Note: I've found a note at the top fixes the chapter centering. I know it's just my OCD, but it bugs the hell out of me.
Chapter Eight
Under Pressure
The FBI's Philadelphia field office was smaller and more cramped than the NCIS squad room, but at least it was free of bright orange walls. In fact, the walls were a dull beige and rather unremarkable – like the rest of the place. Standard office furniture that had seen better days, a worn grey carpet, and a bunch of cubicles surrounded by standard-size offices. Only the technology looked new and up-to-date.
McGee perked up the moment they entered and was currently syncing his laptop to the FBI equipment. The four NCIS agents shared a sedan on the drive from DC while the feebs were able to fly, thus arriving earlier. Making it worse, Ziva darted ahead in the parking lot and claimed shotgun next to Gibbs, leaving Tony and McGee to ride in the back with McGee's precious laptop. He insisted he didn't trust that it wouldn't be damaged in the trunk with all their go-bags.
Tony knew what would happen once they were underway. The nausea started almost as soon as they hit the highway, although he valiantly blamed it on a bad breakfast burrito. After the second time Gibbs had to pull over so Tony could throw up, the boss took pity on him – at least Tony thought he did. He told Tony to drive since he was tired of finding a spot where he could puke. Gibbs then climbed into the backseat with McGee and promptly fell asleep. Ziva grumbled the rest of the way that she should be the one to drive since Tony was obviously hungover.
Tony ignored her, knowing the likelihood of the entire team dying in a fiery blaze was probable if she took the wheel. Instead, once the nausea passed, he regaled his teammates of what he considered the finest car chases in movie history.
They arrived in Philadelphia just after noon, cramped and irritable – except Gibbs who'd slept the whole way – but at least Tony hadn't been sick again. Luckily, neither of the junior agents had yet caught on to his propensity for carsickness. They both really needed to work on their observational skills, but he wasn't about to press it since he didn't want to hand them another weapon in their arsenal.
Tina secured a conference room for NCIS since the three FBI agents arrived earlier and already claimed work spaces. Tony wasn't certain where Fornell and Slacks were, but he wasted no time in showing Tina the sketch he'd brought along.
"Our Forensic Scientist and a sketch artist sat down with Lieutenant Montague yesterday. We didn't get much on the ones who threatened him, but this is the guy he lost money to in the first place. Recognize him?" Tony asked.
Tina studied the sketch thoughtfully. "I think so… let me get the photographs we have of the regulars who frequent the back room. I think this guy looks like one of them," she said, taking the sketch with her.
"I want that back," Gibbs growled as he took a spot at the head of the conference table.
Although her back was to them, Tony saw her shoulders stiffen.
"I'm not known for absconding with evidence, but I assure you, my office is right next door if you feel the need to check," she said.
Tony grinned, but turned away quickly so Gibbs wouldn't notice. Tim finished setting up his computer, and Ziva was stalking back and forth against the wall of the conference room, disgruntled. Of course, she'd been that way all morning, but Tony hadn't felt well enough to needle her to find out why. Now seemed like a perfect opportunity.
"Get your laptop hooked up, Ziva. Time's a-wasting," he said, plugging his own into the wall.
McGee began doing the task for Gibbs, probably worrying that Gibbs would somehow destroy it, and he'd be tasked with getting it repaired. It probably was a safe bet, actually.
"All we have been doing is wasting time. I could have saved at least an hour on the time it took you to drive here," Ziva said.
"Yeah, but you'd have to subtract the time we would've spent dealing with local LEOs who pulled us over for speeding," Tony replied.
"That was only one time," she said, outraged.
"One time last week," he muttered.
"We also lost time when you made us stop so you could puke," Tim said, smirking.
"Ah ha! And you cannot say that was not wasting time," Ziva said triumphantly.
"I could save time by sending you all back to DC," Gibbs snapped.
"Here it is," Tina said, re-entering the conference room with several folders. "These are surveillance photos from inside the bar, and this looks likes your guy – Vito Santino. He plays in most of the high stake's games but doesn't hang around and socialize afterwards. Sully didn't get much out of him and noted that he seemed rather skittish," Tina said.
"Vito Santino – and you're sure its not Mafia related?" Tim asked.
