A/N: I know nothing about organ donation policies and procedures. Please take that into consideration and that this is made up fiction and not intended to infringe on that worthwhile endeavor.
Beta: Mike91848 Thanks Mike
Disclaimer: Nothing's changed
CINDERELLA Revisited
Chapter Sixteen
We three were still in the bullpen after Ziva had left...in a huff. How could Gibbs not be picking up on her attitude? I was puzzled at Gibbs' lack of the infamous gut or maybe he just wasn't going to get himself involved in whatever he thought this was.
"I believe it is my turn to bodyguard DiNozzo, Gibbs." Ziva had said. "I am ready whenever you are, Tony." She stood waiting with go bag in hand. I couldn't help grimacing at the thought as I kept my head studiously turned towards the computer. I did not want to have another conversation with Ziva. She was prone to beating a dead horse to death again if she could by bringing up an issue that to me had already been settled.
Gibbs hadn't even looked up at her when he said. "DiNozzo's coming home with me tonight, Ziva. See ya tomorrow and get some rest." She had bitten her lip but that was the only indication of her feelings as she bid us goodnight.
Tim, who was a determined and stubborn frustrated computer genius wreck, had briefly looked puzzled as she walked away then back to the computer with a frown that had been perpetually on his face since he started. But finally he had broken the boyfriend's code and was in.
The boyfriend sent an email to his brother telling him he was afraid he had gotten into something over his head.
Danny boy this is important
I found out, man, this one dude's relative wouldn't give up a kidney for a kid. That DiNozzo woman, and man is she stuck up, has an office here and one night after work, she had this guy in here with her saying they couldn't find any dirt on this relative and she wanted the kid's name pushed to the top whatever it was gonna cost and he said he'd check with his superior.
Now see, the thing is, I wasn't supposed to be there but I forgot my wallet and Jeanette wanted to go out to eat so I came back to get it. The door was locked but I had sweet-talked Darline into giving me the code to the main entrance and an extra key made on the sly, you know just in case. So I was listening and I must have made some noise or something because suddenly her door opens and this big guy comes out, really mean looking and he told me if I knew what was good for me I should pretend like I never heard anything and I swore I hadn't heard anything. So he let me go and boy did I get out of there. But I saw him take out his cellphone as I ran, probably calling his boss.
Then a few days ago, I got on the jeweler's computer just to see if I could find some dirt on this relative named Tony DiNozzo and I did, fifty million. So I was gonna tell the dragon lady I had found something and hopefully it would get me enough money for my tuition and I could stop working. So I'm at the jeweler's now with Jeanette and Darline upstairs calls me on my cell and say's there are two guys wanting to see me. So I told her not to say where I was.
Bro, I don't think it's about the money, I think I wasn't supposed to see that guy with Mrs DiNozzo. She kept calling him Granview or Grandview, something like that, you know. So I'm gonna slip out the back entrance and run. Man, I don't feel good about this so if something happens to me tell them to look for this Grandview guy, whatever, okay, luv you bro, tell Ma I'll see her this weekend. And finish that term paper on time. Oh and there's nothing about this on my computer at my apartment so stay away from there in case I'm being followed...okay, see ya.
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Tony turned away from Tim and the information on the computer and returned to his desk. It was easy enough to see what had happened. Greedy man not wanting to give up his lucrative source of riches involving theft and body parts, kills a guy because that guy could identify him and through him, his employer or group of employers who were probably well-respected, upstanding citizens, possibly a politician or a doctor, lawyer or chief.
And Gibbs was angry. They were all angry. This poor pathetic jerk had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Granted, he certainly was no innocent but he didn't deserve to have his head blown away just because he saw some guys' ugly mug.
This whole thing, would it never end? I had the hysterical fleeting thought that maybe it was time to take a face powder, ditch the dodgers and flew the copter, compliments of my Ninja partner's fertile idiomatic mind. Bad enough she had almost caught me in one of my spacier moments the other day. God, I was so busy spinning my stapler and humming trying to keep myself in the here and now and not getting down on my hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water to start scrubbing away, that her knee banging on my desk was all that saved me from total embarrassment. This disease couldn't be happening to me again. I had had this...thing under control. Now, Tim meeting up with what society considered my father? Then there was the whole DiNozzo family involvement with their threats and hate. Was there an arrow on my back?
Earlier, I had played off McGee's story, told them it was no big deal. But I hadn't told them how my father's cruel rejection had deeply depressed me when I got back to the dorm. I was just fifteen, emotions all over the place. As a result, I couldn't get out of my bed. And when I did, I sleepwalked like an old man, feet barely lifting off the floor, head down. Months of beneficial therapy gone. The school didn't know what had happened to me, something bad on the subway maybe but I couldn't tell them, would never speak about it.
