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Chapter Thirty-One

Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters

The sudden, jarring impact from hitting` the floor stole Tony's breath away. His ribs shrieked in protest so intensely, he saw stars – exploding stars. The tinkling sound of glass landing on the floor sounded absurdly loud in the small hospital room. A second shot quickly followed the first, and he could hear alarmed voices and footsteps approaching the room from the corridor outside.

He tried to warn whoever was coming to stop and take cover, but he couldn't get the words through his labored breathing. His ribs felt as if they were on fire, and when Tim pushed him down, both his cannula and his IV tube were ripped away. His lungs were heartily protesting the sudden lack of oxygen.

"Stay back!" Tim shouted, saying the words Tony couldn't.

The FBI guard who'd been standing outside the door tried to enter anyway before another shot shattered what was left of the window. He had no choice but to fall back.

Tim moved off Tony and pushed the tray table away. Tony couldn't stop his ensuing moan. He felt as if his insides were pressed together in a vice that someone kept tightening. Attempting to breathe normally, rather than in short, shallow pants, increased the pain tenfold. His vision blurred and greyed around the edges as the pain radiated out across his chest.

Tim lifted his head and began to rise, but Tony grabbed his elbow and pulled him back, gritting his teeth while shaking his head. There was no way to know if the sniper was still out there, waiting. They'd have to slide across the floor to get out. Tony just hoped he'd be able to do it. Needing to be rescued from ten feet away would be humiliating.

"There's glass all over the place, not to mention the pieces of my laptop," Tim said, and Tony could hear the dismay in his voice.

Wheezing, Tony tugged at the sheets on the bed, trying to get Tim's attention. The pain in his side was so sharp, he thought he might vomit. That's all they needed – more mess to crawl through. He desperately tried to master himself and force it down.

"Right. We can wrap our hands," Tim said, catching Tony's meaning.

He pulled the sheet fully off the bed, and the pillow came with it, causing Tony's hidden knife to clatter to the floor. Tim gathered the sheet into a bunch, and put it in Tony's good hand. Thankfully, he had the cast so he could rest on his elbow.

"I'll use the pillow," Tim said, and Tony could see the concern shining in his eyes.

He was worried Tony wouldn't be able to do this. Tony couldn't have the Probie doubting his super powers, so he placed his elbow on the bunched-up sheet and gathered the rest into a second heap with plenty of give between the two. He was going to buy Abby a new, studded dog collar for bringing him the dorm pants, otherwise both his knees and his ass would be bare.

Tony could see the stern nurse who'd been monitoring him all day peeking around the corner of the door. She waved her hand at them in a come-hither motion, encouraging them to move. Despite the dire situation, Tony could appreciate the irony, since she'd tried to keep him from moving all day. He could hear the activity in the hallway and was certain security was already on the way. Gibbs was listed as his emergency contact, but he doubted there'd been time to call him.

He really wished Gibbs was there. The boss would probably know what was going on, and who wanted to kill him this time. As far as he knew, Dave Barrows was the last of the bad guys still loose, but Tim was here because Gibbs went to pick Barrows up.

Tony began crawling toward the door, feeling bits of glass falling from his back and crunching beneath his hand as he moved. A few stray pieces fell from his hair, and his arms were shaking like Jell-O. Tim was beside him, but inching along at Tony's tortoise pace. He instinctively knew that Tim had no intention of leaving this room without taking Tony with him.

It made Tony gather his resolve. He couldn't let his injuries prevent Tim from getting out. There was no telling if more shots were to come.

"That's it, you're almost there," Nurse Ratched said encouragingly.

She sounded much nicer than she did earlier when she was stealing his toys and pushing him back into the bed. He probably should think of another nickname.

When he finally reached the door, his guard's bulky arms stretched inside and slid him out the rest of the way, Tim following right behind, kicking the door stop away as he did. The door shut, cutting off the cold wind blowing from the missing window.

Tony leaned against the wall, out of breath, and doing his utmost not to groan. The nurse took his arm, and she was already trying to find a vein to reinsert the IV. Dispassionately, he could see a crimson trail of blood from where the previous one had been torn away, but it didn't seem like it was his own arm. He shut his eyes, not particularly caring what they did to him.

Tim must've pulled out his phone, because he heard him say irritably, "He's not answering. I thought Rule Three is to always be reachable."

Tony wanted to remind him that Gibbs tended to ignore his own rules when it suited him, but he didn't have the energy.

"I'm going to try him again," Tim said.

"I already notified security," the FBI guard said, standing in front of the two downed agents.

