Disclaimer: no legal rights to NCIS, no money being made.
Beta: Mike91848. So all mistakes are mine.
Warning: same as Chapter One
DETERMINED TO HOLD
Chapter Five, Butter wouldn't melt...
Previously on NCIS
"We found your father, DiNozzo, or rather, he found us."
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Senior saw Tony about the same time Tony set his eyes on Senior and the older man's only reaction was a narrowed-eyed squint. Tony's reaction, on the other hand, was more visceral knot twisting. His ravenous appetite disappeared, his stomach curled in a tangled mess and his hackles rose in ever present anger at the sight.
"Mr DiNozzo, please come this way," Vance directed. "Agent McGee, show Mr DiNozzo's companion to one of the conference rooms, please."
Vance was using his authority as the Director of NCIS to keep things moving and not allowing any interruptions due to a show of temper, overblown egos, or downright bad manners.
"Gibbs, with me." When Gibbs started up the stairs and Tony attempted to follow, Vance stepped in front of him in an obvious delaying tactic. DiNozzo wasn't going up those stairs without some hard-knock ground rules.
"What I expect from you, Agent DiNozzo, if you go up those stairs," said Vance, "is that you control your temper and act like an agent not a pissed-off kid throwing a hissy fit because daddy won't let him use the car. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, Sir!"
Vance studied him for a moment then stepped aside and let DiNozzo proceed him up the stairs after he dumped his box of food. Vance shook his head in bemusement as he followed at a more sedate pace. From the way things were going around there, no one would blame him for sometimes wondering if he was running an agency staffed with adult, highly intelligent men and women, or a class full of recalcitrant fifteen-year old brats.
Speaking of which, intelligent but now feeling all but invisible Ziva David sat fuming like a fifteen-year old brat, only much more deadly with an arsenal of weapons. She had been overlooked and forgotten, again, left to sit and idle while the big boys took care of the big business. She should have been invited to go up there. DiNozzo Senior would have been a piece of cake for her to break and crumble into little pieces and gut him until the information they wanted spilled out. She could have sat with the woman with the beady-eyed rat-dog but that position had been given to McGee who would skipper and bow to the female with silly unnecessary talk about the weather and lying flattery about her ugly dog.
To top it off, the idiot Tony had annoyed Vance into letting him attend the so-called meeting with the scum father who was in the hump seat again, and she was left to babysit...the telephones, her apparent slot in life. Yes, she had reason to fume.
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Upstairs, Vance's secretary had the three men waiting in his outer office by the time he arrived.
"Hold my calls, Rene."
"What brings you to NCIS, Mr DiNozzo?" Vance started once the men had found seats at the conference table.
Senior eyed Vance and Gibbs appraisingly while unsubtly ignoring the other man in the room.
"You might well ask that, Director Vance, since the last time I was here, you wanted to lock me up and throw away the key. However, under the circumstances, I won't ask for an apology although if one were to be forthcoming, among other things, by a representative of the NCIS..."
Senior waited expectedly, cordially, unctuous and phony, for that apology he deemed he was owed. Tony became more incensed at the audacity, first showing up unannounced and than expecting a 'sorry', instead of the thrashing he deserved. Not able to hold it in any longer, Tony jumped out of his seat in a flash of heat and spark and snarled at Senior.
"The Director asked you a question old man, answer him!"
"Agent DiNozzo!" Vance sat stiffly back in his chair. "One more outbreak from you DiNozzo and I'll ask you to leave!" His raised voice burned coal hot, too.
Tony raised his hands, enough said, though his glare at Senior never wavered. "Won't happen again, Director."
"See that it doesn't!"
Half-suppressed laughter had everyone turning to look at Senior whose toothy smile and amused eyes stared back at them.
"Still acting out, Junior? Well, really, what can you expect?" he chuckled.
"After all, he has no more control of his emotions than he did as a child. Though I did take time out of my busy schedule to try to teach him to have some pride in himself and be aware of his, shall we say, wealthy elite status. Still, he always felt that crawling in dirt was a better way of life for him even as a child, why look at the profession he chose to devote his life to."
No one in the room missed the sly innuendo and insult aimed at them and their chosen profession and no one cared. And if Senior thought pretending to be the loving benevolent father overlooking the faults of a cantankerous child would endear him to them, he was deluded.