The only thing that got me to at least pretend to get better was that CC's family threatened to pull him out of the school because he was so harshly affected by what he thought was his fault. So, I had gotten up, gotten showered, dressed, ate some cereal and started to play ball again and spent hours on the piano.
One of my psychiatrist's, a really cool guy but too liberal for the school so he didn't last long, had told me once that when I was an adult, a grown up man, I could confront my father, man to man. Speak to him like he was a stranger, which essentially was what he was, and tell him what I thought of him, even punch him out if I had an urge to, and he wasn't kidding when he said that.
And I had only recently started to feel that I could do that. Spew the hatred and venom the man had no problem expelling in large quantities at me. Make an appointment, no scratch that. Barge into the house he and his bitch wife had been squatting in for years and drag him out to the hallway to the stairs and force him to look up at the chandelier while I twisted and wrenched his arm and tried to twist his neck off as well. And just to top the cake, pull a Carrie and bring a bucket of pig shit, blood and entrails and throw it on the old lady bitch 'til she was covered in filth. Like I had been.
Ah, shit, this was a subject that was making me crazy. I hadn't thought about it in years but here I was thinking about running away from the DiNozzo's once again unwanted involvement in my life. Good thing Gibbs had decided he'd had enough of work just as I was thinking of the next flight out because he closed down his station and yelled at McGee.
"Pack it up McGee. Go home get a couple a hours sleep. Stay alert. Let's go DiNozzo."
"On your six, Boss." I was more than happy to hear those words. Maybe his crazy driving would take my mind off all this crap and I could resume thinking like I had some sense instead of a severely traumatized defenseless kid.
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"Night, Boss, Tony." Tim locked down everything, stored the two backup chips he had made by putting one in his artificial potted plant he had yet to throw away and the other in his pocket. He heard DiNozzo harassing Gibbs as they entered the elevator. "You do realize, Boss, that you told McGee to get some sleep and stay alert in the same breath, right?" He didn't hear Gibbs' response as the elevator doors closed.
He waited until he was sure that they were gone before he grabbed his gear and headed to the stairs and down to Abby's lab where he pulled out her futon and blanket, and tried to get a few hours' sleep before he started in on trying to find this Grandview person but his mind just would not shut down.
There was Tony's dysfunctional family, and Tim wasn't all that sure that Tony hadn't been affected by the mention of his father. There was just something too casual about his behavior. Abby's loss of sanity and Ziva prowling around like a hound dog on the move trying to sniff something out probably having to do to with some DiNozzo funny business he did not want to know about, had him losing his sleep. They needed a real case, preferably one with total strangers and even stranger suspects.
And his kinky meeting with DiNozzo, Sr. He was glad he had not had to tell Tony the details about that meeting because he felt it would have been an unforgivable betrayal on his part that would have shown up in his voice, that he liked the guy. Even after Tony had told them of the abysmal NYC nightmare of a trip that he had suffered at the hands of the man who could turn his back on his own son like that, he had liked the man he had met in that bar. Tim gave up on getting any sleep and sat at Abby's desk and turned on her computer to start his searches. He watched as everything on the screen scrolled faster than his eyes...could...follow.
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"McGee? McGee, wakey, wakey." Abby stood over him shaking his shoulder. He came to with a start and with a crick in his neck, and hoped he hadn't been drooling.
"Oh, hey, Abby. Guess I fell asleep."
"Yeah, you should get your adenoids checked. I could hear you in the elevator."
"Really, Abby because..."
"I'm just kidding, Timmy...uh Tim. What're ya doing?"
"We got the name of the guy who hopefully can lead us to the top dogs in this organ donor scam." McGee turned to the still scanning computer and made some minor adjustments.
Abby stood uncertainly beside him. "Can we talk, Tim?"
He turned to the Goth who was dressed in her normal garb, short skirt and all the trimmings. She looked paler, somewhat subdued and sadly, older.
"Of course, Abby. How've you been doing?" That was a little awkward but Tim was at a loss as to what would not feel uncomfortable with her at this stage. Was she still mad at him for kicking her out of his apartment, siding with Tony, ogling the picture, okay never mind about that picture?
"Well, you would know if you came down to see me Tim instead of avoiding me at all costs!" Abby strode back and forth while issuing this admonition in a loud, agitated voice before returning to stand in front of McGee again.
McGee sat stiffly, somberly. Sadly he realized she hadn't changed, hadn't learned a thing.
