"No, Agent Gibbs, you will *not* leave the premises and accompany us on this recon, nor will any of your people. You *will* remain safely within the confines of the lodge, you *will* keep well away from all doors and windows, and you *will* not venture outside until either me or Sergeant Evers personally gives you the all-clear. I'm under direct orders from the SecNav on this one and I'm going to ensure you and every member of your team stays safely out of harm's way. It's my job to secure and defend, it's my job to protect from potential hostiles and apprehend any intruders, and it's my job guard against and use deadly force if faced with enemy fire. *Your* job is to make mine easier, plain and simple, and, damn it, I can't do that if you and your agents are outside and involved and I have to keep track of their movements as well as those of my own men. Do we understand each other?"
Jethro Gibbs eyed the sharp, stern visage of the Marine officer standing tensely before him, bristling at the tone of the commanding, young voice and the stiff, authoritative posture of the uniformed body, and knew he had no choice in the matter. Not this time.
"We just want to help..." he began his argument anew, knowing it sounded terribly lame and would get him absolutely nowhere in his quest to offer assistance but was unable to fight the demanding compulsion to present his case nonetheless.
"And you will," Captain Bradley assured, recognizing the angry, haunted expression in the stormy, blue eyes of the man standing in front of him. Gibbs was obviously not a man to sit idly by while others fought battles, especially when he considered them to be *his* battles. Realizing he needed to take a different tact, Bradley reached out and placed a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder, lowering his voice and changing his tone. "Gunny, you can protect and defend Agent DiNozzo a lot better from within the confines of these walls," he indicated with a sharp glance over one shoulder, "not outside of them. Leave the perimeter to us."
Gibbs studied the cool, intense gaze of the Marine, knowing the officer was right in his evaluation, but was really having a difficult time accepting it. He wanted...needed...to contribute, especially after feeling so out-of-the-loop and unnecessary with DiNozzo's comfort and care.
"Besides," Captain Bradley was continuing, his eyes flicking away to some spot just to the left of Gibbs' face, "we're not even sure these intruders that were spotted are on the property to do harm to your man. They could be nothing more than common trespassers or kids taking a short-cut."
Gibbs huffed an exasperated sigh and saw the officer's eyes immediately track back to his face. "Captain Bradley, I heard the report that came in. The intruders are carrying weapons..."
"They could be hunters."
The two men stood silently and regarded each other for several moments. They both knew the likelihood of some hunters accidentally wandering onto Double D property was slim to none. The acreage was fenced in and clearly posted and someone coming in to do some illegal hunting sure wouldn't be arriving from the direction of the reservoir. No, both men knew these particular 'hunters' were heading their way and the only game they were after was of the two-legged variety.
"Don't insult my intelligence," Gibbs smirked as he watched Bradley shift.
"All right," the Marine nodded once and conceded, cocking his head slightly to one side, "but I deserve the same consideration. Let me do my job, Gunny. That's why we're here. You know the SecNav's orders."
Gibbs swore silently, knowing the officer was right. He could see the small unit of jarheads getting ready to move out and knew he had to let this particular battle go on without him.
"All right," he acquiesced, shoving his hands hard into the pockets of his pants in a gesture of controlled anger, "but you'll be sure to let me know what you find. McGee will be manning the communications all the while."
"As soon as I know something for sure and we've got the situation under control, I'll pass the word along."
It was better than nothing. the NCIS agent nodded but, before Bradley could turn and step away, Gibbs stopped him with a hand. The Marine looked at the fingers gripping his forearm and then up into the older man's face, frowning with concern.
"Gunny?"
Gibbs gave the arm in his grasp a tight squeeze before letting go. "Be safe, Captain."
Bradley nodded and offered a small grim grin. "That's the plan."
Gibbs stood on the shaded porch and watched the small group form up and start out on foot, their light packs and weapons looking so out of place in the surrounding landscape he had to blink hard to banish the surreal image. His keen eyes shifted from the departing group and settled on the general position of the sniper he knew was perched somewhere on the roof of the machine shed just across the expanse of drive from the lodge. He and his people were not alone, not by a longshot. There was another sniper, somewhere, just as equally hidden from view, probably on the roof of the lodge itself or camouflaged in the rocky cliffs just to the east. There were eyes watching and protecting them, ready to deliver deadly force, and, even if he couldn't see them, Gibbs was very aware of their presence.
