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 Eight, wrack the brain
Previously on NCIS
"Usted debe ayudar! Usted es nuestra última esperanza! You must help us! You are our last hope!"
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"What must I help you with? Who else are you talking about? Talk to me, Yonta! Háblame!"
"Not here! I can not spend too much time here, I am followed. This is a, como se dice, how do you say, 'quemar número de teléfono?"
"Burn phone number," Supplied Tony, at this point not even curious about how she knew about them or had gotten her hands on one.
"Si, a burn phone number," she said, as she hurriedly wrote a phone number down on a piece of paper.
"Call this number esta noche a las once."
"Eleven o'clock tonight, right."
"Si. I will throw it away once I use it. I must go! Gracias, Señor." And the almost desperate woman, who had entered the room as though her life depended on it, took a deep yoga breath, steadied her nerves and walked from the room calmly sedate.
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Tony stayed around another half hour talking to his treadmill partner and getting her number before leaving the premises to give Yonta a good head start if there were men trailing her, of which he had no doubt.
It was late when he got back to the office. Gibbs was at his desk using a red pen to mark up somebody's report or other. McGee sat correcting his report and Ziva's report was on her desk though the female agent was not. Tony figured his report was the one Gibbs was massacring so vigorously.
"Took you long enough, DiNozzo."
Great, Tony thought, Gibbs is in a grumpy mood. He'd called and given him an update, what more did he want?
"What are you guys still doing here?"
"Waiting for you, DiNozzo, what'd ya think?"
"Oh yeah, right. Well, I missed lunch and dinner so I stopped and got a pizza if that's okay," he snapped back. He'd not only got a pizza from Mom and Pop but a full coarse Italian dinner and two hours of a catnap when he laid his head on the table half way through his meal and fell asleep.
"Fine, DiNozzo, but while you were stuffing your face, Senior was having a temper tantrum downstairs." Gibbs was slowly tapping his pen on the desk, a sure sign of his annoyed impatience, before throwing it to the side and reaching into his top desk drawer. "Here's the envelope you left for Senior. Gary thought it prudent to bring it up here."
"What the hell, happened? He was just supposed to get his money and leave!"
Tony took the envelope then went behind his desk to sit and, undercover of slipping the envelope in his inner jacket pocket and putting his gun and badge away, closed his eyes in a moment of sheer frustrated helplessness. He couldn't get that old man out of his life. And he wanted him out, permanently.
"What happened?" He repeated and slammed the drawer shut with a bang harder than he expected .
"Ah, Tony...he's in lockup." Tim said uncomfortably. "Drunk and disorderly. Gary in security tried to get him to walk it off before handing over the envelope you left but Senior insisted he wanted it now. Gary wanted some ID and took a thumbprint before handing over the envelope and that infuriated Senior further.
"Gary said that when Senior got a look inside the envelope he lost it altogether. He was screaming about the cashier's check in the envelope being a worthless piece of paper, not cash and started accusing you and Gary of stealing all his money. He tried slugging Gary with a water bottle he'd been drinking out of and spilled what turned out to be Vodka not water all over the floor and Gary. Gary managed to take him down without too much fuss. That's when he was detained and locked up, yelling, kicking and screaming. Eventually he passed out and is sleeping it off in a holding cell now."
Tim had gotten all the bad news out in one breath without his coworkers trying to hurry him up or shut him down.
"Is Gary alright?"
"That old curmudgeon is fine," said Gibbs who suspected the man didn't like him much but for the life of him, didn't know why.
"Yeah," Tim said. "Gary called up here while you were out to tell you what was going on. He said Senior was asking to talk to Ziva so she had gone down to see what he wanted."
"Of course she did," said Tony as he dialed the burn phone number, dismissing his father and his issues and Ziva and her's from his mind for the present.
"I'm making the call now and putting it on speaker phone. Yonta speaks excellent English but it seems when she's upset she reverts to her Native tongue Spanish so..."
"Then it is a good thing I have returned," announced a self-assured and composed Ziva as she came to stand by Tony's desk. "I will act as interpreter and perhaps we can get to the bottom of this mystery with this maiden in distress you have acquired, yes, Tony?"
"She's married, Ziva." The phone had rung several times and by the time it reached ten rings Tony was anxiously convinced that something had gone wrong and no one would answer.
"Ah, married. You are a knight in shining armor, meaning your conscious will bother you so you will not preposition her?"
"It's proposition. And no, meaning she's a married woman not a maiden or damsel and I'm the fairy tale prince not the knight.
Seeing the confusion that marred Ziva's face, Tony got the grimmest of satisfaction considering the circumstances. Her insults were never ending and straightforward, very easy to understand. As though he had it in him to stoop so low and further traumatize the victim; preposition her, indeed!
But he got back at her, sometimes leaving her confused and befuddled over what he said and its meaning. Her inability to discern the fanciful limited her clear understanding of his nonsensical uttering's because she didn't have the imagination to go beyond Mossad 101 to his Peter Panish delight.
"What do you mean...?" She started, before someone finally answered the burn phone.