"Okay, I've got that off my chest which is what I would have said and done before because it was what I was feeling for a second. But I've been learning, and you don't always have to act on your feelings in the moment. I reasoned to myself that why would he want to come down here to visit me of all people when I have been nothing but an evil friend to him..."
"Ab...by?" McGee was floored.
Abby sighed and sat in the other chair facing Tim. "I'm sorry Tim, that I have been such a poor friend to you, yelling and carrying on. I'm not going to harp on all the things I've done wrong and I have no excuse except that I was arrogant and thought I knew what was best for you like you were a child. Can you forgive me?"
"I...of course I forgive you Abby. And you know why?" He was quick to reassure, and smiled fondly in relief as she shook her head making her pigtails fly. She had changed.
"Because this is the first and only time you have apologized to me about anything and everything you have ever done to me, so I know you mean it." He held up his hand as she obviously wanted to say something.
"Let me finish first, please Abby, as I have to apologize to you also. I realize I let you run roughshod over me instead of standing up for myself and refusing to accept that kind of treatment from you so there was no reason for you to stop. That stops now."
He watched as she digested what he had said and what he hadn't said. In any relationship they might have, she would no longer be a bully and he would no longer be a wimp to her demands. That being understood, their friendship could start a new beginning.
"So you're saying it's both our faults then, McGee. We'll both do better." Relieved and grinning, she spun her chair around. "Wheee, I can live with that, thank you Tim."
"Finished merry go rounding Abby? Gibbs strode in briskly. "You stay here all night McGee? Thought I told you to go home."
"Abby's futon is like sleeping on my bed at home, Boss." Tim turned to the computer. "So far, this guy's name isn't coming up in any of the databases, including the FBI, CIA and all the other agencies, the military and whatnot."
"Keep trying. In the meantime Tony and Fornell are working on getting that building's security tapes. Maybe we can get a face to go with the name. There's breakfast upstairs, McGee and coffee. Better hurry up before DiNozzo eats it all."
"Why that glutton...See you later Abby." And McGee left hurriedly. Gibbs, turning to follow was stopped by Abby's quiet voice. She had gone to her coat tree and was donning her clean white jacket to start work.
"It feels funny not seeing Tony on your six anymore like when you guys used to come down here together, Gibbs. Remember, he used to be a step behind you but he never got in your way and you never got in his."
Gibbs paused without turning around.
"He hasn't been down here since that day at your house when I tried to brain him; and incidentally, Bossman, you are next on my list to apologize to for showing no respect for the sanctity of your home. But right now, it's Tony. He's been very polite whenever he has been forced to talk to me. Very polite and distant Gibbs."
"Abby..."
"No, Gibbs. You can't fix this, I know that. I know it'll have to be me to make it better. But I have to be better first. I just wanted to ask, is he ever going to forgive me? I just want to know what you think."
"Abby, I honestly don't know. And you won't either until you talk to him about it."
Gibbs walked over to her, leaned over and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Find some time alone and talk to him." He chuckled as he turned to leave again.
"But get in line. Ziva's been chasing him all over the place and he hasn't stopped running yet. Hopefully, she'll get it soon that they're traveling in opposite directions and they're not gonna stop at the same station or even be on the same track."
"You seem pretty sure, Gibbs. How do you know?"
"Hell, Abby, I've been married four times. You think I don't know when a man's not chasing a woman?" The glass doors swished closed on his exit.
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The security tapes showed a nondescript man about six feet tall wearing a baseball cap with a propensity to not look directly into the hidden cameras. The man's addiction to tobacco though proved that to disregard the ordinance not to smoke when you're in a non-smoking building by smoking was pretty foolish considering the other hidden cameras hooked to smoke detectors the engineers of the building had had installed as prototypes.
The concept was if the sensors sensed smoke, take a picture. That is just what the camera did as the man lit up in the elevator but failed to notice the other hidden camera; said camera catching a good view of squinty blue eyes, dark hair, crooked nose and scar, right jaw.
"Fornell's working on this guys' ID, Boss, with the picture and name, and I sent Abby an email to start looking too." Tony said as he cleared his desk of breakfast trash and coffee cups. It looked like the team had sat around his desk to eat this morning and probably discuss what they knew so far about this case.
McGee was standing in front of the TV when Gibbs returned. "Boss, the only people who could get Gregor DiNozzo's name moved from fiftieth to first has to be someone from the National network itself. Tony suggested it had to have happened in increments because it would have been too obvious any other way. So someone on the inside is acting as a go between; pay off someone on the list to have their name removed, Gregor's name gets booted up." McGee went back to his desk and resumed his seat frustrated that they were getting nowhere.