Sighing and turning away, Gibbs shifted his gaze to lock with McGee's, who was standing a bit uncertainly just to one side of the closed entryway. He could see the open apprehension in the youthful eyes regadring him and knew his agent was feeling nervous and jumpy about the situation but he could also see a frown of confusion lurking behind the anxious expression and knew McGee was pondering a problem.
"What?" Gibbs snapped brusquely, irritated for having his conversation with Captain Bradley overheard...and for feeling so antsy about DiNozzo and Fornell. "You got something to say?"
McGee shifted but didn't drop his gaze. "Um...well, actually, I do, Boss."
Gibbs moved to stand toe-to-toe with the younger man, ignoring the fact he had to bend his head slightly back to look down his nose at the smooth, unlined face, and waited. He could see McGee squirm a bit under the silent scrutiny but had to give him credit for not buckling under. The kid had certainly come a long way since Caitlin Todd's murder and his confidence was growing each day.
"How long are planning on making me wait, McGee?" Gibbs hissed and knew he'd struck a cord when the large eyes blinked rapidly.
"Sorry, Boss," he swallowed and then seemed to get his bearings. "I was thinking: if these so-called 'intruders' the Marines have located are somehow part of this whole Emilio Martinez situation, how did they find Tony so soon? I mean, it hasn't even been a week since Ziva and Fornell had him in Farmington and they used most of the backroads bringing him here. I know if someone was watching us in Washington and tracked us all the way from Carlsbad to here, they wouldn't have missed the convoy of Marines that escorted us to this lodge. But someone came after Tony when he was still in Utah, after we left him there with Victoria Sebastian, and we know how that ended. It...well, it all just seems a little too convenient for me."
Gibbs couldn't believe what he was hearing, so when he spoke, the question came out harsh and filled with uncertainty. "You think someone in our group is feeding information on his location?"
McGee swallowed nervously but quickly shook his head in denial. "No, of course not..."
"Well, it sure sounded that way to me. Just what the hell are you implying then?" Gibbs was angry at the suggestion but knew his agent had a point. He'd begun to wonder the same thing himself, in fact, but had shoved those absurd thoughts away. And McGee was getting very good at thinking outside the box, a characteristic that had, no doubt, rubbed off from DiNozzo. "Tell me!"
"What if it's Tony himself?" The younger man offered in a soft rush of speculation. He could see Gibbs' expression momentarily cloud and then harden even more as the implications sunk in and knew he had to elaborate. "What if he's been, somehow, implanted with a transmitter?"
Gibbs felt his blood turn icy in his veins. "Tagged?" He forced the word past his lips, hating the way it sounded to his ears. "You think Martinez tagged him like some damn animal?"
McGee nodded only once, seeing how the whole concept renewed the furious spark of rage in Gibbs' eyes. "Yes."
"Fuck!" Gibbs swore and pushed by his agent, moving back through the front entrance of the lodge and hastening up the huge staircase, taking them two and three at a time. He was dimly aware of McGee on his heels and of others joining in their wake but was totally focused on getting back into DiNozzo's room as quickly as possible.
Knocking several times on the locked door and quickly identifying himself to the people inside, Gibbs waited impatiently until the solid panel was unlocked and opened. He burst through and surprised everyone with the intensity of his entrance, including Tobias Fornell, who was bending over DiNozzo's reclining form and murmuring softly to the dazed, young man.
Gibbs' eyes took in the hand Fornell had gently placed against one of DiNozzo's cheeks...and the world turned a hazy red. Before anyone could step forward and intervene, Gibbs was around the bed and yanking Fornell away by the scruff of his shirt, jerking hard and sending the FBI agent stumbling into a chest of drawers near the closest wall, upsetting the various medical supplies arranged so carefully on the flat surface, sending them toppling to the floor.
"Jethro!" Ducky was yelling and moving to stop the unexpected violence, as was Lieutenant Commander Wainwright, and they managed to wedge themselves between the two struggling men, effectly keeping them apart. "Jethro! Stop this immediately!"
