Chapter Twelve
Gibbs spared DiNozzo a quick glance before he whirled around, training his weapon in the area the shot had come from. Dammit! He couldn't see a shooter through the mob of people screaming and ducking for cover. "Get down and stay down," he yelled at some terrified commuters before scrambling over to DiNozzo and clamping his hand on the wound.
"Tony! Tony! Ya stay with me here!" Gibbs tried like hell to shield DiNozzo from a potential shooter while trying to assess his injury. Chest wound, this wasn't good. Wasn't good at all. "Dammit! You hang on for me, ya hear me?"
"Tony?!" Gibbs looked up to see DiNozzo's partner with his gun drawn. He must have been in the diner. The other cops were standing in a semicircle outside the diner, weapons drawn, scanning the area that the shot had come from. "Tony! God! Guys, secure the scene!" Bart holstered his weapon and ran the short distance to where Tony was lying so still.
"Put pressure on his wound," Gibbs said in a rush. "Lifting him on one...two...three." At the count of three, he lifted Tony in his arms and ran for the hospital entrance.
"ER is around the side," Bart called out, jogging alongside Gibbs. His hand was already wet with DiNozzo's blood.
Gibbs followed the building’s exterior, ducking around a corner and finding himself in the ambulance bay. “Gunshot wound, chest, police officer!” he yelled out as they burst through the doors.
A security guard snapped his fingers, rushing over, and a gurney appeared, medical personnel suddenly surrounding them. Gibbs eased Tony onto it and jogged beside Bart as Tony was wheeled into the trauma area. Tony’s partner had been silent since they reached the hospital, his face set in grim lines. When Gibbs and Bart were locked out of the exam room, he cursed almost as loudly as Gibbs.
"He gonna be okay?" Gibbs asked a nurse before she closed the door. She could only shrug, giving him a sympathetic look, and Gibbs flipped his phone open.
"Shouldn't use those in here," Bart commented before looking at his bloody hands.
Gibbs didn't answer him, just dialed Ducky, praying he was still nearby. "Duck! Tony DiNozzo was shot, chest wound. Looks bad. Yeah...ER. Okay." He hung up the phone and leaned against the institutional wall, sighing.
“You see anything?”
“No. We were in the diner,” Bart said in a rush, his voice pitched a little high. “He’s an ass, but none of us want him hurt.”
“Wasn’t accusing.” It was nicer than Gibbs often was, but he knew where the shot had come from, and the direction was completely different from the diner. The cops hadn’t been involved. They might be inept and careless, but Gibbs’ gut wasn’t screaming that they were that crooked.
“Think it’s tied in to Jarvis?” Bart asked, his voice sounding a little calmer.
“Gut says it is,” Gibbs allowed. “Get out there with your men. That’s one of yours in there and you guys deserve answers for him. For your department.” He didn’t feel much like rallying the damned Baltimore PD but he sure as hell didn’t want them hovering around while he was waiting for news on DiNozzo.
Bart nodded and turned away. “Thanks for…” He didn’t finish, just shrugged.
“Keep me posted. Staying here. He’ll be under my personal guard.” There was absolutely no way Gibbs was going to let Tony out of his sight and as soon as Bart was gone, he moved to the small window, watching them work on Tony.
Gibbs wasn’t a medical expert, but he’d dealt with his share of injuries on battlefields and in training accidents. He’d seen his share of mortal gunshot wounds, and this just didn’t feel like one.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
Gibbs knew it was wrong to have formed an emotional attachment to DiNozzo so soon, but there was something about him, something that made Gibbs open up in unexpected ways. Their professional rapport yesterday had given way to the shower and dinner and their physical…thing. Whatever the hell it was. And Gibbs hadn’t been exaggerating when he told DiNozzo that he was too good for the local PD. Today just proved and emphasized that.
“Jethro?” His head snapped up as he heard Ducky’s gentle voice, his accent softened by his decade in America. Some days it was annoying listening to him go on and on about this or that historical fact or remembered story, but right now Gibbs needed to lean on Ducky. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone"not even Ducky"but he needed it badly.
“Duck,” Gibbs greeted, nodding.
“What happened?” Ducky asked. A burst of pure frustration had Gibbs clenching his fists. He wanted answers, not to tell Ducky his side of the story. But the docs were still working on DiNozzo and if he was critical, it could be a while. Gibbs watched as a portable X-ray unit was rushed in and tried to regulate his breathing before he spoke.
“We were going to a diner, place down the block…”
“ You left the conference room? Why?”
“Long story, Duck. I hit some minefield with DiNozzo and he needed to get his head back in the game. He remembered something but then I sidetracked him and he couldn’t get it back. Offered to buy him coffee since he fed me last night. Almost there when he was shot.”
“He wasn’t the only one,” Ducky replied softly, motioning to Gibbs’ arm. A scorch mark ran along the outside of his left forearm, the skin reddened and irritated, blood oozing sluggishly from the wound.
“Not even a damned scratch,” Gibbs growled.
“Was that another bullet or was there only one shot?” Ducky asked, taking Gibbs’ arm in his hand.
“Don’t, Duck. Not while he’s…” Gibbs motioned to the doors of the trauma room. “This doesn’t matter. DiNozzo does.”
“Settle down,” Ducky warned, his voice still low and soothing. “You can’t do anything for the young detective at the moment. Why aren’t you out there trying to discover who did this?”
“The Baltimore cops are securing the scene. I’m not letting him out of my sight. Not when there’s been shots fired.”
“They’re already on the scene?” Ducky sounded surprised. “Do you think these are related issues? Are the police involved or is this tied to that young woman fighting for her life upstairs?” Ducky asked cautiously.
Gibbs nodded. “Related to Jarvis, Duck. Gut is screaming it. Cops are clean though. They’re not the best but DiNozzo being shot shook ‘em up.”
“You’re certain they’re not involved? Do you remember the time when we were in Florence and the police officer there, the lovely redhead…now what was her name? Lucia? You flirted with her and Jennifer was so angry that she"“
“Duck!” Gibbs growled. “Don’t! Shots came from another area. None of ‘em pulled the trigger.” And this didn’t have the sense of a conspiracy within the department as well. “Have enough trouble without borrowing any more.”
Ducky fell silent and Gibbs started pacing, more for something to do than anything else. As he passed the doors, he glanced in, but the medical personnel were clustered so tightly together that Gibbs couldn’t see anything. The voices were so rapid fire and indistinct that he couldn’t get a real sense of how bad it was. And that pissed him off.
Just when he was about to jump out of his skin, a doctor pushed the door open, stripping off bloody gloves. “You bring the officer in?”
“Yeah. How is he?” Gibbs asked, a ball of tension lodging in his chest when the doctor shook his head.
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