Chapter 14
Pain was all he knew.
His lungs constricted, making it hard to take in a full breath and the burning in his muscles was ceaseless as his torture continued unabated.
“Stop...Stop....Please...You're killing me.” Tony tried to wheeze out between breaths before he trotted to a walk then dramatically fell down onto the grass, the last of his energy and drive spent.
Quite certain that the end was near, he prayed out loud:
“Dear God, please just kill me now!”
A dark shadow loomed over him with a menacing scowl.
“We have only gone a mile so far.” Ziva responded with her hand on her hips, continuing to jog in place without a hint of effort as he remained immobile on the ground, watching her.
“Easy for you to say, Ms. 'I-run-ten-miles-a-day'....But if you recall, I haven't run much in the last eight months....give me a break.”
“I do not run ten miles a day, Tony. Only six....Besides, Gibbs was quite clear that now that you are all healed up and no longer in need of any crutches or canes that it was time for you to get back into shape and he put me in charge of making sure you do. The director is not going to allow you back into the field until you pass that physical eval next week and if you do not pass your run, guess who Gibbs is going to blame?”
“And guess who he's gonna blame when I die before I even make it to the eval?” He panted then groaned as he sat up, sweat pouring from every single one of his pores despite the cool, autumn breeze blowing in.
“We only have another half mile to go before we make it to your place, I had planned on a longer run today, but I suppose I shall be merciful and we can finish there.”
“Gee, so generous.” He complained sarcastically.
“Come on. We will go slow, I promise.” She held out a hand to him and helped pull him off the ground.
“Fine.” he grumbled as he got up and followed her as she took up a slower run. He managed to keep up with her at the new pace without having to stop, but once they made to the steps leading up to his apartment building, he had to grab hold of the railing and bend over to catch his breath.
“What have you been doing twice a week when you go to physical therapy?” Ziva asked. “Besides hit on your physical therapist?”
“Well, not running six-minute miles, Zee-Vah, that's for sure. And I haven't hit on her...much...she's just as much a sadistic power-monger like a certain Mossad super-spy that shall remain anonymous. ”
“We were hardly going that fast, Tony. I set a firm seven-minute mile pace, one which I know you can do.”
Tony sat down on the front step and put his head between his knees, willing his heart to slow down before it exploded.
“could have fooled me...besides, I only need to run a nine-minute mile to pass the test, what gives?”
“If I have to have you on my six when we are chasing suspects on foot, then I expect you be right up there with me or beating me to them like you used to.”
“Ah, the 'ol foot chase....I do miss those...” Tony began wistfully, thinking back on his days in the field; eight months was a very long time to be so removed from what he loved doing.
Sure, he had been cleared for crime scene investigations a couple of months ago, but his reinstatement as a full-time field agent was still pending until he could pass that test next week. He hadn't been too worried about passing the marksmanship portion, Gibbs had made sure of that by taking him to the range at least weekly.
McGee had helped him brush up on some of his computer skills that he had been falling somewhat behind on before his fall, but he had gotten quite a bit of practice those first few weeks at work when he was relegated to mostly background research and other computer searches. He couldn't ever compete with McGee's skills on the computer, and admittedly, he had just learned how to type using more than just his index fingers, but he was twice as fast as he had been before his accident.
Then of course Ziva couldn't be left out of all of the fun as Gibbs had practically assigned her the mission to whip his ass in shape and she was doing a pretty bang-up job so far in pushing him to his physical limits which he wouldn't have been as motivated to do if he had tried to work out on his own. She was like his own personal drill sergeant.
“I guess you're right...I need to get up to speed again.” He acquiesced.
“That is the spirit...Now, how about some push-ups?”
“What?!” He looked up at her in disbelief as a smile played across her lips.
Another half hour later and Tony was quite certain that Ziva was enjoying herself a little too much at his expense when she laughed at him lying face down on the ground after he collapsed into a puddle of goo, his muscles pushed well past the point of failure from the never ending sets of push ups and sit ups she made him perform.
“Alright, Tony....I suppose you have suffered enough today.”
“Ugh...” was all he could say as he hugged the ground.
“How about we go up to your place and grab some water?”