"Hey! We've discussed this, Probie – Italiano doesn't mean mafia," Tony said, smacking Tim on the back of the head.
Tina's eyes widened in surprise. She was in a for a big shock once she hung around Gibbs' team for a while.
"No – we've ruled out Mafia, and Santino's record is clean," she said.
"He likes to gamble, though – maybe he lost money to someone, and he's paying off his debt by putting his skills to use," Tony said.
"That's what Sully said," Tina replied, startled.
Tony tilted his head to the side cockily.
"Well, it is not surprising. He instructed you on his undercover methods, no? The fact you think along the same lines perhaps will get you into the same trouble," Ziva said.
"That was my objection," Sacks said, entering the conference room with Fornell. He wore the same disgruntled expression that Ziva had all morning.
"Glad you finally made it," Fornell said, smirking. "Next time don't hold back crucial details and maybe I can arrange space for you to fly with us."
"I'd rather drive," Gibbs said.
"Speak for yourself there, Boss – I'll be happy to fly back once this is over," Tony said.
"Too bad NCIS doesn't have its own jet. Budget agency, budget employees, budget transportation," Sacks said smugly.
"Yeah, but all your fancy perks don't help with your solve rate, do they, Slacks? I heard you lost your big insider trading case in court last week," Tony said. "Better luck next time."
Sacks smirk melted into a scowl. "It's Sacks, and that was only because the judge refused our reasonable search and seizure," he said.
"Then again, I saw firsthand how you zeroed in on the idea I committed a crime and had blinders to anything else," Tony said bitterly. "We call that target fixation."
"The evidence all pointed to you – and I'm still not convinced your friends didn't just get you out of it. Physical evidence doesn't lie," Sacks said heatedly.
"Evidence can be solid, but it's the interpretation that counts," Tony said, rolling his eyes.
"That's enough. I told you already, we're going to focus on this case, Agent Sacks," Fornell said, scowling.
Sacks grit his teeth and looked away.
"Here's the file on what we know about the bartender you'll be impersonating," Tina said, ignoring the needling between the other agents and handing the file to Tony.
"I still don't see why DiNozzo should go. I've been studying this brief – I know Cody Redman like the back of my hand," Sacks said, steaming.
"Cody Redman? Is that my alias? Hmm… not real fond of Cody, but that name screams Code Red. Don't tell me he hasn't been known to go by that when he's bartending," Tony said.
"Actually – he does. How did you know that?" Tina asked suspiciously.
"Come on – isn't it obvious? Ready-made nickname. That's what I'd call myself," Tony said.
"That's because you're a juvenile idiot. Really, Fornell, you can't trust this guy. He can't help himself," Sacks said.
"Sounds like the real Cody Redman might be a juvenile idiot himself," Gibbs said dryly.
"Tony curled his lip. "Thanks, Boss."
"DiNozzo fits the real Redman – he's going in. They're expecting you to start tomorrow, so you don't have a lot of time to learn the art of mixology," Fornell said.
"Won't be necessary. I worked as a bartender my senior year in college after a sports injury sidelined me. It also helps that I enjoy entertaining company of the female persuasion. Guys are easy – they want straight alcohol, but you need to know how to make the fancy cocktails the ladies enjoy. I can handle it," Tony said.
"Great – you will be distracted the entire time you are there," Ziva said, throwing her arms in the air and rolling her eyes.
"I always appreciate beauty while I work, Ziva – it's part of my charm. Still doesn't stop me from getting the job done," Tony said.
"DiNozzo – quit messing around and study up on popular drinks. Ziva, McGee, I want you two to do a background check on Vito Santino, see what the FBI missed," Gibbs said, looking right at Fornell.
"Well, you know, the best way to research current drink trends is to experience them, Boss. I know the area. I think a little personal reconnaissance would be the best bet," Tony said.
Ziva, Sacks and Tim all rolled their eyes, but Tim, at least, began working. Gibbs looked at Tony with narrowed eyes. Tony flashed his impossibly white teeth.
Gibbs jerked his head toward the door. "Go on, don't make me regret this. I'm not listening to you puke again."
Tony beamed and grabbed his jacket. "Don't worry, Boss. You know I'm a professional."
Gibbs shook his head, although he almost looked amused.
