AN – So I was having some difficulties getting this chapter out. I lost count of the number of times I re-wrote it. So here it goes, enjoy!

-NCIS-

"Palmer what are you doing here?" asked McGee as he spotted the ME assistant running towards him. "Where's Tony?" His concern instantly peaking.

Hearing her teammate Ziva looked up from where she was crouched by the burnt out car.

"Errr, . . Tony's gone to the Bank of America" Palmer gasped. "On base."

"Why on earth has he gone there?" asked Ziva. "Should he not be going to the hospital?"

"That's where Bleakly's gone. Tony says it's to do with money-"

"Just like his brother," McGee interrupted. "Boss!" he yelled getting Gibbs' attention.

Gibbs looked up from where he was scouring the area.

"Boss, Tony's gone after Bleakly," said McGee as he ran up to Gibbs.

Gibbs only reaction was the slightly widening of his eyes. How did DiNozzo know where to look? He hadn't even seen the scene. Of course this was DiNozzo, seemingly illogical leaps of logic was his forte.

"This was a heist, all the bombs were just a distraction" explained McGee. "Tony figured it out."

"Do we know where he's going?" asked Gibbs.

"Base bank."

Gibbs pulled out his cell phone intending to call DiNozzo.

"Gibbs, Tony's phone was destroyed in the last explosion," stated Ziva. Gibbs let out a low growl in response as he shut the phone. He looked around their current location for a suitable vehicle. There was nothing. All the vehicles were blocked in by the fire trucks.

"How did Tony figure it out," asked Ziva, throwing her hands up in the air. "Again."

"It's what he does," growled Gibbs. He was proud of his senior field agent. His ability to think outside of the box was what often leads to him being able to figure out a criminal's next move. But damn if it wasn't annoying when his survival instinct was put against everything else. DiNozzo would never put himself first.

"Where are you going?" called McGee as Gibbs started running away from the scene.

"To get DiNozzo's six," Gibbs shouted back without looking.

Ziva and McGee looked at each other before running after their boss.

"What should I do?" called Palmer to their retreating backs.

"Find Abby," shouted McGee.

-NCIS—

Tony could see the bank, he'd only run a couple of blocks but his knee was screaming at him to sit down. Right now though, he knew that if he stopped he wouldn't be getting up again.

Pushing on, he ignored how it was becoming more difficult to breath. The dull ache of his ribs had turned into a strong throbbing pain. But he would not quit. He was going to finish this.

Finally, he walked into the bank; looking down at himself he grimaced. He looked like an extra that'd just walked out of a post-apocalyptic movie. His shirt was torn in places and blood stained with his own blood. His pants were not in much better shape. The left leg over his knee was a large hole where the EMTs had been all too happy to use their scissors to get at his swollen and grazed knee. His own skin looked no better; he was cut, bruised and covered in dirt. He looked very out of place in the immaculately clean bank lobby.

"Sir, can I help you?" asked the security guard, blocking his path.

"NCIS," said Tony as he showed the man his shield. After the amount of times he'd been blown up in the last day he was surprised it was still attached to his belt. His actual photo ID, was long gone. "Where's the manager?"

"Back there," pointed the guard at the tellers' desk.

Tony walked towards the back of the bank. He could hear the guard on his radio as he looked around the bank. There was only one other member of staff, a young man behind the counter who was busy typing on the computer. There were no customers. It was still early, so that could be normal but in the famous words of Abby it just felt hinky.

The door at the far wall of the bank opened to reveal a short man in a suit. A badly worn suit, though looking at his own suit Tony couldn't really compare right now.

"Are you alright?" asked the manager in concern.

"Its laundry day," shrugged Tony as he peered into the office. He couldn't see any other employees. Where was everybody?

"You been quiet here today? Nothing strange?" he asked.

"No," said the manager shaking his head. "It's all been normal."

Tony wasn't convinced. The man was too shifty.

"I need to see your vault."

"No, I cannot allow that. Nobody but senior employee's go to the vault floor," stated the manager adamantly.

