Tony scuffed his feet on the floorboard, smirking as he marred the shine on his ferragamo shoes. He was bored. Beyond bored and he didn't even have his cell phone to play Tetris while he was waiting.

Being in the boatshed he could hear the waves beneath him and the sounds of people moving, feeling the floorboards move as they moved about.

He listened, waiting to hear his Father's voice. He knew it wouldn't be long before they brought him in, in which case his father would call his lawyer and they would both be out on a technicality. Or his Father had escaped, in which case he would call his lawyer and he'd be out on a technicality. Either way The Calling had a good lawyer and Father's was the best.

After all The Calling wasn't a terrorist group, they were freedom fighters. A force for good. As soon as the others found this out he would be freed and possibly hailed a hero. Either way, he knew that Father would be the new head of The Calling, with him as the second The Calling would be a new power in America. Child services would send children to Calling members to be raised in safety and crime would be reduced as there would be no troubled youths. Each youth would have a Calling in life, a goal to strive for. No child would be abandoned, or unwanted again. He knew what he was doing was right and there was no way he was wrong.

He thought back to how he had been 'found' by Roberto.

He had been four years old. The son of a single woman in Palermo and a 'visiting' American. The woman had raised him for four, horrible, pain filled years. She had been thrown out by her family for the stigma of being a single mother. She had loved him for a while, until the money sent to her from his father ran out. She would scream at him for hours telling him how his father had gone back to America to marry a nice woman and how he called her a whore. She would snap at him that he had ruined her life, that he had made her a whore and now she had to go and earn money like one. That one day she would go to America and give him to his father.

He had clung to that hope like a well loved teddy bear. Hoping that his father would love him more than his mother.

Then one night, his mother went out and didn't come home.

He never knew what had happened to her. He didn't know that she had been stabbed and bled to death in the same alley that 'Father' had found him in two weeks later, when he had run away as men had cleaned out the furniture in his home. He had gone in fear looking for her, but had found nothing but terror on the streets. Old men wanting him to come closer so they could get a good look at him.

The child ran from the clawing hands and ended up huddled in a small alley, shivering and scared.

The child watched from his vantage point as holiday makers walked by, not noticing the child, then a large car pulled up, the door opened and a young man stepped out dressed in the best clothes Marco had ever seen. Marco wondered if he was a king.

"Marco?" The man's voice sounded worried.

No one had ever sounded worried about him before.

"Marco Marsino? Are you there."

There was a small noise and the young man looked to see two large green eyes staring at him. His information had been right, this child might be just what he was looking for. "Marco?"

The small boy looked up at him, "S... Sir?"

The man smiled, "I was told you were here. You are too small to be alone." He said.

Marco stood up and looked annoyed, "No Sir, I'm this many." He said holding his hand up and showing four fingers, "Mama says I'm a man."

Roberto chuckled. "I am sure you are, my apologies, young sir." He mock bowed and admired the grit the child possessed. "I have been sent to look after you, to keep you safe."

"Is my mama with you?" He asked.

Roberto shook his head, "Your mother is with the Angels. But she asked me to take you in." He lied. Well, not exactly lied. After all, when he had stabbed the child's mother, she had asked who would take care of her child now, as she had died. He'd realized that this boy might help him advance in The Calling. After all, to be a 'Father' you had to have children under your command. If he could just work with hand picked children, raise the best of the best….

"Come along, son." He said, holding out his hand.

"Who are you?" Marco had asked.

Roberto smiled, "You may call me, Father."

Over forty years later, Marco recalled his meeting with his father with fondness. He had taken him from terror and raised him in safety, teaching him all the skills he needed for life. Taking a terrified child from the streets to his, in his four year old opinion, Palace. In actual fact, it was a villa near the sea. Roberto had fed, clothed and nursed the child back to full health. Employed a mother, Elizabeth to teach him the basic's of The Calling philosophy, plus all the other basics, like academics and how to act in society. Roberto doted on the child, he knew that one day this child would go far. Roberto took him all over the world, teaching him about different cultures and finding more children to send back to Elizabeth to join the ranks, but Marco, with his bright green eyes and winning smile was his first. His protege.

And Marco in return loved his 'father' with all his being, not even now, sitting in the boatshed after all that had happened, did he regret doing anything to help him. He knew that soon his father would be here.

Marco looked up as Gibbs walked in the door with Hetty with him.

Gibbs pulled out the chair as Hetty walked across the room and slapped Marco's feet off the table, then continued to the chair and sat down.

"Mr. DiNozzo… Or would you prefer Marco Marsino?" She asked.

Marco shrugged, "A name is a name, doesn't mean anything."

Hetty smiled slightly. "I know a few people who wouldn't agree with you."

"The kid wouldn't accept the name he was given, not my fault." Marco looked at the slats on the window behind her. "Is he watching? Does he know how he's broke his father's heart?"

In the other room Callen stepped away from the monitor as Anna put her hand on his arm.

"Not everyone is picked to be their Father's protege, I was, Callen was… I picked him, I saw in him what my Father saw in me. He could have had everything, he threw it away." Marco's voice came from the monitor.

"This is not about Mr. Callen, this is about you." Hetty said, pulling Marco's focus back into the room.

"I will not betray my father or my family." Marco vowed.

"You are, I assume referring to Mr. Di Antonio?" Hetty asked.

"He is my father." Marco snapped.

Hetty shook her head, "Your father was a senator. He was stationed in Italy when he had a liaison with your mother. He is currently in prison for murder, it is ironic that you arrested him, well, your team did. Senator Patrick Kelly. DNA is a match." Hetty told him.

Marco shook his head, "He is not my father. My father is Anthony DiNozzo Senior." He replied out of habit.

"The man masquerading as Anthony DiNozzo Senior, Roberto Di Antonio is not genetically related to you in any way."

Marco sighed, some part of him had always hoped, but it was what it was and he wasn't going to let them play him.

"You talk to him, he'll tell you, then his lawyers will get us out and crucify you old woman."

"I am afraid that is quite impossible." Hetty said sadly. "I cannot talk to Mr. Di Antonio as he passed away this afternoon."

"You murdered him?" Marco snapped changing his focus and looking intently at Gibbs.

Gibbs shook his head, "I'm sorry, it was a heart attack."

"LIAR!" Marco screamed. "You're covering, Callen killed him didn't he! I'm gonna make him pay!" He didn't care now, tears rolled unchecked down his cheeks. "You killed my father Callen… You have nowhere you can hide."