Someone put another cannula in his nostrils, and although he'd never admit it, it did make breathing easier. His chest loosened slightly.

"Do you have any additional injuries besides the ones you were admitted with?" a male voice asked, close to his left ear.

Tony tried to catalog exactly where the pain was coming from, but he didn't think there was anything new. Maybe a few more bruises, but it was his ribs that were the issue – ribs and trying to breathe.

"M'fine," he said weakly.

"There wasn't much time, and we went down hard. The idiot is definitely in a lot of pain," Tim said irritably. "You're not fine, Tony."

Tony reached over and weakly patted Tim's knee three times. "Thanks, Probie," he said, meaning far more than just a response to the insult.

"It's what partners do," Tim said quietly. "I still can't reach Gibbs, and he needs to know what happened. Someone just tried to kill you… again."

"Those are my agents. Get the hell out of my way," a familiar, angry voice shouted from the end of the corridor.

Tony chuckled faintly. "Found him."

"Gibbs!" Tim said, scrambling to stand.

Tony's eyes fluttered open, and he watched the boss stride over, his eyes scanning rapidly, inspecting the damage.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Two shots fired through Tony's window. Luckily, I noticed the collimator targeting before the first shot, or it would've hit him in the head. We had to move fast, but neither of us was hit," Tim said shakily.

He sounded as if what just occurred was finally catching up with him, and all the animation drained from his face.

"Wha's… go'n… on, Bsss?" Tony asked, struggling, even with the additional air from the oxygen tank, to get his words out.

A stretcher was rolled in front of them and lowered to the ground alongside where he was sprawled.

The doctor who'd asked him about his injuries said, "We need to get him into X-ray to see if there's any more damage to those ribs."

Before Tony could protest, strong arms encircled him and scooted him right on top of the stretcher, which was then raised back up. The sudden movement gave Tony vertigo, and he had to grab the edge of the stretcher to steady himself. The nausea he'd felt earlier came back in full force. He clenched his lips together, draining their color.

"Stay with me, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Uh, oh. If Gibbs was being nice, he must really look terrible. The stretcher began moving, making him grasp wildly for purchase. Gibbs tightened his grip on Tony's shoulder and didn't let go. Tim mirrored his actions on the other side as they walked alongside the stretcher. Tony was somehow comforted by their presence, and the vertigo began to recede.

"Boss, what are you doing here? I tried calling, but you didn't answer," Tim said. "Did you get Barrows?"

"I was driving," Gibbs said, as if it was obvious why he didn't answer.

Tony could imagine all the road safety rules he broke on his way. But… there certainly hadn't been time to pick Barrows up, get him back to headquarters, and still get here. Tony definitely wasn't firing on all cylinders, but clues were piecing themselves together in his sluggish mind.

"How'd you… know?" he asked dully.

His ability to take a breath had eased, but a huge ball of dread suddenly developed in his belly. He needed to be sure.

Gibbs glanced at the stretcher, steadfast blue eyes meeting wary green. "She made a threat," he said simply.

Tony swallowed; his suspicions confirmed. Ziva. But this time, Gibbs was on his side. Although Tony never trusted her or thought she belonged on the team, it never occurred to him to murder her as a way to get rid of her.

Maybe that was a Mossad thing.

"What? Who made a threat?" Tim asked, his head whipping between the other two.

"Kehoe will fill us in after the doctors are finished," Gibbs said.

They'd reached the doors of Radiology where Tim and Gibbs would have to wait outside. As they wheeled him through the double doors and down the hallway, Tony heard Gibbs bark,

"Get him an inside room when he's done."

/* /* /* /*

Gibbs couldn't sit still, so he paced the corridor outside Tony's new hospital room – which was on the inside wall, without a window. He'd gone and picked up an industrial-strength coffee that was already nearly gone. They hadn't yet brought Tony back from Radiology, and McGee's anxious eyes made him want to head-slap him. He knew it was unreasonable – McGee had every right to be nervous, and Gibbs was certain his simmering anger wasn't helping – but he didn't care.

He was pissed.

He was only going to go over this once, so he wanted both of his agents together when he did. He'd already called Kehoe, and she was on her way to the hospital. When he'd gone for coffee, he'd spoke with one of the LEOs checking the area surrounding the hospital. They hadn't found the sniper, but they believed the shots came from a building across the street that was still under construction. Of course, Ziva – or whichever Mossad operative took the shot for her – would've policed her brass. Ziva was underfoot all day, and he now realized it must've been so she'd have an air-tight alibi.

