Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend huge thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted or faved this story. I appreciate your support and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Just to clarify, in this story Jimmy takes on the role of narrator and is written in 1st person while everyone else is written in 3rd person pov.

This chapter contains a lot of flashbacks, some within flashbacks so I do hope that you can follow along with the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

We are still in the grip of horrific bush fires in Oz and if any of you have any pull with the weather gods we'd really appreciate any and all prays for rain. Our volunteer and professional firefighters are doing an outstanding job but unless we get some rain, we're facing even more devastation. Temperatures are rising and winds are picking up and three of the worst fires are threatening to join forces creating a fire of over 300 kms in length. If that happens all bets are off and the result could be catastrophic.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind

Chapter 5

Jimmy Palmer:

I dragged myself out of the car as the sun was heading above the horizon. It had been a hellacious double shift in the ER. It started with a multiple MVA on the motorway and got progressively worse from there. I spent the final hours of my night dealing with a bunch of ravers who had taken some god knows what new designer cocktail drug that made E look tame by comparison. Anyway, whatever the Hell it was, it was a particularly bad-assed batch and all the DC hospitals had been left to pick up the pieces, including ours. I was so exhausted that I knew I would never be able to sleep and I figured that I should probably head out to a yoga class to try to de-stress before I hit the sack to try and sleep. I had another double shift in 24 hours and I needed to catch on more than my usual cat naps.

Of course, it wasn't just the job that was making me feel stretched tight as a drum. In the last few years since Tony had taken off to stay one step ahead Eli David and his obsessive revenge for Ziva's death, even though she was the one who had tried to kill my friend, he had stayed in contact with me. Granted it was the most tenuous of connections still, it had heartened his friends to know that at the very least he was still alive. So, okay, a blank postcard arriving at random intervals suggesting he was crisscrossing the country had to be the weakest of links, since there was no indication who it was from or what he was doing. Even though there was no proof that the cards were being sent by Tony, I just knew that it was Tony's way to let me (well, his friends) know that he was still alive. I knew Tony well enough to know that he would think that contacting the NCIS team or Abby or Ducky would be just too risky, but there were few people who knew just how close we'd become before the Rivkin mess happened.

Still, he was obviously playing super cautious by not even writing on them and as far as I could determine, they never seemed to arrive in any sequential order unless he was bouncing around like a demented grasshopper or had his own personal airplane, which seemed highly unlikely. The last one had been about the World Free Fall Competition held for 10 days in August in Illinios, but I received it in February, so not really a clue there, but I was amused to discover that many of the jumpers chose to do so in the buff. Trust DiNozzo! But while I generally received a postcard at least once a fortnight, it had been six weeks since I'd found a card in the mail and I was beyond antsy and rapidly approaching panicked. And it wasn't just me that was on tenterhook either. Dr. Mallard, Abby, Agent Fornell and McGee were all as worried as I was.

Actually, not true! Abby and McGee were both pissed off and worried because as diligently as they searched for him digitally, trying to track him down, neither of them had managed to score even a hit in nearly 30 months. No one was absolutely sure that it was Tony who was sending me the blank postcards, but everyone was convinced that it was his way of making sure that we didn't worry about him, although it didn't work. How could you not worry about someone like Tony who didn't seem to have a self-preservation gene? Sure, he'd been accustomed to looking out for himself since he was a kid, but he also lived to look after others, and I worried that if he didn't have that as a raison d'être, he would become even more blasé about his own welfare.

I knew that Ducky was beside himself, too, with worry about Tony. Having no word from him for six weeks had the elderly ME desperate, and I know that he constantly second guessed his actions that night that Tony had rung him after he had shot the masked intruder. Of course, many people wondered at the time why Agent Gibbs' loyal Saint Bernard had called Dr. Mallard instead of his superior. Having heard Tony spill his guts to us in Autopsy about his disillusionment about what had gone down in Tel Aviv, I have to admit I wasn't one of those who was surprised that Tony instinctively turned to Ducky. Even though he had been shot and he had made a real dog's breakfast of his shoulder and ended up with a compound fracture of his radius, he'd managed to crawl over and disarm the assassin before he removed the ski mask and discovered the identity of the killer.

