Disclaimer : Still own nothing. Just having fun.
Author's Note : Thanks to everyone who's read, favorited and alerted so far. Also, many many thanks for the reviews.
To answers Sky Spade 's question - yes, there will be some Tim and Tony hero action. Tim alone, next chapter. Then together in a few.
Let me know what you guys are thinking so far. I love to hear it!
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3:41pm – Forensics Lab- NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC –
Clutching his nearly empty coffee cup, Gibbs watches some sort of scan stream across the monitor on the lab bench. As the red and blue pixels blend together into a torrent of purple, his gaze drifts to the cables that attach Tim's desktop to Abby's computer. Gibbs shakes his head, certain that his junior agent wouldn't vanish without a good reason…but he still wonders why he wasn't alerted.
Gibbs emits a low growl, starting a list of extra work that'll keep Tim occupied when he turns up again. Just as he plans to make him clean autopsy with his toothbrush, he finds Fornell staring at him intently. When their eyes meet, Gibbs offers the last of his coffee. After a polite headshake from his friend, he shrugs and empties the cup, hoping it will quell the burning in his stomach.
I need Abby to find out what would make McGee leave without telling me.
When a pulsating green replaces the purple on the monitor, Gibbs glances around the corner of the lab shelves. Hunched over her desk in the inner office, Abby attempts to reconstruct Tim's phone…that he hurled against the wall earlier. Her shoulders rise as she lets out a shaky breath.
"Abs?"
"Oh my way, Gibbs," she calls, popping out of her office to the lab bench.
In the green screen, he can see her distorted reflection as she clicks through the options. When her brow furrows, Fornell shoots him a concerned glance. Holding up a finger, Gibbs slides next to her. Her eyes meet his.
"Whaddya got, Abs?"
"A whole lot of nothing, Gibbs," she murmurs grimly. "I put the phone back together. The only calls on it are from you and Ziva. Nothing after 2AM this morning…speaking of which, why were you bothering McGee in the middle of the night anyway?"
While she waits for a reply, an uneasy silence falls over them. His gaze jumps from her to the monitor and back again until he realizes that she won't move on without an explanation. With an exasperated eye roll, he crushes his coffee cup before cocking his head at her. Fornell lets out something that resembles a laugh.
"Just felt like talking."
"Yeah, I could see that," she says, gesturing to the desktop. "I'm still trying to get into his computer. It's a lot harder than I thought. While you might not believe it, McGee's actually pretty paranoid about his work. It's like trying to break into the CIA or the FBI."
"You've done it before, haven't you?" Gibbs questions.
Her sly grin vanishes when she notices Fornell, peering around Gibbs' back.
"I don't have any idea what you're talking about…but if there are so many security protocols on a desktop in a federal agency surrounded by agents, can you imagine what's on McGee's personal one?"
While her eyes light up at the thought and she grins wistfully, Gibbs shrugs.
Fornell exhales loudly, finally joining them at the bench.
"Security levels?" he asks.
"Oh yeah," Abby laughs. "The main operating system's password protected, but that was easy to get into. It doesn't take a genius to guess that his password is…well, nevermind, he'd kill me if I let it slip. The real problem is that the hard drive's encrypted so I need to find the key to de –"
"Abs?" Gibbs interjects.
" – crypt it. But it looks like he wiped his browsing history which makes it more – "
"Abs?"
"- difficult to reconstruct. Then I need to figure out – "
"Abby, pretend that I know nothing about computers," Fornell interrupts, features pinched in confusion.
"That's not hard," Gibbs whispers.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
The two share a narrowed eye stare while Abby glances between them. Framing her monitor with her hands, she grins awkwardly until Fornell turns to her first. Gibbs cracks a wry smile and shakes his head, finally paying attention.
"Since McGee seems like he's worried about someone breaking into his computer, he set up a bunch of parameters that make it harder to access. He set the hard drive to save itself in a different language that I don't have a key for yet and he erased his web history so I don't know what he saw. I need to rebuild the search and see if he saved anything to his memory."
"Meaning?"
Her shoulders hitch as she pulls in a deep breath. When she pushes it through her teeth, Gibbs recognizes the action that he bears witness to nearly every case.
That means she'll say 'this might take a while.'
"This might take a while," Abby admits, lip jutting out into a small frown. While she types aggressively at the keyboard, Fornell checks his watch, raising his eyebrows. Another scan appears, and the stream of reds and blues restarts. Gibbs holds his mangled coffee cup to his lips, just in case there's a few errant drops still left behind.
"I think you're out, Jethro," Fornell assesses.
Smiling tightly, Gibbs hurls the empty container into the trash. Abby suddenly leans backward, pressing her body deeply into his. When he wraps his arm around her shoulders, Fornell nods, disappearing into the inner office. Finally alone, Abby's attempts to stay strong crumble as she glances up at Gibbs with tears brimming at the edge of her eyes.
"I know I promised that I wouldn't ask again, but do you think he's okay?"
"He's fine, Abs. Nothing says anything different."
"What about Tony?"
"DiNozzo's fine too."
"Will you – "
"Find him so you can give him a head-slap? Promise."
The scent of strawberries tickles his nose as he kisses her hair. While they stand in silence, he can barely feel the tiny quakes that shake her body. When a wet patch forms on his shoulder, he pulls her tighter, allowing the chore list for Tim's penance to lengthen.
Fornell re-appears at the corner of the lab bench. Abby stiffens, rubbing her eyes as she ducks away from Gibbs.
"Uh, um…sorry to interrupt, but Abby, there's something on your computer. Might be an e-mail?" Fornell says quietly, pointing to the office.