An astute Director Vance had learned from the best how to deal with difficult personalities. An apology, and who knew what else, would not be given to this worm of a man no matter how much information he thought he had to barter with. Men like Senior, take away their feeling of having the upper hand and they'd fold like the bellows of an accordion.
"You're not getting an apology from NCIS or me, Mr DiNozzo, and until and unless you tell us why you're here or at least something relevant, you won't be receiving anything else, either. As a matter of fact, this meeting is over, now! And I'd advise you to call and make an appointment the next time you feel the need to come in and disrupt this office! Good day!"
Director Vance rose from his seat and the other two men followed suit though Tony rather reluctantly until he saw the other men's faces and realized that neither a discerning Gibbs nor Vance had taken the bait. It just made it more apparent that Senior was a slippery, egotistical, self-absorbed scoundrel who cared for no one but himself, certainly not his son.
"Hold on, just a minute!" Senior proved predictable turning apoplectic and panicky at the thought of losing his edge, of overextending his reach for the gold ring and falling off the merry-go-round horse instead.
"Alright,you've made your point no need to get hasty. Let's get down to the brass tacks here." Senior's voice had hardened and turned mean.
"I flipped open a phone I had and some woman said she had vital information I needed to look into.
"Now, you've got some money that belongs to me! Specifically, the loot you found at my mansion! My mansion, in spite of what someone else might claim! Millions wasn't it? I know the waiting period's over and it's been released from Federal jurisdiction. I want it! Legally, it belongs to me and you have no right to keep it from me!"
Gibbs managed not to avert his eyes from Senior to look over at Tony who sat surprisingly calm in his chair listening attentively to Senior's rampage with a speculative look on his face.
Vance, however, glanced surreptitiously at Tony through lowered eyes, hadn't the agent already claimed that money? Although Vance felt like he was swimming upstream, he took his cue from Tony and filled in smoothly.
"That can be arranged, Mr DiNozzo. I understand the money was released from jurisdiction just a few days ago. You want the money, we'll make it easy for you to get it," he promised, not knowing whether that was even possible.
"So, how'd you get a hold of my phone?" Tony questioned knowingly though to Vance and Gibbs the question came seemingly out of the blue.
"How did you...?" blurted Senior looking annoyed.
"It's an old one, I presume, flips open? The one you stole from me during an unauthorized visit to my apartment. Baltimore, wasn't it? Robbed while I was on stakeout, some jewelry, electronics, even found my safe. Broke into it and stole about twenty thousand. How far did that money get you? I'm assuming you kept the phone open by claiming you were me and paying the monthly bill, and stupid me, I never checked. More importantly, though, who called you on said phone and what did they want?"
Though Senior was stone-faced about how Tony had caught on about the phone so quickly, his look turned smug.
"I wouldn't call it robbery, so gauche, Junior. You owe me plenty for taking..."
"Who called you!" Tony repeated loudly.
"Watch it, Junior! I don't take orders from you, never have and never will, you should know that by now!"
Senior leaned back comfortable in his chair and leisurely removed his expensive pocket watch to check the time. The diamond studded gold ring he wore on his right forth finger was surprisingly tastefully made. Tony was on the man in seconds, the watch went flying when he slapped it out of Senior's hand and it crashed to the floor and broke into pieces. He held the sputtering Senior in his place by placing his hands on the arms of his chair and leaning forward into his space. Tony wanted to shake the words out of Senior but shook the arms of the chair once instead.
"Perche non ha colpito me cosi posso chiudere in su in prigione per copier un funzionario del Governo Federale."
Tony's switch to Italian startled Vance into another revelation about the Senior Field Agents life though he didn't know why he should be surprised, the man was Italian after all. Vance promised himself again he would find the time to go over all of his agents personnel files especially the MCRT less there be anymore surprises he had missed.
Senior shoved his chair back and got up brushing Tony out of his way.
"Bastardo, scappare lontano da me!" Senior warned hotly.
Vance kept his seat but held his breath afraid physical blows would be next. If this didn't get violent Vance would let Tony run with it. He shared a glance with Gibbs who seemed of the same mind willing to let things proceed but remaining on alert. And anyway, Tony was pissed at the older man but certainly not out of control as he demanded in Italian once again.