He rolled onto his back . “You're gonna have to drag me up there, ya know.”
“You are such trauma queen.” She shook her head as he sat up.
“I think you mean 'drama queen' and no, I'm not.....I just don't think my body is accepting any more commands from me anymore.”
Ziva just snorted then took off without him towards his apartment building.
“Hey...you just gonna leave me here?” He whined.
“Yes, Tony...Have fun...” She waved behind her with a smirk.
Tony groaned then rolled up and went after her, albeit, slowly.
She was in the elevator in his building by the time he caught up to her and he made it just in time before the doors closed on him.
“Thanks for waiting.” He grumbled.
“My pleasure.” She grinned up at him and there it was: that look in her eyes that he caught every once in a while, a look he wasn't sure what to make of. Was it attraction? Maybe it was, he was good looking enough, he thought and never had any trouble getting dates and picking up women, so it could be that she was just . But with her, it was something else altogether; something he could never quite put his finger on.
He would have to make do with just these glances though. He was her partner and he wasn't going to go and spoil all that by being stupid and chasing after his animal impulses and he knew that she wouldn't either.
“So....”Ziva began, cutting the tension. “Glad to be back in your own place?”
“Yeah. As fun as hanging out at Gibbs' place was, a man needs his own space.”
“Right. It is hard to date when the boss is around, no?” She pointed out. “So, are you ready to jump in the saddle again, back to your playboy lifestyle?
“You have no idea...”
The elevator opened and Tony stepped out with Ziva right alongside as they headed for his door. Tony fished for his key, which he had tucked under his shoelaces just over the tongue of the shoe so it wouldn't be poking him from inside the pocket while they ran. He pulled out the key and slid it into the lock, but was surprised to find the door was already unlocked.
“Huh...That's weird.” He thought out loud. “I could have sworn I locked the door.”
Ziva was immediately on edge.
“You did lock it. I saw you.”
“Great...someone would try to break in when I don't have a weapon on me.” He grumbled quietly.
“I am armed.” Ziva produced a small caliber handgun from a hidden holster in her waistband.
“Damn, Ziva. You even run with a handgun?”
“Always be armed...Ziva's rule number one.” She explained. Tony looked at her with raised eyebrows. “What? If Gibbs and Abby can have rules, then so can I.” She defended herself.
With a nod letting him know that she was ready, he slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door. Swiftly, Ziva was inside, scanning the room with her weapon. Nothing appeared to be amiss and was just as he had left it an hour before when Ziva first came to his door. Tony stayed close to Ziva's side as they swept the apartment for signs that anyone might still be inside, but a thorough search found no one.
“Guess I didn't lock the door as well as I thought....” He mused as Ziva holstered her weapon then walked into the kitchen and went into the fridge pulling out two bottled waters. She opened one for herself and handed one to Tony, which he took and greedily gulped down.
“I should get going....” She began.
“Why? We have all day off...We could watch a movie.” He suggested hopefully, not wanting to let her go just yet.
Tony hated to admit that life back in his own apartment was somewhat lonely after he moved out of Gibbs' place, perhaps that was why he had stayed there so much longer than he had meant to in the beginning. From the get go, when Tony first asked Gibbs how long he needed to stay, he had balked when the older man told him he could move out when he could, as Gibbs had so eloquently stated, ' haul out your crap on your own'. At first, he couldn't wait to get back into his own place, but as he grew stronger once again and it became inevitable that he would need to leave, he had found that he would miss having someone else around to talk to, even if Gibbs rarely conversed back.
After he was well enough to make it down the stairs into the basement, he would just talk while Gibbs worked on the boat and that was usually enough for the two of them, but slowly there were the times when his mentor would actually open up about his life and one night after a few too many coffee mugs of bourbon, he and Gibbs had discussed things Tony never imagined he would tell another living soul.
They talked long into the night about fathers, about what a bastard his own father had been, but how he still sort of longed for the kind of love a father was supposed to show his son. Then somehow the conversation drifted over to past relationships, Gibbs dissed on his ex-wives while Tony admitted what a mistake he had made falling for Jeanne, but how he had actually considered what life might be like married to her. Then, much to Tony's utter surprise, Shannon and Kelley came up in that talk when he asked Gibbs if he ever regretted marrying any of his wives.
