Chapter Twenty-Three
Medication Time
It was well past the dinner hour when Gibbs pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition, staring perplexedly at the government-issue, black sedan already parked in his driveway. The windows were typically dark, so he wasn't certain if it was occupied. He wasn't expecting anyone, but anyone who took the initiative to visit him usually arrived unannounced. He ensured his weapon was loaded and cautiously stepped out of his car, his body tense and cautious as he watched for any hint of unexpected movement.
The balmy wind had picked up indicating an approaching summer storm, and the trees surrounding Gibbs yard creaked and swayed, but otherwise there was no sound discernable. No tapping of footsteps or jingle of keys gave away his mystery guest's location. The door to his house remained closed, and there was no light shining through any of the windows into the darkened night sky.
"Stand down, Gibbs. I'm not here to shoot you. If I was, you'd already be dead," a languid voice said.
A familiar, despised voice with a British accent. The sedan's driver-side window slowly rolled down
"My money's on you missing," Gibbs said, still not re-holstering his weapon as he looked at his CIA nemesis, Trent Kort. "What are you doing here, Kort? I'm off the clock."
Kort stepped out of his car, chuckling. "Not to worry – I don't plan on staying long. I'm here to give you a friendly warning," Kort said, leaning against the hood of his vehicle and folding his arms.
Gibbs moved toward the front of his own car and mirrored Kort's pose, his gun still held loosely in his hand.
"Yeah? What's in it for you?" he asked, knowing the spook never did anything that wasn't self-serving.
"Tsk, tsk. Always so suspicious. I suppose that's where DiNozzo gets it," Kort said, grimacing with distaste.
"Nah. If I were DiNozzo, I'd have shot you already. If you're here just to waste my time, I have a steak to cook," Gibbs said, his anger increasing at the mention of Tony's name.
It wasn't that long ago that the CIA agent had planted a bomb beneath his agent's car that easily could've killed him. For a few, devastating hours he never wanted to relive, Gibbs thought it actually had.
"You probably would've," Kort acknowledged with a nod. "Listen, my bosses are getting very nervous. Nervous bosses generally don't bode well for anyone. Your Director and her screwed-up brain are causing waves that are putting several boats in danger."
Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Screwed-up brain?" he asked, knowing where this was headed but wanting to know exactly what Kort knew, or if he was bluffing.
"Don't play coy with me, Gibbs. We're too much alike. I know that you're just as aware of Jennifer Shepherd's tumor as I am. She's still poking around La Grenouille's dealings despite his death. While he's no longer an asset, there are several others under CIA protection that risk exposure if she continues with this vendetta," Kort said lazily.
"So, the CIA is hacking into medical files of American citizens now," Gibbs said.
Kort rolled his eyes. "HIPPA laws can be overridden same as any other; you know that. If she can't be controlled, you're not going to like the alternative – and neither will DiNozzo."
"Spit it out," Gibbs said sharply, the hair on the back of the neck standing on end.
"Rene Benoit's personal effects have all been scrutinized before being handed over to his children. Officially, there's nothing there that risks any sort of exposure to the Agency or its operatives," Kort said, sounding bored.
"But?" Gibbs asked, knowing there was more. He had the distinct feeling Kort was enjoying this too much.
"But… they also concede that properties sometimes have secret hiding places that only a family member might know about. His children are all under electronic surveillance in case Shepherd contacts them, but… there have been several suggestions that everyone might be better off if the risk was simply eliminated," Kort said, shrugging indifferently.
"You mean placing a hit on innocents or another Federal Agent? Thought the CIA only dealt with foreign operatives," Gibbs said, his gut churning.
"Innocent is a relative term. No one can know exactly how much is shared amongst families – and his children all have dual citizenship," Kort said.
"Still American citizens. What's it got to do with DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, taking a threatening step closer.
"Your agent isn't the target – which is why I'm giving you a warning. He is, however, a loose end, as are all three of La Grenouille's children due to your Director's single-minded focus. Shepherd is the threat to DiNozzo through Dr. Benoit. Call her off," Kort said, leaning in to show he was unthreatened by Gibbs' intimidation tactics.