"Quindi hispondere alla domanda!"
"Answer the question?" Senior repeated in English as he straightened his tie.
"Or what?" he taunted Tony arrogantly. "What're you going to do if I don't? You're paying for that watch, by the way." Senior adjusted his suit before retaking his seat, he had the upper hand.
At Tony's threatening move towards him, Senior caved, not sure the other men would hold the irate Agent back. His lip curled and he spat out, "Some woman, I assume, with a deep voice who barely spoke English. Who knows who it was, who cares? She wouldn't give her name and I wasn't interested in finding it out. She thought I was you, said that was the only phone number she had for you and she wanted to give you a message."
Senior's look became calculating as he changed the subject and addressed his real objective.
"I know you've got that money, Junior. You want to know what else she said, you hand it over. It's mine, legally, in every sense of the word and you had no right to put your dirty hands on it."
Tony's smile was predatory. "Actually, it's only half your's and I had every intention of letting you have it...but now...let me suggest you spill what you know and I won't keep you tied up in court for however many years that would take, or better yet, you'll probably die before me of old age anyway, I'll just wait it out in court."
Senior's ruddy complexion suffused with more color. "I told you what I know, damn you! Some woman called warning about some crime to be committed that would take a lot of lives. She said some guy was in Folsom Prison for life but he had a whole network of loyal lieutenants and hired guns, and she mentioned the name Carlson. Now, that's all I Know!"
"When did you receive this call?" Vance broke in.
Senior shrugged his shoulder negligently as he glared at the Director. "How should I know, a month, two? I don't remember."
"And the phone?" Tony held out his hand. Senior's look of malevolence got even more intense when he turned his sights on his son again but he didn't utter another word, just reached inside his jacket pocket and produced the phone, an older model flip open cell. Senior leaned over and tossed the phone on the table where it landed dead center with a clattering clunk.
"Now you've got what you wanted, when can I expect the money?"
"Write your bank account number down, it'll be deposited today."
"What?! You think I'm a fool? Trust you with my back account numbers, really Junior?"
"Yeah, I thought so." Tony agreed philosophically, and reached for the phone and pocketed it.
"But I don't blame you, though, really, cause you never know who might hire someone to do a thorough background check, dig for the dirt and find all the loopholes and back doors where you hide your dough from the IRS and anyone else you've cheated out of their money.
"You might even find someone has broken into your place and riffled through your stuff, put their grubby paws on everything, steal anything they can get their hands on, and trash the rest of the place." Tony shook his body in disgust, one quick movement as though to shed Senior's presence like a dog shedding muddy, rank water.
"A cashier's check will be waiting downstairs at the front desk lobby in about three hours. Show your ID, get your money, then get out!" Tony ordered. He turned gracefully and headed to the door. His hand was on the knob when Senior had one last question.
"How much?"
"Why, half, of course, of the four million minus the two hundred thousand or so you stole from me on several occasions in money and electronics and the mental anguish you caused when you broke into my places. Plus, the Federal Government will get their share in income taxes."
Tony noted and expected Senior's scowl. "I'd advise you not to get any more greedy than you already are. Accept that money as is or you still might find your windfall more trouble than it's worth."
"I'll get this to Abby," said Tony to Vance not allowing for any response from Senior. He stepped through the door and closed it quietly with a soft snick.
"Well, I guess we're done here." Senior couldn't have sounded more satisfied or looked more pleased than the cat with canary feathers in his mouth and a white foamy lip from quenching his thirst in a broken bowl of cream on the floor.
"Who's the woman waiting for you downstairs?" asked Gibbs noting the man's gloating swagger. For some reason he felt proud of Tony for his self restraint in dealing with his scumbag of a father. It'd be easy to wipe that superior, 'I'm smarter than everyone in this room,' look off his face with a sniper's rifle butt.
"Gibbs!" chastised Vance as though he could read the lead agent's mind."
"It's quite alright, Director, I can answer that. I admit she's just a bimbo..uh daughter of a friend of mine, princess really with a boatload of money. I'm showing her the town right now, that is after I get my check and I'm staying at the Adams house in case you have any further questions."