I know that any qualms Ducky might have felt about drugging Tony to get the truth out of him about how he had come back from Israel with even more injuries than when he left, dissipated when he got a phone call from a broken senior field agent after he shot his own partner in self-defence. And though he copped the ire of both the director and Gibbs in calling in the FBI and Special Agent Fornell, the subsequent fallout from the investigation vindicated that decision. Fornell made sure that Tony wasn't railroaded for merely defending himself, even if his would be killer was the daughter of the Mossad Director. The problem was that unlike us he wasn't used to dealing with a wounded DiNozzo who routinely tried to escape, so even though his agents had him in protective custody, he apparently had decided that he was a threat to all of us and Fornell and his agents. In typical DiNozzo mode, the idiot decided to sacrifice himself for the good of everyone else by going on the run.

In surrendering control of the investigation to the FBI, we also lost unfettered access to Tony. Although clearly it had been necessary to protect him from the politicking between Mossad, NCIS, SecNav, Eli David and Leon Vance and the I'll wash your back if you wash mine mentality. And as soon as Tony came around from the surgery, he seemed determined to push us all away, but I'm not sure what prompted such a dramatic reaction on his part. With the FBI responsible for his safety, though, it became increasingly difficult to try to talk to him, even though Dr. Mallard and I managed to sneak in on doctors' rounds by calling in professional favours. But he flat out refused to see Abby and McGee and barely talked to Ducky or me either, and Gibbs seemed to have disappeared. The last known sighting of him had been after he came storming out of MTAC after they broke the news of Ziva's death to Director David. According to scuttlebutt, Gibbs had been in a fearsome state, way worse than his usual B for Bastard mode, before stomping off into the sunset. By the time he decided to surface, it was far too late.

Apparently, Agent Gibbs was holed up in his basement getting stinkingly, blind drunk on rotgut otherwise known as bourbon. By the time he in his own vernacular "managed to get his head outta his ass" the damage had been done and there was no going back. Maybe one of us should have gone over there and told him to can the pity party and dried him out and dragged his butt over to the hospital to talk to Tony. But then again, with the way he had been acting, he might have just made things worse, but then who knows how things would have turned out? And now maybe it was too late for any of us to tell him how much he meant to us.

Six weeks was far too long to hear nothing. I was beginning to lose hope and once again I wished that we got a chance of a do over. Woulda…shoulda…coulda. If only…

Flashback:

Special Agent Tobias Fornell, was seething as he headed toward the Naval Yard with a warrant in his pocket to access information into Officer Michael Rivkin's death, and all records pertaining to his activities since he entered the United States. Although that warrant also included records that would allow him to investigate Officer David's conduct and activities, too, and included logs and reports on all relevant NCIS personnel into every aspect of the investigation up to the point when Ziva David was killed in a shootout in Special Agent DiNozzo's apartment. He also had a signed release form from DiNutzo giving him permission to access his own medical file, including the one that was held by his personal physician, Dr. Donald Mallard, Chief Medical Examiner for NCIS.

And it seemed that the inestimable doctor had been a very busy boy. He had marshalled his troops and amassed a file full of forensic evidence detailing DiNutzo's injuries that was truly damning to his agency and superiors. Ducky had somehow also managed to acquire pejorative video evidence of Tony's interrogation at the hands of Director Eli David in Tel Aviv and equally shocking CT footage of Officer Ziva David's assault on her NCIS partner, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, outside Mossad HQ. He wasn't sure exactly how Ducky had managed to get his hands on them, but he assumed that he'd enlisted the considerable skills of Dr. Scuito and Special Agent Timothy McGee, who would have both the skills and motivation to hack into Mossad databases if anyone could.

Then again, Ducky was a wily old bird who had been around the block more than once and had an astonishing array of contacts around the globe. It was entirely conceivable that the ME had his sources within Mossad who had leaked the video evidence to him. Gibbs had obliquely hinted that Ducky may not be the innocuous character that he seemed and Fornell suspected that perhaps at some stage he had been aligned with MI6. Whatever the truth of his suspicions, once the ME had handed over Tony's medical file to the FBI, the reticent agent was now studying it sitting in one of the NCIS conference rooms. Fornell was also studying the video evidence that matched up perfectly with the meticulous evidence of Tony's documented injuries exactly, even down to the first assault between him and Officer Michael Rivkin.

It was both an outstanding job and a damning testament to the butt covering, quid pro quo and politicking that had marred this mess as far back as the ill-fated interagency poker game that resulted in the death of ICE Agent Thomas Sherman. And it wasn't just Ducky's documentation that was first rate either. Thankfully, the ER doctor had had the presence of mind, although no doubt DiNotzo would have encouraged them, to take copious photos of all his injuries and bruises in addition to the radiological and medical records.