Tony knew right away that he had dug too deep, but his boss answered him honestly and explained how he never regretted taking the risk of getting married to any of them, most especially of all, his beloved Shannon. That night he saw a side to Gibbs that he had never seen before: a vulnerable side. It was sort of like seeing Superman react to kryptonite in that you don't expect a man like him, a stoic and hardened Marine to show any hint of weakness, but everyone has their Achilles heel and Gibbs' was his long-lost wife and daughter and for the first and hopefully last time ever, he saw Gibbs' eyes well up with unshed tears.
The next morning after that discussion, Tony knew it was time to move out.
Somehow, that openness he had shared with Gibbs scared him a little more than he was comfortable to admit and the older man did little to stop him. They both knew that Tony was completely healed then.
So now Tony stood in his apartment hoping that Ziva wouldn't go so soon, because that meant another afternoon spent by himself, watching the paint peel. He could see that she wasn't completely against the idea, but he knew that she would say 'no'. Not because she didn't enjoy his company, because he knew that she did, but maybe because she might enjoy it a little too much.
“Perhaps another time, Tony. I have much to do today.”
“Ah, I get it....Washing your hair? Doing your nails? Going shoe shopping?” He jibed her sarcastically as he leaned against the counter, knowing that unlike most women that had a day off, she would likely spend the afternoon sharpening her knives or cleaning her already immaculate handguns.
“You obviously know me so well....” She grinned and headed for the door, pausing before she left. “Same time tomorrow?”
“It's Sunday tomorrow...You don't really expect me to run on a holy day, do you?”
“Tony, your idea of a Sunday has little to do with being holy and more to do with being lazy.”
“The church of DiNozzo is very strict in it's rules about physical exertion on Sunday, unless of course, it's basketball.” He smiled as he batted his eyes.
Ziva shook her head.
“Fine. Then was shall play basketball. It is a good aerobic activity.”
“This should be fun." He grinned. "Especially since you suck at basketball.”
“Not as much as you do at running long distances.”
“That's hitting below the belt there, Missy.” He jokingly sobered, pretending to be hurt, but enjoying the light in her eyes just before she turned to leave, talking as she walked away down the hall.
“Bright and early, Tony. Prepare to have your hairy butt given to you.”
“That's have my ass handed to, Ziva and I think we both know who's going to be doing the ass handing out tomorrow.” He called out loudly after her. Just then his neighbor across the hall took that opportunity to walk out of her door and shoot him an annoyed look. He smiled and waved to her sheepishly.
“Hi...Sorry....” He apologized weakly.
She shook her curler covered head and grabbed the newspaper outside of her door, still glaring at him before she retreated back into her apartment.
Tony walked back into his place and shut the door behind him and sighed as he leaned back against the door. Alone again.
That's when he noticed the envelope sitting on the small table next to his door. He hadn't noticed it before in all of the charged excitement when he and Ziva cleared his place. They had been so focused on making sure no one was inside that he had skipped right over it. But now it stuck out like a fluorescent shirt at a funeral and he was drawn to it. It hadn't been there before he left, he knew that much.
He blanched when he picked it up and recognized his name scrawled across the top of it in handwriting he knew so intimately, even if it had been such a long time since he had last seen it. With shakey hands he pondered what he should do with it. He had paid the price for opening mysterious envelopes before, and intellectually he knew he should take it directly to Abby and have it examined, but his heart wanted him to rip it open and see what had made the man contact him after all this time.
Holding his breath, he decided that he couldn't wait to see what was written inside.
Anthony,
Piscataway National Park, Mockley Point Rd to end. Turn right onto dirt road.
Come alone.
-Father
He read it over and over in confusion. His father wanted to meet him and he had gone through all of the trouble of having someone break into his place to leave this message for him? It didn't make any sense. He could have just called, unless he was afraid that someone was listening in.
Tony had a terrible feeling well up in his stomach and he was torn between taking off right away and calling Gibbs. But this was a family matter and his father wanted to see him alone so he had to be in some kind of trouble for him to want to meet him after all of these years of silence between them. A part of him just wanted to crumple up the note and forget that he ever tried to contact him, but truth be told, it was too hard to just ignore.