"In the meantime we have couriers transporting illegally obtained body parts, people being paid off, people being divested of organs against their will for all we know, and a homicide. And yet, we have nothing. We are up a gum-tree." Tony started to congratulate her on getting it right for once but at her sour look daring him to say anything, Tony turned back to the screen.
"Yeah, we're stumped alright. Okay what are we missing?"
"Are you just waking up from your nap, Tony? We have already summarized what we do not have. Perhaps you can tell us what we do have."
"Well, Ms Snotty, as a matter of fact, I'm thinking we need to know where this guy came from."
"Ms Snotty, what is that Tony?" Ziva frowned knowing it was an insult Tony had just labeled her with.
Forestalling further bickering and future head slaps, Tim turned to his computer. "So you're saying, what? Look for this guy's vehicle?"
"McParking attendant, you've been there. Would you drive a car in that mess if you didn't want to have to search out and avoid every camera while you were trying to find a place to park?"
"What're ya getting at DiNozzo?" Gibbs looked expectant. They needed something to jump start this case.
"Follow the cab he came in and follow the cab he left in. Get the license plate or the cab number or the cab company or the driver's I.D. number. There are traffic cameras on ever block in that neighborhood. Follow the live traffic cam to where he really parked his car or see if he went into a building, then we've got him."
While Tony had been talking, McGee's fingers were working his keyboard.
"I'll call Fornell. They probably have access to better live video feed then we'll ever get." And Tony sat at his desk to make the call.
"Good work, DiNozzo. I think that's telling us what we do have, don't cha think, Ziva?" Gibbs threw her way as he took the stairs up to MTAC.
Ziva looked furiously over at Tony who was not looking her way but she could have sworn he had been following Gibbs' remark. The man was infuriating always coming up with the simplest things that could break their cases wide open. Why hadn't she thought of that? She didn't know who she was angrier with, Tony for coming up with the idea or Gibbs for throwing it in her face that he had. And she had to admit, she was getting frustratingly annoyed at Gibbs and everything that seemed to stand in the way of her attaining the goals she had set out to accomplish.
Gibbs did not seem to want to leave Tony alone with her but all she needed was some time alone with him to talk to him again and explain her position with a little less forcefulness and a lot more femininity. She could do that.
But she could not do that if she could not get him alone. Did she have to show up on his doorstep again with another bottle of expensive wine? Only this time she would make sure she was around to actually watch him drink it.
And just thinking about how Dorneget had taken great pleasure in telling her that Tony had actually dumped every item of food she had brought into a garbage bag and thrown it outside in the trash that same night, even the special cake that she had spent four hours making, had made her want to use her knives on him, on both of them, slowly.
And it upset her, though she would never admit it, that Tony had so little trust or feeling for her that he would do that. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she started in her seat at Gibbs' whistle from the balcony.
"MTAC, now!"
The team was standing in front of the screen watching their man walk up to the DiNozzo building and enter. He thought he was pretty smart by getting out of the cab a few blocks north and walking the rest of the way to his destination but cameras could track people on foot as well as cars.
The yellow cab he got out of license plate was starkly visible. When he left the building later, he walked two blocks back to the same general area where the cab he hailed also had a visible license plate. Amazing increased surveillance technology since 9/11 especially in DC, NYC and other major US cities, along with strengthened and expanded anti-terrorism and law enforcement powers enabled them to follow the cab to Brooklyn where he was dropped off at the main entrance to Prospect Park and climbed into the back seat of a waiting vehicle. With a clear license plate visible.
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The car was registered to The Hedley Import and Export Company involved in international trade of teak from India, Indonesia and Malaysia and bamboo from East Asia. Marcher Hedley, who also goes by Mark Hedley, is the CEO of the company.
"Mark Hedley makes five or six trips out of the country a year. His company has the monopoly on importing teak and bamboo. Neither he nor his company has been on the FBI's radar, everything appears legit.
Tim read from the printout from Fornell while sitting in the back seat of the car. Tony sat next to him with his head back and eyes closed. Ziva was in the front passenger seat sipping tea from a traveling mug. They were heading to Virginia to the import/export company in search of their mystery man with the scar. Gibbs was driving so they had made more than good time.
They arrived in Herndon, Virginia around noon. The renovated six-story building that housed the import/export company evoked the era of the 1920's with faux limestone colonnades and bronze trim. The gracious lobby was detailed in teak and bamboo with light colored walls and well lit, no-host reception area. The elevators were straight back and a large information monitor on the wall showed Hedley's company was on the sixth floor, with the rest of the building rented out.