He was going to have to buy the good doctor a bottle of single malt when this was all in the bag. Fornell was beyond determined that he was going to make sure that justice was done in this case, because it was doubly personal now, and Ducky had gone a long way to ensure that those who were responsible were going to pay. To that end, Tobias was single-minded in his goal to be all over this lengthy file and everything pertaining to this case before he commenced his interrogations, and he was flying solo at the moment. The problem was, though, that he was constantly getting interrupted by DiNutzo's colleagues, coming in to express their solidarity and support and wanting to know how he was doing.

Right now, the FBI agent was keeping his cards closed to his vest, like Tony. He was unwilling to reveal any unnecessary information since he didn't know who he could trust. And while Tony was sounding extremely paranoid, he could hardly blame him under the circumstances; after all, when your own partner tries to kill you and you've been told by your director that you need to suck it up and take one for the team, who could blame you? Sadly, subsequent events have shown that Tony had good reason to be paranoid.

Deciding to pack it in and take all the evidence he'd collected back to the Hoover building where he might get some privacy, he packed it all into a file box and was about to head off when Abby and McGee knocked and entered the conference room. Both of them looked extremely sleep deprived and shell-shocked. Abby's eyes were red rimmed and she'd obviously been crying. Unsurprisingly, they both wanted to know where Tony was and why he wasn't taking their calls.

"Tony is in protective custody," he explained. Although for how long he remains is anyone's guess. He'd already tried to leave once and Fornell had managed to convince him to stay, for now, but he wasn't sanguine that he could continue to persuade the stubborn and broken agent to remain in the safe house they had set up. Tony had already insisted that he take a bedside video statement before they left the hospital today, in case anything happened to him. He'd agreed to stay on proviso that Fornell retrieve and allow him to keep one of the numerous guns that were registered in his name. In his shoes, Fornell would want to be armed so he could protect himself, too, and after this morning, he wasn't going to refuse DiNutzo any reasonable request.

Abby looked at McGee, confused. "Why? OHMYGOD, do you think he's still in danger?" She asked. "But from whom?"

McGee narrowed his eyes then as comprehension hit. "You think Mossad or Ziva's father will try to kill him, don't you?" He asked.

"Yeah, kid, I do." Not gonna tell them they tried once already.

Abby looked furious. "All the more reason he needs to be with us right now, not strangers. Please, can't we see him, Toby?"

He let the hated contraction of his name go, realising that the pair was distressed. "Look, Abby, I'm not keeping him from making contact, believe me. Much as I agree with you that this is a time when he needs his friends standing by him, supporting him, he's scared that one of you will get caught in the crossfire. He refuses to take that risk, I'm afraid, and there's no changing his mind. I'll pass on any messages you want me to give him, though."

McGee looked obdurate. "I'm a seasoned federal agent. I can take care of myself and help to watch his six. He's my partner. Tell him thanks, but to stop being an ass. I want to help guard him."

Fornell shook his head. "I'll tell him, McGee, but don't expect him to change his mind. He was pretty adamant." The FBI agent remembered how difficult it had been to persuade Tony to go to the safe house. The guy was stubborn and self-sacrificing, that was for damned sure, and too damned brave for his own good. He had to be worried, not to mention in pain, but most of all he was crippled with guilt, and Fornell was really concerned about the brash young agent.

Fornell's Flashback:

After Jethro has taken off back to the Navy Yard for a clean-up detail with Leon Vance, he'd wandered out to get some air and a ubiquitous cup of coffee only to receive a summons from the nurses' desk to say that Special Agent DiNozzo had regained consciousness. Expecting him to be disorientated, he found instead that the stubborn agent was surprisingly lucid and attempting to get out of bed and get dressed, despite the proliferation of surgical steel holding his left arm and shoulder together.

Fornell scowled at the NCIS agent. "What the Hell are ya doing, DiNuzto?"

Tony looked at Fornell angrily. "It's not safe for me to be here, Fornell; I need to leave, NOW. Mossad are going to come after me and I don't want any innocent people getting in the way."

Fornell could understand him being mistrustful all things considered, but the docs had been pretty clear that he needed to be here under medical care. "Look, DiNutzo, I know you feel exposed, and not because of the backless gown," he joked. "Would be questioning your mental health if ya weren't a bit antsy, but you need to get back into bed before you fall down. I've got ya back, kid." He noticed a strange expression on the senior field agent's face when he said those words that should have reassured him, but it just seemed to make him even more agitated.

Snorting, he grimaced. "Excuse me, Fornell, if that doesn't make me feel better. It's kind of what got me into this mess in the first place."

Walking the agent back to the bed and assisting him back into it, he distracted him from the action by asking, "How 'bout you tell me what happened, DiNotzo?"