Even though the man had been a distant and seemingly uncaring figure for the greater part of his life, he could still remember the times when that hadn't always been the case and his mind flashed back to the summer before his mother died. His father dragging him to all of those civil war reenactments. He hated it at first, as he was the poop-boy after all, but he and his father alone for two weeks had been the first and only time they had ever bonded in any sort of way. His mother died later that summer and his father had been emotionally incapable of raising Tony on his own, leaving that instead to nannies and boarding schools to do it for him.
Despite the coldness his father showed, he had always desperately hoped for his father's attention. But after so many years of not getting any unless he had failed to live up to the DiNozzo name in some way, he gave up trying to please the old man. But now with his father asking him to meet him, he wasn't sure what to make of it all.
Was this the reconciliation they both needed?
He desperately needed an answer, so before he could talk himself out of it, he was packing his gear and weapon, heading out of town at break neck speeds.
OOOOOOOOOO
Gibbs tried to work on his boat. Truth was, his heart just wasn't in it right at the moment. Things were quiet, but strangely too quiet for him. He had grown accustomed to the sounds of the television going on upstairs or of laughter coming from the kitchen between Tony and his teammates. But now that Tony had moved back into his own place, things had become oppressively serene in his home.
He never thought he would see the day that he didn't welcome the silence.
With a frustrated sigh, he gave tossed his paintbrush into the mason jar filled with turpentine and decided he needed a break from his down time.
Without even thinking, he put himself on automatic pilot and drove across town until he found himself at headquarters and in the bullpen. It was quiet here as well, being a Saturday morning and without his agents nearby he was still distracted by their absence, but there was always paperwork to be done and he got on it.
It was an hour later before the phone rang on Tony's desk. Gibbs had half a mind to just ignore it as it was most likely from a new girlfriend, but after the third ring he got up and strode across the office to answer it and tell whomever it was that his senior agent was not there.
“Special Agent Gibbs.” He answered.
“I'm sorry, I was trying to reach a Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.”
“This is his phone. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Perhaps. I'm Sergeant Allen Sanders from the New York State Police, I was needing to get in contact with Agent DiNozzo. He is listed as the next of kin to Vincent DiNozzo.”
“That's his father. What's going on?” Gibbs asked on edge.
“He's gone missing. A housekeeper and a security guard at his residence were found unconscious at his home this morning by one of his business associates when he failed to show up for a meeting. There appears to be no sign of Mr. DiNozzo and we have reason to believe this to be a possible kidnapping.”
“Has the housekeeper or the guard given any statements?”
“No, they're both still unconscious at the hospital here, it looks like the security guard was attacked and then injected with a sedative before the kidnapper broke inside the main home, drugged the maid as she slept then drugged we figure that Mr. DiNozzo may have been sedated as well, since there was no sign of a struggle and drag marks leading to some tire tracks through the back entrance.”
"Ransom demands?"
"Not yet."
“Video footage?”
“We have our forensic specialists on it. All that can be made out so far is a man in black and a ski mask. Look, Agent Gibbs, we've got it covered over here as far as the investigation goes, but we still need Agent DiNozzo to answer some questions.”
“You think he might be a suspect?”
“We just want to rule it out. Do you know where he might have been between midnight and eight am?”
“He was here working until ten p.m. I was here with him.”
“But you don't know where he went after that?” Gibbs sighed in frustration.
“No.”
“Then conceivably he could have had time to travel up here....”
“Listen. I know where you are going with this and you can stop right there.” Gibbs cut him off sharply.” DiNozzo had nothing to do with his father disappearing.”
“I have to ask Agent Gibbs. It's my job. We've learned that Mr. DiNozzo and his son weren't on the best of terms and I would be remiss if I didn't look into it. Now, do you have a cell phone number I can reach him at-”
“I'll call him and call you back.” Gibbs responded curtly, hanging up on the man before he could go any further. He slammed the phone down in anger. He knew there was no way that Tony could be involved with the disappearance of his father, he could barely talk about the man let alone want to kidnap him.
After taking a moment to collect himself from his blazing anger, he picked up the receiver again, this time calling Tony's home number.