Although she smiles politely, the mascara trails down her face betray her. Gibbs silently follows the pair into the office, watching Abby fall into her desk chair. When she finds the e-mail alert on her monitor, she bites her lip, clicking the mouse several times. Gibbs' gut clenches unexpectedly as her eyes dart across the screen, the little color visible on her cheeks draining away.
"It's from McGee," she relays, wide eyes meeting Gibbs'. "It says that the FBI has Tony on a suspect list for a murder. He wanted to talk to you about Tony, but had to get out before the dragon lady stopped him. Something's happened to him."
"Whaddya mean 'something's happened to him?'" Gibbs asks, stepping closer to her.
"McGee set up a time-delay on the e-mail. If he doesn't stop it, it will send itself at a preset time. Since we got it, something happened. Something bad." She swallows hard, narrowing her eyes at Fornell. "What's this about the FBI suspecting Tony of murder?"
Fornell holds out his hands and shakes his head. "Not all of us think so."
"Abs, let's find them first. We can figure this mess out later," Gibbs suggests, sighing with relief when her glare softens.
When a lull in the ever-present music leaves a momentary silence, Gibbs can actually hear himself think. As soon as it comes, the quiet is replaced with a new song, its thrashing beat pulsating through the lab. Abby's head rocks in time with the music, her fingers slamming against the keyboard. Peering over her shoulder, Gibbs watches her run a trace on a cell phone. Since he already destroyed Tim's, he figures it must be Tony's number. A map of the tri-county area appears on the screen, narrowing onto the Northwest quadrant of Washington. After it triangulates to the Columbia Heights neighborhood, an address pops up on the screen.
"Found 'em, Gibbs. McGee sent me Tony's undercover cell phone number. Must've tracked it to this restaurant in Columbia Heights," she grins, scrawling the address on a scrap of paper. "Looks like they're still there."
"Good work, Abs. Call me if they move," Gibbs says, pulling out his cell to contact Ziva.
Gibbs rushes into the hallway, seeing Abby grab Fornell's arm on their way out. While he listens to the phone ring, Gibbs watches the conversation between his friends. Based on the serious look on Fornell's face and the way Abby's knuckles turn white as she grips his shirt, it can't be good.
Just as Gibbs is about to double-back to join them, a husky voice sounds on the line.
"Yes, Gibbs?"
"Ziva, grab Suzuki and meet me in the garage in five." He doesn't need any confirmation other than the click on the other end. With a jerk of his head, Gibbs tells Fornell they need to leave. Neither of them speak until they're halfway to the elevator. "What'd she say?'
Fornell presses his lips together.
"She told me that if I could get her the evidence in Morales' murder, she'll prove that I'm right."
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3:53pm – Enrico Carreras' Private Office, Warehouse - Somewhere Near the Navy Yard ,Washington, DC -
Even though Tony lies on the lumpy couch with his eyes closed tightly, sleep's the last thing on his mind. Despite his best efforts to think about something else, his thoughts continually whirl back to the moment when he found Tim in the taqueria.
The terrified look in the younger man's eyes is still emblazoned on his brain.
His breath hitches, mind whirring at all the other ways the situation could've played out. While Carreras never would've agreed to release his partner, Tony could have tried something else…anything else. He could've pulled his gun, rushed Tim to safety and tried to recover the mission later. Even though he can't think of an explanation now, it doesn't mean that there couldn't be one.
He presses his lips together, wondering why he didn't just wait until Hector took Tim to the wharf. One phone call to Gibbs at the taqueria and he would be in the NCIS interrogation room now. Tony would still be on the mission while Tim and Gibbs would be leaning on Hector to get intel about Carreras' operation.
Of all the choices that he could've made, why did he convince Carreras to take his partner hostage?
It made sense at the time…at least, Tony thinks it did. He just needed to maintain the mission's status quo as well as keep Tim alive long enough to contact Gibbs. His other options would've left Carreras suspicious and threatened Tim.
He just needs to keep everything moving until he finds out where Carreras keeps the other girls.
Listening to the quiet rustling of papers on the opposite side of the room, Tony grimaces inwardly. Based on the sounds, Carreras is still at his desk, probably working on something for his evil empire. Biting the inside of his cheek, Tony hopes that the dealer will leave soon so he can search the office for the cartel's cache of burner phones. As soon as he finds one, he can call Gibbs.
All he needs -
"I know you're not asleep," Carreras says suddenly, making Tony flinch.
"Yeah, just can't seem to get comfortable. There's a freakin' spring in my back," Tony replies, hauling himself up onto the arm of the couch.
Deeply invested in the pages on the desk, Carreras says, "Well, I have been meaning to get a new one."
Tony picks a spot of exposed padding. "Not a bad idea."
After several uncomfortable moments, he hops to his feet, figuring he can double back for a phone later. By the time he hits the door, his skin crawl. After all his years on Gibbs' team, he's used to the feeling of someone watching. When he glances over his shoulder, he meets Carreras' gaze.
"Do we have a problem, Tony?"
"Uh, no, we're cool. Why?"
"You've been worked up since we picked up that fed. Remember that you convinced me to bring him back here. Death would've been easy on him, but you never did like to keep things clean," Carreras says, crumpling a piece of paper before he drops it into a waste bin.
Tony swallows hard, shaking his head.
"It's not about the fed. It's the girls. Harder to deal with than I thought. Real different than those guys in Baltimore. It's one thing when some guys are rippin' you off, but these girls? They're just kids."
Carreras nods solemnly, leaning back in his chair. Pressing his lips together, Tony shifts his weight deliberately as Carreras opens one of the desk drawers.
His heart drops when a gun appears, the polished metal glinting under the fluorescenct lights. It only takes the flick of his wrist to point the barrel at Tony.
"You know, Tony, I think it's time for you to get the fuck over it."