And so he had, from the time the FBI agent had left the NCIS bullpen after Tony had expressed his disbelief to Gibbs and Fornell when the death of Abin Tabil had been ruled a suicide and declared closed by Director Vance. Tony had been openly incredulous, claiming it was way too neat. Obviously, his suspicious had been right, and a few hours later he'd been fighting for his life against the Kidon assassin, Michael Rivkin. Fornell listened, mostly in silence, as Tony outlined the events that unfolded after his abortive attempt to arrest Rivkin when he found him at Ziva David's apartment, including Mossad's clumsy attempt to destroy any evidence by faking a gas leak and blowing up her apartment and Leon Vance's impetuous decision to drag Tony to Tel Aviv. As he listened, he asked a few questions and his expression darkened as the account continued. He'd heard much of this already from Ducky, but hearing it straight from the horse's mouth was utterly damning!

One pertinent question occurred to him. Did Gibbs make sure Tony was cleared for a long haul trip before he let Vance drag him on a god-uncomfortable 12-hour flight on a C-130 each way? As far as Fornell knew, commercial airlines had a 48-hour exclusion rule about people with broken bones flying. He needed to find out why that was.

He also needed to find out why when Vance had essentially told Tony he was expendable, Gibbs didn't appear to have protested or why he let Tony be separated off from them when they landed. Anything could have happened to him on the drive to Mossad headquarters and they wouldn't have been in a position to come to his aid, because they wouldn't have a freakin' clue what was going on. If the shoe was on the other foot, Tobias was damned sure that Mossad wouldn't have turned one of their own over to them like that. Mossad wouldn't sacrifice one of their own to brown nose with Leon Freakin' Vance.

And why didn't Tony's superiors protest about using torture during the interrogation, because let's face it; it's not as if either of them wouldn't have anticipated it. DiNutzo clearly had and had tried and succeeded in diverting him, but he shouldn't have had to fight the battle on his own. Gibbs and Vance should have had his back, and even though he was sure that Gibbs would have been confident that Tony could hold his own, was his old friend even aware of how many injuries his SFA was carrying from the beating that Rivkin gave him? Did he even bother to read the ER report or DiNotzo's report of the fight? Because if he had, he would have known that Tony should have still been in hospital under observation, not being tortured by that bastard for just trying to do his job and protect his partner. He was damned lucky to have survived an out-of-control raging alcoholic trained assassin – a highly dangerous combination, and Eli was damned fortunate that he hadn't gone off on a helpless citizen instead of Tony.

But still, he was furious that Tony had an undiagnosed hairline fracture of his clavicle that the ER doc hadn't picked up on viewing the radiological films when DiNutzo had presented. By the time the radiologist reviewed the films the next day and determined that he had fractured his collarbone, they had been unable to contact him because he was riding a C130 on a 12-hour flight to Israel with one dead assassin and one still breathing that wanted his balls on a platter. Fornell could only imagine how much pain he would have experienced when Eli David grabbed him on the collarbones and squeezed as he dug into the muscles with his fingers into the bone and then later on when he'd grabbed him around the throat, given the bruising to his trachea and oesophagus after Rivkin had choked the shit out of him. He was looking forward to asking some very pertinent and pointed questions of Tony's superiors during the course of his investigation. Ducky had thankfully dropped the dime on his agency's failures when he'd made sure that Fornell was called in to head the investigation and insure that Tony received justice instead of being shafted by NCIS.

But right now, he needed to know what had happened when Ziva had attempted to kill him and make it look like a home invasion gone bad. Not that this was a formal statement. He would organise to take that later, but he needed a sitrep on what had happened.

End of Fornell's Flashback

When Fornell arrived back at his office, there was a message that the Director wanted to see him. When he reported to Director Barry Hutchins' office, he found he wasn't alone. Special Agent Lina Reyes was getting a briefing and he beckoned Tobias in and told him to close the door and park his ass. After enquiring if Fornell had collected all the evidence they had requested in the warrant, he nodded, pleased.

"Good, that's a relief. I don't have to tell you that this case is a nightmare waiting to happen. I'm going to tell you that it has Capitol Hill extremely nervous. We need to be absolutely scrupulous in following procedure on this one, Tobias, and while everyone is in agreement that you should head up the case, given your familiarity with all the players and the credence you've built up with NCIS over the years, we have to not only do things by the book, but we have to be seen as doing everything by the book. One hundred per cent transparency, no questions left unasked or unanswered, and everyone made to account for their actions. If they scratched their butts I want it documented and their rationale explained in full. Hell, I expect you to damned well swab their fingers and find out what bacteria is lurking on their grimy mitts. Is that clear, Tobias?"