The machine picked up and Gibbs wasn't too surprised as the younger man was most likely out enjoying his weekend off, going to see a movie or scour the town looking for his next conquest. Sighing, he hung up and dialed Tony's cell.
This time when there was no answer, Gibbs swore out loud, drawing the attention of some of the other agents on weekend duty, but he didn't give a damn what they thought.
“Shit, DiNozzo, answer your damn phone.” He muttered after he tried again, getting Tony's voice mail.
“Where the hell are you?”
OOOOOOOOOO
Aaron's hands shook as he waited, sitting on the edge of his bumper. He would have been more captivated by the beautiful view of the river beside him, but it had been several hours since his last drink and he didn't have anything left in the tequila bottle to calm the quakes coursing through his body.
He could hear the muffled cries from the man inside the trunk as he banged from the inside and begged to be let out, but he ignored them and hugged himself a little tighter against the cold front moving in. Rain was threatening, but he would wait here all day and night no matter the weather until his last mission was completed.
The events of the last day had been clear despite the pain that withdrawal from alcohol was wreaking on his system. He had become so used to the constant stream of numbing relief that being inebriated brought him, that he was wasn't sure how to deal with his conflicting emotions.
He had moments of clarity now and again where he regretted what he was doing, but those thoughts would go away and melt into the background whenever he remembered the pain the last few months had brought him.
Thinking back on his last days as an NCIS agent helped focus his resolve. Being fired from Gibbs' team had indeed been a big blow to Aaron's self-esteem and that first night home after a thorough reaming from his ex-boss and a formal reprimand placed in his jacket, had been devastating. He wasn't used to failure, especially not on that scale. It simply didn't happen to him. He had been blindsided by his own shortcomings and didn't know how to deal with them. Going home that night, he nearly crumbled, finding a dark corner to contemplate his future or what was left of it anyway.
The whole Mexican fiasco had been DiNozzo's plan, but the other agent was getting none of the blame from Gibbs. Somehow, Gibbs' golden boy was coming out smelling like roses while he was finding himself facing transfer to the cyber crimes unit in the basement.
The basement of all places!
He was to have his field status revoked, perhaps permanently and placed as a researcher for at least a year.
He burned at his demotion, one he knew he didn't deserve and the more he sat in the dark, the more he thought and the more he came to despise DiNozzo.
What made it even worse was the knock at his door late that evening.
He should have never answered it.
But he did and on the other side he found Agent DiNozzo standing there with a bottle of Jack in one hand and grin plastered across his face.
“Hey Probie...” Aaron hated being called that, but held tongue as the other agent shoved the bottle of whiskey into his hands and let himself in, hobbling on his crutches.
“Agent DiNozzo, what are you doing here? It's one o'clock in the morning....”
“Yeah, I know...Gibbs is still at the office, so I took a cab...Listen about everything...”
“I don't think you should be here.”
"You got any glasses?"
DiNozzo let himself into the kitchen and dug around in the cupboards until he found a couple of shot glasses. He poured himself a drink and handed one to Aaron. Foster made to hand it back.
“Probie....” Tony stopped him with a serious expression “I'm only gonna say this once then I'll go. " He downed the shot in one gulp, making a face at it's burning and bitter taste.
"Shit happens. That's life and you move on. That's the only advice I'm going to give you and for what it's worth, it wasn't all of your fault. Sure, you made a mistake. Lots of mistakes were made. Trust me I know a lot about making mistakes...Hell, I wouldn't be using these crutches right now if I was perfect.”
“What exactly are you trying to say here Agent DiNozzo?”
“That you don't need to give up so easily.”
DiNozzo left shortly after that, leaving Aaron to fume. How dare that man come to his place unannounced and tell him what to do. His life was in a shambles enough as it was and he was telling him to suck it up and drive on. The nerve of the man!
That's when he had his first shot from that damn bottle of whiskey DiNozzo left sitting out on his counter. He always told himself he would never hit the bottle like his father had, but out of anger, frustration and a desperation to escape from the thoughts running through his head, he drank and he drank until he could feel no more and he passed out on his couch.