"Hola, Tony?"
"Si, Yonta. Gort Klaatu Barada Nikto."
They continued in Spanish with Yonta accepting the ridiculous code words before asking him repeatedly to wait, saying someone was coming, and that person would be in extreme danger if it were found out what they were doing. It was obvious after a few minutes of conversation that Tony was fluent in Spanish and Ziva had egg on her face again.
"Aguarde por favor."
"I'm waiting, Yonta."
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Finally, a different woman's voice came on the line and bemoaned,"Tony, oh, Tony!"
Peggy Stratum aka Margaret Ringold sounded desperate. She paused and caught her breath and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger, determined.
"Please, don't say anything,Tony, let me tell you this quickly as I can not stay on the phone long. Jorge Carlson is Yonta's son. His father was stationed in Cartagena where he met Yonta and they got married and had Jorge. Jorge and I met when I was in boarding school where Yonta worked as an art teacher. We grew up and fell in love and were engaged to be married.
"Jorge's father was killed in a helicopter accident and we moved back to the States. Jorge served as a seal and then joined the FBI. I got my PHD, then was hired by the NSA."
Here she paused and Tony heard a sob quickly silenced as though to continue was unbearable but necessary.
"Tony...the worst day of my life happened. I was out with some friends, just for drinks and dinner maybe a little dancing later. Oh god, Tony, Shane Ringold approached my table to greet some people he knew then on my way back from the ladies room he stepped in front of me and said he had been watching me at other functions and thought we could have fun together. He was drunk, said I should leave the group I was with and go 'party,' with him. I said no, I was in a relationship, but he was pretty persistent wouldn't let me pass until a security guard came up and escorted me back to my friends. They didn't make Shane leave, he owned the restaurant, so I and my friends left.
"I thought that was the end of it, Tony, but the next day, I got a card and flowers sent to my office and after that gifts were sent to my home. He had my work and home addresses and even got my cell phone number. He kept sending me these expensive gifts, scarves, jewelry, purses. I kept returning them but he didn't take the hint. Finally, I told him to stop harassing me or I'd call the police, which I ended up doing and I didn't go in blind. I had documentation and witnesses. He had money and got off with a wrist slap.
"Two years went by with nothing from Shane. Then Jorge went undercover and we didn't know how long he'd be gone or where he was going. And somehow, Shane found out and he came back."
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The team listened quietly without interruption letting her talk at her own pace. Shane Ringold had come back into Peggy's life with a vicious bang, vindictive and determined to have what he wanted no matter the circumstances.
"Tony, he told me he knew where Jorge was and what he was doing. He showed me pictures of him in prison uniform behind bars and in the exercising area. He said he knew Jorge was undercover and all it would take was one phone call and Jorge would be brutally tortured and then murdered in the prison. He said I could run to the FBI but they wouldn't be able to get to him in time, he'd be dead before they could find the key to unlock his cell door. And he bragged about knowing what Jorge's assignment was, trying to prevent another prisoner from getting access to a nuclear bomb ready to detonate over a major city in the US.
"Shane said the only way to keep Jorge safe was that I become Mrs Shane Ringold. I was horrified. I secretly met with Jorge's best friend at the FBI, or at least I thought it was secret, and told him what was going on. He said he'd help, make discrete inquires. Tony, two days later Jorge's friend was dead, struck by a hit-and-run car in the morning hours.
"I married Shane the next day in Vegas."
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"Peggy, will you be alright there, you and Yonta, while we figure out what to do?"
"Yes, we will be alright. Shane thinks he has the upper hand. He thinks I am afraid of him and that I will never go against him. I hate him passionately and if not for Jorge, I would kill him now, stab him in the chest this moment and gut him and slash his heart to shreds...but enough. I can't expose him, Tony, he said his associates would have Jorge killed if anything happened to him. I am not a coward!" She cried out decisively, with strength of steel in her voice.
"But my hands are tied." She continued. "Jorge's life is at stake but I can not ignore the threat to the Country either. I can't make the decision to expose that threat and get Jorge killed, I can not do it!" She sobbed over the phone at her wits end and desperate and he heard Yonta's voice in the background trying to comfort her.
"Will you help us?" Yonta eventually came back on the line to plead for help, not for her, but for the safety of her family.
"Yes, Yonta, Peggy, we're going to help, you are not alone in this. How do I reach you again?"
"We have another burn phone. Here is Peggy, she will give you the new password."
"Sorry, Tony." Peggy's voice on the line again was strained but strong.
"Its just such a relief, knowing there is someone to talk to...to help. But, anyway, here's the new password, 'Bond, James Bond'."
Tony's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Good choice, Peggy." And they both laughed a little, just a touch of humor, a little comic relief from the stress.
Tony hung up the phone after promising to call back tomorrow same time.
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After the line went dead, no one spoke but everyone turned to look at Gibbs. The enormity of this case was evident to everyone and what could go wrong and what was at stake. Gibbs didn't need a long time to think.
"I'm calling Fornell! They've got a leak somewhere over there in their vaunted Hoover building and that leak is in touch with someone in the prison who is keeping Ringold informed about the FBI's undercover agent and the secret op that isn't so secret, dammit!"