Fornell could imagine how much shit the case was attracting and he felt sorry for his bosses. This was a no-win situation for everyone. "Yes, Sir, crystal clear. Everything done by the book and in triplicate. Don't worry, I want justice, too. Special Agent DiNutzo may not be FBI, but he is a federal agent and he deserves so much more than he got and well, Special Agent Sacks was one of us. He might have made a damned rookie mistake, but he paid the ultimate price for his bone-headedness and I want justice for both of them. Otherwise, why would any fed ever decide to get out of bed and come into work every day instead of just hand in their badges? As far as I can judge, there is a Hell of a lot of feds over at the Navy Yard wondering who has their back anymore."

Director Hutchins grimaced. "Yeah, well, can't exactly blame them, Tobias. I'd be looking at my options, too, if I was them. And you have my condolences about Ron, for what it's worth. He was a solid, honest agent and I know you two worked together for a long time. That's why we have to do it right and make sure that anyone who contributed to this catastrophe is held to account. And since you have personal ties with Special Agent Gibbs, and in the spirit of transparency, Special Agent Reyes is going to assist with the investigation." He smiled at the female agent. "I understand that you and Special Agent Gibbs are already acquainted, Lina? And that it would be fair to say that you two didn't see eye to eye?"

She snorted derisively. "The man threatened my investigation, Sir. He is arrogant, stubborn and a bastard so, yes, I think it would be fair to say that we didn't exactly hit it off."

Hutchins smirked. "Good, then I want you to take point when you question Special Agent Gibbs and Director Vance and take their statements. And the Secretary of Defence and Attorney General also want to know if SecNav and Director Vance knew that Rivkin killed ICE Agent Sherman. That means that Secretary Davenport will need to be interviewed, too. Work with Reyes, Tobias, so she's up to speed. And how are we placed on the protection detail with Special Agent DiNozzo?" He enquired. "ICE wants in on the detail since if it weren't for Special Agent DiNozzo, Agent Sherman's killer wouldn't have been apprehended. I understand that Julia Foster-Yates has volunteered to plan and oversee the protection operation."

Fornell looked harried. "We have problems, Sir. DiNutzo doesn't want it. I had managed to talk him around, I think. Then Sacks blundered and now he's saying that he doesn't want our help."

Director Hutchins glared at him. "Surely, he appreciates his life is in imminent danger?"

"Yes, Sir, he understands, but he doesn't want to endanger anyone else. He's convinced that Mossad or more specifically, Eli David, won't rest until Officers David and Rivkin are avenged, but he says he's damned if he'll let anyone else die in his place. The man is notoriously self-sacrificing, will take a bullet for his team mates or a stranger, but he's got serious issues of self-worth, Sir. Afraid Director Vance telling him that he needed to take one for the team when he dragged him off to Israel to face Eli David played right into all his insecurities, damn the man! He convinced him that he was expendable, so I guess it's not surprising that he doesn't want to anyone else to die. He and Sacks didn't get along, but he was devastated over his death; he's blaming himself!"

The three Fibbies were all silent as they considered the events leading up to Ron Sacks' tragic death. Ironically, his presence on protection detail in Bethesda hadn't afforded him a lucky break, even though he was given immediate medical treatment. Whoever was after DiNozzo was playing for keeps!

Flashback:

After Tony had finished reporting what had gone down in the shooting in his bedroom at 0330 this morning, he'd collapsed back into the hospital bed, spent physically and emotionally. Fornell was at a loss to know what to say to the wounded man. He cursed the fact that DiNotzo was such a loyal SOB, even when people didn't deserve it, because if he'd had a modicum of self-preservation, he would have jumped ship from the MCRT years ago and accepted his offer to join the FBI. In terms of career advancement, he would have been much better off since he was such a talented agent, but more importantly, his emotional and psychological well-being would have been better served in not being NCIS's whipping boy. That whole disgrace with La Grenouille should have never happened, and he couldn't believe that another Director was using him and hanging him out to dry. It was time for Tony to stop being treated as everybody's scapegoat and lackey, god-damn it!

Broaching the subject of his protection detail, Fornell wanted Tony to know that the FBI had his back and that the fallout for this mess was reverberating all the way up to the Hill. The Justice Department, State Department and Department of Defence were all adamant that protecting Anthony DiNozzo from any reprisals from the Israelis or Mossad was paramount, as any successful assassination attempts could only further damage the relationship, perhaps irrevocably in a way that terrorists hadn't been able to. Yet, when he'd explained that they were setting up a safe house for him even as they spoke, he became extremely agitated and distressed, and the medicos insisted on sedating him for his own well-being.

