Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and this story is not intended as an infringement of copyright. It has been written solely for entertainment and no profit has been made from its creation.
Patrem et Filium – Father and Son
Chapter Six
Gibbs felt his heart constrict as time stood still for a mind-numbing instant. A moment later, a lifetime of training as a Marine sniper and a federal agent brought him to his senses. He took a knee at the young woman's side, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder and grasping her hand tightly with the other. Suppressing the fear coursing through his veins, he addressed the young Israeli.
"Who took him, Ziva?" he asked with surprising calm. "Who took Tony?"
Ziva's left eye was rapidly swelling closed and she shook her head to try to clear the fogginess that had settled in her mind.
"A...a man grabbed me from behind," she replied shakily. "I do not know how this happened. I…I…" Swallowing convulsively, she paled and looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. "I…I think I am going to be sick."
"I gotcha," Jackson said as he grasped her elbow and guided her to the bathroom. Waiting outside in the hallway, the older man cringed at the sound of her retching and proceeded to the kitchen for first aid supplies.
With shaking fingers, Gibbs reached for his cell, speed dialling Vance's number and cursing under his breath as the call went to voice mail. Ending the call without leaving a message, he dialled another number, almost sighing in relief as Kate picked up straight away.
"Gibbs, how's the shoulder?" the agent asked breezily.
"I need an amber alert and a team at my house now," he ordered.
"Amber alert? Gibbs?"
The Gunny forced himself to say the words that filled his heart with cold dread.
"Tony's been abducted, Kate," he said, close to his emotional edge. "Some bastard took him!"
A frightened gasp burst from Kate's lips a millisecond before the seasoned agent regained control.
"Time frame?" she asked, already keying the information into her computer.
"About 20 minutes," he replied.
"Suspect? Licence plate? Description of vehicle?"
"All unknown," Gibbs responded flatly.
Kate closed her eyes and fisted both hands tightly at the sparse information she'd been given. If they were to get the boy safely back, they needed as much information as they could get and they needed it now.
The acting lead agent had always considered herself a career woman. She loved her job and she was damn good at it. Although that career focus remained, she had been surprised by the maternal stirrings she'd felt since young Tony DiNozzo had touched their lives. Since the former Marine had taken a leave of absence to care for the boy, Kate had regularly found herself arriving at his home under the guise of discussing a case or needing a signature. But she never left without watching a Cary Grant movie or playing a game of movie trivia with Tony. Despite some major health issues, the child had a courage and zest for life that had completely captured her heart and she would move heaven and earth to get him back.
Kate hesitated a moment, desperate to find the words to comfort her boss yet unwilling to offer false platitudes.
"Gibbs?" she said softly.
"I know, Kate," he replied in a rare vulnerable timbre. "I know."
"We're on our way," she said reaching for her sidearm and badge and ending the call.
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Confident that his team would already be liaising with other agencies and putting various wheels in motion, Gibbs leaned heavily against the back of the couch. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed a small sodden cloth on the floor near the coffee table. Crouching beside it, he retrieved the pen from his pocket and drew it nearer for closer inspection. He jerked his head away quickly as the overwhelming remnants of the strong chemical made its presence known.
"Chloroform," he whispered.
Jackson and Ziva returned to the living room and resumed their place on the couch, the young woman looking dishevelled and shaky as she held an icepack to her cheek. Taking the afghan from the back of the couch, Gibbs placed it around her shoulders and took a seat on the coffee table.
"Ziva, listen to me," he said. "I need to know everything that happened from the time we left."
"Leroy, the girl is hurt," Jackson hissed. "Do you have to do this now?"
Ziva grasped the older man's hand.
"Gibbs is right," she told him with a small smile that reopened the split on her lower lip. "Finding Tony must be our main focus."
Holding a glass of water in both hands, she took a small sip and placed the glass on the table.
"Tony was not feeling well so we had decided on a light workout," she begun. "He seemed happy enough but I could tell he was tiring and I did not wish to push him too hard. I went to retrieve the thermometer to check his temperature."
She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply through her nose.