Before he received Kehoe's frantic call, he and Fornell located Barrows hiding in the basement of a woman's house just outside Philadelphia. They'd only just put the cuffs on him when she informed him about the threat to DiNozzo. She said a hit had already been arranged.

Leaving Fornell to handle the arrest, he raced to the hospital like a man possessed, but he'd been too late. He knew it the moment he reached the hospital and saw an armada of police cars lighting the parking lot.

He could've lost two of his agents today – all at the hand of the third. He couldn't help but feel that he was losing his edge. He'd trusted her, accepted her, welcomed her – even allowed her to give him backtalk that he'd never allow from DiNozzo or McGee.

His gut failed him. It was DiNozzo's gut that was onto her all along, and he'd dismissed it. His own arrogance nearly cost him everything – again.

How could he have been so wrong?

"Boss… do you know what's going on?"

McGee's voice, hesitant but determined, broke him out of his self-recrimination. He nodded curtly.

"I do. Wait for DiNozzo."

McGee clearly wasn't satisfied with the answer, but he accepted it, as Gibbs knew he would. The junior agent also held a Styrofoam cup loosely in his hand, but it was filled with some of that fancy, foo-foo slop that Gibbs detested.

He'd just decided to go for a second cup of real coffee when DiNozzo was wheeled around the corner, quiet and subdued. Gibbs sympathized with what he must be feeling. It couldn't be easy to accept that his partner tried to get him killed – twice. Gibbs hadn't wanted it to come out the way it did, but he should've known DiNozzo's instincts would've already put it together. The younger man turned an ugly shade of green when Gibbs confirmed his suspicions.

"Tony!" McGee said, bouncing up. "How are you?"

"Peachy," Tony snarked as they brought him into his new room and shifted him over to the bed.

DiNozzo didn't fight the assistance, and that told Gibbs all he needed to know about how his second was doing.

"Damage?" Gibbs asked, demanding.

"Nothing new is broken, but definitely some additional bruising. His damaged lung didn't need a needle aspiration, or a chest tube, but we're going to continue to use supplemental oxygen to speed air reabsorption and expansion – so leave that cannula alone," the doctor said, aiming the last bit directly at DiNozzo.

Gibbs knew what a pain-in-the-ass patient he was. He was a pain-in-the-ass on a good day, never mind being stuck somewhere he hated.

"He will," Gibbs said, glaring at DiNozzo to let him know he'd be dealing with him should he remove it.

"We gave him something for the discomfort. I read about his strong reaction to analgesics in his chart, but considering the circumstances, I thought it appropriate," the doctor said.

Gibbs would estimate her age to be mid-forties, with strong, aquiline facial features. He suspected she was far more attractive than she let appear. He also could sense a strong backbone. This wasn't a woman who could be pushed around easily, and he decided it really wasn't worth the effort – the drugs had already been administered.

He would've preferred DiNozzo have a clear head when he went over all he had to tell him, but he also didn't want him to suffer more than he already had.

The doctor glanced at the FBI agent stationed outside DiNozzo's door. "I hope that will be all the excitement for tonight. Mr. DiNozzo needs some rest, so I'll ask that you keep your visit short."

"Agent DiNozzo," Tim corrected.

"Special Agent DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Very Special Agent," Tony said, snickering.

The doctor's lips twitched slightly. "My very special patient still needs his rest."

When she left the room, Gibbs shut the door behind her. He didn't want the guard or anyone else to overhear the conversation they were about to have.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on now? I know you two are keeping something from me, and I think I have the right to know," McGee said at once.

While Gibbs was glad to hear the forcefulness in his tone – he'd been impatient for Tim to lose his inclination toward timidity – he wasn't thrilled that he was directing it towards him.

Gibbs briefly caught DiNozzo's eye, giving him a chance to acknowledge it was time to bring McGee in. At the slight nod, Gibbs began his sitrep.

"I'll tell you what I know. Kehoe is on her way to fill in the gaps."

"Kehoe is in on whatever it is, too?" McGee asked, sounding a little resentful.

Gibbs ignored him. "We arrested Barrows, but I got a call from Kehoe at the site."

"Did Barrows come quietly? He's up on charges… of sex trafficking, too," DiNozzo said.

Gibbs shrugged. "I don't know. I left when Kehoe said there'd been a hit placed on you."

"Who put a hit on him?" McGee asked, eyes wide.

"Where is she?" DiNozzo asked stoically.

Gibbs couldn't tell what was going on behind DiNozzo's emotionless façade. He'd obviously tamped down on any feelings he might have about it all, but Gibbs was certain, with the drugs in his system, they'd emerge sooner rather than later.