"Why don't you just give Jenny the information she wants?" Gibbs said, snarling.
Kort shook his head, incredulously. "You still don't get it. The information doesn't exist. Benoit offered the bribe through the CIA, and Jasper Shepherd took it. Probably because he was experiencing the same debilitating symptoms as his daughter is now. It all happened well before I became his handler, but it's clearly documented. She's never going to find the answer she wants because it doesn't exist. There are going to be more casualties if she continues, however. The Agency will not allow any details of their assignments to be exposed – nor would NCIS or the FBI if you really want to be honest about it."
While Gibbs agreed they would all cover their behinds, he also felt the CIA went above and beyond necessary precautions, without much concern for civilian casualties.
"And what do you want me to do about it?" he asked.
"Take her out – before we do. If it lands on the CIA, she won't be the only loose end eliminated," Kort said.
"Is that a threat?" Gibbs growled.
"It's a warning."
"Even the CIA isn't allowed to take out Federal Agents carte blanche."
Kort snorted. "A lot of those with pay grades far more substantial than either of ours think NCIS has a few too many rogue cowboys. A reckoning is coming. If you don't want to get swept up in it – get your team under cover for the approaching storm. You can start by neutralizing Shepherd."
"Still sounds like a threat," Gibbs said, snarling.
"Shepherd has already crossed the line. There's no saving her, but you can do something for the white hats who work for you, Gibbs. This will be my only warning," Kort said before taking a step back from Gibbs to re-open his car door. He slithered behind the wheel and put the car in reverse without looking back.
Gibbs said nothing, but he glared as the sedan backed out of the driveway, a tic throbbing in his jaw and his weapon still in his hand.
Kort never turned on his headlights as he drove away.
Gibbs stood motionless in his driveway for a few moments, the wind howling around him as he considered his next step. Finally, he holstered his weapon and moved toward the sanctuary of his house, hitting a button on his speed dial as he did.
"Fornell, I just had a visit from our favorite spook. He's making threats against Director Shepherd. Are you proceeding with a case against her?" Gibbs asked without preamble as soon as the call was answered.
"Nice to hear from you, Gibbs. I was just sitting down to a late dinner. I've already told you that I'm not at liberty to discuss the case against your Director," Fornell said, a hint of concern bleeding into his voice despite his feigned indifference. "What kind of threats?"
"CIA is concerned about exposure. He threatened all the Benoit siblings and DiNozzo, too if I don't take her out," Gibbs said, his hand twitching. He had to get his facts straight before calling Tony, but he wanted to hear the younger man's voice to ensure he was all right. His gut was clenched and giving him warning signals.
"Have you spoken to Shepherd recently?" Fornell asked.
"She was here last week looking for DiNozzo. She's convinced he can lead her to Jeanne Benoit," Gibbs said.
"We finished with our witness statement from the Benoit girl some time ago, but I figured she might come up again in relation to the Shepherd investigation," Fornell said.
"What did you do?" Gibbs asked tersely. He could hear the smugness in Fornell's voice.
"Nothing nefarious. She was concerned about security, so I gave her an anonymous burn phone that only I have the number to – just in case I had to ask her anything else," Fornell replied.
Gibbs shook his head. "And one you can trace," he said knowingly.
"Well, that's just an added but unforeseen benefit," Fornell said innocently.
"I bet," Gibbs said, amused by the cleverness.
"You think she's in danger?" Fornell asked.
"I think she's in danger from both Jenny and the CIA," Gibbs said, glancing over at a sudden pattering against his window. The rain had started.
"Then that would put DiNozzo in danger, as well – they're frequently together when they're not at work. I'm surprised Shepherd is having a difficult time locating her. All she'd have to do is follow DiNozzo," Fornell said.
This was true, and Jenny would've known better than anyone the connection between Tony and Jeanne. She was a better investigator than that. Something clicked in Gibbs mind recalling Jenny being at his house last week. She'd been alone in his living room for quite a while. His mind flashed to her putting her car keys in the coffee mug where he kept his own.