"I was grabbed from behind and a rag was placed over my face. I tried to fight but I could not breathe. There was a…a sickly sweet smell and I began to pass out."
The young woman's eyes flicked to her hands and she cleared the emotion from her voice and continued.
"I fought him as long as I could. Tony was screaming and calling my name but I could not respond. I...I scratched the man's face but he punched me and threw me to the floor. The last thing I remember is watching him place the rag over Tony's face. He tried to struggle but the man was too strong and he lost consciousness. Then he picked Tony up and…and he took him."
"I am so sorry, Gibbs," she said. "You trusted me to take care of Tony and now..."
Moving closer to the distraught woman, Jackson slipped a comforting arm around Ziva's shoulders and handed her a clean handkerchief from his pocket.
"This is not your fault. We're gonna find Tony and bring him home, isn't that right, Son?"
Gibbs nodded distractedly before returning his attention back to the physiotherapist.
"Ziva? Did you know this man? Had you ever seen him before?" he asked.
The young woman began to shake her head then frowned as her eyes grew dark with recall. Suddenly, she looked wide-eyed at Gibbs.
"The gym!" she said. "Gibbs! It was the same man who spoke with Tony at the sporting complex."
"You're sure?"
"I am positive," she said, her eyes now shining with a glimmer of hope.
Gibbs sighed wearily and carded his fingers through his silver hair.
"We spoke Amit Hadar."
"My father's second at Mossad?" she asked, frowning in confusion.
"The man at the sporting complex was a Mossad agent. There've been threats against your father. He placed you under surveillance until the threats passed. He didn't want you to know."
"My father has spent a lifetime underestimating me," Ziva huffed with no small amount of bitterness.
Gibbs felt an uneasy feeling in his gut.
"You saying you knew you were being followed?" he asked.
"I spotted the tail two weeks ago," she replied. "But Gibbs, the man who took Tony was definitely notMossad."
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Arthur Fisher's fragile mind was in turmoil. Since leaving the halfway house, his every thought had been consumed with avenging the death of his son - inflicting the emotional pain that he had endured. At the top of his list was the arresting officer – NCIS Special Agent, Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
The drug-induced fugue, in which he had existed for the past several years, was slowly beginning to lift enabling Fisher to execute his plan. It was a simple plan and by no means a masterstroke. He knew he was leaving a trail and he knew it was a matter of time before the authorities caught up with him. But, by then, Gibbs would have suffered like never before.
Fisher had spent days watching Gibbs and the boy from a distance – watching them riding their bike, laughing and enjoying their time together in the park. The memories it evoked, of time spent with his own son, almost tore his heart from his chest.
As the boy was never left alone, Fisher studied the procession of people arriving and departing from the Gibbs home before determining that the dark-haired, slightly built physiotherapist would provide the least resistance. That decision had almost been his undoing, he thought, gently running his fingers over the torn and abraded skin on his cheek. The woman had fought strongly before finally succumbing to the chloroform.
Driving back to the disused shed he'd found three nights before, he had carried the unconscious child inside and had almost dropped him when the boy's body suddenly stiffened and convulsed for several minutes. When his body finally stilled, his face pale and sweaty, Fisher had checked the boy's breathing, relieved to find a strong and regular pulse.
Moments later, through the murky darkness, Fisher watched as the disoriented boy released a frightened sob and raised his arms to be comforted. The man had baulked for a moment until the parental feeling he thought long dead, rose like a phoenix from the ashes of his broken heart. Anxiously rocking back and forth, Arthur Fisher hugged the listless boy to his chest feeling him grow heavier in his arms as sleep took him.
"It's okay, Aaron," Fisher whispered. "Daddy's here.
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'A hornet's nest,' Jackson thought as he watched the controlled chaos around him. 'Looks like someone kicked a darned hornet's nest.'
As he'd expected, Kate and McGee had been the first agents to arrive at the Gibbs home, offering comfort and reassurance before starting to photograph the scene and dust for prints. Abby and Ducky followed closely behind – the ME treating Ziva's minor injuries while Abby sat with the young Israeli and began work on a composite of the abductor.