Vance was at the stage where he wanted what Gibbs wanted, a Mike Tyson punch to Senior's smug face and the satisfied sound of broken cartilage.
"And speaking of which, I will be on my way if someone will escort me out. I know how much protocol means to you military types." Senior couldn't have said it with more disrespect. He stood, and there were no other words for it, preened and strutted as he started for the door.
"How'd you know about the money? Who told you?" That question was still not answered and appeared it would not be as Senior turned to sneer at Gibbs.
"For me to know, Agent Gibbs, but maybe I have a spy here at your vaunted agency. Hahaha." Senior laughed all the way out the door where a security guard would escort him to his lady friend than out of the building.
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Tony left the Director's office feeling contaminated and slimy. Always a factor in dealing with Senior, he came away feeling the need for a few showers and by the end of the day, sitting in a decontamination chamber for a few hours wouldn't hurt either.
Tim and Ziva were at their desks and looked up expectantly when Tony returned.
"Everything okay up there," Tim asked concerned.
"Fine! Look up the name Carlson and Folsom prison, get everything you can on this guy ASAP." McGee started typing on his keys.
"McGee, since Tony is playing at being the boss, why don't you tell him what you learned about his father's very young companion." Ziva teased.
Tony didn't refute the boss part, technically, she was right. "Let me guess," said Tony to deprive her of her dig. "She's his fiancé or his relatively new wife and her mother is Senior's ex-lover. She's possibly pregnant having the pool guy's baby and passing it off as Senior's or she's Senior's daughter and my half-sister and unbeknownst to her is having an incestuous relationship with her father. Or it could be some or all of the above. No big secret about that, Ziva, anything's possible with that man. I'm going to see Abby."
A confused expression crossed Ziva's face. Tony's list of Senior's faults had disarmed her thunder not because they might not be true but because he had admitted to them and had dismissed them as meaning nothing to him.
"She's not pregnant, is she?" Was all Ziva could muster to say but Tony just kept walking away.
"Is any of that true?" She looked to Tim for an answer
"Do you care, Ziva, really?" Tim didn't know anything about Senior and any speculation about the man could be left to Ziva if she was so inclined. He on the other hand would take the bull by the horns and hope that he wasn't making a big mistake.
"I'll be right back." Tim told Ziva before jumping up to follow Tony down to the lab. He made sure his computer programs were in searching mode before he left and the alert would go off on his phone if and when they found this Carlson.
He heard Ziva demand, "McGee, where are you going?!" but he just made for the elevator without answering. As it was, he missed the elevator by seconds so took the stairs instead and managed to arrive in Abby's lab not too long after Tony.
Ziva sat in the bullpen alone wondering what had just happened. Obviously, Tony could not take a joke. In a way, she missed the days past when Tony was...friendlier, had a thicker hide, put up with or overlooked some of her more challenging words. Now, he just turned his back and did not respond. She was...
...Suddenly, Ziva felt eyes on her but when she turned around, no one was there. Her critical eyes looked for subterfuge in all the corners but she saw nothing, however, the sense of being watched got heavier and was rather unpleasant. She searched the immediate area again, not turning her head but subtly moving her eyes and caught a glimpse of movement from above. Finally, she glanced up and just caught sight of Senior scurrying away from the glass railing to follow the security guard to the elevator.
She felt uncomfortably exposed and vulnerable with the senior DiNozzo in their midst again. Not only for hiding her knowledge of Senior's whereabouts in their last case but for the potential of being blackmailed by Senior himself. Because somehow Senior had found out that she had been the one who had had him followed and had not told the team, she just knew it. Tony's subsequent beating by several thugs and his hospital stay were directly the result of her holding back that information.
Even now, though she felt she was being paranoid, but she suspected that Tony knew this and probably Gibbs suspected as well but as yet they had no proof. Senior held her future in his hands. He was dangerous to her continued survival here on the job and her life style here away from Israel, her father and Mossad. She was not willing to give that up.
Beware, Senior! she vowed to herself. No one would take this life away from her without suffering the consequences...her way.
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A/N Italian translation from Google (sorry for any errors)
Tony: Why don't you hit me so I can have you locked up in jail for striking a Federal Government agent.
Senior: "You bastard, get away from me!"
Tony: "Then answer the question!"