"Gibbs, are you still there?" Fornell asked.
"Hang on a minute," he said shortly.
He moved to his fireplace and picked up the mug, looking closely inside at a few random keys. There was something blue smeared on the inside of the mug. He rubbed his finger over the substance, and it came away in dry, crumbled bits.
Clay molding – the kind that was used to make impressions of keys.
"Son of a bitch," he said, angry that he hadn't spotted it sooner.
"What's that?" Fornell asked, the phone still active in Gibbs' palm.
"Jenny made a copy of the key to DiNozzo's apartment. He told me that he felt as if someone had been inside, but he couldn't find anything out of place. Gotta go, Tobias," Gibbs said, a sense of urgency propelling him.
"I'll meet you there," Fornell said before Gibbs disconnected the call.
/* /* /* /*
Tony's eyes opened suddenly – wide awake with all his senses on alert as his heart thudded, and his mouth went dry. Many years spent doing undercover work had ingrained in him the ability to detect unexpected sounds during the night. He was spooned around Jeanne's naked body, soft and warm pressed against his own. Tony strained his ears into the darkness. He could hear the wind and rain outside against the window, but he instinctively knew there'd been something else.
There!
Once again, he heard the very soft padding of a stealthy footstep. Tony carefully rolled over, untangling his limbs from Jeanne, as he silently reached between his mattress and the box spring where he kept his back-up weapon. His recovering shoulder twinged in disapproval of the angle.
He noiselessly rolled out of bed, crouching low as he swept his hand for a pair of sweat-pants that he knew he'd tossed to the floor. He kept his eyes locked on the bedroom door – there wasn't a more vulnerable feeling in the world than being naked facing an unknown foe. Finding the sweatpants, he pulled them on and stood upright.
Jeanne hadn't moved and remained deep in slumber, curled on her side, her breathing slow and even. Tony reached under his new bed and pulled out a spare Kevlar vest that he always kept on hand in case of emergencies. He gently placed it over Jeanne like a blanket, covering as many of her vitals as he could without waking her and then tip-toed towards his closed bedroom door.
He swallowed dryly and tasted the tangy, metallic sensation of an adrenaline surge. He pressed his ear to the door, and although there was no sound, his keen eyesight caught the agonizingly slow turning of his doorknob. Tony clutched his weapon, pressing himself against the darkness of the wall and aiming his weapon in the general vicinity of where he expected a head to soon appear.
His eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, but the thick, sun-shielding window shade still left the room very black. The door cracked open and began to sweep inward at a snail's pace. Tony held his breath, trying to shrink his tall frame into the shadows. He saw the barrel of the gun before any part of the intruder. Once the gloved hand became visible, Tony raised the arm holding his weapon, and slammed the butt of the gun down on the wrist of the trespasser.
The assailant gasped in pain, dropping the weapon as Tony grabbed the arm and twisted it behind the person's back, spinning her around. He knew it was a woman the second he'd grabbed hold, but years of police work along with working with Ziva had taught him how deadly a woman could be. He shoved her out of the bedroom and back into the hallway, holding her arm tightly against her back, so she cried out in pain.
He pressed her firmly into the wall of the hallway, kicking her weapon well out of reach behind him and flipped on the light. Jenny Shepherd had her enraged face pressed tightly against the wall, the position and her fury distorting her features.
"Stand down, Agent DiNozzo," she snarled.
"Not happening, Ms. Shepherd. You aren't currently on active duty, and in fact are breaking and entering into my fucking home. You don't get to call any shots, here," Tony said, furious.
What he really wanted to do was shoot her, but he couldn't imagine how much paperwork would be involved with that, and he really hated paperwork. Instead, he used both arms to hold her securely in place.
"I said release me. Now. You're hurting me," she said.
Tony had her arms pinned behind her back, but beneath his hand he could already see the bruising beginning where he'd struck her with his gun.
