"Dammit!"

The chair flew across the room, breaking apart once it hit the wall. The display of their senior agent's unprecedented, reckless anger, was disconcerting and shocking. Tony and Ziva were motionless, looking at the broken chair, then Gibbs; his fists clenched at his sides and his chest heaving.

"Uh...you're compromising the crime scene boss."

Tony swore he could hear a low growl grow deep within Gibbs' chest as he watched him wipe a shaky hand over his face with an exasperated sigh, turning to fix a hard, cold stare at him. "If I ever see McCadden again, I swear I'll kill him!" Gibbs seethed in a loud whisper. "And you...do you even care, Tony?" Gibbs' voice cracked, asking him with his hands open wide, a sincere gesture of confusion. Gibbs' eyes searched his for the truth he so desperately wanted to confirm and unmask. They had all notably broke down in their own way, since McGee's disappearance; Ziva crying and now himself, showing his rage.

Tony had to look away from Gibbs' accusation that twisted his gut. He took a deep breath then slowly turned to face him. "Do I even have to justify that with a denial?" the defensive tone in his voice, dying as soon as he peered into Gibbs' eyes. Tony's face reddened, knowing it did not sound confident and strong, but weak and guilty. "Come on! I didn't know McCadden was going to pull something as assinine as that. It backfired-"
"Ya think?" Gibbs bellowed. He shook his head as he sucked in air through clenched teeth. He kneeled over the broken chair, studying it with latex gloves that he pulled from his pocket. "Guess, it's back to the ol' drawing board." He mumbled to himself. "Blood on the chair...no doubt McGee's." Gibbs scanned the room, eager to find ...anything that would be conducive in bringing his young agent home. He blankly stared at a far wall, deep in thought.

"What is it boss?"
"We have his badge... found at the first crime scene. These guys are young and sloppy, making me wonder why we still haven't got Tim back yet. If we could find his cell..."
Gibbs walked off to methodically search the empty house.

Tony sighed, his eyes busily darting around the room, "I'm really starting to get worried-"
"Starting?" Ziva rolled her eyes then turned away, trying to control the tears flooding her vision. She waited till she gained control of the tightness in her throat then turned to address him. "I'm not sure how you feel about this, but that does not concern me right now. He...is alive Tony, so don't even hint that he's not!" Tony tried to interrupt her but she ignored him and continued to rant. He realized she needed to hear her own words of hope right now, so he let her continue. "Yes, I am worried, too, but we have to keep our heads on straight in order to find him... alive. You have to be strong for Gibbs, he is obviously having a tough time with this." Tony was silent but his expression, sad and apologetic. "Now look for evidence...I know we will find something here that will help us. These kidnappers are unprofessional and careless." Tony nodded then began to closely search the room, starting on the side, farthest from Ziva.

Ziva believed Tim's rescue would be soon; she felt it deep within her heart. She could not accept the thought of anything else. She brought her attention to the area the chair had sat just before Gibbs had picked it up and thrown it. When she spotted it, the threat of tears returned, instantly, brimming her eyes. It was a simple item but something he had never taken off since she had given it to him...until now. A small token of her gratitude that she had offered to him after he had joined forces with Tony and Gibbs when they had rescued her from Somalia.

She lifted it to her lips, but stopped immediately, just before she was about to softly kiss it, not wanting to contaminate the evidence. A tear fell down her cheek. She realized the leather cord, that she believed was Tim's, was sticky with blood, as he had probably tried to free himself along with the blood from other possible injuries. She cleared her throat, "Um, this is Tim's, I ,uh..recognize it," she announced to no one in particular. She looked closely at the stained floor, frowning; seeing the drops of blood, still wet. "What did they do to you?" She whispered, staring at the floor in disbelief.

Tony walked around the room, reluctantly picturing Tim confined here, tied to a chair, beaten while frantically struggling to free his hands to escape. He imagined his green, gentle eyes, desperate, as he kept his calm, sweet and strong-willed demeanor, meanwhile cleverly thinking of ways to make their mission easier in finding him, leaving the band from Ziva, for one. He knew Tim had a good fight in him, one that he would sometimes try to provoke with taunting and teasing, but to no avail, impressed with his self control. The evidence of the struggle with his bonds was a good indicator that he was using that strength now.

He stepped, slowly, looking at anything that seemed out of the ordinary. When he came upon a small, plastic chair in a corner of the room, he picked up the magazine that lay on its seat. He carefully leafed through the pages while taking glimpses of the images of women posing in bikinis, or posing in underwear and any other image of a woman.

He stopped when he noticed scribbling... it was tough to read; scratched in a pen with weak ink. "moveing to the comander" Hmmm, bad speller,Tony thought. He silently mouthed the words written, his expression, serious and focused as he stared out the window across the room. Taking a few quick steps, his attention was drawn to something he could not distinctly make out. He stiffened, when he realized he was looking at a body, laying still, in the backyard.

"A body! Outside!" he ran by Ziva, leaving the room, feeling his chest constrict, his breathing become shallow. He did not want to confirm his assumption.

"Wait,Tony!" Ziva looked at him puzzled, then ran to the window to confirm his statement. Gibbs came running into the room making eye contact with Ziva, then they both exited the room, not far behind Tony. Ziva would not even consider what the three of them were thinking. The distance to the body seemed miles away instead of the small distance to the backyard. She slowed her pace, Gibbs nearing the door as she supported herself by placing her hands on the walls towards the door. Gibbs turned to urge her on.

Tony hoped he was just unconscious, hurt and in need of medical assistance. "Tim! Answer me!" He rounded the house, stopping. It looked like Tim, tall, blonde; sprawled out on his stomach. Tony felt a sting behind his eyes as his legs became incredibly weak, an overwhelming urge to drop to the ground and curl into a ball. He ran his hand through his hair, his face tight with worry,then bent down regaining his breath. He continued forward, slowly stepping as if the path were filled with land mines. Reaching the body, he dropped to his knees.