The next morning he reported to cyber crimes hungover. His performance his first day was far less than spectacular and it all went downhill from there. After a month and a poor performance review, he found solace more and more often from his life at the bottom of a liquor bottle. It was shocking even to him how quickly everything fell apart around him after that and how swiftly his new addiction had taken over his life.
The last straw had been the day he came in still a little drunk from the previous night. He tried to hide it, but he felt ill and had to excuse himself to the rest room. It would be his luck that as he was sick in the toilet, Agent DiNozzo would be waiting for him after he came out.
“You look like shit, Foster.”
Aaron ignored him as he shouldered past and washed his hands.
“I might also add that you smell like a brewery that fell into a moonshine still.”
“Leave me alone, Agent DiNozzo.”
“Look, Probie....” Tony grabbed his arm, but Aaron tugged his elbow back in irritation.
“Don't call me Probie...I'm not on Gibbs' team anymore...”
“You're still a Probie, Probie...” Tony sneered, then softened a bit. “Look...I'm trying to help here, but you need to get your head screwed back on straight again if you want to get back to field status. There are places that can help you....”
Tony walked over and for the first time Aaron saw the cane he had heard rumors that Gibbs had made for his agent. It didn't bother him until he got a good look at it right at that moment. The attention to detail made in its craftsmanship, the care put into its creation spoke of a fondness for DiNozzo that Aaron could just not fathom.
Then suddenly, it was as though everything became crystal clear to him. From Mexico to that damn bottle of whiskey to that very moment in the men's room, he realized the world was completely upside down and it was all this man's fault.
He was surprised almost as much as DiNozzo, by his sudden hatred and when his hand clenched into a tight fist, Aaron sent it flying into the other man's face, making contact with his nose, feeling the crunch of its cartilage under his knuckles.
DiNozzo fell to the floor and lay on the ground moaning as he cupped his nose in pain, blood seeping through his fingers. Aaron was still shaking by the time the bathroom door opened.
“Tony? Gibbs is looking....Shit...” McGee ran in and helped Tony to sit up.
“Foster, What did you do?”
Breaking DiNozzo's nose had been satisfying but it was only a temporary balm and it didn't take long for him to find himself cleaning out his desk, no longer a federal agent.
He gave up trying after that. There wasn't an agency or even a police department in the entire country that would hire a drunk, ex-federal emploee that punched out a fellow agent.
The weeks passed and he languished in a never ending cycle of booze and hatred, Spiralling out of control until he found himself actually coming up with a plan. He became fixated on finding a way to get back at DiNozzo for taking all the he had worked so hard to achieve away from him.
It wasn't much of a plan at first, mostly just an idea, a suggestion to himself that he would never actually act upon, but as time passed and he became less and less of the man he had tried so hard to become, he gave into his addiction and obsession, letting them control his waking hours until the only thing he had left was his desperate need for numbness and payback.
After his money finally ran out and he lost his job at a burger joint, he knew the end would be coming soon. He was beyond anyone's help. But his anger held fast and he remembered the conversation he overheard that first week he had been assigned to Gibbs' team regarding Tony's father and that gave him the idea that he could actually go through with his revenge.
At the time, he had done a simple background check and found that DiNozzo senior was a CEO of a major international shipping business and the only remaining member of Tony's immediate family. It had angered Aaron even then that DiNozzo had led such a charmed life as a child, born with a silver spoon tucked firmly into his mouth while Foster had spent his formative years just trying to avoid his father's drunken rages and heavy fists. Aaron had to scrape, claw and fight his way to the top, while DiNozzo had everything handed to him.
It certainly explained why the man felt he was so superior to everyone else. He never had to work for anything growing up and now Foster drawn the conclusion that Tony had gone into police work simply in order to fulfill some fantasy of being like the cops in the movies to which he was constantly referencing.