"You'll live, and I'm making the demands here. What do you think you're doing breaking into my apartment in the dead of night? Speaking of that – how the hell did you get in here, anyway?" he asked, looking over at the securely closed door to his apartment.
He shoved her more tightly against the wall, struggling not only to hold her with his injured shoulder but also with keeping a grip on his rage. This was his home.
"Let me go now Tony, or your career is over," Jenny said, struggling to break his hold, as her grip on reality slipped away.
Despite Tony's desire to throttle her, she wasn't in any danger other than some discomfort – and he was more than okay with that. "I'll risk it since I think your career is the one in far greater jeopardy. I haven't called for back-up yet, but your minutes are ticking. What are you doing here?" he asked through gritted teeth. He gave her pinned arms a slight shake.
Her narrowed eyes widened suddenly and a conniving expression came over her features. "I'm only checking on your progress. I can see you've made far more strides than you let on, Agent DiNozzo. Did you get any of the answers I need?" she asked as if they were having this conversation in her office.
"What" he asked, bewildered until he heard the sharp intake of breath behind him.
Keeping hold of the Director, he maneuvered slightly to see Jeanne standing in the bedroom doorway. She'd slipped on his OSU T-shirt, and it hung down to her thighs, a sight that would ordinarily attract a closer look, but his eyes were locked on her own blue ones – eyes that were filled with hurt and dismay.
"Jeanne," he said, heart clenching. "No. It's not what you think."
This couldn't be happening.
"Go ahead, Tony, fill her in. The gig is clearly up. Does she have any of her father's documents?" Jenny asked, her voice dripping with false sincerity.
"Shut up," Tony snarled, slamming the Director more firmly into the wall. "You're not going to manipulate this situation. How did you get into my apartment?"
"With the key you gave me, of course," Jenny said, obviously feeling she was the one in control of the situation.
Jeanne remained motionless, watching them both with wounded eyes. Tony hated seeing her in pain, but he had to deal with the more imminent threat before he could explain everything to her.
"I never gave you any key," Tony roared, mind working furiously. The only other person who had a key to his apartment was Gibbs, and he surely wouldn't have given it to her. A very small shadow of doubt coiled in his stomach, but he forced it down.
"It's in my coat pocket. See for yourself," Jenny said confidently.
Keeping one hand locked around her wrists, he reached his other hand, the one on his injured side into her pocket, his heart plummeting as it wrapped around a single key. In that brief moment of distraction, Jenny twisted violently, trying to pull away from him. Tony's not-yet-healed clavicle throbbed sharply as his fingers went numb. He yelled in pain, but managed to keep his grip on the struggling woman.
Like a wraith, Jeanne moved to his side, using her arms to help him pin Jenny to the wall. Jenny yelled and fought like a woman possessed, and it took all Tony's will to keep hold of her one-armed.
Suddenly, his front door slammed open and Gibbs and Fornell barreled through, dripping wet with weapons drawn like some old western film. It was as if his apartment had become a late-night drive-thru after the clubs were let out.
Tony saw Gibbs' probing, laser-blue eyes assessing the scene. He pulled out his handcuffs as Fornell pulled Jeanne back and took her place holding the Director. Tony's shoulder was burning, and he honestly didn't know how much longer he could hold on.
"Not bad, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he put the cuffs around the Director's wrists.
"I've told you before – I do my best work at night," Tony gasped, trying to grin but not quite managing it.
He'd often told his boss this when he'd first joined NCIS. He stepped back, allowing Gibbs some room and cradling his arm to his chest.
Gibbs grinned in return. "Haven't heard that one in a while, but I'll keep it in mind."
"Jethro, what are you doing? Let me go. I want DiNozzo put on report and fired for insubordination. He attacked me," Jenny said.
"How'd that happen, Jen? You're in his apartment. There'll have to be an investigation," Gibbs replied.
Fornell shook his head. "Typical NCIS, always thinking they've got jurisdiction. Attacking a Federal Agent falls under the FBI's net. I'll be conducting the investigation here."