Gibbs dialed Fornell's number hoping he woke him up from a sound sleep with happy dreams and his team listened in on the one-sided conversation.
"You've got a leak or a mole, Tobias, so no, it couldn't wait! Yeah, it's that bad that I had to wake you up, at least you're home and asleep. Shane Ringold knows all about your undercover agent in prison. Your undercover agent's partner, the hit-and-run victim...it was murder.
"Thought you'd think so. Expect you here in the morning, 0900 is fine."
"I know it's important but my team hasn't gone to bed yet so don't bother coming over here now or any earlier, we won't be here."
Gibbs hung up without a goodbye and looked over at his waiting team. "You heard me, go home. Be back at nine. Find out about this best friend of Carlson's. Hit and run, right! I don't like coincidences because there is no such thing."
"What about you, Boss?" Tim said as he closed down and packed up.
"Right behind you after I call Vance. Might as well wake him up too."
"And Senior?" Tony asked quietly.
"What about him, DiNozzo? He's locked up for legitimate reasons. You want him cut loose?" asked an irritated Gibbs.
Equally irritable, Tony answered back shortly, "Yeah, I want him cut loose...to fall off the face of the planet! But that's not going to happen so..."
"Then he'll stay where he is tonight and let a judge decide tomorrow if there are no objections!" was Gibbs' curt response.
"No, none," said Tony with no heat. No sense in taking his frustration out on Gibbs. Senior could stay locked up for life, which in Tony's opinion was a just punishment for what he had done those many years ago but Tony immediately cut that thought from his mind, he wasn't going down that path again. Funny how he could take down the vilest of criminals but couldn't take down the veil covering his father's misdeeds without a major fugue attack and deep despondency.
Tony headed out behind McGee and David arriving at the elevator just as the doors opened. The three rode down together, all pretty exhausted from the long stressful day at work.
"I am sure you are interested in what your father wanted, Tony, no?" Ziva glanced at Tony straight on, a bold, all encompassing look. She had knowledge he was sure to want.
"Shall we three stop for a coffee and I will tell you about it?"
She would bring Senior up, thought Tim. Didn't they have enough angst? "Not me unless the coffee cup is bed-size and I can crawl into it with a blanket."
"Do you know how weird that sounds, McCounting sheep? Can you drive home in the state you're in?" Tony made fun of Tim around a huge gaping yawn.
"Look who's talking, DiNozzo." But Tim was too tired to argue the point further.
Unbelievably, Tony was not answering, was he refusing her offer? "Am I to understand that you are not interested enough in what your father had to say to take me up on my offer of a coffee break, Tony? I will pay."
Tony turned and stared down at her with narrowed eyes as though the cost of an eight ounce cup of coffee was an Einstein moment to be considered, calculated and retained or rejected. Ziva was uncomfortably aware of his close scrutiny but managed not to show it. She wondered what he was really thinking with such a closed off expression. It frustrated her that she could not penetrate that dense skin of his and read him. Who would have thought it possible of Mr Meatball?
Inhaling deeply, Tony finally broke his intense gaze and looked away from her, staring at the double doors of the elevator instead.
"You've got that right, Ziva, for a change. I'm not interested. So unless you want to tell me here and now what you think you know about Senior than I'm not sticking around for a cup of coffee or anything else and I'll see you tomorrow."
"I am somewhat confused, Tony. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, that is a universal truism, yes? Senior is obviously your enemy but I, acting as a go-between, could perhaps help resolve some of your thinly disguised but mutual antipathy towards each other and..."
"Who is acting as go-between for your thinly disguised but mutual antipathy towards Director Eli David, Ziva? Look up the word hypocrite. I'd say neither one of us should attempt to go that route, 'yes'?" He mocked.
Which statement, of course, had Ziva's hackles up and temper ready to fly. But not wanting to get into it any further with this woman who failed anger management each and every time, Tony tried, once again, to warn her off Senior.
"Look, Ziva. My father is a con artist, true to his nature like a snake, a python who'll swallow you whole, the best at what it does and I've heard it all before. Don't be taken in by his smooth talk. He's got your number already, he knows exactly how much he can get from you before using you up and throwing you away."
He saw her stubbornly start to reject his hurried advice knowing he had to get it all out before she cut him off. To sidestep any argument because the facts weren't up to debate, he walked out of the opening elevator door with his warning parting words thrown over his shoulder.
"He's bad news, Ziva, but you do what you want. Just don't try to involve me!"
With that, Tony stormed off to his car, with the unmistakeable warning to leave him alone.
Ziva looked around but McGee had disappeared too. Her plan to cause a little mischief with Tony the butt of the joke had failed but there was always tomorrow. She had known before the animosity between Senior and Tony went deep but now, she had finally found the one thing that seemed to rattle Tony and cause him to respond. DiNozzo Senior was his Achilles heel. With that knowledge, before long, she'd have the ammunition she needed to lead Tony DiNozzo, Jr around by his nose ring at her command.
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