, where the hell have you been?"

The Israeli's mouth opened in outrage, then she saw Tim's grin, and her face softened. "You are welcome, McGee."

Mary scooped up the fallen weapons and aimed them both as if she meant it. Tim allowed himself the briefest of inner smiles... in the jeans and plain shirt that were her work gear, she looked like a pocket size Calamity Jane. Tony would have approved. Tony...He glanced very briefly towards Ty, and said urgently, "Close -"

"Done," Ty said calmly. "It takes time for them to close fully; but they're both responding. Sluice and pipeline."

Ziva asked just as calmly, "How is the dam?"

"No worse than it was," Ty said. "There wasn't time for the coffee spoon to start stirring."

"Good," Tim said, cuffing the two standing men. "I'd say nice work... but I can't until we know what's happened to Tony... and your Dad, Adam." He gripped the boy's shoulder briefly. "Don't worry, we'll find them... Now, Mr. Eames, let me see your hands, and they'd better be empty..."

"What do you mean, Tim? What has this man done?"

Something about the tone of the dark woman's voice had the would-be millionaire whimpering as he lay face down on the floor.

NCISNCISNCIS

The water was icy cold; its roaring in his ears was deafening, and as disorientating as its tumbling and buffeting. There was no hope of achieving right-way-up; every time what was left of his consciousness thought it had worked out where that was, another blow from whatever it was that kept hitting him would scramble the thought again. He had no idea if he'd reached the bottom of the dam yet, but one persistent thought reminded him that if it weren't for all the nasty, brutal water, he'd reach... have reached the bottom with a broken neck. You don't fall half-way down a sixty foot high precipice... did he really think that word... and survive without a cushion...

The side of his head hurt – he knew the sleeper... post... thing... had hit him; his arm hurt, maybe the same reason... things kept whacking him all over... he had to get out of this, save Simon... what sort of agent was he if he went back to that nice kid and told him he hadn't protected his Dad properly...

Jeanne's face hovered in front of him, not always the same way up that he was, coming and going, her hair floating around her in the water. The smile he'd loved was distorted into a mocking grin. 'What sort of agent, Tony? Liar... cheat... good at that – but you can't do your real job properly...'

He thought he shook his head in weak protest, but in the water he couldn't be sure. His mouth was full of the stuff, he'd inhaled some before he remembered he'd been under water when he'd stupidly tried to breathe, and whenever his head broke the surface and he tried to grab some air, he'd get another bellyfull as he went under again.

Her lovely face twisted. 'You really are useless... why don't you just stop trying...' Yes, he really was... that was a good idea... his arms and legs were so heavy he just didn't want to keep moving them. The tumbling seemed to have stopped, and a great current was carrying him... somewhere. He felt drowsy; he'd let go and sleep, it'd be easier all round to just fade away...

His consciousness was actually bottoming out before that tiny spark that had always gotten him through before finally flared... he recognised it for what it was – Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo wasn't a quitter, whatever else he was. Lying shit, heartbreaker, but not quitter... Whatever music there was to be faced in life he'd never, ever shrank from it... He struck what he thought was strongly for where he thought the surface was, but it hurt, oh god it hurt, and he realised it was too late. Even as he began to fight, consciousness left him.

NCISNCISNCIS

Simon hadn't had the benefit of a timber balk wrapping itself round his head, and he had gone body-surfing, inadvertently, with the whole of his patrol, in full kit, down a river in Bosnia... learned a lot that day. He was shorter than Tony, and more stockily built, and for once was grateful for his lower centre of gravity. He spread his arms and legs wide and rode down on his butt until he reached the bottom of the dam, then pulled his knees up sharply because he didn't know how shallow the water might be, for all its fury. There was no sign of Tony, and he really hadn't liked the glimpses he'd caught of him before he'd disappeared, limbs flopping, no sign of strength or even awareness.

Adam could have died of hypothermia in that pit before anyone thought to look for him up at Belinda's Mill. 'I don't matter'... The freaking blazes you don't, DiNozzo, what the hell's up with you... you're the guy who saved my son's life... listened to my woes in a diner like you'd been my friend all your life... And now you're wanting me to sacrifice you for him...

Where the hell are you?

The channel had ended and joined up with the main river, and he pushed his feet down, tentatively, but couldn't feel the bottom. This wasn't good... Tony could be only feet away, below the surface somewhere, and he had no way of knowing. Think... the ferocity of the water had diminished now it had more room to spread out, but its speed hadn't. Simon raked a hand through his hair to push it off his face and get rid of the water that was running into his eyes, and tried to focus on what was ahead. The river made a sharp curve, and where it carved into the bank at the widest point, something floated. Simon began to swim furiously.

Gibbs didn't know where to look, and decided to trust Doris. She'd been on her way down the dirt road, so he swung up into the saddle and waited to see what she'd do. She shot off from a standing start and almost unseated him, and again, he said "Easy, girl..." He didn't try to slow her though, as his eyes searched the channel. They reached the outflow into the river, and she followed the bank on downwards without hesitation. A moment later he saw what she'd seen further down-stream.

The tall agent was floating more or less on his back, his face sometimes going below the surface, the water pressing him against the bank but bumping him further along bit by bit. Simon reached him just before the current carried them both back out into mid-stream again. He growled wordlessly... the flow hadn't decreased – what was taking them so long? He was tiring too quickly from fighting the cold; the force of the water was exhausting, and fear wasn't helping. He pulled the unconscious – he hoped – man against him, holding his head out of the water, and tried to feel for a pulse in his neck as they rode the current.