"You mean he is going bar jumping while we are all working?" Ziva asked.
"Bar hopping, Ziva," Tim said.
"Sacks, help with the research and fill them in on anything pertinent. Gibbs, what do you say you and I head over to Sullivan's apartment and see if we can figure out where he might be," Fornell suggested.
Tony slipped out the door as they all got to work, thinking of the first place he'd like to pay a visit. He hadn't been back to Philly in a very long time.
/* /* /* /*
Gibbs didn't arrive at the Holiday Inn where the team was staying until well after ten o'clock that night. Making the sleeping arrangements was never something he bothered with, but considering the hostility between DiNozzo and Ziva, he knew they had to be separated. That meant one of them needed to bunk with him. Normally, he'd prefer to stay with whoever would be the quietest. Unfortunately, McGee wasn't an option. If he bunked with Ziva, he'd have to listen to her simmering frustration that she wasn't the one undercover, and although DiNozzo tended to talk a lot, at least he never expected answers.
Deciding that DiNozzo would be around less once he was undercover, he determined his SFA was the better option. For tonight, it was probably futile, but he hoped they'd all be asleep before he got there.
He and Fornell had searched every inch of Brian Sullivan's apartment, but they hadn't uncovered a trace of what might've happened to him. Gibbs' gut was telling him the news on the missing agent wouldn't be good, but for once, he was hoping his gut was wrong.
The hotel corridor was empty and quiet when he reached their floor, several empty room-service trays stacked outside the closed doors. There was a pair outside the room McGee and Ziva were sharing, but the space outside his own room was empty. He grabbed a bite with Fornell while they were out – Tobias had insisted on Philly cheese-steaks since they were in the city. Gibbs couldn't see why anyone would drown a perfectly good steak with all that cheese.
He opened the door to find his room dark and empty. DiNozzo had yet to return from his surveillance of the local bars. Gibbs shook his head. If the idiot was hungover in the morning before prepping for his assignment, there'd be hell to pay. Gibbs removed his wallet and phone and put them on the nightstand, sitting on one of the beds to secure his weapon.
His phone rang, disrupting the peaceful silence in the room. He picked it up, glancing at the caller ID – Abby. How did she always know the moment he was alone?
"Yeah, Gibbs," he said.
"Are you all safely tucked in for the night? I always find it really hard to sleep in a hotel, but you probably won't be there much, and you can sleep anywhere, anyway. I wish I could do that, just drop off anywhere. How's Tony? Is he all set to wow the ladies with his bottle maneuvering skills? I bet he'll love that. I can't wait to get there and check how things are going. I don't trust the FBI to process the evidence. They always go too quick and things get missed. Don't you think they make a lot of mistakes? You better make sure to send me the results of anything really important so I can double check. A second check is alw–"
"Abby!" he yelled or else she'd go on all night.
She'd really wanted to accompany them to Philadelphia, and he could hear the anxiety in her voice. She'd feel much better once she was working on the case.
"Is there a reason you called? A work-related reason," he asked, knowing his fondness for the quirky Goth was creeping into his voice.
"Oh! Yes. I did my own background check on Cody Redman. I don't have a photo since, until now, he's never been arrested and has virtually no online presence. I'm sure the Philadelphia office will get one from detaining him. He must be old-fashioned like you, Gibbs. I did learn that he's a huge fan of the Detroit Pistons. Tony knows basketball, so that should help," she said.
"That's good, Abs. I'll let him know," Gibbs said.
"He's not there with you?" she asked, sounding a little desperate to keep him on the phone.
"No."
"But he is staying with you?" she asked, persistent as ever.
"Why?"
"It's just… I don't think it's a good idea if you have him and Ziva stay together," Abby said, and he could almost hear her biting her lip.
Abby was very upset when Ziva first joined the team, but he thought she was coming around.
"Do you have a problem with Ziva, too?" he asked.
"No… not really… maybe a little. Look, she was really mad that you sent McGee with Tony the other day, and she blamed Tony. You know she's a killer, right? And she sometimes gets a little scary," Abby said.
"Tony can take care of himself, Abs," Gibbs said.
"I know he can, but not if she slits his throat while he's sleeping," she said, firing up again.