The next time that DiNotzo had swum his way back to consciousness, Fornell was informed, and he'd rushed back to try and reason with the stubborn NCIS agent who was attempting to sign himself out of hospital against medical advice. And despite the fact that he'd talked to him til he was blue in the face, pleading for him to reconsider and let them protect him, he'd been determined. Finally, he'd pulled out the big guns that he'd held back until now.

"DiNotzo, I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave. I'm under orders from your boss and mine to place you under protective custody. SecDef is ordering you to surrender yourself into protective custody, Tony." He gave the younger man a sympathetic look, wishing he hadn't had to wield the big stick. He always preferred the carrot approach himself.

Tony just shook his head, stubbornly. "Don't care, Fornell! Not my boss anymore." He waved a white envelope at the FBI agent. "Do me a favour and give that to Vance for me when you see him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some release forms to sign."

Fornell took the paperwork out of his hand. "What the Hell is this, Tony? Damn it, what did you do?"

Tony shrugged, "That, my friend, is my resignation. Gibbs can't tell me what to do, Vance can't order me to Israel and serve me up on platter to his good buddy, Eli David, SecNav can't offer me up as a sacrificial lamb to the slaughter to keep Mossad happy, and SecDef can't force me into protective custody and put anyone that tries to protect me in danger. Don't you see, Fornell? Mossad is like the Pinkerton Agency – they always get their man. And if you or anyone else gets in the way, then they'll just kill you, too. That's why I have to leave, to keep everyone safe. I can't have any more deaths on my conscience."

Fornell felt fury at Eli and Ziva David, and their hidden agendas and mind games. He also wondered at his old friend and how he could have screwed up so bad that his famous gut had steered him into trusting Ziva David so easily. How had he been fooled into forgetting all her deceit and lies, and where the Hell was he now, and why wasn't he here trying to mend the damage he'd caused by worrying about Ziva and forgetting the man that had his six for eight years and would take a bullet for him. And as for Leon Vance, Fornell didn't trust the bastard as far as he could throw him. His relationship with Eli David was getting in the way of him doing his damned job and looking out for his agents. If he was such a damned fan of Mossad and Eli Machiavelli David, perhaps he should think of immigrating to Israel. It was cold comfort that Ziva deciding to kill Tony had probably queered his political aspirations. Rumours had abounded that the director coveted the SecNav chair as a stepping stone all the way to the Oval Office, but he wouldn't even be eligible for a dinner invitation after this fiasco, and Tobias couldn't be happier.

And he really appreciated how desperate Tony was to not get anyone else hurt if… when Eli David came after him, because the man was incapable of not seeking revenge, even if Tony was the wronged party here. Still, Tobias and the other FBI agents were all willing stop a bullet for him if that's what it took, just like he would do for them if the shoe was on the other foot. Apart from the right and the wrong of it all, his big boss, the Secretary of the Justice Department, had directed that Tony was to be kept safe whatever it took. He hoped to convince Tony to co-operate without having to pull out the big guns and detain him in protective custody as a witness.

Of course, his dick of a 2IC wasn't exactly helping matters, either. Every time he entered DiNotzo's hospital room, he came in with his hands over his head saying, "It's a friendly, don't shoot!"

And although Tony was apathetic, Tobias could see the pain in his eyes when Sacks made the hurtful barb. He'd told Ron to knock it off, but he kept it up, seeing that he'd gotten to Tony, who didn't even try and come back at him verbally. Finally, when he'd come in to report that Director Hutchins wanted to talk to Fornell, he'd left him to watch the injured man with orders to keep his mouth zipped. When he'd returned to find Sacks had disobeyed his edict to zip it, taunting the beleaguered agent, he'd been furious. Ordering him out of the room, he'd ripped into him. Damn the man for not being a professional. Such a cold bastard to take advantage of Tony who was injured and broken, and he wondered if Ron had even a tenth of the fortitude of DiNotzo had proved to have over the years.

Getting up in Sacks' face, he yelled at him, "You are to grow up and treat him with compassion and respect or you'd better act mute, because if I hear one more insult out of your mouth, I'll make sure you don't ever get a job in law enforcement ever again. Do I make myself clear, Sacks?"

