Title: Red Peril
Author: Ceindreadh
Email: Ceindreadh@eircom.net
Website: n/a
Permission to archive: Yes to WWOMB, anybody else, please ask first.
Fandom(s): NCIS
Genre (general, hetero or slash) : slash/action
Rating: T
Warnings:
Disclaimer. I don't own the NCIS characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.
Previously on NCIS. A private detective was hired to have Tony beaten up. McGee managed to scare off the attackers but the police suspected he was responsible. While Ducky watched over an injured Tony at Bethesda, Gibbs and the team worked to find the real assailants.
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[7]
Gibbs pulled to a halt in front of an apartment building. "We go in and we take him alive," he said to Ziva, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "That clear?"
"Of course," said Ziva, as she checked her weapon. "Alive yes...uninjured?"
Gibbs shrugged, "So long as he's able to make a full confession." Personally, he wasn't going to lose much sleep if the perp...no, if the *suspect* tried to resist arrest. The chance to dish out some payback for Tony's injuries...Gibbs would have been lying if he'd said he'd pass up the opportunity should it come up. But he'd told the Director that he'd follow procedure even if it killed him.
And having to wait while they'd scared up a judge to issue a warrant *had* damn near driven Gibbs to distraction. All the time he'd spent pacing up and down in the bullpen, certain that by the time he'd get the paperwork that it'd be too late. But finally it had come through and Gibbs had broken even his own record for reckless driving in order to get to the suspects home. Even Ziva was looking a little queasy by the time they arrived.
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In the end it was a bit of an anti-climax thought Gibbs. Sid Wilson had put his hands up the moment Gibbs and Ziva had burst though his door. Well, technically he'd only put one hand up...the other being somewhat immobilized by a makeshift bandage. Once brought to N.C.I.S., McGee had confirmed that Wilson was one of the men he'd seen attacking Tony.
Gibbs knew that once the D.N.A. from the blood on Tony's clothing was matched to Wilson, that would be it. Eyewitness testimony, plus D.N.A. evidence...no jury in the state would acquit him. But it wasn't enough for Gibbs. He knew that Wilson's accomplice was still out there and he still had no idea as to *why* they had targeted Tony. Wilson had denied any involvement and then shut up.
"I'm working as fast as I can, Gibbs," said Abby, "But D.N.A. typing takes time. You'll just have to wait."
"Boss, we'll get a D.N.A. match for sure," said McGee, "And once Wilson sees how much evidence there is against him, he's sure to squeal on his accomplice to get a better deal."
"The longer we wait, the more time the other perp has to get away and cover his tracks," said Gibbs. "Abby, let me know as soon as you get a result. I'll be having a chat with Wilson."
"Will you deal with him on your own?" asked Ziva.
Gibbs appeared to ponder the question for a few seconds before saying, "No...not this time." Ziva and McGee both moved towards the door, only to stop in their tracks as Gibbs said, "Palmer, you're with me!"
Ziva and McGee looked at each other in surprise. Jimmy's mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to squeak, "Me, Boss? I...I mean, Sir...I mean Gibbs. But I...I don't know anything about interrogations!"
"Don't sweat it, Palmer," said Gibbs, "I'll brief you on the way. Come on." He walked out of the lab without a backwards glance.
Jimmy looked around at the others, a look of panic on his face.
"Go on, Jimmy," said Ziva, pushing him towards the door. "Better not keep Gibbs waiting!"
There was an audible gulp from Jimmy as he stumbled towards the exit.
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Gibbs took a seat across from Wilson and smiled at him. "So, you want to tell me why exactly you beat up one of my agents last night?"
Wilson said nothing, but Gibbs noticed the way he'd tensed at the mention of Tony being an N.C.I.S. agent.
"Ah, that's right, you weren't anywhere near that alley. It's not your blood on Special Agent DiNozzo's shirt. You weren't shot by Special Agent McGee. It's just pure coincidence that you managed to cut yourself shaving last night." Still no response.
Gibbs nodded almost imperceptibly towards the door, and a few minutes later Jimmy Palmer walked in. He was gloved and gowned as if ready to perform an autopsy, and carried a small cloth covered tray in front of him.
"Something you should probably know about the man that you 'didn't attack' last night," said Gibbs in a conversational tone of voice. "See, round about a year ago, he managed to come in contact with a pretty nasty disease. What was it called again?"
"Y-Pestis," said Jimmy, "Commonly known as the Black Death...or Plague."
"Yes," said Gibbs, "A rather nasty little bug. Specially designed to make it resistant to antibiotics. You get a dose of that and you've got maybe a thirty percent chance of survival. Agent DiNozzo was very lucky; see he was fit and healthy when he got infected. He hadn't any recent injuries...hadn't lost any blood from a gunshot wound. And he barely survived."
Gibbs noticed a bead of sweat appear on Wilson's forehead as he continued, "Agent DiNozzo recovered, but the thing about bugs like that, when you manage to fight them off, you're left with...what's the word?"
"Antibodies, Agent Gibbs," said Jimmy.
"Thank you, Mr. Palmer," said Gibbs. "So Agent DiNozzo has all these antibodies to the plague swirling around in his blood. They can't harm him because he's already had the plague...but if his blood was to get on somebody else...maybe get into an open wound...like say from a gunshot...you ever hear of Typhoid Mary?"
The bead of sweat had been joined by several others as Wilson swallowed hard.
"Of course, since you weren't anywhere near Agent DiNozzo when he got attacked," said Gibbs, "You wouldn't have gotten any of his blood on you because you weren't the one beating him with an iron bar. So there's no chance that you could be developing a case of Y-Pestis of your own...and no chance that you'd be needing an antidote." He turned to Jimmy, "Guess I won't be needing you after all, Mr. Palmer."
"No problem," said Jimmy as he turned and headed for the door. He only got two steps before Wilson said in a choked voice, "Wait!"
Gibbs had a carefully neutral expression on his face as he looked at Wilson, "Something on your mind?"
"That...that antidote..." stammered Wilson. "I...what if I need it?"
Gibbs shrugged, "If you weren't anywhere near Agent DiNozzo, then you've got nothing to worry about." He started counting silently to himself, reaching six before Wilson spoke.
"I...I was there, now please, give me the antidote...I...I don't want to die!"
"You think maybe Agent DiNozzo felt the same way when you were bashing his brains in with an iron bar?" Gibbs's voice was harsh as he leaned across the table.
In spite of himself, Jimmy took a step back against the wall, away from Gibbs and his barely controlled rage.
"We didn't...we weren't trying to kill him...we just, we were just paid to hurt him," stammered Wilson. "We...we were told to mark his face...but to leave him alive..."
"I want names," growled Gibbs, "Who paid you, and why?"
"I don't know! The guy calls us up when he needs a job doing. We don't ask questions, we just do what we're paid to do and then call him when it's done. I swear, I don't know why he wanted your guy hurt, I'll tell you everything I know, but please, just give me that antidote!"
"Antidote?" said Gibbs. "Don't know what you're talking about. Palmer here was just bringing me refreshments." He pulled the cloth off the tray to reveal a cup of coffee.
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To be continued
Ceindreadh
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs and the team are finally making progress in the search for Tony's attackers.