Tony glanced over at Jeanne, who remained pale and unmoving against the door. He desperately wanted to reach out and take her in his arms, ensuring they were good. The idea that Jenny had managed to poison her mind against him made his heart ache, but she'd still helped him. He wished they could have a moment alone. How had everything gone to hell so quickly?
He gingerly removed the key from Jenny's pocket with his good hand showing it to Gibbs. "She had my key," he said, looking at Gibbs with questioning eyes.
"She made a copy of mine. I found traces of clay molding in the cup where I keep my keys. I was on the phone with Fornell when I discovered it," Gibbs said, staring at Tony intently, as if he expected Tony's dismay and wanted to reassure him.
Tony found he didn't need that reassurance. He knew Gibbs would never sell him out. He nodded, showing his trust and understanding silently.
Gibbs nodded in return. It had always worked that way for them.
"Jethro! I need that proof," Jenny said, seemingly not understanding the position she now found herself in.
"There's no proof to find," Gibbs said, and something in his tone alerted Tony to the fact this was difficult for Gibbs.
He had once been involved with the Director, and Tony knew he cared about her. Add that to the fact that Gibbs could never quite stop himself from wanting to aid a damsel in distress, and this situation had to be almost as difficult on him as it was on Tony.
"Jeanne, we need to talk. You have something I need, and I can give you all the details you want about Tony's assignment," Jenny said.
Jeanne remained unmoving against the bedroom door, pale and expressionless, her hair still tangled from their earlier exertion.
"Jeanne," Tony said, taking a step forward and tentatively reaching for her.
She didn't take his hand, but her cool blue eyes assessed him briefly before turning back toward Jenny. "I don't have anything to say to you. You told me once before that you'd crossed a line when you asked Tony to get involved with me. What exactly do you call this?" she asked coldly.
Tony shut his eyes, spirits plummeting. The pain in his shoulder increased tenfold, but it was dimmed by the pain in his heart.
Gibbs seemed to have caught on to what was happening. "Dr. Benoit – there was no assignment. That all ended long ago."
"You didn't know about it, Jethro. It was just between Tony and me, and I instructed him to keep it that way," Jenny said.
"It's not true," Tony said, holding his head high. Maybe there already had been too many lies for her to believe him, but he'd promised her the truth, and he'd been completely honest with her thus far. Even if she left now thinking he'd lied to her again, he was going to give her the truth. It was all he had left.
"I know," she whispered, and it took a moment for her soft words to register in his befuddled mind.
Startled green eyes met confident blue.
"You believe me?" he asked shakily. Far too many betrayals in his past making her unequivocal acceptance hard to trust.
She nodded solemnly. "I do. You told me she's been looking for me, and I awoke beneath a bullet-proof vest. I saw the gun on the floor before I came out. You need to have that shoulder looked at," she said, indicating the arm he kept clutched to his chest.
"What gun?" Fornell asked sharply.
"She was armed when she tried to sneak into the bedroom. I knocked it out of her hand," Tony said, never taking his eyes off Jeanne.
Gibbs moved between them and entered the bedroom, locating the gun that had skidded along the floor.
"Found it," he said, pulling a bag and pair of gloves from his jacket pocket and treating the weapon like evidence.
Tony was struck by the fact that's exactly what it was. "You'll have to check out her right arm. I pistol-whipped it pretty good," he said.
"He did. I want him charged with assault," Jenny said, her eyes dilated and enraged.
Gibbs had told him that she was having some health issues and might be mentally incapacitated, but Tony hadn't expected this. She was out of her mind. Even her appearance wasn't anything near her impeccable standards. She wore a suit blazer over black sweatpants and a Navy T-shirt, mismatched shoes on her feet.
"What's wrong with her?" Tony asked.
"That's for the doctors to tell us. I'm taking her in, and I'll be sure to ask for a psych eval," Fornell said, reading the Director her rights.
"You got this?" Gibbs asked.
