"You?" DiNozzo's voice was filled with shock and disbelief.
"That's right, DiNozzo."
"So... who's after you?"
"Svetlana Novikova."
Gibbs saw recognition on Ziva's face at the name.
"Svetlana who?" Tony asked.
"Novikova." Ziva replied. "She's the head of the Novikov drug syndicate. They are the largest of the Russian crime families."
"Ok, so why is she after Gibbs?" Tony asked.
"I don't know, DiNozzo, maybe because I killed her father."
Tony opened his mouth to reply, but was prevented by an elbow in the ribs from Ziva. She pointed to the plasma screen. "Look."
The darkened screen had come to life. On the screen was a video feed; they could see Abby, slumped to the ground, apparently unconscious; McGee, chained to a wall, head bowed and bloody; and Ducky, huddled in a corner.
Tony turned from his horrified contemplation of the screen to see Gibbs inexplicably grinning.
"They just made their first mistake."
"Boss?"
"Get Palmer and someone from Cybercrimes up here."
Tony nodded.
"On it, Boss."
...
This wasn't working.
Despite his attempts to give them the information they wanted, they were still beating Abby. Savagely. Even on the dinky screen in the corner, even with his blurry vision, he could see the bleeding crisscross marks left by the chains on her usually alabaster skin.
And now they were going to start in on Ducky, too. This was his family, damn it! They didn't deserve this. He had to help them. Somehow.
He hung motionless for a long time, thinking. The only way he could help Abby and Ducky was if he could get free. But how? He was chained to the wall, same as he had been for... however long he'd been there. For the first time he looked up, studying the chains that held him to the wall. While the chains were sturdy, the cuffs around his wrists looked identical to the handcuffs they, and every law enforcement officer in the United States, carried as part of their standard equipment. Not only that, they weren't done up all that tightly- probably they hadn't thought it was necessary as his hands were bound over his head. Maybe, just maybe, he could get his hands free.
McGee grimaced at that. To get his hands free, he would have to transfer all his weight to one side, to reduce the drag on the side he was working on. Which meant, at some point he was going to have to effectively hang by his broken wrist. He wasn't sure if he could do it... if anything, his wrist had weakened further since it had been broken.
But he had to try.