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Chapter Twenty-Two
Don't Come Around Here No More
Reeling, Tony turned his face toward Gibbs, stunned and betrayed.
Gibbs felt equally stunned, but the betrayal on Tony's face infuriated him. Just when they'd finally made some progress repairing the rift that he – Gibbs – created, these two had to blow it all to hell. His surprise quickly turned to rage. He knew Tony thought Gibbs had asked them here to force the issue. He was going to set that straight immediately. He sat his coffee cup down on Tony's tray table and stood, glaring at the two junior agents as if he could incinerate them with his eyeballs.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he snarled.
Tim's eyes widened, and he took a step backwards as if Gibbs' response had blown him like a strong gust of wind. Ziva, however, stood her ground, surprised.
"We were nearby following up on a lead. It was not viable, so we thought we would visit Tony," she said, puzzled by the cold response.
"I told you to stay in the office and focus on the case."
Ziva's confusion turned to annoyance. "We were working on the case. Fornell sent teams to all the different locations found on Lola's phone."
"Ah… Boss… none of our suspects were at our assigned location… but it wasn't too far. I've already visited with Tony, but Ziva hadn't… so… we thought it'd be all right if we just popped in to check on him," Tim said, swallowing. "Was that wrong?"
Gibbs swore internally. He'd forgotten that he'd already brought McGee here with Abby. Still, Tony said he wasn't ready to deal with these two, so Gibbs knew what he had to do. He couldn't risk letting Tony lose trust in him, too.
"Both of you – outside," he barked, moving to follow them into the hospital corridor.
"It's okay, Boss," Tony said quietly.
Gibbs turned to see the resignation on the younger man's face. He didn't want to break his word to Tony. He'd seen the doubt and betrayal flash in his eyes, at a time where he felt betrayal all around him. But DiNozzo needed to regain some control, so despite his urge to knock the other two's heads together, he let him have it.
"You sure? There's a waiting room right outside," he said, knowing Tony would understand that he was giving him an out.
The resignation didn't leave DiNozzo's face as he nodded. "Positive."
This time, Gibbs could see the strength and determination that he was accustomed to seeing in his SFA's eyes return. If Tony wanted to confront what his partners did, Gibbs wasn't going to stop him, although he fully intended to step in if necessary.
"What is the problem? We heard you discussing the case. Do you not want to hear our status report?" Ziva asked, interrupting impatiently.
"The problem, Officer David, is that I told you not to visit the hospital," Gibbs snapped, breaking his eye contact with Tony, and turning to face her.
"Yes, when Tony was unconscious. Is he still too fragile to hear details of the investigation?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Tony bit out, glaring at both of them.
Gibbs was sure Ziva used the word fragile just to get under DiNozzo's skin. He knew under ordinary circumstances Tony would never tolerate it, but he also knew that he skipped his pain meds earlier. He had to be in a world of hurt by now. Sparring with Ziva wasn't going to do him any favors.
"McGee, report," he barked, well aware that skipping over Ziva for McGee would feel like a snub to her – as it was meant to be.
Her eyes widened in hurt surprise. Tony was right. She needed to be reminded of her place on the team, at least while she was still here. McGee sidestepped her into the room nervously. He tentatively held out a coffee cup and a small bag that he placed very deliberately on Tony's tray table.
"Hey, Tony. I brought you some hot chocolate and a donut," he said with a small, shaky smile before turning to Gibbs. "I put a tracker on the cell tower nearest the area where Tony was taken. It pinged several locations where the calls to Lola's phone originated. Fornell wanted to search them all simultaneously, so he sent teams to each. The one Ziva and I searched was relatively nearby, a coffeeshop, but none of the staff recognized the photos we showed them."
McGee swallowed, clearly anxious about Gibbs' mood, but the report was concise, and the fact he brought Tony breakfast was a clear sign he was trying to make up for his error in judgement. He'd already apologized once. Gibbs supposed he ought to give Ziva a chance to do the same. It would be up to Tony to decide if he wanted to accept it.