After that, he noticed that Ron had studiously avoided entering DiNotzo's room, and as long as he stopped unauthorised visitors entering the room, Fornell didn't care. He knew that Tony didn't get along with his partner, so keeping them apart was wise. He ordered his probie to stay inside the room with Tony while he returned to the office. It seemed that Eli David was throwing his weight around already, and a strategy meeting had been called to deal with it. Telling Bridie Reilly to stay with Tony and talk to him and make sure that Ron didn't harass him, he reluctantly left his team to guard DiNotzo. He might not have Gibbs' infallible gut (although it hadn't been exactly firing when it came to Ziva David), Fornell still had good instincts, and he had a bad feeling about leaving Sacks and DiNotzo together.

Deciding on his way out that he would deliver an additional threat, he told Ron that if he upset Tony he'd make him wish he was dead, before proceeding to head down to the office, hoping it wouldn't take long. As far as he was concerned, they should tell Eli David to go and get screwed, although he knew they never would.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Ron Sacks stood outside the hospital room of Anthony DiNozzo, feeling aggrieved at Fornell, himself and the NCIS agent. Why everyone was acting like the prima donna agent was a good guy was a mystery to him. He was still convinced that he killed Rene Benoit last year and got away with murder, so he saw no reason to spare the egotistical ex-cop's feelings. He didn't understand why Fornell was being so solicitous of DiNozzo, who had now killed two Mossad agents in the last week, and that seemed to be one Hell of a coincidence to him.

Still, as annoying as the sophomoric DiNozzo was, he wasn't about to lose his job over him, so while it was damned fun to bait him, especially since he was so beaten that he wouldn't fight back, he decided to stay away from him. Seeing a candy striper approaching DiNozzo's door with a fruit basket in her arms, he held up his hand, stopping her from entering.

"Sorry, Miss, but you can't go in there. Only authorised personnel are permitted to enter this patient's room and you're not on the list."

The kid looked curious. "Um, okay, well then, can I leave this basket of fruit with you to give to Agent DiNozzo?"

Ron looked at the card and saw that the Human Resources Department from NCIS had sent it to him, and he couldn't help feeling a mixture of jealousy and disgust that they were all pandering to Tony. He seriously doubted that the FBI HR would send him a fruit basket, and when he looked at it he saw it wasn't just your ho-hum average fruit basket. No Diva-DiNozzo warranted a fancy schmancy deluxe fruit basket full of fresh figs, tangerines and grapes as well as the usual apples and bananas.

Swallowing down his personal feelings, he nodded. "Yeah, hand it over and I'll make sure he gets it," He promised her.

Holding the basket as he watched the young volunteer walk away, he considered taking the fruit basket into the room, but decided to wait until Fornell came back and get him to deliver the damned basket. That way he wouldn't be tempted to snark at the pretty-boy agent. Putting it down on the floor outside the door, he felt pissed to be on protection detail. Frankly, this was probie work, not a job for someone with his level of seniority.

Glaring at the damned fruit basket, the figs were just asking to be eaten and he couldn't resist nicking one since he was feeling peckish. Actually, he didn't really want to resist since it amused him to be getting one up on the spoilt idiot. As he grabbed a juicy sweet fig and sunk his teeth into the flesh, he smirked knowing how pissed off DiNozzo would be if he knew, but there were at least five figs, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt the FBI agent. Someday he'd rub it in his face, but for now he'd relish getting one up on the irritating idiot, even if he didn't know. With the mood that Fornell was in, keeping his head down seemed extremely prudent.

The trouble was that after scarfing down the succulent piece of fruit, he couldn't stop at one. There were four fresh figs left and frankly they were still very much a delicacy in the States, even if they did grown them here, too, and they were just the most deliciously addictive fruit. Sacks was embarrassed, but his mouth was watering and he had to agree with who ever had called them fruit of the Gods. Another two figs disappeared in short order and he was about to start on another one when he noticed the nurse at the desk eyeing him disapprovingly, and he decided to remove the damned temptation. Knocking on the door he ordered Bridie Reilly to come and collect the basket since he had no intention of going into the room. Rubbing his eyes, feeling a headache coming on, Sacks glanced at his watch, hoping that he'd make it to the end of shift. Feeling suddenly queasy also, he figured that the nosy nurse had probably done him a favour preventing him from eating anymore of the fruit, since it seemed like he had a migraine coming on and if so, he was going to soon be puking his guts up.

~ An Eye for and Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

When Tony's nurse came in to do his postoperative vital signs, she glanced disapprovingly at the fruit basket. "Glad to see your partner left some of those figs for Special Agent DiNozzo. He should be ashamed of himself," she opined. "Would you like a fig, Tony? I must say it was nice of NCIS to send you such an exotic basket of fruit."