"Someone had to take Kate's job," Gibbs said, guessing that was the real reason for Abby's mistrust.
"Yeah, but did it have to be someone involved in getting her killed in the first place?" she asked.
"She wasn't gathering the intel for a hit. Ari had a problem with me. Kate was collateral damage," he said heavily.
Kate's loss still weighed on his mind. If he'd been just a little faster, a little quicker on the uptake, Kate would still be here, and they wouldn't even have Ziva on the team. He vaguely wondered what Jenny would've done then.
"It wasn't your fault, Gibbs," Abby said softly.
"Get some sleep," he said before disconnecting the call.
Abby always worried when the team was away, and she couldn't keep her eyes on them. This was the first time since Kate's death. It only made sense she was concerned and didn't have anywhere to funnel it. He thought her criticism of Ziva was overly harsh, though.
Gibbs sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Abby was the second member of his team questionings Ziva's position, and it was the second time he found himself defending her. He usually let them work out their issues on their own. DiNozzo had been shocked when he'd been asked to cut Ziva some slack.
Why did he feel so protective of his new agent? Even he had to admit it wasn't like him. It was something about her eyes that always cut right through him. She had eyes like his long-lost daughter. Maybe it was because she was the first person in years that actually knew about Kelly. That was his own fault. No one currently in his life even knew she ever existed. He'd cut ties with his father, Mike Franks was long-retired, and he simply refused to utter Shannon or Kelly's names.
That was on him. Ziva wasn't a substitute for Kelly.
He knew that, but somehow, her knowing about his family had forged a connection between the two. When she'd saved his life, killing a member of her own family in order to do it, he felt a kindred spirit. He couldn't protect Kelly, but he wanted to protect Ziva.
Was he doing that at the expense of the others? He recalled how Ziva had demanded his respect in the elevator on her first day. If anyone else had tried that, he'd have told them to earn it, and probably slapped them on the back of the head. Ziva would never earn the respect of her teammates if she didn't work at it, and she wouldn't work at it if she was secure in her belief that she unfailingly had his. She believed he would always repay the loyalty she'd showed him in kind – that it somehow gave her an edge over the others. Did she honestly think she was the first member of his team to have saved his life?
He was going to have to even the playing field – and it wouldn't be pleasant for anyone. Wishing he was home in his basement with some woodwork to ease the turmoil in his mind, he picked up his things and proceeded to take his shower.
He'd just climbed into bed and flicked off the light when the hotel room door burst open and DiNozzo stepped inside, grunting when he bumped into the re-closing door.
"Shhh," he whispered loudly.
"Who are you shushing, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, amused despite himself.
"Not choo, Boss. I would never shush you," DiNozzo said, slurring slightly. "Whatever you have to say, I always give my full attention. I like when you talk, Boss… maybe because you don't do it all that much."
Gibbs flicked the light back on and studied his agent carefully. He was a little rumpled and definitely a little buzzed, but nothing over-the top. DiNozzo wasn't a lightweight when it came to holding his alcohol, but there were times when he was upset or stressed that it always seemed to hit him harder. The stress over the team dynamics, and the fact DiNozzo knew the missing FBI agent would be enough.
Gibbs knew Tony had reached that sweet spot where he'd let his guard down without losing his situational awareness. For someone who chattered incessantly, DiNozzo actually revealed very little about his true self. Those morsels that Gibbs had gathered over the years had always come from situations just like this. He knew it was probably taking advantage, but he wasn't called a bastard for nothing.
"Tell me what you know about Brian Sullivan," Gibbs said as DiNozzo shuffled across the room with exaggerated precision.
Tony took a deep breath, staring at Gibbs with guarded eyes despite his buzzed state. Gibbs knew that's what made him so good at undercover work.
"I will, but I gotta pee first," he said, going into the head.
Gibbs smirked, knowing DiNozzo wouldn't see it. He was always fascinated on the rare occasions when the younger man let his many masks fall – intentionally or not.
When Tony returned, he'd obviously splashed some water on his face in an attempt to sober up. His path to the unoccupied bed wasn't steady however, and he collapsed rather than sat upon it.
"Goodnight, Boss," he said cheerfully, reaching to turn out the light.
Gibbs blocked his hand on the nightstand between the two beds.
