A/N: It's back! About damn time, right? Well, this is kinda short, but it sets up some of what's slated to come in the future. Don't even ask how many chapters I think I have left- I have no idea. I know how it's gonna end, and the rough details in between, but the number of chapters? NO FREAKING CLUE. But I tell myself that I absolutely will not start another NCIS fic without first finishing this one, so I guess I better get back on it, eh? :D

As Always, Enjoy! P.S. This is kinda for Chemmie. Soon enough for yah? ;P

"Dammit, Jethro, will you just slow down a minute?"

Tobias Fornell was not as young as he used to be, and the years since the Incident had not been as kind to him as they had to his old friend. Which he assumed was the reason why Gibbs was able to stride so swiftly from room to room in his house, throwing items and clothes into a deep rucksack, while he himself had so much pain in his knees that he could barely keep up.

"We don't have a minute, Tobias," Gibbs returned stonily. "The Bloods could come back at a moment's notice. We have to Evacuate, and we have to do it now."

"So you get your people shipped off to the next location—then what? You're still going to go after her. You really think you can get her back alone?"

"Did it before," came the terse reply. Fornell ignored the insult he was sure Gibbs didn't really mean.

"Dammit, Werth is no fool, Jethro. He's not going to let her go so easy again. If you go after her, he could kill her just so you can watch." The idea made both of them wince inwardly. But it was the god-honest truth—they both knew that all bets were off where Werth was concerned. He was cold-blooded murder, the worst of a bloodthirsty gang of rapists and pillagers. "And after that damn goose chase up north, he'll have to save face with the rest of his men. They're gonna be itching for blood, and you'll be just what they need to get their rocks off."

"I'm not going to leave her there. She's coming home, one way or another." The unspoken message—dead or alive, he wasn't going to let his wife stay in the hands of the Bloods any longer than absolutely necessary.

But Fornell wasn't about to let him get off so easy. "And that speech you gave your scientist, Abby… was that all rhetoric to keep her hopes up, or did you really intend to kill them all?" Blue eyes flashed at him. "Oh, you meant you were going to take as many of them down with you as you could manage. Yeah, that's smart…" he drawled snidely.

"Tobias…" the growl went largely unnoticed.

"See, I thought you meant it. Those were fighting words, Jethro—calling for an all-out war on the Black Blood Gang. For the first time, you'd give them something to think about." Tobias shrugged. "But you are a family man now, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised you were chickenshit—"

"Dammit, Fornell!"

"And I almost thought about helping you too."

Tobias watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Gibbs fell absolutely still. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked gruffly.

"I've been Roving for years, Jethro. You're not the only one who wants to see the Bloods gone for good. They're the only reason most Rovers don't settle down. They don't want to get comfortable, because the moment you put down roots you make yourself a target."

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you know where to look, there's a lot of people out there who'd be willing to fight."

Gibbs regarded him for a long, silent moment. "And you know where to look?"

Fornell smirked triumphantly, assured that he now had his friend's attention. "You bet your ass I do. There're a few semi-permanent camps out there, and if you give them the word, they'll make sure it spreads to every goddamn Stray and Rover in the state."

The grizzly former FBI agent watched as Gibbs processed what he'd been told. But to his surprise, the man's features darkened, falling into a mask of resignation. "It'll take too long. We don't have that kind of time." A beat passed. "She doesn't have that kind of time."

A wash of empathy spilled over Fornell, the little bit of humanity still left in his old bones feeling his friend's pain. But that was nearly instantaneously overwhelmed by impatience and the familiar sensation of tough love taking over.

"A lot of things have changed these past couple of years, Jethro," he delivered, his voice low. "But the Ziva David I know would kick your ass if she heard you say that."

Surprise sparked in tortured blue eyes, and again, Fornell was smugly triumphant. He'd always enjoyed getting a rise out of the Marine, and it seemed no amount of chaos and disorder could tear that away. He quickly took advantage of the opening it gave him.

"I heard the deal she made with Werth," he continued. "Hell, the whole damn town heard it. It was the same damn promise she made you last time, isn't it? That's what that big Russian of yours says. So she made the promise to play along, not escape, but the end result is the same—she promised to Survive."

He glared at his friend. "She just promised to Survive as long as humanly possible, and you have the gall to suggest that running into DC half-cocked would be better than taking the time to slow down and plan an offensive that could take out the Bloods once and for all, just because you think she can't make it a few extra weeks."

"Fornell—"

"Shut up, Gibbs," Tobias cut in sharply. "I get that you're scared for her. Hell, I'm scared for her. I saw that place just like you did. It's not going to be a walk in the park, but she survived two years in there… And we know that Werth wants to keep her around for a while. As sickening as that is, right now it's our greatest advantage. He'll let her heal before making her fight again. He might even pit her against some weak opponents to warm her back up. That'll give us enough time to recruit, plan, and then commit to taking these bastards out."

The room fell silent, and Fornell let Gibbs have his moment to think it over. But a minute later, Fornell could see the objections come right back, and that goddamn stubborn streak of his was allying with his protective instinct. A second later, and Fornell decided to bite the bullet and pull out the big guns.

"If we take the time to do this right, we could give Tali both her parents back—instead of making her an orphan."

Jackpot.

The fight left Gibbs body like air from a popped balloon. His troubled gaze trailed to where a discarded toy cluttered a corner, and Fornell knew he had him. This time, he remained absolutely silent as tired lids closed—maybe the haggard Voice was, for the first time in his life, offering a prayer to a god who had abandoned them all years ago.

Then, with an almost lazy swing of his arm, he tossed the rucksack aside.

Piercing blue eyes fixed Fornell with a fierce gaze. They were in business.

"Let's do this."