The young man could hear the bustle of activity going on around him. He kept his head cradled against his knees, trying to ignore the myriad of noises that only seemed to exacerbate the pounding in his skull. Why was this happening to him? He had always made a special effort to stay out of trouble, especially after his first couple of run-ins with the police. Now, he was sitting here, the only suspect in the apparent murder of a naval officer, waiting to be questioned by some agency he had never heard of before.
Todd heard the sound of footsteps approaching; his body tensed as someone knelt down in front of him. The scent of sawdust assaulted his nostrils and he surprisingly found the smell to be oddly comforting. He had to fight the urge to flee as he felt the stranger’s eyes upon him. Todd knew that whoever this was would more than likely be disgusted by his unkempt appearance, but it didn’t matter; he was used to being viewed as nothing more than a piece of trash.
“Todd?”
A man’s voice called out to him, but he refused to move. Gently shaking him, the man said his name once again. “Todd?”
Slowly lifting his head, he blinked his eyes several times, trying to bring into focus the image of the person in front of him. He finally managed to meet the gaze of a man wearing a dark jacket and hat. It unnerved Todd that this man seemed to able to look right through him.
Todd flinched as the man reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes; his hand was shaking and his voice held a slight tremor when he finally spoke. “Tony?”
Confused, Todd mumbled, “Huh?”
“Tony, it’s me. It’s Gibbs.”
He tried to scoot away but Todd quickly realized that he had nowhere to go. The inebriated man felt like a caged animal. His first instinct was to lash out at his captor, but there was something in the man’s voice that stopped him.
“Tony, do you know who I am?” Gibbs asked.
“Todd,” he drunkenly stammered. “My name’s Todd. Not Tony.”
“Todd,” the older man repeated. “What’s your last name, Todd?”
“Don’t know.”
He wasn’t sure if Gibbs believed him. Ever since he had awakened in the alley that night, the only name that he could come up with was Todd. As far as he was concerned, he never needed a last name. It was easier to lose yourself in a crowd if you only had to worry about remembering one name. Of course, there were some days that he woke up with such a hangover that he could barely remember that.
“You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?” Gibbs challenged.
“Don’t know,” Todd forcibly repeated.
Gibbs nodded. “All right, just take it easy. My name is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and I work for NCiS.”
“They said they were…calling you,” he said.
“Who?”
“The cops.”
Todd noticed the visible lines of anger on the agent’s face and he suddenly felt afraid. Surely Gibbs wasn’t mad because he didn’t have a last name. He jumped when Gibbs patted his knee. “Just hang tight,” the agent instructed. “I’ll be right back.”
He watched with interest as Special Agent Gibbs ran over and grabbed a man and a woman by the arm and drug them behind the truck. When Todd could no longer see him, he laid his head back down on his knees and began to try and make sense of everything that had happened. He silently wished that if Gibbs was going to arrest him that the agent would go ahead and take him in, maybe he would be able to get a hot meal and ride out the storm.
Despite his aching head, Todd couldn’t help but wonder why Agent Gibbs had called him Tony. Gibbs had seemed so sure that he was this Tony and part of him felt like he had disappointed the man when he had insisted that he wasn’t. He wasn’t anyone, or so he’d been told by several individuals. Todd decided that the NCIS agent had to be mistaken, but he had the nagging feeling that Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn’t make a lot of mistakes.
Todd made the decision that he had to get away from Agent Gibbs as quickly as possibly. It wasn’t going to be an easy task considering that he wasn’t steady on his feet and he was still handcuffed. Placing his back against the wall, he tried unsuccessfully to stand up. Panicking, he began to pull against his handcuffs, ignoring the biting pain as the metal dug into his flesh.
He closed his eyes, hoping that the world around him would stop spinning long enough for him to get free. Once again, Todd found himself wanting a drink; maybe if he could just simply pass out again, he would wake up later to discover that this was all a bad dream.
“Todd?”
He opened his eyes to find Gibbs standing over him. Did the agent realize that he had been trying to escape? Todd waited for the blow to come, but it never did. Instead, the agent knelt down and removed his handcuffs. “Can you stand?” Gibbs asked.
“Haven’t tried in a while,” Todd lied.
“Let me help you.”
Todd didn’t resist as Gibbs helped him to his feet. He immediately began to sway, but the agent was there steadying him so he didn’t sink back to the ground. Gibbs slowly led him over to an old crate and sat him down.
“Am…I…under…arrest?” Todd inquired, gritting his teeth against the nausea and pain that still threatened to overwhelm him.
The agent shook his head. “No, not at the moment. I do need to ask you some questions though.”