Tony nodded and reached for the donut he wasn't supposed to have. Gibbs noticed that his hands were shaking. His pain must've reached a level where he was unable to hide it. He knew Tony wasn't supposed to have the donut, but he didn't have the heart to stop him. It was too unusual for DiNozzo to not want to eat.
"Gibbs, I do not understand why you are upset with me, but I can see that you are," Ziva said, her posture tense.
He studied her coolly for a moment, but it was McGee who shifted nervously. Ziva continued to stare, a hint of impatience in the way she clenched her fists in an attempt to hold her tongue.
"Do you have anything to add?" he asked.
Ziva frowned, puzzled. "McGee has given our sitrep. I do not know if the other teams found anything. You will have to talk to Fornell when you return to work."
"Anything you'd like to say to DiNozzo?" he asked pointedly.
Ziva blinked, looking over at the hospital bed. "How are you?"
"Better – no thanks to you," Tony replied coldly.
Her eyebrows rose. "You seem well, and you have Gibbs here with you. I was not responsible for treating your injuries."
"No, but you were responsible for ensuring I didn't… get injured in the first place. I thought, being Mossad and all, you'd be better… trained than that," Tony said, tilting his head, calm and controlled.
He spoke slowly, and Gibbs could hear the strain from controlling his breathing so as not gasp. While he admired the strength, it pissed him off that it was necessary.
Two bright spots of color appeared high on Ziva's cheeks, her eyes narrowing.
"We're really sorry, Tony. I know we messed up. We should've followed you to the men's room. We should've known better," Tim said earnestly, cutting in over Ziva's response to the dig.
Tony nodded, yet his eyes remained fixed on Ziva. When Tim began his apology, Gibbs watched her reaction, hoping to find some remorse. The emotions that flickered through her eyes were brief, but telling. At first there was surprise, as if she didn't know why McGee was apologizing; then there was anger – Gibbs wasn't sure if it was for including her in the admission of guilt, or because Tim beat her to it. Possibly it was Tony's dig at Mossad. Then, finally, it was recognition. If it had been a cartoon, he was certain he'd see a light bulb above her head. At least she'd finally realized what he expected.
"Yes, Tony. We should have followed you sooner," she said, bowing her head.
"You mean you should've done your job?" Tony asked, clearly unwilling to let her off the hook.
Ziva flinched and clenched her jaw.
"How did you manage to get away? Gibbs has not shared many of the details," she said stiffly.
"It helps to have friends," Tony replied. "Thanks for the breakfast, McGee."
Tony picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip, the trembling more pronounced. The donut had barely been touched, and Gibbs knew that meant he wasn't doing nearly as well as he was trying to make it appear. There was a distinct wheeze now fully audible when he spoke.
Still, expressing his thanks to only McGee was telling.
Ziva glanced over at Gibbs, eyes imploring and vulnerable, begging his forgiveness as if a child looking to her father. If it had been just a few weeks ago, he might have bought it and let her off the hook. A part of him still wanted to, but he knew she was also aware of his weak spot – and she'd been taking advantage.
"We should have followed your orders, Gibbs," she said.
"Explain why you didn't," he snapped, still unhappy with the crap they'd been shoveling.
Ziva blinked, surprised he didn't simply accept the apology as she'd expected. Her gaze flickered to Tony and the breakfast tray where Gibbs' own coffee and the remains of his breakfast still rested. The unconcealed jealousy in her eyes significant.
"He was only in the men's room – with a woman – and we watched for his return. We thought it was enough," she said, her back ramrod straight.
"No. I was in… the area outside… the men's room. You wouldn't have… missed that I didn't go in… if I was within sight," Tony said, teeth clenched.
She ignored him and kept her eyes on Gibbs beseechingly. He didn't give her an inch.