"Ziva, you and Tim take each floor. Show the picture to anyone you find. Meet back down here when you're done." They all got on the elevator with the two junior agents getting off on the second floor and Gibbs and DiNozzo proceeded to the sixth.
"We have an appointment to see Marcher Hedley." Gibbs told the receptionist, a middle aged woman with too much makeup.
"Of course, he's expecting you. Go right in." The woman pressed a buzzer and a door to her right unlocked.
Marcher Hedley was sitting behind his desk when they entered. Gibbs hadn't mentioned the name of the other investigator with him but he watched Hedley closely and sure enough, there was a moment of surprised recognition in his eyes when he first glimpsed his SFA before his expression became neutral.
"Gentlemen, please have a seat. And how can I help you agents from NCIS?"
"We're looking for this man. Do you know who he is?"
Mark Hedley's Adam's apple bobbed vigorously once and sweat popped out on his forehead. He portrayed anger as he perused the picture but Gibbs' gut said fear not anger was causing the reaction.
"Yes, I had to terminate this man's employment just the other day for taking a company car and using it for his own personal business. What kind of trouble has he gotten into?"
"What's this man's name and what kind of work did he do for you? Ignoring the man's question, Tony spoke up for the first time. Hedley swallowed harshly and licked suddenly dry lips.
"Yes, of course. His name is Robert Grandview. He worked in security and as a bodyguard during our overseas buying trips, and ...uh here is his address and phone number although I have tried calling him to get our keys and cellphone back but he doesn't answer. May I ask why you need to find him?"
"We need to speak to him regarding a homicide in New York a few days ago. Do you know this man? Gibbs showed him the picture of the young man killed in his apartment.
"No, I've never seen him before. Look I've told you all I know about Mr Grandview and I do have other business to attend to." Hedley stood preparing to show them to the door.
"Do you know anything about the illegal transporting of human organs, Mr Hedley?"
"What? No! Now please, if you don't mind." And he pointed to the door with a trembling finger. Gibbs glared at the man one last time as they left.
"He's scared shitless."
"Should we get a mop?" Tony asked Gibbs as he stood beside him as they waited for the elevator. He looked over at Gibbs and could tell the man was itching to get the guy back to NCIS for a little more intimidation... err... interrogation tactics one on one.
"Well he recognized you, DiNozzo."
"Yeah, I got that." The door opened and they stepped inside with Tim and Ziva already present.
"Anything?"
"The only business we found open in this building is on the second floor, Boss, which is odd because the sign downstairs indicates the building is fully occupied." McGee stated as he pressed the button to the first floor.
Ziva looked suspicious as she related what else they had learned.
"Yes, and there was a commercial dry cleaning sign up, but in this building, dry cleaning? I do not think so. There were a few workers we could see behind the large window into the room where they seemed to be working on bolts of material but the receptionist was not very helpful. She said she had never seen our man before and would not allow us entry to question the workers without a warrant."
"You know there are too many TV watchers in this country. Everybody knows the first thing to say is warrant, even if they speak no other English it's, 'got a warrant'?" Tony was interrupted when the doors opened on the second floor but no one got on.
"Guess no one was interested in hearing your soliloquy, DiNozzo..." Tim snarked when suddenly a piece of crumpled paper was thrown into the crack of the almost closed door. Their first reaction was to jump back thinking poison gas or bomb, and they all tumbled out when the doors opened on the first floor. Gibbs retrieved the paper and put it in his pocket before they walked out and to their car.
'Tonight movin moving pleople come.' Read the cryptic, misspelled handwritten missive.
"What the hell does that mean?" Tony said as they sat in the car a few blocks away.
"Moving people? What people? And to where?" Ziva had the crumpled paper in a clear evidence bag as she reread the note.
"What do we do, Boss? McGee and the others waited.
Making up his mind, Gibbs put the car in drive and took off. "We go back tonight and get the moving people. That's what we do."
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McGee and I are sitting in the car on this damn freezing night watching the parking lot from across the street. Did I mention it was freezing? Gibbs, Ziva and Fornell are in another car and his FBI agents are in position on the rooftops and the street.
"Gibbs, we got infrared." Fornell's man reported through his mic. "Looks like there are about thirty humans in a sub-basement in a group, uh...looks like there down in the middle of the floor. Wait, there's another group standing...holy cow! They're getting ready to shoot these people. We're going in. Move! Move! move!
I jumped out of the car and ran for all I was worth. My teammates were running and an army of Fornell's agents were beating feet also. The front doors were being forced open and agents hurrying inside. McGee and I and a few of Fornell's men came from the back and had nothing to force the doors with so we threw a garbage can into the window and clambered in that way.