He could hear the agent speaking, but Gibbs’ words sounded garbled to his ears. Todd knew that the effects of his latest drinking binge were becoming more obvious and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to even function. He nervously licked his lips, “The cops think that…I killed that guy.”
“Did you?”
Todd was taken aback by the agent’s abruptness. His eyes narrowed as he thought about the Gibbs’ question. “I don’t…think so,” he finally answered.
“Neither do I,” Gibbs declared.
“So, can I go?”
“Not yet. I…”
“You said I wasn’t under arrest.”
“You’re not, but I’ve got to take you into custody so I can get your statement.”
“Take it here,” Todd demanded.
Gibbs pointed to the sky. “Storm’s coming. We have to get finished up here pretty quickly, so I’m going to take you back to NCIS where we can talk.”
“Then what?”
“Then after we take your statement, we’ll just have to see what happens.”
Todd knew that he didn’t have a choice but to go with the agent. Gibbs seemed to believe in his innocence, but the man was also convinced that his name was Tony. He wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill that was racking his body. Todd nodded and allowed the agent to guide him towards the black sedan that had just arrived.
He ignored the stares of the others as Gibbs opened the front passenger door for him. Todd thought it was odd that Gibbs didn’t put him in the back seat since he was in custody, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care where he sat. He laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Maybe he could convince Jethro Gibbs to stop somewhere for a drink; Todd didn’t want to be sober when the agent questioned him. Not that he was sober now, but that wasn’t the point.
Once they got to wherever it is they were going, he had a feeling that Gibbs was going to try and convince him that he was Tony. He came to the realization that whoever this Tony was, he had to be important to Agent Gibbs. Was Tony his son? That would explain why the older man seemed so desperate. Todd sighed. How had his life suddenly become so complicated?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Ziva and McGee stood around the truck and watched the car fade in the distance. They couldn’t help but wonder if the man that Gibbs had taken into custody was their colleague and friend, Tony DiNozzo. The team leader had seemed convinced as he had pulled them aside earlier and informed them of his discovery. Gibbs had given the two agents their assignments and had ordered Ziva to secure some kind of transportation for him and Tony back to NCIS. She had called in a favor and an officer from Baltimore PD had brought a car for Gibbs to use.
The Mossad officer returned to shooting the crime scene while McGee continued to collect evidence. She took a picture of a tarnished looking flask lying under the Navy officer’s body. “There it is,” she muttered.
“What?” McGee asked.
“The two police officers said that Todd…I mean Tony, killed the lieutenant over a flask. There it is,” she pointed.
She watched as McGee picked it up with his gloved hand and slipped it into an evidence bag. Ziva could tell that her partner wanted to say something. “What is it, McGee?”
“Do you think it’s Tony?” Tim finally asked.
“I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but the man in question seemed to be about the same height and build, although he’s thinner than Tony was. I don’t know, but Gibbs is apparently convinced that it is Tony and I have learned to trust his gut,” she said.
“I don’t think he looked like Tony at all,” McGee whispered.
“Why not?”
McGee shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t think that Tony would allow himself to look like that. He’s filthy and his hair is all matted and dirty. And did you see his eyes? He’s smashed.”
“Smashed?”
“Drunk,” McGee explained.
“That may be, McGee, but it doesn’t change the fact that this man could be Tony.”
He shrugged. “I hope it is, for all our sakes. But we’ve also got to be realistic about this; what if Tony actually killed this man? Then what? We find him only to send him to prison?”
“You have a point, but I don’t think Tony killed him,” Ziva said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I...I just don’t.”
“That’s not going to hold up if this goes to court,” McGee stated.
Ziva knew McGee was right, but at the moment, the only thing they could do was work together to prove Tony’s innocence. “We won’t let it get that far,” she assured him.
The two continued working in companionable silence for the next few minutes. “Todd,” she whispered.
McGee looked up as he bagged the last item of evidence. “What did you say?”
“Tony’s alias when he went on his last undercover operation was Todd. Don’t you remember, McGee?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Todd Gibbs. That was the name he used. Todd Gibbs. Do you think the Boss remembers?”
Ziva smiled. “I’m sure he does, McGee. I’m sure he does.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Gibbs was still reeling from the events of the morning. Part of him couldn’t believe that he had found Tony and that he was alive. Although the man seated next to him insisted that his name was Todd, there was no doubt in the team leader’s mind that this was Anthony DiNozzo. His first instinct had been to start firing questions at his senior agent in order to find out what happened. But the confused expression on the younger man’s face made him think twice. He wasn’t sure he would get any answers until Tony sobered up.