"Your orders were to have eyes on him – especially after the sailor's rescue," Gibbs shouted.
"Yes," she said through gritted teeth, her posture rigid.
Before Gibbs could continue his tirade, a nurse came in, glancing around at the number of visitors and the raised voices with a frown. She walked over to Tony, checking his vitals. Tim's expression continued to fluctuate between concern and apprehension over the words being exchanged between Gibbs and Ziva.
"Well, Agent DiNozzo, we tried the Tylenol, but it's not working. Your blood pressure is too high, and your oxygen level has dropped dramatically. I know you don't like the effects of the Morphine, so I have another one to try that's not quite as strong," the nurse said, inserting the needle into his IV and pressing the plunger fully in.
"Don't," Tony gasped, but it was too late.
She knew he'd argue, the same way Gibbs did, but they had to be concerned enough to deny him the choice. Gibbs approved of her decision even if DiNozzo didn't because he could see the toll the confrontation was taking on him. DiNozzo's body sagged into the bed, his eyes closing as the relief flooded his veins.
"That won't take long at all," she said, patting his leg before turning on the others. "This is a hospital, and I'll thank you to lower your voices, or you'll have to leave."
Once the nurse left, Gibbs turned right back to Ziva, barely keeping a lid on his temper.
"Yes? he repeated, still waiting for either an apology or a real admission of guilt. "Anything you'd like to add?"
"What is it you want, Gibbs? I am in a cucumber. We have already apologized and acknowledged we did not follow your orders for a short time," Ziva said, frustrated.
"No, you didn't – McGee did. Even now, you're qualifying," Gibbs said.
"I think she means in a pickle, Boss," Tim said nervously.
"Fine. I did not have him in my direct sight, as you ordered," Ziva said in a clipped tone.
"You've haven't been following orders since we got here," Gibbs snapped.
"What? I always follow your orders," she said, shocked.
"And Agents Fornell and Kehoe?" he asked.
"I do not work for them," Ziva said, her lip curling.
"On this investigation, iyes/i you do. I'm also aware you contacted both Ducky and McGee behind my back," he said loudly.
This time, she looked shocked, not anticipating Gibbs was aware of that. She glared at Tim accusingly, but Gibbs wasn't finished.
"And yesterday, Director Shepherd knew we'd apprehended Garcia. Who told her? I sure as hell didn't," he said, his voice continuing to rise.
"I didn't. I don't even know her number," Tim said quickly, shaking his head.
"Eight six seven five three oh nine," Tony replied, his body relaxed, and his eyes glazed.
Gibbs turned to him, derailed. "How did you know her number?"
"That is not her number," Ziva said.
"For a good time, call," Tony said, sniggering.
"No, Boss! It's a song. He's quoting a song. It was Jenny's number in the song," Tim said, taking a step closer to the bed as if to guard DiNozzo from Gibbs' wrath.
The less-potent medication clearly wasn't and made DiNozzo just as loopy as the stronger stuff. Gibbs turned his attention back to Ziva.
"I know you have her number, and I've told you before that if you have something to say, it goes through me," he said angrily.
"And how am I supposed to ask you when you have not been around. You have spent all your time here rather than working on the case," Ziva said.
"The Director's not there, either," he snapped.
Ziva knew she'd walked into a trap. She folding her arms across her chest, scowling.
"Go back to the office, both of you. Fornell and Kehoe are in charge. If they tell you to jump, you ask them how high. Are we clear?" he bellowed.
"Yes, Boss," Tim said.
"Very well," Ziva replied, her eyes still hostile.
After they'd both left the room, Tony began to giggle. "Poor Probie – she's going to rip him a new one," he said.
Gibbs knew he was probably right, but that was McGee's problem.
"I should just send her back to DC," Gibbs mumbled.
"She's up to something there, too, Boss," Tony said, slurring.