"You were going to tell me about Brian Sullivan," he said.
"Oh. Right. I think I'd rather just go to sleep," DiNozzo said.
Gibbs glared without blinking.
Tony huffed. "Fine. You know I did my first undercover op here in Philly, right?" he asked, picking at the sheet covering him.
"Tell me what I don't know – something that might help me find him," Gibbs said, his voice getting louder with each word.
DiNozzo always reacted oddly to any softening on Gibbs part, so he knew if he was his usual abrasive self, he might get a few morsels that could help both Sullivan and DiNozzo. He was aware his agent was struggling with the other man's disappearance more than he let on.
"Sorry, Boss. You know me – I like to set the mood," DiNozzo said, releasing a long breath. He leaned up against the headboard, mirroring Gibbs position across the room and stared up at the ceiling.
Gibbs gave him a minute to gather his thoughts, but before he had to ask again, DiNozzo began to speak in a soft, faraway sort of voice.
"He was kind of a pre-curser to you – a mentor, you know? I didn't know him very long, but I trusted him. He had my six – although I didn't call it that then. That's an NCIS thing. You were the first one that used that expression, but I like it. What d'you–"
"DiNozzo – Sullivan," Gibbs prompted.
"Right. He had my back when those in my department were supposed to have it but didn't. I would've died on that first mission if it weren't for him," Tony said, still staring at the ceiling. "Almost did."
"What happened?" Gibbs asked, his stomach clenched. Even knowing Tony obviously came out of it okay, he felt rage at DiNozzo's superior officers.
"Believe it or not, I was pretty cocky back then, Boss," Tony said, nodding his head seriously.
"Hard to imagine," Gibbs deadpanned.
"No, it's true. I drove them all crazy, and they always wanted me out of the way – story of my life. They had me doing all the mundane tasks – you know, parking tickets, wiping up bodily fluids in the holding cell, removing the local bums from the library and stuff. They nicknamed me Spider. I should've known to haul ass, but I wasn't quite as savvy then," Tony said, not catching Gibbs' sarcasm.
Gibbs had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but even without all his faculties, DiNozzo could read his confusion.
"From the movie Goodfellas. Spider was low-man on the totem pole, assigned the same kind of tasks as me. He was mouthy like me, too. So, they just killed him for no reason," DiNozzo said.
Gibbs' gut churned at that comparison. Still, it was in the past, they had to focus on now.
"That how you met Chico – herding the street people?" Gibbs asked.
"Yeah, met quite a few frequent fliers that way. I'd get them something to eat, and they'd share info about life on the streets. Nothing too sensational, but some of their tips panned out. It irritated the other guys how I kept making more work for them," Tony said.
"You were doing your job," Gibbs said.
"Mafia still heavily influenced the streets back then, and I was the same age and as mouthy as the enforcers. My sarge decided he could use me to get info on criminal activity," he said.
Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Seems like a big assignment for a rookie," he said.
"It was. I think they thought I'd get myself killed, and I wouldn't be their problem anymore. I didn't get it, though. I was as green as McGee," DiNozzo said.
"I somehow doubt that," Gibbs replied.
"Yeah, well. They didn't know that I'd spent most of my life undercover and had no problem fitting into a different skin," Tony said, smirking and clearly proud of himself.
The hair on the back of Gibbs neck stood on end. This hadn't been the information he'd been seeking, but he couldn't deny his curiosity about DiNozzo's carefully guarded past.
"How's that?" he asked, aware that if he asked for anything specific, DiNozzo might catch on and clam up. Being vague and letting him just talk tended to work better.
"With a new stepmother or boarding school around every corner, I had to learn to adapt and figure out the rules and pecking order. I learned how to reinvent myself in each situation. Sully was already undercover, and my department had to let the local FBI office know I was working the case. He approached me," Tony said.
"And you just accepted that?" Gibbs asked skeptically. Verifying what he was told was never a rule he had to teach DiNozzo.
Tony scrunched up his face. "Hell, no. Even once he'd convinced me he was a Fed didn't mean that I trusted him. He kept at it, though – little bits of advice that were all sound, but I pretended not to listen."
"What happened?" Gibbs asked.