"Agent Gibbs!" Wainwright joined loudly, hoping the man would come to his senses before someone got seriously injured.
Gibbs was breathing hard and pointing an accusing finger in Fornell's direction, eyes hard and unforgiving. "I want you out of this room right now," he seethed, teeth flashing dangerously. "You aren't even suppose to be here!" He looked darkly down into Ducky's face. "That door was suppose to remain closed and locked until I came back!"
Fornell pulled himself upright and frowned at the ex-Marine, tugging at the neckline of his shirt to set the garment to rights. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed at the fury radiating off the man.
"Shit, Gibbs, I only came in here because Ducky asked me to," he stressed, trying to defend his presence.
Gibbs pushed slightly back and looked closely at his medical examiner, eyes filling with betrayal, wondering how Ducky could do something like this behind his back. There was no doubt Fornell was telling the truth...he could see it in the pale eyes of his old friend.
"Anthony has been very restless, Jethro," Ducky was immediately offering his explanation, calmly keeping a reassuring hand on the trembling man's forearm, "and he began to fight us when we started our morning examination. Whether you want to admit it or not, Tobias has a great soothing influence on him. We're trying to do everything we can to keep Anthony out of restraints, you know this," he saw Gibbs flinch at the reminder, "but we have to have a way to get him to relax and settle down and the only way that seems to work at this point is to have Tobias close by."
Gibbs took another step back and glanced quickly over to the bed, watching as Abby tried to soothe DiNozzo, holding his hands and speaking softly, continually trying to get him to relax. He didn't know when she'd come in and only now thought of the footsteps he'd heard following as he'd entered the room. Probably her. And Ziva. Maybe even D.
Gibbs watched as DiNozzo squirmed and shifted under the lightweight coverings and refused to follow Abby's quiet pleadings to be still, locked in his own quest, looking for the one person who seemed able to calm his fears. The large, green eyes flitted aimlessly around the room, glancing at and dismissing everyone. When those expressive eyes found his, Gibbs held his breath and felt a measure of hope surge into his chest but, all to soon, the tired eyes moved on...until they found Fornell. He struggled a bit more and then suddenly just collapsed back, head heavy against the soft pillow but gaze remaining firmly locked on the older man's position. The need was evident in his stare: he wanted Fornell and no one else.
Taking another step back and shoving the raw hurt down once more, Gibbs forced his gaze away from DiNozzo, not able to look into those beseeching eyes one moment longer. It was hard to ignore the painful squeezing in his chest and the denial screaming within his head but there was no other option. Not now. Gibbs hated this whole situation, hated DiNozzo was still relying on Fornell for comfort, and hated he just couldn't come right out and tell everyone exactly what he felt for the younger man. But, really, what did it matter now? Not wanting to let his despair gain a foothold, Gibbs pushed all personal feelings aside, took a deep breath, and refocused on the matter at hand.
"We may have another problem," he spoke directly to Ducky and Wainwright, purposefully ignoring Fornell as the man slowly eased back toward the bed and took one of DiNozzo's shaking hands into his, sinking to sit on the side of the mattress. He knew everyone would be listening. "McGee has a theory as to why we haven't been able to keep DiNozzo safe."
Ducky arched an eyebrow at the statement, eyes skimming over to the bed before resettling on Gibbs. "So, you're certain these so-called intruders the Marines are tracking now *are* part of Doctor Martinez's group, then?"
"Don't know that for sure yet, Duck," Gibbs sighed and turned his back to the bed, blocking out the hurtful sight, rubbing a hand over his face and grimacing, "but, even if they aren't, his theory still bears listening to."
"All right," Ducky nodded and turned his attention to McGee, who stepped a bit closer so he could now be included in the small group conversation. He saw the young man nod at Wainwright before looking expectantly his way. "Timothy, what is it?"
McGee took one last look at Gibbs, saw his nod, and began. "So far, everywhere Tony has been, it hasn't taken too long before someone came snooping around...or worse." He remembered how close Ducky was to Victoria Sebastian and felt a flicker of real remorse before pushing on. "He's been on the run with one of us ever since we found him in Idaho and we've been very careful about covering our trails. Theoretically, we've covered so much distance and used so many different modes of transportation and have gone back and forth across the country that no one should have been able to..."