"Left her at the crime scene. Fornell said to take the car while he brought Barrows in," Gibbs said.

"Fornell knows, too?" McGee asked.

"So, she doesn't know you're here?" DiNozzo asked.

"Are you talking about Ziva? Does she know whatever it is, too? Why am I the only one who doesn't know what's going on?" McGee asked, his volume increasing.

"If you'd be quiet… for a second, McInsecurity, you'll… hear all about it," DiNozzo said impatiently, his usual humor absent. "Ziva's not in on it. Ziva is it."

DiNozzo was extremely pale, and his entire body was vibrating with anger. Gibbs was concerned one of the medical staff would charge in and demand they leave before Kehoe even arrived.

McGee looked completely perplexed, his face so red that his ears were nearly glowing.

"Ziva put a hit on DiNozzo," Gibbs said bluntly.

McGee's expression didn't change, as if the words were incomprehensible. He just stared at the two of them, frozen.

"She put that… in writing?" DiNozzo asked, disbelief written all over his face.

"Kehoe found it in an encrypted email thread between Ziva and her handler. I didn't get here in time," Gibbs said, familiar guilt twisting in his belly.

"Not your fault, Boss," DiNozzo said, absolving him of any blame.

"I let you down. I should've listened from the start," he said, the closest thing to an apology he could manage.

"What matters is what… happens now," DiNozzo said.

"What d'you mean it was Ziva? What are you talking about?" McGee asked, finally finding his voice.

Gibbs would've preferred if DiNozzo just told the story, but he could see his SFA's eyes becoming glassy, and he was blinking very slowly. The drugs were beginning to take effect.

"DiNozzo didn't think Ziva was really working for NCIS, her loyalty is only to Mossad," he said in the simplest, easiest way possible.

He knew she was guilty, but words like espionage and treason were things he couldn't quite wrap his head around yet.

Right under his nose.

"Abby said you both were suspicious of her," McGee said faintly.

"DiNozzo recorded a few phone conversations and saw something on her computer. Kehoe found it," Gibbs said.

"Kehoe? How did she get involved? Why didn't you ask me if you knew there was something there?" Tim asked, hurt.

"Because she might've… killed you," DiNozzo replied.

Tim shook his head, clearly struggling to fit the pieces together. "If you're right, she could've killed both of you, too. You said she just tried."

"She would've known," Gibbs said.

"How would she know? Does she know that you suspect her? Is that why she did this?" McGee asked.

"McGee, you're a good agent, but you'll never be an undercover operative," Gibbs said, tired of dancing around it.

McGee reared back as if slapped.

"It's not an insult, Probie. We all have… different skill sets. I can't… do everything you can do, but you… can't do everything I… can do. Undercover isn't just… pretending to be someone else. You have to… become someone else. Everything you say, feel, each expression… has to match your new persona. Your face is… too easy to read – and Ziva is an expert… at manipulation," DiNozzo said.

Gibbs was glad DiNozzo found the words. He knew if he'd pointed out the obvious, McGee's feelings might never recover. The junior agent was processing the words, apparently accepting the explanation.

The door opened, and DiNozzo tensed while Gibbs automatically reached for his weapon. Kehoe and Fornell both entered the small, and now very crowded, hospital room. That nurse was going to have a fit.

"How are you doing, DiNoteso, McGee?" Fornell asked, using the Italian pronunciation of DiNozzo's name.

McGee didn't answer, but DiNozzo said, "Still alive."

"Barrows is in lock up. His interrogation can wait. I left Sacks and David at the scene collecting evidence. She'll be alerted when she returns to headquarters and none of us are there," Fornell said.

"So, we need to decide our next move, quickly," Kehoe said.

Gibbs didn't like being told what to do. "Exactly what did you find?" he demanded.

Fornell and Kehoe exchanged glances as if speaking silently, enraging him even further.

"I got a translation off the tape DiNozzo recorded, and my co-worker was able to decrypt the files on David's computer. She's been transferring classified intel on terror cells in the Middle East, along with names of undercover operatives and their assignments to Mossad," Tina said.

"You have it all documented… and verified?" DiNozzo asked, shaking his head slightly, attempting to clear the fog his meds were inducing.

"Well, her words are documented, along with her prints on the computer where she attempted to access FBI intel, but the verification within NCIS will have to be done in-house," Tina said.

"I could do that," McGee said.

"No. Absolutely no one else from your team can be involved any further. The FBI will take it from here. DiNoteso's involved because he started this, but we need everything to be completely above board, and therefore impartial. I need to hand it all over to my superiors before she catches on and attempts to destroy any evidence," Fornell said.