"He thought I was in a tight spot one time, but I'd already pretty much talked my way out of it. I'd explained the reason I was where I wasn't supposed to be was because I was interested in this guy's sister. Sully didn't know that, and he tried to butt in, so I had to work fast to convince Julio – the mobster – that Sully was also interested in his sister. I was just trying to beat him to asking her out. Julio told us both to get out of there, and once we did, Maria – the sister – tracked me down wanting to go out. Sully couldn't believe it. We worked together from there on out," DiNozzo said, grinning at the memory.
His eyes were half-shut, the coloring on one a sickly yellow. He looked ready to drop off, but Gibbs wasn't finished.
"How did it end?" he asked.
DiNozzo blinked drowsily several times drowsily. "We eventually got the evidence we needed, but it turned out my Sarge was on the take, along with a couple of the other guys in my department. They tried to bury it by blowing my cover. Sully is the one who caught on and got me out before they killed me – although they certainly tried. The FBI ended up taking down the local mafia," DiNozzo said, absently rubbing his shoulder.
"But?" Gibbs asked, knowing there was more. His jaw ticked, and he clenched his fists, enraged that any LEO would intentionally blow a cover of someone he was supposed to be protecting.
DiNozzo sighed. "But… you know how LEOs protect other LEOs, even when they shouldn't, right? They thought it was best if I got out of town quickly, and they facilitated my move to Baltimore. I thought they were covering up for my crooked department, and I was so pissed – seeing red pissed. I left without a word to anyone – not even my partner. Heard a few months later that the department hierarchy had pretty much all decided to retire early."
"Funny how that works," Gibbs said.
"Yeah, well, I didn't think it was very funny. I left angry at Sully, when I really should've thanked him for saving my life," DiNozzo said, clenching the bedsheets in his hands.
Gibbs shrugged, "Well, you can return the favor my saving his."
"You think he's still alive?" Tony asked quietly.
"He is if they want something," Gibbs replied.
"I hope so," Tony whispered, his troubled eyes betraying inner turmoil.
"Both NCIS and the FBI have your six. We'll get him," Gibbs said, fully aware he couldn't guarantee that Sully would be alive when they did find him.
Tony still looked troubled, so Gibbs knew he was aware, but he couldn't let it cloud his agent's reactions once he was inside that club with killers.
"Don't go lone wolf on this. If that's what you're planning, I'll pull you right now," Gibbs said, anger hiding his concern.
Tony finally looked over, staring right at Gibbs. "I trust you – and I used to think you trusted me."
That one really stung.
"There's no one I trust more – except maybe when it comes to women," Gibbs said, raising an eyebrow.
Tony snorted. "As if you're one to talk."
Gibbs paused for a moment before adding solemnly. "One of us will always partner with Ziva."
He knew DiNozzo would understand without him having to say it that he was acknowledging DiNozzo's distrust of Ziva and taking steps so he wouldn't feel exposed.
"Thanks, Boss," DiNozzo said, giving one of his real smiles.
He was quiet for a while, and Gibbs thought he'd drifted off to sleep until he mumbled softly, his mind clearly somewhere else.
"Aren't we a pair, Boss? You closed off from everyone, and me surrounded by people I don't let in. Yet we're both still alone."
Gibbs' gut twisted. He didn't want DiNozzo to be like him; he wanted more for him. but Still, he'd always struggled to express how he truly felt.
"We're never alone since we have each other's six," he said, more comfortable framing it around work.
DiNozzo seemed to hear what wasn't being said, because he smiled again, sleepily.
"I've got to get some shut eye if I'm going to be on my game tomorrow."
"You're just imagining yourself as Tom Cruise playing Maverick behind a bar," Gibbs said, rolling his eyes.
The flash of pleasure that crossed DiNozzo's face was worth revealing that he idid/i have some movie knowledge.
"You know, Cocktail was great, but I always imagined myself more like Sascha, the humorous bartender at Rick's Café Americaine in 1941's classic Casablanca," DiNozzo said, beaming.
"Of course, you did."
Real Note: I'm planning to get one more chapter up before I go away on vacation for a week. I promise not to leave you on a cliffy, but don't think this story is abandoned when I don't post next week. The first draft is completely done, I'm just cleaning it up as I go along.