From there, the number of agents and police officers grew exponentially as they conducted door to door questioning of neighbours and kept the swarm of media at bay. He turned his head at the raised voices coming from the living room where Kate was currently involved in an animated discussion with Tobias Fornell. The FBI agent was claiming jurisdiction over the kidnapping case and Kate was doggedly refusing to back down.
"This is not any other case, Fornell," he heard her say. "This is Tony and Tony is family."
"All the more reason for you and your team to step back and let us do our job," Fornell said.
As the two senior agents continued their heated discussion, Jackson noted the absence of his son. On a hunch, he made his way into Tony's bedroom and found the former Gunny sitting on the recliner and staring at the photo frame he was holding in his hands.
"Leroy?" Jackson said quietly.
"He hasn't got his meds, Dad," Gibbs said softly. "He's overdue for his anti-convulsants, he'll need his muscle relaxants and his soft splints. He hasn't got his wheelchair or his...his Keto meals."
There weren't too many times that Jackson could recall seeing his son so close to his emotional precipice but this was one of them.
"We'll find him, Son," he said, resting a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "But if we're gonna do that, we're gonna need you to do what you do best. Go be an agent...go find our boy."
As their eyes met, a myriad of emotions and unspoken words were shared in the silent exchange that provided strength and comfort to them both. With a determined nod of his head, Gibbs placed the photo frame on the bedside table and took a deep breath before climbing to his feet and leaving the room for an update on the investigation.
Alone in the boy's bedroom, Jackson dropped wearily into the recliner his son had just vacated. His eyes fell upon the photo frame Gibbs had been holding and he took a shaky breath. Taken just that morning, the image was of a smiling Tony with one skinny arm slung affectionately around a big golden Labrador named Bogart.
"Bring him home to us," Jackson whispered.
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Kate and Fornell were still arguing jurisdiction, the young woman refusing to let the older man get the better of her.
"I'm willing to allow a joint investigation, Fornell, but NCIS has the lead," she argued.
"That's not how it works, Agent Todd, and you know it," Fornell replied. "This is a kidnapping case and it falls under the purview of the FBI!"
"Not today, Tobias," Gibbs told him striding into the living room. "My kid, my case."
"Gibbs, you and your team are too close to this one," Fornell insisted.
"Work with us or leave," Gibbs stated flatly. "Your choice."
The two men stood toe to toe. They both knew Fornell was right. If he took the matter to his superiors, NCIS would be forced to sit this one out while the FBI led the investigation. But after years of friendship, Fornell recognised the look of intent in Gibbs' eyes. Officially or unofficially, nothing was going to stop him taking point on this one and Tobias had no inclination to try.
"Some choice," Fornell muttered, reluctantly. "But we do this together and we do it by the book."
Nodding curtly, Gibbs turned his attention to his team the door burst open and McGee rushed in.
"I got something!" he announced breathlessly. "A neighbour four doors down saw a car parked on the street for several days. She said the car doesn't belong to any of the residents. This could be our guy."
"Did she get a licence plate?" Kate asked.
"Better than that," McGee smiled. "She thought her ex-husband had hired a private investigator to watch her so...she took a photo. We have make, model, colour and licence plate. The car was reported stolen but I've updated the BOLO."
The vibe of the room lifted enormously as the team got its first break.
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Arthur Fisher awoke with an agonising pain throbbing at his temples. At first, he believed himself back in his old sparse room at the mental health clinic but his eyes grew wide and his mouth dry when he saw the sleeping child at his side.
"Aaron?" he whispered, scarcely able to find his voice.
The boy turned his head and rubbed his face into the pillow without waking but not before Fisher saw the dark blonde hair and the fair skin – this was not his son.
In a rare moment of lucidity, the events of the past few days came crashing in on him like a runaway freight train. He struggled to his feet, managing to steady himself against the wall. Knowing hyperventilation was but a few moments away he moved to sit on an old wooden chair and desperately fought to keep his brittle mind from losing its tenuous grip on reality.
What the hell had he done? This was not his child. He had taken another man's son - a boy with serious medical issues – and had exposed him to harm.