After the initial shock of discovering that his missing agent was alive, he went over and briefly told Ziva and McGee what he had just learned. Gibbs knew that they wanted to see Tony for themselves, but he ordered them to keep their distance. He had instructed Ziva to find him a car so that he and Tony could return to NCIS headquarters and then she and McGee could finish working the crime scene. Truthfully, the last thing on Leroy Jethro Gibbs’ mind was the dead lieutenant, but he knew that he could count on his team to do their job.
Now, they were on their way back to D.C. and Tony appeared to be sleeping. DiNozzo had managed to wake up and ask for a drink, but Gibbs had just smiled and said, “Not right now.” It was Gibbs’ intention to pump Tony full of coffee, his kind of coffee, when they got back to NCIS. He would also make sure that DiNozzo got a hot shower, clean clothes, and something to eat.
Gibbs winced when he realized that Tony would need to be examined to make sure that he was all right physically. What was he thinking? All anyone had to do was look at Tony to know that he wasn’t well. He grabbed his phone and punched the speed dial number that would connect him with Ducky.
“Duck, where are you?”
He grinned as he heard Ducky fussing at Palmer for his sudden stop. “We’re about ten miles away from the crime scene, Jethro. Mr. Palmer missed the detour sign and now we are stuck in construction traffic.”
Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m getting ready to meet you on the other side. I need you to come back to NCIS with me.”
“But I have to go and…”
“That’s what you got Palmer for,” the agent snapped. “Ziva and McGee will help Jimmy, I need you.
“What on earth is wrong, Jethro?” the ME anxiously inquired.
“I see the truck. Get out and meet me on the other side,” he ordered. “I’ll pull over and wait on you.”
Jethro closed his phone and tossed it on the seat. Ignoring the blaring horns, he swerved across the two lanes of traffic until he reached the emergency stopping lane. He smiled in amusement as he watched the ME carefully cut through the construction site and cross the road on foot, apologizing profusely to those who were swearing and gesturing obscenely at him.
He glanced over to see his passenger looking around, dazed and confused. “I had to make a quick stop,” Gibbs explained. He unlocked the door behind him as Ducky slid into the back seat.
Slightly out of breath, Ducky pitched his hat next to him on the seat. “I swear, Jethro, one of these days, you’re going to be the death of me. I’ve done some rather daring things in my time, but this is one I wouldn’t care to repeat again. It actually reminds me of the time…”
“Not now, Duck.” Gibbs pulled back out in traffic and sped down the highway.
“Of course,” the ME agreed.
Gibbs saw Ducky studying the young man sitting beside him. The team leader saw the glint of recognition in the older man’s eye. “Duck, I’d like to you to meet…Todd.”
“It’s a pleasure, Todd.”
The young man nodded and closed his eyes again. Within a few minutes, Gibbs could hear Tony’s soft snoring, indicating that the agent was sound asleep again. “It’s him, Duck. It’s Tony. I found him at the crime scene. He doesn’t even remember his name. Just calls himself Todd.”
“He looks dreadful, Jethro,” the ME observed.
“Yeah.”
“Has he said anything at all?”
“Not really. He just asks for a drink every now and then.”
“A drink as in…a drink?”
Gibbs nodded. “He had passed out next to our dead naval officer. Baltimore PD found him searching the guy for his flask and saw that he had blood on his hands. They cuffed him and handed him over to us.”
He hit the steering wheel in frustration “I don’t know what I should do next. He’s a suspect, but at the same time…”
“He’s Tony,” Ducky finished.
“Yeah.”
“First thing we need to do is check him over.”
“Well, yeah, Duck. That’s why I called you.”
Nonplussed, the doctor continued. “Secondly, we need to see what he remembers and how far his memory goes back. If he has no memory of his past life and has created this new one, then we could have a new set of problems that is beyond our area of expertise.”
“We have to get Tony back, Duck. We have to.”
“We will, Jethro,” Ducky promised. “We just have to move slowly.”
“That’s just it, Duck,” Gibbs growled. “If the evidence comes back saying that he killed that officer, then we don’t have a lot of time. Time is not on our side right now.”
Gibbs pressed the accelerator, passing several cars until he could settle into an open stretch of road. Time was running out and he was not any closer to getting any answers to the questions that kept plaguing him. Where had Tony been this past year? What was he doing in Baltimore? Had Tony truly been living on the streets for the last year? DiNozzo looked as if he had aged ten years and it troubled the team leader when he realized that he had no idea how much Tony had been forced to endure, but he was determined to find out.
Chapter End Notes:
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