Chapter 6

After leaving the evidence with Abby and giving her news on McGee-which required that Gibbs spend some time comforting her as well-they headed up to Interrogation to get a first look at their suspect.

Brandon Martin was seated at the table, his hands clasped in front of him and resting on the table top. He looked confused and nervous, but Tony suspected that was an act. If he was going to pull the 'innocent teenager' (admittedly pushing it since he was a month shy of his 20th birthday) then Tony was ready for him.

Gibbs and Tony left Ellie in the observation room and entered Interrogation. Brandon looked up as they entered, still broadcasting his nervousness as they seated themselves in the chairs on the opposite side of the table.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, this is Special Agent DiNozzo. Brandon Martin, you've been advised of your rights?" Gibbs voice was flat, neutral, but Tony could see the anger brewing beneath the veneer of calm.

Brandon stared at him for a few second before answering. "Yes."

"You've refused a lawyer?"

"Yeah, because I didn't do anything wrong! They didn't even tell me exactly why they arrested me and dragged me in here, something about kidnapping, but I never did anything like that, I swear!"

"We wouldn't have brought you in without a good reason, don't you think?" Tony retorted as he opened the folder he had carried in with him and extracted a few sheets of paper which he placed in front of Brandon. "You work for a company that rents water trucks. One of those trucks was found in the location where our missing agent was recovered."

Brandon checked the information on the sheet. "We reported that truck stolen yesterday." His brows knitted together in confusion. "Why would someone need a water truck to kidnap an agent?"

"You needed the water to drown him."

Brandon's eyes widened in horror. "Drown him? He...he's dead?"

"We found him in time."

He slumped against his chair, radiating relief. "That's good. But why do you think I had something to do with this?"

"Where we found our agent, there was a webcam recording what was happening. The feed was being broadcast through a website, and we were warned that any attempts to trace it would have consequences. A supposedly untraceable feed. Sound familiar?"

"No."

"That's funny, because you were bragging about your ability to create an untraceable feed on another website." Gibbs slid a few more pages across the table. "Chat logs. The username was traced to an account under the name of Blake Martin. Your father."

Brandon's whole demeanor changed as his eyes filled with hatred. "My father is dead."

"Yes, we know. He died in prison, where we put him. You decided to carry out a little vengeance in return."

The young man let out a bitter laugh. "Hardly. You people did me a favor. My father was a violent son-of-a-bitch and the greatest day of my life was when you hauled him off to jail. Vengeance is the last thing I'd want." He leaned forward and looked Tony in the eye. "I swear to you, on...on everything, that I had nothing to do with this." He shook his head. "I know you've probably heard this before, but someone is setting me up. I don't know who, or why, but it's happening. I had nothing to do with this!"

"Your fingerprints are on the truck," Gibbs replied, and Tony knew he was bluffing, but he waited to see if the gambit would pay off.

Brandon snorted. "Yeah, because I worked for the company that owns it! I've probably driven it some time in the last week. It's my job to fill the trucks when someone rents one."

"Aren't you a little young to have the right license to drive those?"

"I only drive them on the lot. My boss...he's a friend. Don't get him in trouble because of this, please."

"We'll need to talk to him."

"Fine, great. He'll back up everything I told you. Everything, including the stuff about...my father."

"Where were you between last night at 8 PM and this afternoon?"

"With my girlfriend, Lisa Evans. All night. Then we drove to school together this morning. We go to the College of Southern Maryland, main campus. Check it out."

"We will."

"Great. Thank you. Can I go now?"

"Not yet."

"Well, then can you at least let me have my bookbag so I can study?"

"We'll see what we can do."

Brandon huffed and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, clearly projecting annoyance. Tony and Gibbs left to have a quick debriefing in the hallway.

"You believe him?"

"I'll wait to see what Abby has to say."

"Gibbs!" Abby yelled as she rounded the corner and saw them.

"Speak of the devil...thanks, Boss."