"McGee!" Gibbs snapped irritably, "Just get to the point already!"
"Sure, Boss," the young man nodded and plunged right back in, seemingly unphased by the harsh reprimand. "I think there may have been a transmitter of some type place on Tony, used for tracking his movement. That's the only logical way I can see how they've been able to shadow him like they have."
"Oh, my Lord," Ducky whispered and looked quickly back to his patient.
Abby was suddenly joining the group, bright eyes catching and holding McGee's. "You mean like some GPS microchip? Or a RFID tag implant?"
"RFID?" Gibbs asked with another frown, not liking the sound of the young woman's questions. "What the hell is RFID?"
"Radio Freguency Identification, Boss," McGee supplied quickly. "It's an automatic identification method that relies on storing and remotely retrieving data using devices known as 'tags' or 'transponders'. They're very small and can be attached to...or incorporated into...a product or an animal or a...person."
"Fuck," Gibbs hissed almost inaudibly and fixed his gaze back on the medical examiner. "Is that possible?"
"Well, actually, yes," Ducky confirmed a bit uncomfortably, "though I've never encountered one in a human before."
"Where *have* you seen one?" Gibbs inquired as he stepped closer.
"Several years ago, one of Mother's favorite Corgis had a tendency to wander off at the most inopportune of times. I just couldn't leave Mother by herself and go traipsing after the dreadfully nomadic creature every time it decided to take a stroll off the property, so the veterinarian suggested implanting little Benedict with a microchip, to track his movements."
"Did it work?"
"Oh, yes, quite well in fact," Ducky smiled a bit shrewdly, "Up until he found himself flattened under the wheels of a delivery truck."
There was a brief moment of silence before Abby piped back in. "Tagging cattle is used as a means of livestock identification and tracking in Canada and a few states here in the US. It's becoming more popular every year. Do you know the government can track a cow born in Canada almost three years ago to the exact stall or field where she is today? Probably all her calves, too."
"Abby," Gibbs gritted his teeth and made a cutting motion with one hand, "DiNozzo is not livestock."
"Well, no, but..."
"But this technology is working it's way more and more into the human population each day, Gibbs," Wainwright added solemnly, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes wandered back to their patient. "One of the items on the agenda at the G8 Summit back in '02 was to update work on a power source to be used in transmitters for humans. They wanted them to have a life expectancy of around eighty years or so and there were visions of every newborn being implanted immediately at birth. That idea didn't go over too well with the general population, as you can imagine." She nodded and looked back at Gibbs. "Nowadays, some parents are having them placed in their children to aid in potential kidnapping events, they're being implanted in Alzheimer's patients and those who have the tendency to take walks away from home, and even the law enforcement community has seen the value of using them in some prisoners and parolees."
"They're also used by major companies and labs all over the globe," McGee added quietly. "Toyota, Pfizer, even Wal-Mart use them as inventory tracking devices. Next-gen passports and credit cards will probably even contain RFIDs."
Gibbs stared at his youngest agent for a moment. "And now you think Martinez may have used one to track his...inventory."
McGee pressed his lips tightly together and sighed. No one in this room considered DiNozzo 'inventory' but what else could he possible be tosomeone like Emilio Martinez?
"I couldn't say for sure, Boss, but it seems like a logical explanation."
The silence that followed McGee's statement was enough for Gibbs. No one else offered a different idea or opinion and, he had to agree, all indicators pointed only in that direction.
"Okay, Duck," he finally said, "the ball is in your court again. How soon can you find this...tag...so we can dispose of it?"
"Can't we just wait until the Marines return with these intruders?" Ducky winced at the suggestion. "We would have to be very thorough in our examination, Jethro. Most probably even be invasive."
Gibbs cringed at the thought of DiNozzo having to withstand more probing and prodding. He'd been through so much already.
"Duck," Gibbs kept his voice steady and his tone even, "if these intruders are part of Martinez's organization and the Marines take them as prisoners, what's to stop more of them from following? Martinez has gone to a lot of trouble so far, why would he stop now? Until we know for sure DiNozzo is clear and free of anything that could be used as a locator for his position, we have no other choice."