Gibbs had finally accepted that DiNozzo was right. He hated it, but Ziva's insubordination had to be put in check, and now he had to look into all the other cases she'd worked. This was shaping up to be a nightmare, still with a huge obstacle in the shape of the director.
"I'm going to put you in charge of that back at the office. You're not as biased, and you'll need something to do on desk duty," Gibbs said, grudgingly.
He hated giving up control, but DiNozzo earned this one. Having something to do would also keep him engaged during his recovery. Gibbs' phone rang shrilly in the new silence of the room. He glanced at the caller ID – Fornell. He put it to his ear quickly.
"What've you got, Fornell?" he asked.
Even in his loopy state, Tony's head flew up at the name.
"We've found Agent Sullivan – he's in bad shape, but he's alive."
/* /* /* /*
McGee sat secluded in one of the empty FBI offices. He'd given up trying to get any work done in the open area because Ziva wouldn't stop pestering him. She'd somehow got the idea that he knew more than he was telling. She couldn't understand why Gibbs was more upset with her than with him.
He'd tried to explain that it might be because Gibbs was waiting for her to at least express some regret over what they'd done – or rather, not done – at Vault Tavern. She scoffed at that idea. She thought Tony wasn't hurt nearly as bad as he was pretending, and that he was playing up his injuries to ensure he kept Gibbs' attention. Everyone was blowing it out of proportion.
That's when Tim decided he needed to put a little space between them. In his opinion, Tony looked awful, and his breathing sounded terrible. At the hospital, Tim was having flashbacks of when Tony had the plague. All that was missing was the blue lights. Never mind the fact that the creeps who'd beaten him were still out there looking for him. Gibbs was right to have his six since they'd screwed-up. When Tim pointed that out to Ziva, she said that in Mossad, they were trained to watch out for themselves.
Tim knew Gibbs was still angry with him, too, but he was going to do everything in his power to prove he'd realized it. He wanted to make it up to both Tony and Gibbs – but particularly Tony. He might not always be the greatest at reading people, but he knew that right now, Tony didn't trust him. Tim couldn't blame him. If the situation were reversed, he wouldn't want to have anything to do with his partner, either.
Of course, the whole point Gibbs was trying to make was that Tony never would've done it. Tim didn't know how he could make it up, or if his efforts would ever be accepted. He was still going to try. Even if it ended up that Gibbs kicked both him and Ziva off the team, Tim was going to try and make it up to Tony. They'd been friends not all that long ago, and he wasn't sure what happened to change that. Maybe it was Kate's death. Everything changed after that.
The memory of Tony joining him in Autopsy after he'd finally worked up the courage to go down there and say goodbye filtered through his mind. He'd known she'd been shot in the head, and his overactive, writer's imagination envisioned all sorts of gory, gruesome images. Tony knew it wasn't true, but he still came down to support Tim in facing his fears. Later that night, when he was home in bed, it occurred to him that Tony was the one standing right next to Kate when it happened. The gory, gruesome images in Tony's head were real – yet he'd still leant Tim his support.
Tony's loud, joke-cracking, prank-pulling, boisterous personality made Tim forget that in the truly low points, he'd always been there for Tim. Deep down, Tim realized it wasn't Kate's loss that caused the rift. It was more the addition of Ziva to their team. He'd been so happy to have a new friend, he forgot about the one he already had.
By the time he and Ziva arrived back at headquarters, the building was mostly empty except for Sacks and Fornell. Apparently, one of the teams Fornell sent out located Tina's missing detective. He was unconscious and had been left for dead in one of the abandoned buildings. Tim wasn't sure of his exact condition, but Fornell said he'd been severely beaten and was missing several fingers. Tina and the other agents went to see him.
None of Barrows' crowd were caught in the four different locations where they'd checked. Fornell was working under the assumption that they kept moving around, but Tim wasn't so sure. He suspected they'd separated, and the pings were when they contacted one another, like a phone chain. It still didn't help him pinpoint where they were now. As a result, they'd ordered added security on the U.S.S. Delaware.