"What do ya got, Abbs?"

"I did find Brandon Martin's fingerprints on the truck. They were in the database for child-care clearance-he works at his mother's daycare part time as well as at the truck rental place."

"Abbs!"

"Right, sorry. The cab of the truck was clean, but I found a print on the seat belt buckle. Little creep forgot about that part when he wiped the cab down."

"You got a hit on the print?"

"Yep, and you'll never guess whose it is."

"You're right, I won't. Tell me."

She smiled.

XXX

"Enjoy your flight, Mr. Anderson."

'Mr. Anderson' gave her his most charming smile. "I'm sure I will. Thank you." He took his first-class ticket and walked to the VIP lounge. It was much quieter inside and he sat down in one of the surprisingly comfortable leather chairs to relax before his one-way flight to Samoa, the only non-extradition country he felt comfortable visiting. He figured he could slip from there to a larger country where it was easier to disappear once the heat was off.

He leaned back in his chair and gave a soft laugh. He'd played his part well, but was surprised how easy it had been. He suspected it had something to do with still being perceived as a 'geek', a label he despised but found he could still use to his advantage for some things. It was how he had made his fortune, after all.

He frowned. Luckily he had hidden most of his money, but what he had earned in his other job would be lost in the divorce, including the house and custody of his kids. He hated the thought of leaving them, but his wife had been poisoning them against him for years. He doubted they would miss him much. And his wife...he should have seen what she was years ago, but he'd been too focused on his little hobby: getting revenge on NCIS.

Acting out his carefully planned crime had been far easier than he expected, although he had accounted for every scenario he could envision. He'd been surprised at how quickly Gibbs had agreed to play the game, and even more surprised at how quickly the team had solved the puzzle. Perhaps they weren't as stupid as he believed. Then again, the addition of the former NSA agent to the team, in the absence of McGee, had clearly raised the IQ level beyond what he was expecting. Still, they were no match for him, demonstrated by the ease with which he had fooled them during their ill-conceived 'interrogation'.

With a smile he leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the need to relax a bit before his flight. Less than an hour and he'd be on his way out of the country, and out of Gibbs' reach for good.

"Hello, Urkel."

His eyes snapped open and he looked up to find two very pissed-off NCIS agents standing over him. "How...how did you find me?"

"Took a chance you'd skip town. Sent out a BOLO with your picture. Child's play."

"But-"

"Here's a hint: when you're wiping down a crime scene, make sure you don't miss a spot. We found a print." Agent DiNozzo leaned into his personal space and Frankel pressed himself into the back of the seat as far as he could. "Led us right to you. Looks like you're not as smart as you think you are, Geek."

"Don't call me that!"

Gibbs slammed his fist into the seat next to Frankel's head which silenced his protests immediately.

"Why'd you do it?"

"D-do what?"

Gibbs slammed his other fist into the chair on the other side of Frankel, causing him to flinch.

"Why did you try and kill McGee?"

"I...I think I'd like a lawyer. You didn't read me my rights-"

"You haven't been arrested yet. Don't need to. You should know that. What did they teach you in law school?"

"But-"

"Get up." Gibbs stood, freeing Frankel from his seat and he gingerly rose to his feet.

"Put your hands above your head," DiNozzo commanded, and Frankel quickly complied. "Stick out your tongue." He did so without hesitation and DiNozzo grinned. "Still a gargoyle, and not one of the good ones. "Now you're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…"

Frankel listened, his fury growing as DiNozzo recited the warning to him for the second time in his life. Only this time, he knew he wasn't getting off easy.

XXX

Tony carefully opened the door and peered inside, observing the figure on the bed for a few moments before slipping inside the room and closing the door. McGee was covered from head to toe in warming blankets but still shivered every few minutes. Tony checked the monitors and noticed that McGee's temperature had risen to 95.5 F, still cold but finally out of hypothermia range, according to Ducky. Tony had absorbed that bit of info during the brief update he'd been given before entering McGee's room.