A feeble hand batted his away. "'m alive... I think... Dammit... said go rescue your son... y'know...sluice opening... means the bad guys're... in charge.. why'd ya choose me over him?"

Moving surreally fast in the middle of a river, Simon swore in exasperation. "Trusting your friends to do that, DiNozzo! What the hell is it with you? Why would I leave you? Why would you want me to?"

"Long story..." Tony's face hit the water again, and again Simon hauled him up,

The flow was easing a little, Simon thought hopefully, and his hopes fell again as he realised that there was absolutely no levelling out of the undercut banks for him to climb out, bruised and weary as he was, let alone drag his barely responsive friend with him. He tried pushing his feet down again, but although he occasionally felt a scrape along the bottom, it was pretty random. Maybe he could just keep them riding the surge until the banks levelled out... if he didn't give out himself first...

Something was right there in the water in front of him... again he pushed wet strands out of his eyes and peered ahead... a silver haired Marine, sitting on a big brown horse, up to his knees in the river, let alone hers.

Doris stood like a rock. That current wasn't going to budge her an inch, not even when the two floating bodies brought up hard against her flank. She huffed anxiously; one of these two was her human, but he didn't really look, or smell like he usually did... there was that red smell that always meant trouble... it was faint, but she recognised it.

Gibbs spoke to her soothingly, even as he reached down and pulled DiNozzo up over his own saddle. "Take him," Simon said breathlessly. "I'll find somewhere to climb out."

The other former Marine rolled his eyes. "Not leaving ya. Just hang onto the latigo," he said practically. "Doris'll take care of it. Go, girl..."

The big brown Morgan turned carefully, and picked her way downstream. Gibbs left her to it, hanging onto Tony with one hand, and gripping the rapidly fading Simon Townley's elbow with his other. The younger man sighed with relief a few minutes later when he felt ground under his feet, and Doris led him out of the water over a low, stony beach. His knees gave way as he reached the grass verge beside the dirt track.

Gibbs slid off over Doris's haunches, and gently lowered his SFA down beside him. He ran a careful eye over the brown horse, who seemed fine. He rubbed her nose fondly. "DiNozzo'd want me to take care of her," he said inconsequentially. He took the two blankets down from her saddle, and draped one round the younger marine's shoulders. "Might be an idea to take a few wet layers off," he advised, and as Simon nodded wearily and began to struggle with slippery buttons, Gibbs set about getting Tony out of his jacket and shirt, ignoring sporadic, feeble, incoherent protests. He wrapped the blanket round him, and barked "Just shut up and stay there, Tony," pretty sure that the use of his first name would be enough to get his second in command's co-operation. "Doris, watch him!"

He handed Simon his cell phone. "River's going down... should think that means Adam's safe," he said. "Call who you like... including paramedics..." A cross between a mumble and a whine came from Tony's direction; Doris moved closer. "Ignore him. I'm going back up the trail for the truck – be five minutes." He set off up the hill at a run.

Doris put her nose down and nudged Tony. He groaned, and began to lift his right hand vaguely to pat her, but his arm really hurt so he had to use his left. "Sorry, gal, I guess the sugar's all gone..." She stayed close anyway, as he slumped down again. He couldn't work out which bit of him hurt worst, so he settled for lying still and not provoking anything. As if feeling emotionally freaked wasn't bad enough, he now had physically lousy to contend with too, and any time now he'd be having a hoard of sadistic EMTs sicced on him. Wonderful. He bit back a groan.

Simon tucked the blanket tighter around him, and pulled the one Gibbs had given him closely around his own shoulders, just as Gibbs phone rattled in his hand.

"Boss? Fornell's just turned up... did you find -"

"Agent McGee... it's Simon Townley... is Adam safe? Mary? All of you?" A few moments of explanation each way, and everyone knew as much as everyone else. Simon repeated aloud just about everything Tim said, and at first the young agent wondered why, but then realised it must be for Tony's benefit."I'll call the paramedics – tell Tony we'll be with you in maybe fifteen minutes," he said.

"That's good... tell Adam I'm proud of him..."

"I'll do that," Tim said, and rang off. Simon sat looking at the phone, sick with relief. A shaky voice at his side said "Fornell, huh? Poor Toby... missed all the fun... course, he'll get all the credit..." Tony laughed. The laugh was followed by a prolonged bout of coughing and retching, and Simon rolled his friend onto his side to make it easier for him to get rid of the river water from his stomach and bronchi. He even found himself patting the other man's back, like he did with Adam when he had a cough.

In the end, Tony fell back, wearily. He supposed he needed to see a doctor... he didn't want to even think about pretty young women in scrubs, hospitals, exploding cars... 'Who are you? Who?' He lay unmoving, but his aura of misery must have projected about ten feet out from his body. Suck it up, DiNozzo.

He became aware of Simon Townley's silent, thoughtful regard; he could feel it through closed eyelids. He raised them slowly, to find the Marine, hunched over, pale faced, and battered himself, looking down at him with a mildly anxious, very puzzled expression.

Tony frowned slightly, and rasped, "What?"

TBC