"Hey, Tim," Abby said, slipping into the office where he'd been secluded.
Ron Sacks followed her, and he quietly closed the door behind them.
"What's up?" Tim asked, staring at the odd pair.
"Ron had an idea, and I think it's a good one, but I could use a little help setting it up. You in?" Abby asked.
"Tell me what it is first," Tim said, well aware of Abby's fanciful, side-tracking ideas.
"Do you remember the recording we finally managed to get the night Pete Warren was at the club?" Ron asked.
"Yeah – a little hard to forget. It all went to hell after that," Tim said.
"Right! That was the same night Tony rescued the sailor from the Delaware," Abby said.
"I think the recording is in evidence somewhere, but we stopped listening once the card game broke up," Ron said.
Tim nodded. "I have it, but what good is that going to do? We listened to it several times. Neither Warren or Barrows gave any clue where they might have a safe house."
"Not during the card game," Abby said, bouncing on her toes.
"Well… that's what we recorded," Tim said, uncertain where the two were headed, but he could sense their excitement.
"Remember how Ziva and I went to retrieve the bag containing the listening device the next day, and we noticed them searching for the sailor?" Ron asked.
Tim nodded.
"The bug was still active – all night long. We know everyone went home at some point, but if we listen, we might hear what they say when they discover the sailor missing. Maybe they'll give something away then," Ron said, eyebrows raised.
Tim sat up straighter, the hair on the back of his next standing on end. Ron was right. Why hadn't he thought of it?
"You're right… so, you want to listen to the rest? The device has a limited battery life, and there's no guarantee it was close enough to that cellar to pick up anything, but it's worth a shot," Tim said.
"If you help Ron speed through the silence and just find the spots where there are any voices – if there are any voices – I'll keep Ziva from harassing you for the rest of the day," Abby said, smirking.
"Deal," Tim replied without having to think about it.
Not only was it a good idea, but Abby could handle Ziva better than he could. Ziva never knew exactly how to handle Abby, but she usually tried anything to get in her good graces. Tim and Abby shook on it.
"Just be sure and tell me if you find anything," Abby said, skipping out of the office, sequestering him and Sacks behind the closed door.
While Ron went to grab them a couple coffees, Tim got the recording set up, and quickly coded a program to only play back audio activity. The two agents from opposing branches of government huddled together with paper and pencil, hoping they'd catch something. They once again listened to the poker game, just in case they'd missed anything.
After the game was finished, and Barrows announced it was closing time, they listened to the bustling sounds of a bar as they were corralling the last stragglers in order to close for the night.
It went on for several minutes, the sound fading in and out with occasional bursts of static. Eventually, Tony's voice sounded loud and clear, identifying Pete Warren's full name. He also made some joke about a movie before there was silence again. This was the point where most of the agents stopped listening the night it happened. Thankfully, Tina remained behind with the sound still playing in her office, so she heard Tony's distress call. It all went eerily silent after that, but this time, Tim and Ron didn't turn off the recording. Tim began his program, searching for the next burst of activity, and let it run.
While they waited, Ron looked over at Tim, and he seemed to be studying him.
"What's on your mind, Sacks?" he asked, eyes remaining fixed on the line indicating sound – or lack thereof.
"Is DiNozzo really playing up his injuries for sympathy?" Ron asked.
"Who told you that?" Tim asked, not really in doubt, but Gibbs and Tony always said to confirm.
"Officer David. She said he always whines whenever he gets so much as a paper cut. It's not that I don't believe DiNozzo would do it, the guy's a pain in the ass, but I'm just having trouble working out why Gibbs would put up with it."
Tim snorted. "Well, she's not wrong about the paper cut part. Tony will do anything to get sympathy from the secretaries, but you're right, Gibbs would never put up with it if what Ziva said was true. Tony's in bad shape." Tim said.