McGee got cut on broken glass but said he was okay. I had to trust that he was not lying about how severe his injury was. I couldn't have made him stay back anyway as long as he was on his own two feet. The door leading to the basement was locked, dammit. Fortunately, it wasn't that hard to shoot it loose. But there was nothing in the basement. All the action was on the floor below it in the sub-basement and there was no apparent entrance, no door to the sub-basement from here that we could find.
But we kept frantically searching for a door going down, those people didn't have much time. Finally, one of the men found the door behind a bulky safe that took two men to move. We ran down the stairs in the eerily dark and silent passage until it wasn't silent anymore. Muffled screams, coming from an area up the corridor had us making a right turn to a large cavernous room ahead.
Loud and hissing machinery probably air conditioning and heating units and industrial sized washers and dryers were present whose noise gave us good cover as we were able to get closer without these fools knowing armed Federal agents were in their midst.
But there were only nine of us to their twenty or so men all heavily armed. That seemed a little overkill; their prisoners were a majority of women and children. Who were these guys, better question, who were the odd lot they were guarding; six men, eleven woman and at least fifteen children of all sizes, some even being carried in arms, all huddled on mats on the floor while being surrounded by men with guns.
We weren't gonna be able to get any closer into the open room without being seen but we got into as good a position to storm the room as we could. When everyone was ready, we were going in with guns blazing like the magnificent nine, yeah, I'd play the Yul Brynner character Chris and I'd let Tim McQueen wannabe here be Vin..shit where were the boss and Fornell and his men? One of the guards had been on the phone and when he hung up said those inhumane words, "Kill them then let's get the hell out of here."
And unbelievably the men turned their weapons to obey that command. We couldn't allow that to happen so forget protocol and any altruistic warnings of FBI, NCIS throw down your weapons crap; we'd give them as much mercy as they were about to give these poor people.
We started shooting without warning catching them totally by surprise. That gave four of us a chance to go low and run to the hostages and believe me, a hail of bullets gives one quite a bit of incentive to keep moving at a fast pace but at least their guns were pointing at us now and not firing at some little kid's defenseless head.
The other agents had found some shelter to give us cover while McGee and I, and agents Harris and Nickas made it to the hostages who were still huddled on the floor. They had managed to get the little ones in the center and thrown their bodies over them to protect them as best they could. Some of the perps had still managed to turn their weapons on the defenseless humans on the ground and I could see some of them taking bullets. What the hell was their plan; kill the hostages so they couldn't talk? Either way these guys weren't getting out of here for it to matter.
When we got to them, it was apparent why they hadn't moved or tried to find cover. The adults and older children had been shackled to the ground with chains and leg irons to bolts pounded into the floor. They weren't going anywhere. We crawled in front of the huddled mass, McGee on my left and the FBI agents on my right and started shooting back from our over exposed position on the floor. We needed to take these guys out soon or we'd all be full of holes.
I was on my stomach firing at any spark I saw and my ammo was all but gone. I checked McGee who had blood dripping down the side of his head but who was kneeling low on one knee in front of two children and still firing his weapon. He'd taken a bullet to the chest, I saw him flinch and so had I, but our vests saved the day. I'd have to tell him he looked like Eliot Ness, the TV series not Kevin; face set with determination, kneeling like that with his gun pointing true north and the background music crescendoing.
The FBI agent who had thrown himself on top of another few people had bullet holes in his back and wasn't moving but the bullet hole in his head is what killed him. The barrier we had formed, me, McGee the lion and the other brave man, stood our ground. We were all the protection these people had and we would stay there until we ran out of ammunition or were dead. That's just the way it was.
Even though we had taken out half their men during out surprising ambush, still we were outnumbered and out gunned. Where were Gibbs, Ziva, Fornell and the rest of his men? My mind screamed the question and it wanted the answer.
Later, we would find out that there was no entrance to the sub-basement from the front. The troop had to backtrack to the back of the building from the outside and come through the broken window to gain entry. Something it seemed Mr Hedley and his cohorts had specifically designed during renovation to keep anyone accidentally gaining access to the subbasement while looking for a door to the bathroom. This building had been renovated five years ago. Whatever was going on here had been going on for five years.
"I'm out of ammo." McGee admitted quietly. Yeah, me too. He had wiped at the blood on the side of his face so now there was smeared blood and grime, a much better look. The remaining FBI agent with us was still taking careful aim firing at any head that popped up so he wouldn't waste bullets but he wouldn't last much longer either. There was sporadic firing from the other agents and the perps had learned that these guys were excellent shooters, stick any part of your anatomy out and you'd have a hole in it, so they were leery of sticking their heads up to get more potshots at us.