Finally, just a few days ago, had set his plan into motion. Driving up to Long Island and secretly reconnoitering the DiNozzo estate at night, he learned all he needed to get inside to the multi-millionaire just by watching. He learned that the security guard that worked the estate at night was sneaking naps in the guard booth just inside of the main gate and he could be easily subdued
Slipping a ski mask over his face, he climbed over the fence and crept up behind the security guard as he was asleep once again at his post. Before the man could react, Aaron pistol whipped him over the head then injected him with the Rohypnol he managed to find on the black market before he left Washington, knowing it would keep him out for a good long time. From there it was simple work to shut down the cameras to the rest of the home and open the main gate. He quickly ran to his car and drove it up the drive way to the back entrance. Using the keys he retrieved from the guard he let himself into the home, making his way quietly across marble tiled floors and up the ridiculously massive and ornately designed, grand staircase until he found what he hoped was the sleeping chambers of Vincent DiNozzo.
Opening the door to the master bedroom, he found Tony's father fast asleep with a scrapbook lying open next to him on the other side of the bed. He acted quickly, injecting the drug directly into the jugular for it to work the fastest. He never even stirred.
Aaron noticed the album lying on the bed and flipped through several of the pages and decided that along with his abductee, he would take it as well. It might prove useful.
The hard part came next when he had to drag the older man out of bed and down the stairs. As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, it was then that a short and round middle aged woman came upon what was happening. He whipped out his gun and pointed it her, putting a finger up to his lips with his other hand and shaking his head to keep her from calling out.
He was able to subdue her easily without much noise and inject her with the sedative as well, the Rohybnol would take care of her memory and she shouldn't be able to even recall running into him.
After securing the older man in the trunk of his car and slipping a special surprise over the older man's pajamas, he drove off, closing the main gate behind him as he went. He tried to maintain a steady pace all the way to Washington so as not to risk getting pulled over and had remained relatively sober for the entire trip.
Pulling over once when he came to a deserted stretch of country road, he held a gun to Vincent's DiNozzo's head as the man woke from his drug induced stupor and ordered him to write the note to Tony. The older man was surprisingly defiant, but a sharp sock to his face and explaination regarding the special vest he now wore had the man complying and handing him the finished note before Foster slammed the trunk locked once again.
Once in Washington, Aaron was let into Tony's building by one of his neighbors and he had meant to just slip the note under the door for DiNozzo to find, but he changed his mind when he found no one was at home and how much more of an impact it would make on the agent if he left the note inside of his home in a place where only someone who could break into his place would leave it. So, using the lock-picking skills he learned from Ziva while he had been on Gibbs' team, he entered the apartment and placed the note on the small table by his door, leaving the door unlocked just to rattle the other man's nerves. His only regret was he wouldn't be there to see the expression on his face when he found the note.
So, then he waited at the designated area, trying to put the sounds of the man inside of his trunk out of his mind and the shakes and shivers from taking over completely.
Thankfully, he didn't have to wait for much longer.
He'd spot DiNozzo's car anywhere, another symbol of the man's insufferable vanity. Pulling out his weapon, he opened the trunk, hauling Vincent DiNozzo out and bringing him standing before him, his handgun pointed directly at the older man's temple.
Tony must have seen this as he accelerated before coming to a hasty halt, dust flying in all direction from the wheels of his car against the dirt road. He practically jumped out of the car, using his door as cover.
“Foster?! What the hell are you doing? Let him go!” DiNozzo shouted, his sidearm drawn and aimed towards him.
“Forget it, DiNozzo. You want your father? Put down your weapon...” Tony hesitated before Foster began to point to his father's chest “As you can plainly see, I took the liberty of enhancing your father's wardrobe with some explosives....”
“And I have a dead man's switch. You kill me and you kill all of us when this vest goes off....Your choice, DiNozzo.”
“Do it Anthony.” The older DiNozzo encouraged his son.
Severely pissed, but seeing no other choice, Tony came up with his hands and weapon in the air.
“Good. Now throw your pistol into the river.”
DiNozzo was turning beat red in anger, but tossed the gun into the river as he was told. That's when Tony's phone began to ring.
“Toss your phone in there, too.” Aaron ordered.
“You should know it's Gibbs, he's gonna come looking for me when I don't answer.” Tony explained after seeing the caller ID.
“Oh, I don't doubt it, DiNozzo. But, by the time he finds us, it'll be too late.”
TBC......
The T.A.D. by Angie
Chapter End Notes:
Sorry everyone....I've been having trouble logging in to the websit until just this morning. But I'm back on here...Yay! So I'll post the rest of the story today now that it is all finished. :D