McGee had a cannula providing a steady flow of oxygen, something else that Ducky had said was necessary after being revived, especially since he had also nearly drowned. They would be monitoring him for signs of pneumonia as well, but all signs pointed to a full recovery. Physically, at least.

Tony had tried to imagine what it must have been like for McGee, stuck in that well, feeling the water rising and knowing his time was limited. And when that time had been so cruelly cut in half…

That was the part Tony hated the most. Frankel had manipulated them all, making them believe they were at fault for shortening the time they had to find McGee, when in fact he had planned it. He admitted that he knew someone would try and track him, so he set the trap and waited for an answer. It was just another way of twisting the knife in the heart of the team...and another way to torture McGee.

What Tony really couldn't understand at first was why Frankel had gone to so much trouble, but during his confession Frankel had admitted he had never forgiven the MCRT for ending his military career, which led to his family disowning him. Frankel admitted he had targeted McGee because he felt he was a traitor-one geek attacking another who was just trying to help, after all. Tony gritted his teeth at the memory. Frankel was clearly delusional, but not enough to warrant the insanity defense he was trying for. Gibbs made sure of that.

Tony saw McGee stir slightly and approached his bed, waiting for his friend to regain consciousness. He rested one of his hands against McGee's forehead and was rewarded with the sight of a pair of glazed green eyes opening to groggily stare back at him.

"Hey, Tim. Welcome back."

McGee blinked and his forehead crinkled slightly as he tried to figure out the meaning of Tony's greeting.

"Tim? You with me?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"How are you feeling?"

His teeth chattered slightly. "Cold."

"They're working on that. You were almost a McPopsicle."

"What...happened?"

"What do you remember?"

He hesitated before answering. "Call out. Left my apartment...it was a trap. Someone attacked. Drugged. Woke up and...it was dark. Standing, tied up. Camera watching...then the water." The heart monitor started beeping faster and Tony rubbed McGee's shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

"It's OK. You're safe. We found you in time." He refrained from adding 'barely'. Tim didn't need to know that right now.

"Why...would someone...do this?"

"Oh, man. That's a long story."

"Listening."

"Right. You you remember the case, ten years ago or so, with the ROTC members being killed over some stupid assassination game?"

McGee thought for a few moments and slowly nodded. "One was...sending clues."

"Yeah, Urkel. Turns out he didn't appreciate being dragged into interrogation, or the fact his stunt cost him his place in ROTC. And his career."

"But...ten years?"

"'Revenge is a dish best eaten cold'. Old Spanish proverb."

"You got that...from Ducky, didn't you?"

Tony chuckled. "You know me too well, Tim."

"Sometimes. So all of this was just...getting back at us for something he did?"

"Yep."

"Damn."

"Couldn't agree more."

"So...what happens now?"

"Well, Frankel will spend some quality time as the guest of Uncle Sam, you are going to get all warmed up and out of here, and I am never looking at a museum the same way again."

"Museum?"

"Yeah. Urkel had us running all over the National Mall looking in museums and art galleries for clues to lead us to you." He winced. "Sorry it took us so long. You must have been...miserable."

"Stopped feeling anything...after a few hours."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"But you are going to be OK. Boss's orders."

McGee gave him a weak smile. "Wouldn't expect anything less." He thought for a moment. "What were the clues?"

"Oh, man. That would take even longer to explain."

"Still listening."

Tony grinned. "And I am ever so glad for that." As the memories resurfaced, Tony's grin faded. "We thought… Well, that doesn't matter. We figured it out, and that's all that does."

"Thanks...for finding me."

"You're welcome. You can repay me by never letting that happen again. Clear?"

Tim smiled and nodded, his eyes drifting shut as he fell into a-thankfully-peaceful sleep.

Tony watched his partner and friend, finally believing that Tim would be OK. Eventually.

That was all that mattered.

The End