Ducky nodded his understanding and reached to place a hand on Wainwright's shoulder. "We can eliminate a lot through visual examination alone and through the use of x-rays." He pulled her toward the bed and they gazed down on the young man now resting fairly comfortably with his head on Fornell's chest, fingers loosely tangled in the fabric of the man's shirt. "He won't like this, Jethro. I can tell you that much."
Gibbs hardened his heart, knowing they had to do this to keep him safe. He caught Fornell's concerned expression and stepped close.
"Tobias will help keep him calm...won't you, Tobias?"
It wasn't a challenge or a threat. It was a simple request and Fornell could see how much it was hurting Gibbs to ask for his help.
Fornell met Gibbs' direct look unflinchingly, hearing the underlying message. "You know I will do whatever I can for him."
For 'him'. Gibbs knew exactly what that meant.
Dropping his eyes back to DiNozzo's momentarily peaceful face one final time before turning away and striding purposefully to the open doorway, Gibbs barked to his remaining agents. "McGee. Ziva. You're with me."
As he passed into the outer hallway, Gibbs came face to face with Dunn, a beautifully maintained Remington 870 Wingmaster, 28 gauge, pump action shotgun cradled casually in his large, capable hands. He could see his friend was prepared to assist and had to stop at the determined look he was receiving.
"D?"
"Where do you want me, LJ?" Dunn asked without preamble.
Gibbs nodded once and put his hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing tight. "I need you right here, protecting this doorway, D. I never wanted to get you involved in anything like this but, God help me, I need you now."
"Shut the hell up," Dunn responded without any heat...or humor. "This is my place and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand idly by while the rest of you try to stay alive."
Gibbs allowed a small smile. His eyes flicked quickly to McGee and Ziva and jerked his head toward the staircase, silently communicating his wish for them to go down to the first level and wait for more instructions. He watched them go before turning his full attention back to his friend.
"There're five people in that room," his eyes drifted to the recently-closed and locked doorway, "who need protecting right now. Lieutenant Commander Wainwright has a sidearm, as does Fornell, but they're both going to be very busy with DiNozzo for awhile."
"I heard."
Gibbs knew Dunn had been standing close enough to hear everything. "Then you know they are not to open that door again unless it's one of us but, damn it, D, I need someone here by the door in case an unfriendly somehow gets by us downstairs."
"I'm your man."
The simple, understated reply was all that was necessary. Gibbs grunted.
"Never a man of many words, were you, D?"
"Yeah, well, look who's talking," Dunn grinned slyly, reaching with one foot to hook the bottom rung of a nearby chair, pulling it close and conveniently blocking the entryway to DiNozzo's room. He eased down onto the seat and looked up at Gibbs. "No one is getting by me."
Gibbs nodded. There was never any doubt.
Without another word, Gibbs whirled and started down the stairs, eyes sweeping from left to right, brain already focusing on the potential situation. Until he heard from Captain Bradley or Sergeant Evers, this lodge was his fortress, his domain, his responsibility and he'd be damned if anyone was going to get in...and he'd be doubly damned if anyone laid another hand on DiNozzo.
DiNozzo.
Gibbs momentarily found it difficult to push the thoughts of the younger man away and all he seemed to want to remember was the feelings that'd been growing steadily between them as their relationship had moved from professional to personal. Memories rushed in to haunt him, smacking him hard in the solar plexus, and driving the air from his lungs, catching him unprepared with vivid thoughts of late night conversations, of simple, shared laughter, and of moments of undeniable closeness. They'd had it all for one bright instant and, then, it was just gone. Closing his eyes tightly against the rush of forbidden memories, Gibbs almost missed the bottom step, and ended up stumbling slightly, catching himself only at the last second.
"You okay, Boss?"
Gibbs looked up into McGee's worried eyes and shoved his wayward thoughts forcibly to the back burner, where he was certain they would remain, simmering away until they all evaporated away into nothingness. He shot the young man a dark, stern look and pushed away from the supporting banister.