Then, it looked like the perps were going to make a run to get the hell out of there as six men stood up en masse and started running toward the door screaming like banshee's, firing their weapons, but at least away from the hostages.
They didn't get far. From above snipers took aim and eliminated their targets. I bet Ziva and Gibbs were up there on top of those beams or swinging from a rope. That's all that we needed our team to the rescue. In a panic, the men turned and came our way running backwards and shooting at the horde of men that came in through the door. We put our heads down and hoped not to get shot by friendly fire.
Finally, it was all over except for the bitching and moaning the remaining three big burly killers of children were doing as the one's still standing, except they were lying on the ground after assuming the position, were roughly treated to similar shackles they had kept their poor victims in and hauled to the waiting transportation Vans where they would be locked up and maybe treated for their minor injuries. The others were either dead or needed an ambulance.
I was finally able to crawl to my hands and shaky knees and get to my feet. Hey, the adrenalin will do that. I looked over at McGee who had also risen and we nodded to each other glad we had both made it out alive. I felt a hand at my ankle and looked down to see one of the woman I had parked my body in front of blessing me, thanking me and praising me while she held two little children up so they could kiss my feet.
I didn't understand a word she said because she was speaking what sounded like Chinese and actually, all the hostages looked Asian, even Southeast Asian, possibly East Indian. All the countries this company had business in human trafficking.
I bent down to pat her back and heaved the kids off my feet and up into my arms, cute little things, two and three years old maybe faces smeared with tears and snot. Just babies now fighting over who was going to wear my cap. Gibbs came over and gave the older one his cap and they were happy campers.
"They look good on you, DiNozzo. You okay?" Gibbs had gone to check on my bloody partner before checking on me. "Yeah, Tim?"
"Glass when he came in the window. Needs stitches." I saw McGee being led to an emergency triage area.
"Good." Something I could torment McClumsy about. "And, Boss, we were both wondering where the hell were you guys?" Ziva breezed by carrying some little tyke and holding a little girl by the hand, both wrapped snugly in blankets and each carrying a teddy bear towards the exit.
As it were, out of the nine FBI agents that had come in with McGee and I, two had lost their lives and one was badly wounded. Fourteen of the terrorists were dead, mostly in the last few minutes as they would not lay down their weapons but chose to fight to the death. Three of the hostages were dead; two adults and a little boy and several were wounded.
Fornell's men were all over the place now unshackling the people on the floor and distributing blankets before leading them out to waiting ambulances. Fornell had one guy who remained belligerent even in handcuffs being led away.
"I want a lawyer that's all I got to say. Get me my mouthpiece that's all I'm saying." He kept repeating that stupid phrase like a lawyer was going to miraculously get his ass out of the electric chair or Gitmo, the jerk.
"You forgot to ask for a warrant, too, dumb ass." I couldn't help throwing in.
"What, I don't need a warrant. You guys don't have a warrant? Then you need to let me go, man."
Fornell who had just lost two men and was ready to slit this guy's throat was not in the mood and really needed to get this gibbering fool out of here before he became another statistic. I passed the two little munchkins who had fallen asleep on my shoulders with their NCIS caps askew off to two agents who left with the woman still gesticulating at me in reverence.
"What's with this guy, Fornell?" Gibbs was watching the jerk like a mother eagle searching for food for her little ones. The guy took the glare as his cue to shut up.
"He's going to talk to us once he gets his lawyer and he's going to tell us everything we want to know about what's going on here."
"Yeah, you ain't got no warrant, you can't hold me and when the Boss finds out what you've done here, you're all gonna lose your high paying bullshittin' jobs and get your asses in jail not me."
I played a hunch; this guy was a no brainer.
"You're right, we need to get a warrant or this is all gonna fall through. What's wrong with you Fornell? Stupid FBI. You should have thought of that before busting in here like you owned the place. So, who should we get the warrant to, to make sure this is right?...what's your name by the way just to keep the records straight?"
"I'm Freddy, just Freddy, not Fre der ick."
"Okay, got it? Now who, just so we have the proper person, you understand so there are no mistakes? Who should we get the warrant to, Freddy?" I pulled out pen and small pad.
"Yeah, okay, at least you come prepared with the proper tools. Not like some people with no warrant." And he sneered at Fornell.
Then the idiot snorted, anxious to let everyone see how smart he was. "I'm not supposed to know this but I got my ways. So you just call Judge Reynolds. He'll set things straight with you federal busybodies buttin' in where you don't have a warrant."