"Look, I've been in close proximity to four bombs in the past day, all of which have gone off. I am tired of this bastard who is currently in your vault, robbing the place. So when I say I need to see your vault, I really need to see your vault."

"That's impossible, we have the best security system in the city. I would know if there was somebody in there."

"Damn it," growled Tony in frustration. "Where's your security office? I want to check the CCTV," asked Tony, trying for a compromise.

The manager looked Tony up and down before nodding and leading the way through to a tiny little office. One wall was full of screens, each one with a different camera angle.

"Which is the vault?" asked Tony

"This one," pointed the manager at the bottom right hand screen.

The picture showed an empty vault, no people inside. Looking at the time and date stamp at the bottom left of the screen it seemed to be correct. There was no flicker or static. It seemed normal. But his gut was churning. Something wasn't right. Damn it! He needed McGee. He had no idea how to tell if the feed was being tampered with.

"Sir, you've seen the camera's there is nobody down there," explained the manager who was becoming rather irritated with the young man who looked like he'd just walked in off the streets.

"Agent DiNozzo-"

Tony had his gun out and pointed at the small man in the blink of an eye. "I never told you my name."

Suddenly something heavy slammed into his side. He crashed into the wall of monitors, momentarily stunned he dropped his gun. He looked up to see the security guard staring manically down at him, the end of a Glock pointed at his head.

"Well this is new, Bleakly has a partner," smirked Tony up at the guard.

"You just don't know when to give up, do ya?" growled the guard.

"I'm the freaking energizer bunny. I just keep going," laughed Tony.

He got a kick to the ribs, a loud snap sounded through the room. Tony let out a harsh gasp as he collapsed to the ground. His arms cradling his chest.

"Oops, looks like I broke something," laughed the guy. He drew his foot back ready for another kick.

Tony laughed, God did it hurt. He watched as the guard looked down on him in confusion

"What is so funny, little bunny?" growled the guard.

"You, you dumb fuck," spat Tony.

The guard roared in anger as he aimed his foot at Tony's chest again. Tony ignored the splitting pain as he shot up; pulling his knife from his belt he lunged forward. Stabbing the blade through the man's pants and into the calf muscle.

The guard screamed in pain.

Using the opportunity, Tony reached for his gun. Scooping it up off the floor he aimed it at the guard, who had forgotten about his own weapon and was reaching for the hilt of the knife.

"Don't move," yelled Tony. He was ignored. The guard gripped the hilt and yanked it out of his leg, blood spurted across the floor.

"Don't fucking move!" screamed Tony as he aimed his gun higher. The guard raised the knife as he lunged towards Tony.

He pulled the trigger.

Twice.

"Don't even think about pigging up that gun," said Tony lowly, not looking at the manager. He stepped towards the fallen guard, two holes in his chest.

"Th-they made me do it," stammered the manager.

"Sure they did. Now sit down," Tony indicated the desk chair in the corner, keeping his weapon in hand he crouched down to check the status of the guard. With two blossoming blood stains and eyes wide open, glazed. There was no questioning the man was dead.

"How many are in the vault?" asked Tony as he stood up and walked towards the desk.

"I-I don't know, I only saw two guys," said the man. "What are you gonna do with that?"

"This?" Tony asked holding up the phone cord he'd just ripped out of the wall. "I'm going to use it to tie you to the chair."

"Why? I told you I'm not with them. I'm not, I swear," the man begged.

"That's great, and this way I know you're not coming after me," shrugged Tony, now put your hands behind your back."

Tony placed his gun on the desk, before tying the manager's arms to the back of the chair.

"Which way to the vault?" he asked as he picked up his own gun again along with his knife that the guard still clutched in his dead hand, and finally he picked up the guard's Glock. Checking the mag. He put the safety on before placing it at the back of his waistband.

"The elevator to the basement or the last door on the left is the stairs," answered the man.

"Excellent, now you just wait here for Gibbs," smirked Tony as he tapped the manager on the shoulder.

"Who's Gibbs?" called the manager.

"My boss," smirked Tony as he closed the office door. "And the man who is going to kick my ass when he catches up to me," he muttered to himself as he started towards the stairwell.

-NCIS—