"We need to make sure the front and back entrances are covered at all times," he was instructing as he took long strides across the hardwood flooring in the main entryway of the lodge and glanced at his two agents. "Make sure you have extra rounds. Ziva, I want you to take the back. McGee, you man the communications. Get a line open immediately with Bradley and his group and find out what's happening."
"You got it, Boss," McGee responded and was away to do as bid.
"What about the Marine snipers on the roof tops? Won't they be able to take out whoever approaches?" Ziva asked as she automatically pulled her handgun from the holster at the small of her back and checked the clip, mentally falling into the proper frame of mind. A confrontation was in their future and she was an essential cog in the defense machinery.
"We don't take anything for granted," Gibbs barked sharply and scowled. "You know this, Ziva. Don't get confused just because there's a unit of Marines and a couple of trained snipers somewhere outside."
Ziva's dark eyes flashed at the biting reprimand but she understood the need for his words. They were a team, defending one of their own upstairs, and they had to depend only on themselves at this point in time. And, as McGee had started telling her recently, always be prepared to expect the unexpected.
"Understood, Gibbs," she nodded calmly and turned to head toward the back of the structure.
"Ziva," Gibbs' voice brought her up sharp and she swivled her head to look back at him again, cocking an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
"Stay sharp," his tone was more intimate and less tense and she could hear the underlying message in his voice, reading the directive in his cool, blue eyes: no one else was going to be harmed because of Emilio Martinez and his henchmen. No one.
Ziva nodded again and left, knowing Gibbs was going to take the front entrance for himself. If the Marines failed in keeping the surrounding area safe, Gibbs would keep them from getting in through the front...or die trying. The dark-haired woman shivered at the thought. If Gibbs failed, they would all certainly fail, too.
Gibbs watched her go and paced to the front door, throwing the strong, heavy locks and smiling at the secure, wooden panel, knowing it was at least two inches thick. Dunn had obviously spared no expense here and, for that, he was grateful. And there were none of those asinine, decorative, glass panels on either side of the door that could easily be shot out by a simple, innocuous pellet from a BB gun.
"Boss!"
McGee's strident voice, demanding his immediate attention, brought him back to the area away from the doorway. He saw the worried frown marring the younger man's face and quickly made his way to McGee's postion.
"What is it?"
"Captain Bradley's reporting a vehicle has just been spotted coming up from the main road..."
"Could be the CDC doc," Gibbs thought out loud, trying to control a flash of worry. This was all too convenient for him: intruders coming in from the direction of the reservoir and, now, someone approaching from the main road. Yeah, too convenient.
"That's what Bradley speculated but he's not taking any chances. Says they plan on separating and sending a couple of men to intercept the vehicle and that they'll contact us again when ID's been established. But he's hesitant to send anyone on to the lodge until all the intruders are neutralized."
Gibbs grunted his approval. They didn't need anyone else in the lodge to protect at this point in time. He nodded his understanding to McGee and watched as his agent turned away and headed back into the trophy room, where all the tech equipment had been set up.
"LJ?"
Dunn's strong voice was calling from the direction of the top of the staircase. Gibbs moved so he could clearly see his friend's face, looking up at the other man from the area by the bottom riser. He could see the casual yet focused manner in which Dunn carried his shotgun and the image of his position atop that rise, and at that exact level, brought a quick flash of memory of another time and another place. Brothers in arms...always.
"What is it, D?" Gibbs inquired, seeing his friend shift and glance back in the direction of DiNozzo's doorway.
"I think they found that microchip."
My God. Already?
"McGee!" He shouted toward the trophy room, not waiting for a response, knowing the younger man would obey. "Cover the front door."
Gibbs was bounding up the staircase, heading directly back to where he'd just left only minutes before, his thoughts jumping in his head and heart pounding in his chest. As he neared, he could hear the sound of muffled crying, of hushed, calming words, of muted but recognizable arguing. He tapped soundly on the door and identified himself, waiting impatiently until it was unlocked and opened.