Tony, who had been apathetic and withdrawn, suddenly perked up. "Bridie, who sent the fruit basket?"

The young fibbie looked surprised, but showed him the card that accompanied the fruit and he frowned. Looking at Janet, his nurse, Tony questioned her. "Are you sure that Special Agent Sacks ate the fruit?"

She nodded unconsciously. "Oh yes, Tony, I was sitting at the nurses' desk writing up patient notes. He would probably have eaten the lot, but I gave him the evil eye and he knocked on the door and had you come out and collect it." She suddenly noticed that Tony was removing the IV delivering his intravenous antibiotic and then getting shakily out of his bed. "Tony, what do you think you're doing?"

"Bridie, Janet, we need to get Ron down to the emergency room ASAP and get his stomach pumped." He urged as he managed to cross to the door and yank it open. Sacks was leaning against the wall, sweating and holding his head. Gesturing at Fornell's second in command, "C'mon ladies, he's been poisoned," he proclaimed.

Seeing that neither woman was convinced, he turned to Bridie. "Call Fornell and let me talk to him," he ordered in an authoritative tone that brooked no disobedience, and the probie looked shocked and bemused by the rapid fire change in demeanour, but found herself leaping to obey unquestionably. When Fornell answered she handed the phone to the paranoid agent, noting automatically that he was so focused on Sacks and the phone that he was oblivious to the fact that the hospital gown had left him exposed in the back. Checking him out surreptitiously, she noted that there were numerous contusions and lacerations, but in spite of that, she couldn't help admiring the view.

After convincing Fornell that a fruit basket supposedly sent from NCIS was bogus and the figs in the fruit basket were not typical of your average run of the mill fruit basket, but were a common enough fruit in the Middle East, including Israel, and that Slacks had gobbled down three of the five figs, he agreed with Tony's assessment and ordered his 2IC down to the ER for suspected poisoning symptoms. He also ordered Bridie to stay with Tony and then explained to Tony's nurse that they suspected that the fruit had been poisoned and that Sacks needed to have his stomach pumped ASAP.

Janet had two orderlies manhandle the FBI agent into a wheelchair and raced the worried-looking agent down to ER. Even in the face of overwhelming signs that he had made a rookie error in becoming Tony's unintended food tester, he was still acting like a prize jerk, yelling out to Tony, "Just can't stand that someone else ate some of your fruit, can ya? Thought you'd get back at me by hoaxing a poisoning so they'd pump my stomach, ya bastard!" When Tony didn't react, he turned to the orderlies instead. "What else would you expect from a killer, huh? Even his own partner wanted him dead!"

Tony was beside himself with the certainty that Sacks had been poisoned in his stead. The figs were just too suspicious, and never in all the times that he'd been injured had NCIS ever sent him anything, apart from forms from HR for his doctors to fill out. While many individuals might have sent cards, flowers or even fruit, there was no way in Hell that Director I-have-an-oral-fixation-Vance would ever authorise spending a red cent on him. Slacks was a prize idiot, but that didn't mean that he wanted to see his nemesis in a pine box either. He just hoped they had got to him in time and all he ended up with was a bad case of puking his guts up or the galloping trots. That would have a certain poetic justice to it, but if it was Mossad's intent to poison him, he doubted it would be something so innocuous.

Meanwhile as they waited, Fornell's probie begged him to rest as he paced the room like a wounded tiger. He was too distressed to hide his discomfort, but he couldn't stay still either. Fornell had warned him not to leave the room, reminding him that if he did, he might be putting someone else at risk. As much as he wanted to turn tail and run, Tobias, damn him, knew the only card he could play to make him co-operate was to remind him he was putting other people in danger to protect his ass. And seeing how stressed Bridie Reilly was, he took pity on the kid and didn't attempt any Houdini moves, knowing she'd end up in some field office in Death Valley or Anchorage, Alaska, if he did a runner on her watch. Mind you, if things got nasty, he would have no compunction about locking her in the bathroom and taking her gun. He wasn't going to have her death on his conscience, too. She was just a kid and he wasn't worth it!

Fornell had called up extra agents to guard the door, but ordered them to stay outside, so when there was a knock on the door, Tony stopped mid-stride and they both exchanged a relieved but apprehensive look as Fornell called out his intention to come in and ordered them to unlock the door. Just one look on his face was enough for Tony; the defeated slump to his shoulders, the barely restrained anger. He knew then that he had Sacks' death on his conscience now, too, and wished for the umpteenth time that Ziva had killed him. He knew that he was going to have to ditch Tobias, but it wasn't going to be easy.