"Okay, we'll call...uh what's his first name by the way and it would help if you had an address or phone number."
"First names John. Judge John Reynolds." He suddenly looked slyly at me as though pulling one over on me. "But I ain't telling you his phone number or address in Des Moines until I see your warrant, man."
We all looked at each other in utter amazement as Fornell's men hauled him away. "Is he for real or is he jerking us around?"
Ncisncisncisncis
So, we've been back at NCIS a week. Freddy had been for real alright. The short-on- brains blabbermouth was the brother of one of the guys who had been killed, who had been tasked with taking care of his brother when their parents had died. So he dragged him to a shootout and stuck a gun in his hand.
With Freddy's information the dominoes started falling one by one. The Judge lives a lifestyle way beyond his means that he attributed to good investments and a rich wife. He was considered a fair and impartial judge. His cronies were a Senator, two surgeons and a pastry chef. All upstanding citizens.
One of the surgeons was on the board of doctor's who could influence an organ recipient's place in line. The other men just bought or stole men, women and children from other countries for the sole purpose of harvesting their organs. And they had all lawyered up so no one was telling what happened to the people or bodies, once they were done with their harvesting.
Mark Hedley was picked up at the airport in Puerto Rico. He hadn't even gone home to pack just caught a cab the moment we left and got on the first plane out of dodge. He had allowed his company to be used for the most heinous of crimes; the slaughter of innocent men, woman and children, may he rot in hell.
The guy with the scar, Robert Grandview had numerous aliases. A little plastic surgery, nose job, teeth capped and the computer's facial recognition program could not identify him. He had killed the young boyfriend just for seeing his brand new face and decided he wasn't going back to jail, and shot it out with a couple dozen police while fleeing to Mexico in a stolen car.
Everyone involved in this case was signed up for mandatory counseling, both NCIS and the FBI. The FBI was giving McGee and me commendations for valor above and beyond the call of duty, wow, for our suicide mission.
The group of aliens we had rescued were none of them related. They had banded together to take care of the children and their original group had been about forty people. They never saw those people again once they were taken away.
So, now it was just me and Ziva in the bullpen. Gibbs had gone for coffee and Abby had come to get McGee to kiss his boo boo again and take him to dinner and he was lapping it up. She seemed to have calmed down. Wonder where Simmons is? I hope she wasn't setting McGee up for a fall if Simmons showed up again.
It was already late and I was finishing up paperwork and I don't know what Ziva was still doing here but I wasn't in the mood...for anything with her. I had a hot date. Margret had flown in some hours ago and was waiting for me at my condo. I had flowers, candy, wine, and Carmel corn that she loved. And I was making shrimp in lobster sauce over rice, her favorite.
"Tony, would you care to have dinner with me, my treat?" I had honestly forgotten the woman was around with my heady plans for Margret dancing in my head. Ziva was sitting at her desk asking me nicely for a date. It was kinda sweet. But no.
"No, Ziva. I already have a date for the evening and for many evenings to come I hope. Please try to understand that and quit wasting your time." I looked at her with pity knowing how much she would hate that emotion coming from me or anyone.
And surely enough, her eyes narrowed in anger. "Please do not presume to tell me what is or is not a waste of my time, Tony. I do not consider it a waste of time to pursue goals I have set for myself. And it is just dinner, not a date."
"Then let me put it to you this way, Ziva so you'll understand. I do not want to have an intimate dinner with you." I didn't yell but something in my voice had her take note.
"You are serious, Tony? This is not a game you are playing to keep me hanging? You really are not interested?"
She was finally getting it. Her face was devoid of expression.
"I am not interested, Ziva." I made it as sincere as I could that there would be no if's, and's or but's. There would be nothing...going on between us.
"Then I thank you for clearing it up, Tony. I was under the misunderstanding...I will not bother you again. Goodnight."
I let her go with nothing further to be said. I hoped she would work this out within herself as I would hate to lose her as a partner.
Ncisncisncis
The next morning Tim had come in early to finish paperwork from last night. Gibbs had told him he could leave early. Just be in early to finish his work. Ziva also sat at her desk reading her email and drinking hot tea.
"Where's DiNozzo? He's late." Came from a grumpy Gibbs who needed to go get his third cup of coffee.
The elevator dinged its arrival and Gibbs and McGee looked up expecting Tony. Ziva studiously ignored it all. What they saw though was a beautiful, tall, dark haired woman dressed in a designer jogging suit with a frown of worry on her face being escorted to MCRT by security.
"Margret?" Tim jumped from his seat to meet her halfway.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh Tim. Have you seen Tony?"
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A/N: Where's Tony?