Abby's pale face greeted him solemnly and he couldn't ignore the tears streaking down her cheeks. He offered the visibly distraught woman a brief hug and then moved toward the bed, eyes immediately trying to see past the small group of people so he could get a clear look at DiNozzo. He tried to tamp down the surge of envy as he caught sight of Fornell's arms wrapped securely around the weakly struggling young man, obviously trying to ease the soft cries and broken pleas for help. But something was not right...DiNozzo wasn't settling.
"Ducky, what's wrong?" Gibbs demanded as he stepped close.
Both Ducky and Wainwright left their places around the confused patient and immediately turned to face Gibbs. The medical examiner sighed and shook his head.
"We've located a place on his scalp, a few inches behind his left ear. We almost missed it but we think it could possibly be one of these transmitters."
"So? What's the problem?" He tried again. "Just take it out."
"We're waiting for confirmation on the x-ray," Ducky waved a hand toward the large closet they'd somehow transformed into a suitable place for that. "We were just discussing other areas before we do any surgery."
Gibbs felt his world narrow. "Other areas? I don't understand."
"Gibbs," Wainwright jumped in, "there's a strong possiblitiy he's carrying more than one. This particular one was easy to detect, once we knew what we were looking for, but I seriously think he may have one or two others...as backups. Martinez has gone to a lot of trouble to keep Agent DiNozzo within his scope...multiple taggings would insure a more secure method of recapturing his inventory."
"Christ," Gibbs breathed in frustration, eyes roaming back to the bed and the weak struggles that still continued. "What's wrong with him? Why won't he settle down for Fornell?"
"We don't know, Jethro," Ducky was shaking his head. "We tried to explain that we needed to examine him more thoroughly and he began to fight. We don't want to sedate him any more...the morphine, thankfully, is slowly leaving his system...so we decided to use a muscle relaxer instead. His pain is minimal right now but this...this is something else."
"I think he's scared," Wainwright's soft thought almost went undetected.
Both Gibbs and Ducky turned their attention to her but it was Ducky who spoke. "Roberta? What is it?"
The woman sighed and shook her head. "I think he's scared of us. All of us. And looking at how he's resisting Agent Fornell's attempts, I don't think we can rely on him for help any longer." She nailed them both with a hard eye. "If we are to examine him for any more of these transmitters, we're going to have to restrain him."
"Roberta!"
"No."
Both Ducky and Gibbs were surprised but it was Gibbs that stepped forward into the woman's personal space. His eyes were cold and hard.
"You will *not* restrain him in any way."
"He'll only continue fighting us until he either hurts himself or exhausts himself and neither result is good for him. You have a better idea?"
The challenge made Gibbs whirl around and move toward the bed. He looked down to where Fornell was trying to gently contain DiNozzo's anxious, uneasy movements and quickly made his decision.
"Get up, Tobias."
Fornell looked over his shoulder and up into Gibbs dark expression, shaking his head. "He won't settle for you."
"Get up," Gibbs repeated with a definate edge. "Don't make me tell you again."
The threat was there, hanging clearly in the room, and Fornell wisely released his hold on DiNozzo's weakly-flailing wrists and rolled up from the bed, stepping back and watching as Gibbs toed out of his shoes and placed his handgun on the side table.
"What...what are you going to do?" He asked hesitantly, eyes taking in each movement, already knowing what was about to occur. He swallowed nervously and shook his head in denial. "He won't calm for you..."
Gibbs turned and faced Fornell, his blue eyes seeming to spark with barely contained wrath. "Get your weapon and get your ass downstairs. Tell McGee I'm up here now and have him fill you in with what's happening outside."
Fornell stood stupidly, eyes still filled with negation. "But..."
"Now, Fornell!" Gibbs ordered, turned his back, and slipped into the bed beside DiNozzo, reaching with careful hands as the younger man began to fight against this new attack.
Fornell swallowed once more, bit back another useless retort, and turned away, slinking silently toward the doorway. Abby was still there, at her post, and she immediately opened the panel and watched as he went out, closing and locking it securely behind him. Turning back toward the bed, Abby eased into a padded chair just to one side and smiled, watching as Gibbs gently took DiNozzo into his arms and began the process of helping him heal.
'Yes!,' she thought with satisfaction. 'This is how it's suppose to be.
TBC
Author's Chapter Notes:
The enemy, unfortunately, is within.