Attempting to shut out the world, Fisher screwed his eyes tightly closed. Fleeting flashbacks tormented his already beleaguered mind. Feelings of hate and despair, revenge and retribution had assailed him and overwhelmed any and all sense of reason and rationale. His mind's eye projected images of him following, stalking, stealing, breaking and entering and, to his absolute horror, attacking an innocent woman and taking this boy by against his will.
Fisher threw himself to the floor as his stomach violently expelled the meagre contents. His heart was pounding so hard that his vision was greying at the sides; a side-effect from the sudden stoppage of the medication he had taken for several years.
"Gibbs?"
The tiny whisper, frightened and confused, startled Fisher from his musing and he held his breath as the boy's eyes opened. Tony blinked, languidly at first, still feeling the effects from the chloroform and the seizure. As his vision cleared and his memory returned, his expression changed to one of panic. His head swiveled quickly from side to side as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings and the man sitting on the other side of the room.
"Where's Gibbs?" the child asked, his voice raspy and trembling.
"Gibbs isn't here," Fisher told him.
"Where is he?"
"It's okay, son. I'm sure he's looking for you."
The boy's green eyes widened with a terror and he awkwardly pushed his non-compliant body to the far corner of the bed.
"Mister? Are you going to kill me?"
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"What've we got?" Gibbs asked. "Kate?"
"We lifted several prints from the front door and we're running them through AFIS and the DMV. Whoever this guy is, he's amateur. A professional would have worn gloves and," she said with a nod in Ziva's direction, "would not have left any witnesses."
"Where's McGee?"
"He's continuing the door to door. Hopefully another of your neighbours saw or heard something that will help."
"Abs?" Gibbs asked.
"Ziva and I have just finished a composite of the man who...who took Tony," Abby said, showing Gibbs the image on her iPad. "Do you know him, Gibbs?"
Gibbs scrutinised the image for several long moments before shaking his head.
"We're running it through DMV and NCIC – no hits yet," she told him.
"I also took some tissue samples belonging to Tony's abductor from under Ziva's fingernails. Between those, the fingerprints and Ziva's testimony, this guy's toast, Gibbs."
"Gotta get 'im first, Abs," the former Gunny told her.
Gibbs looked to the couch where Ziva sat looking pale and sporting a nasty bruise under one eye while Ducky tried to coax her to drink a cup of tea.
"How's she doing?" he asked.
"She did great with the composite, Gibbs," Abby said. "She, like, wouldn't rest until we had it just right."
"She feels responsible for Tony's abduction," Kate added. "With her national service training she feels she should have been able to better protect him."
"She was taken from behind and chloroformed," Gibbs said. "Wasn't anything she could've done."
"That's what we've been telling her," Kate said raising an eyebrow. "Might help if it came from you."
Gibbs walked across the room and took a seat on the coffee table in front of the couch.
"How ya doing?" he asked.
"I am fine, Gibbs," the Israeli replied. "Please do not worry about me."
"I'm afraid that is not entirely correct, Jethro," Ducky added. "This young lady has endured a very frightening situation. Thankfully, her injuries are minor but she does need to rest. I am more than happy to see her to her home."
"Ducky's right," Gibbs said. "There's nothing you can do here. Go home, get some rest."
"If you do not mind, I would rather stay here," Ziva replied, her lower jaw trembling as she fought her emotions. "If it was not for me Tony would-"
"This wasn't your fault," Gibbs insisted. "We've gotta a good description and a tissue sample. You gave us that. We'll find him...we'll bring Tony home."
The tears she'd been refusing to let fall finally broke their banks and cut small trails of misery down her cheeks. Nodding her head she reluctantly got to her feet and Gibbs wrapped her in a hug.
"You will call me when you find him?" she asked.
"Count on it," the Gunny whispered as he released her to Ducky and watched them walk from the living room.
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Fisher watched as the small boy desperately pressed himself further into the wall by the bed. Tony's eyes were wide with terror and awash with tears he refused to let fall.
"Kill you?" Fisher repeated. "No! No, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt anyone."