"The problem exists on my team, and I'll deal with it," Gibbs said, knowing he needed to get in front of it before NCIS's entire reputation was smeared.

"But you haven't, and once what's on those tapes is revealed, the decision will be taken out of either of our hands. You have to know that. This is FBI jurisdiction, and you're all too close. The US takes espionage very seriously," Fornell said.

"Ya think?" Gibbs asked snidely.

There was no way he was going to let them try and arrest Ziva and have her escape because they underestimated her. He knew what she was capable of better than any of them.

"Look, once NSA and Homeland get involved – and they will – NCIS is going to be shut down until we can figure out what information was leaked. Your director placed her on your team, bypassing channels, so how involved she is will have to be investigated," Fornell said.

Gibbs scowled, but he knew Fornell was right. He'd love to be able to claim that Jenny would never allow anything underhanded if she'd been aware, but he couldn't truthfully do that. He was well-acquainted with her ambition, and there's not much she would allow to interfere with achieving her goals. In an ironic twist of fate, her actions, once revealed, will torpedo any future political career.

He nodded regretfully. "I want to be there when Ziva's arrested."

Fornell heaved a well put-upon sigh. "Fine, but just you. I want your people out of the way."

"Abby," DiNozzo said suddenly, looking both confused and alarmed.

Gibbs suspected he'd already lost his train of thought.

"She's safe. I sent her back to NCIS after she delivered the tape," Gibbs said.

"Abby knew about this, too?" McGee yelped, outraged.

DiNozzo nodded. "That's good. She can't… lie to save her soul."

"We should head back. Kehoe, gather everything, and I'll let you know where to send it," Fornell said.

"There's one more thing you need to know," Kehoe said, staring at Gibbs and appearing as if she'd rather do anything else.

Gibbs' gut tightened. "What?"

"Eli David ordered the hit on Agent Todd. He wanted a space on your team so he could insert one of his people. There is no proof Ziva knew anything about it, but it is possible, and there's enough Probable Cause to question her," Kehoe said.

Sucker punched, Gibbs mind flashed back to those awful weeks after Kate's death, and the paralyzing guilt he'd felt. He remembered when Ziva first arrived, how she insisted on taking over Kate's desk as if it was her right.

"She's gone, Gibbs."

It seemed so diabolical now.

"What?" McGee asked, the color draining from his face.

"She's a mouse. Always knew… she was a mouse," DiNozzo growled, his hand absently moving to the side of his face.

He'd said this before, when he was also under the influence of pain medication, and Gibbs suddenly realized what he meant.

"Mole, not a mouse," he said flatly, not amused in the slightest that it was a mistake Ziva might've made.

"Thas what I said," DiNozzo answered crossly.

Enough! The time for plotting was done. Now, it was time to act.

"McGee, you stay here with DiNozzo until its done," Gibbs said, concerned that since the hit was unsuccessful, there could be another attempt.

He needed to protect both of them.

"Are we going back to DC afterwards?" McGee asked.

"I don't think DiNozzo can handle the car ride," Gibbs said, glancing over at DiNozzo who was staring intently at the end of his bed in a daze.

All Gibbs could think about was the arrest. He'd think about a retreat when it was finished.

"Once it's done and wrapped up, you take the NCIS sedan and start back," Fornell said to McGee. "I'll have your hotel room cleared and return your things. I think I can manage a couple of extra seats on the plane. It's quite comfy. DiNoteso should be able to handle that."

DiNozzo sniggered. "I picked the wrong week… to quit painkillers."

"You're high as a kite, DiNozzo," Gibbs said irritably,

"No. I think it's a line from the movie Airplane," Fornell said, smirking.

"Boss, are you sure they'll release him?" McGee asked, looking at DiNozzo doubtfully.

Gibbs had no intention of asking. He'd get him released, and when they returned to DC, take him straight to Bethesda. DiNozzo thought they were keeping him here because they were going overboard with his lung issues. Dr. Pitt could answer that better than anyone here. DiNozzo didn't need to know that yet.

"We should go," Kehoe said.

DiNozzo was again staring fixedly at a spot at the end of his bed.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked.

"That darn cat… is back," he said, still staring.

McGee rolled his eyes. "Tony, there's no cat."

"He's right there," DiNozzo said, pointing. "Big orange fellow, he's blinking… at me. Real slow. I think he's trying… to tell me something."

"Yeah, that you're high as a kite," Fornell said.

Note: Thanks to Acrwdolf1 for direction and assistance with laws, military procedure, and consequences. Feedback is always appreciated.