Ron nodded, considering, but he remained quiet. Tim wondered what he was thinking. He never got the chance to ask, however, as the recording began again. Tim looked at the timestamp. It would've been around noon the day, after they'd found the sailor. It sounded as if something heavy was being dragged across the floor.
"Fuck," a male voice shouted, along with a particularly foul-mouthed curse that Tim wasn't sure was even physically possible.
There were more sounds, things being moved, crashes, but no other voices, so whoever was speaking was most likely alone. The noise stopped abruptly, and the voice sounded again, out of breath.
"Hey, it's Evans. I arrived early to escort Popeye to his new location, but he must've found a can of spinach somewhere, because he's gone."
There was silence again as whoever he was speaking with, most likely on a phone, responded.
"How am I supposed to know? There's nothing here. The tunnel is still concealed, but he's gone," Matt Evans said.
"All right. I'll stay here and keep searching. Send enough men to check the tunnel to be sure he didn't collapse at the other end or something."
They only heard the sounds of movement and the occasional swear from Matt. When others arrived to help with the search, Matt didn't call any of them by name, but he directed a search both around the outside of the bar and through the tunnel.
Tim wished he would identify someone, so they'd know who else to question, but if he did, it was out of range of the bug hidden in Ziva's handbag. Several new voices joined whoever was in the back room, and this time, Matt called them both by name – Barrows and Warren. Neither of them was happy with the loss of the sailor, and Warren threatened Matt's life if he wasn't found.
"Pops!" another voice said. "It's fucking freezing out there."
"It's winter," Warren snapped. "Go to the emergency safehouse and make sure there are enough supplies in case we have to lay low. If this guy talks, the bar won't be an option anymore."
"What do you mean? This is my place of business."
"Barrows, do you think they'll just let you continue serving drinks if they discover you kidnapped a guy from the Navy? Smarten up. We'll have all the Feds down on us, if we don't find him," Warren said.
"What about Josh? He says he's with the FBI. I think it's just to keep us from killing him, but he might know something," Barrows said.
"Josh is the undercover name Sully was using," Ron said excitedly. "He must've identified himself for some reason."
"He's in no shape to talk. Sonny, I told you to go get the supplies," Warren yelled.
All of a sudden, the voices grew muffled and seemed to get further away from the hidden recording device.
"Here," a new voice said. "Found it last night. We're kind of busy here, so you're going to have to leave."
"Oh, thank you so much. My entire life is in this bag." It was Ziva's voice.
"This must be when we got there to pick up the bag. Damn it. If we were just a few minutes later…" Sacks said, deflating.
"It's nothing, miss, but you do need to go," the male voice on the recording sounded.
"Ooh, it smells like a pig. Perhaps that bartender is not as attractive as he appears," Ziva said.
Tim's heart dropped right into his stomach, and he turned wide eyes toward Ron, who was staring back at him with the same stunned expression.
"You need to go, now," the male said, his voice filled with tension and anger.
Holy hell! Ziva was the snitch. Tim's vision elongated, and his hearing dulled. He was going to be sick. Sacks recovered from his shock faster, he stood abruptly and bolted from the office.
Tim knew he was going to find Fornell, but Tim couldn't let that happen. If Fornell found out and did anything before Tim had the chance to warn Gibbs, well, he wouldn't have to worry about his future on the team because Gibbs would kill him.
Author's Note: I was writing this one when Ducky's Memorial episode appeared on modern day NCIS. OMG, when Tony walked in and said, "Autopsy Gremlin!" I actually burst into tears. Didn't he look fantastic? I also liked the black roses with little sculls within all the floral arrangements. Another thrill – Ziva was iced. Woo Hoo! And, we got a McNickname! I loved the last frame with Tony, Jimmy, and Tim in the elevator. I think Ducky would've approved.
It also let me know that my decision to stop watching after Tony left was a good one. Watching paint dry is more exciting than those new characters.