Fornell glanced at Gibbs then at Tony before nodding. "I think I can manage. I phoned Sacks on the drive here, I'm sure he's in the lobby by now. You okay, DiNozzo?" he asked, using the traditional Italian pronunciation of Tony's name.
"Slacks is here? No way in hell he's coming into my apartment," Tony said, looking to Gibbs for support. That damn FBI tool still thought he was guilty of murdering all those women, despite all the evidence clearing him. He didn't want him mucking up anything with his preconceived bias.
"It's all right, Tobias. You take her in, I'll get my people to dust for prints and gather any evidence that might be here," Gibbs said.
"Who says we're incapable of cooperation?" Fornell asked, smirking.
"Jethro! You can't let him take me. I'm the Director of NCIS and your former partner. Your own rules won't allow it," Jenny said, pleading.
"I don't know whose rules you're following these days, but they're not mine," Gibbs said as Fornell pulled her out the door. He kicked it shut with his foot as Jenny shrieked dire consequences.
"Come on, Tony. Let me take a look at your shoulder," Jeanne said, tugging him back into the bedroom.
He allowed her to lead him, sinking wearily onto the bed next to the discarded Kevlar vest, his adrenaline fading and exhaustion setting in. Her gentle fingers probed along his collarbone, making him wince, but he managed to hold back a groan.
"What d'you think, Doc? Does he need to go to the hospital?" Gibbs asked, watching closely.
"No!" Tony yelped, noticing neither of them were paying attention. "I didn't re-break it. It just didn't like the twisting motion."
Jeanne sighed. "I'm really concerned about how you know that, but you're right. I don't think it's broken. The only way to confirm it is with an X-ray, but you definitely need to put that sling back on," she said, frowning.
"Ducky can do an X-ray at work tomorrow. We need to talk. You believed me," Tony said, still trying to process everything that had happened that night.
Jeanne nodded. "Yes. You told me that she might try something, and the last time, after your car exploded, you were upfront with me right away. It didn't make sense that you wouldn't this time if you were on assignment again," Jeanne said. "You were worried."
Tony swallowed thickly. "I was, but I promised no more lies," he said, uncomfortably aware that Gibbs was still in the room.
Jeanne seemed to realize it suddenly too, along with the fact she wasn't wearing anything but Tony's T-shirt. Her face colored as she excused herself, gathered her clothing from the floor and took them to the bathroom.
Tony turned to face Gibbs who rather than looking uncomfortable was actually smirking. It struck Tony that he hadn't been at all upset at finding Jeanne there, and seemed to be on her side about getting Tony medically cleared. He'd never considered the fact the two of them might form their own bond – over him.
He averted his eyes from Gibbs and moved to his dresser to grab a T-shirt, pulling it over his head with difficulty. He winced at the movement, but Gibbs waited patiently for him to get it on, somehow knowing Tony wouldn't appreciate any assistance.
"You know I have to call the team and get them over here to gather any evidence," Gibbs said. "And don't think you can use it as an excuse to be late tomorrow."
"I know," Tony said, sighing and ignoring the jibe about being late. "She was wearing gloves, so I don't think we'll find any prints."
"Maybe not, but you said you felt something off at your apartment before tonight. She's probably been here before," Gibbs said.
Tony nodded, hating the idea his home – his sanctuary – and been invaded like that. "Listen… do you think you could take Jeanne's witness statement and let her leave before they arrive?" Tony asked, uncertain if Gibbs would agree. This wasn't how he'd wanted the others to learn that he and Jeanne were back together.
"Sure," Gibbs said simply.
"Really?" Tony asked, stunned.
Gibbs shrugged. "I'm going to follow your gut on this one. It's been doing a damn good job."
Tony beamed. Suddenly, his shoulder didn't hurt at all.
Author's Note:
I hope that made up for the cliffy! As always, your feedback is appreciated. Thanks so much to Unilocular for her time and valuable input on how everything comes across. (And for making me cut Gibbs words even after I thought they were already at a bare minimum!)
This chapter is dedicated to Scousemuz1k who missed the opportunity for more Tony suffering when he had his second opinion a few chapters back.