The boy's slim shoulders relaxed slightly but Tony still anxiously stared at the man.
"You hurt Ziva," Tony accused, his lower lip jutting out slightly. "I saw you."
Exasperated, Fisher ran his hands through his hair and began to pace back and forth.
"Yes, yes I did…but that was an accident. I didn't mean to...I didn't mean to hurt her."
Fisher continued to pace, muttering quietly and gesticulating as if he were conversing with someone.
"Please let me go, Mister," Tony said, chewing his lower lip. "I want to go home. Gibbs will be worried about me."
The man's expression changed to anger and he furiously swept his arm across the table knocking a small lamp and several empty pizza boxes and soda cans to the floor. Startled, Tony gasped and drew his arms over his head to protect himself.
"No! This is all Gibbs' fault! He took my son from me and he needs to suffer! I want him to know the pain of having your only child taken from you!"
"He already knows what that's like," Tony whispered.
"What?" Fisher asked.
Tony remained silent, watching the man with fear-filled eyes.
"What did you mean by that?" Fisher asked. "I won't hurt you, boy. Just tell me what you said."
"When Gibbs was a Marine and fighting in the war," Tony started quietly. "A really bad man killed Gibbs wife and his little girl."
Fisher sat heavily into the chair, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.
"You called him, Gibbs? He's not your father?" Fisher asked.
Tony shook his head.
"Gibbs is my foster father."
Fisher frowned at the revelation.
"Where are your parents?" he asked.
Tony dropped his head and took a deep breath.
"My parents are in heaven," he answered vaguely. "Gibbs is all I have now. Please let me go home, Mister, please."
Springing from the chair, Fisher began to pace again, pulling fistfuls of hair from his head as he walked.
"This has all gone wrong. I just wanted to teach Gibbs a lesson and now they'll find me and they'll take me back. I can't go back there...I won't!"
Fisher felt like his world was once again spinning off its axis and he was helpless to prevent it. Anxiety overwhelmed his and he placed his head in his hands and wept.
"Mister?" Tony said tentatively. "I bet if you take me home, Gibbs will help you. Or...or we could call him. He'll help you just like he helped me when I was scared and all alone."
"No! No! I have to get out of here!" Fisher said, checking the battery in his burner cell and tossing it into his bag. "I'll head north...Aaron always liked it up north. I'll take you with me, just until I get out of town and then I'll let you call Gibbs and he can come and get you. They'll never find me. They'll never be able to take me back to the hospital."
As the man crossed the room toward the boy, Tony's revolve disappeared and he burst into tears.
"No, no! Please, Mister, please don't take me. Please! I want to go home!"
"I can't leave you here, boy!" Fisher said, trying to get a grip on the squirming child. "It could be days before someone comes by here and finds you."
"No, no, no!" Tony screamed. "Gibbs! Help me!"
Restraining Tony's small wrists in one hand, Fisher lifted the boy over his shoulder and headed out the door of the shed toward his car.
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Patience was never something the former Marine had in abundance and waiting for a break in the case was agonising. He was pouring his fourth cup of coffee when he heard McGee call his name.
"Boss, Metro PD has a sighting of our stolen car travelling north on the I-95," he said.
"Any sign of Tony?" Gibbs asked.
"They're keeping their distance. They didn't want to spook the driver."
Gibbs headed for the door.
"Let's go," he said. "Get a chopper in the air. I don't wanna lose them."
As Kate, McGee, Gibbs and Fornell headed for their sedan at a run; Abby sidled next to Jack and placed her arms around him.
"They'll get him, Jack," she said. "They'll bring him home."
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Gibbs cursed loudly as the car in front braked hard for no apparent reason almost causing a rear-ender. He pulled the wheel hard to the right and blasted the horn before continuing to swerve in and out between slow moving vehicles. Riding shotgun, Fornell pulled his seatbelt a little tighter and grimaced at yet another close call.
In the back seat, McGee and Kate continued to monitor the reports from Metro PD, relaying the location of the car and plotting the course of interception.
"Gibbs, MPD's squad car has been spotted," Kate said. "The stolen car has increased speed and is driving erratically."
"Tell 'em to drop back!" Gibbs ordered. "Where's the damn chopper!"
"Chopper's just arrived, Boss," McGee said. "He's sighted the car and is staying with it."
The traffic ahead had slowed to a stop and, cursing, Gibbs pulled the wheel swiftly to the right. With two wheels mounting the shoulder, he stole along the outside of the road ignoring the cacophony of car horns from indignant drivers and gaining precious minutes. The gap between the vehicles and the fast approaching road sign closed fast and Fornell flinched as the passenger side mirror was violently displaced.
"Cut it a little close there, don't ya think?" Fornell said, looking a little green around the gills.
"You wanna get out, Tobias, I'm not stoppin' ya," Gibbs replied, his focus never leaving the road.
A small break in the traffic appeared and he forced his way across three lanes to take the next exit. The air horn of a semi-truck blasted furiously as the driver stamped hard on the brake to avoid a collision. Fornell released sigh of relief at the near miss.
"Boss," McGee said. "Metro Air report the car is not slowing down. DC Highway Patrol is setting up road spikes five miles ahead of the current location."
"Dammit," Gibbs cursed.
The agency sedan surged forward as the traffic thinned and they took the on ramp that would place them on the I-95 N, just minutes behind the stolen car. Gibbs was confident the power of the agency sedan would be sufficient to make up the distance before the other vehicle reached the road spikes and came to a halt. His heart thumped against his sternum, knowing he was so close to getting Tony back. He stamped down on the gas pedal causing the odometer needle to jump violently and ignored the startled yells from his passengers as he eked every ounce of horsepower from the sedan.
After what seemed like hours but was, in fact, merely minutes, the rear lights of the stolen car came into view, veering erratically as it weaved in and out of slower moving traffic
"The road spikes are just around the next bend, Boss," McGee reported.
The stolen car took the sweeping bend, its driver obviously spotting the road spikes too late as he pulled hard on the wheel and slammed on the brakes. The car careened, fish-tailing wildly as the driver battled for control before slamming into a concrete road barrier with a screech of twisting metal and shattering glass.
"Oh my God," Kate exclaimed from the back seat of the car.
The agency vehicle skidded to a halt and Gibbs heaved open the door and ran toward the twisted wreck. The acrid smell of smoke and gasoline burned his nostrils and cranked his fear factor into overdrive.
"Tony!" he shouted.
He was only ten yards away when the gas tank exploded, completely engulfing the car and throwing him roughly to the road surface. He was immediately back on his feet and attempting to run for the vehicle when Fornell and McGee restrained him, each grabbing an arm and hanging on tightly. Never taking his eyes from the burning vehicle, Gibbs struggled violently against their hold.
"Tony's in there!" he yelled, still against them until Kate stood in front of him, blocking his view to the car.
The look of complete devastation on the young woman's face brought him up short and he stilled.
"Gibbs, it's too late," she said, her voice trembling and tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry...Tony's gone."
Wrenching his arms free of the other men's grip, Gibbs looked despairingly at the burning vehicle. He ran shaking fingers through his hair before taking Kate into his arms as she wept openly.
The next fifteen minutes were unbearably difficult as the EMT and fire trucks arrived to douse the flames. Gibbs and Kate both sat in the agency car ignoring all around them, including their ringing cell phones. Devoid of hope, the two sat united in grief for a brave little boy who had brought light into both their worlds.
Viciously suppressing their own sorrow, McGee and Fornell did their best to liaise with the other agencies when the younger man's cell rang. Answering the call, his jaw dropped open and he staggered slightly before regaining his balance. Fornell frowned in concern as the IT Specialist suddenly sprinted for the car.
"Boss! Boss!"
Throwing open the door of the sedan, McGee stood breathlessly for a moment before holding his cell out for Gibbs to see.
"The Director just called," McGee said. "He's got Tony on the other line...Boss, Tony's alive!"
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A/N – Apologies for the huge delay. I have been living la vida loca. More coming just as soon as I can.