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2011-10-05 04:07:20
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The Gun's Lust: Chapter Six



GL Chapter One
GL Chapter Two
GL Chapter Three
GL Chapter Four
GL Chapter Five
GL Chapter Six
GL Chapter Seven

Tony was standing with a grim smile on his face on the other side of the door that Ziva had pushed him through. Banging from the guard whom he'd duped sounded and he remembered himself. Timothy was in trouble and he needed to get to him. The problem was finding out what Gibbs, Ziva and Abby had discovered without getting caught. For Timothy's sake, he could do it. He wasn't lead detective on his good looks…well, not only. He grinned to himself and slipped down the hallway away from the interrogation room.

The bullpen was closing in and he eased his pace, waiting and watching. No one was at this end of the office building and he could see Gibbs and Ziva grabbing their guns and badges. They'd found something in the hour and half that Tony had been shut away. He checked his watch. They'd be down to the cars in about three minutes. From here, Tony could use the back door and get there in two if he ran. Turning tail he sped down the back stairwell, hand reaching for his hip and finding his spare gun at the small of his back. Rounding the second stairwell he checked quickly for his badge, finding it tucked safely in the pocket of his dress pants.

He pushed open the backdoor and paused, expecting an alarm to go off. Nothing. He exhaled and ran out, hitting the chill of an early winter air. No jacket, well tough shit. He pushed himself faster and spun around the corner to a complete halt. Gibbs and Ziva were climbing into a work issued black SUV. If he was quick he could get his own and follow at a discrete distance. He just couldn't lose Gibbs or Ziva. Both were dangerous drivers and he'd have his work cut out for him following after.

Timothy's head snapped to the side from a backhanded lash. At this point the feeling pouring through him from the hit wasn't much. It merely sent a jolt through the numb, aching buzz that consumed his body. He'd be in pain for weeks if he made it out alive.

"Now, Agent, you're going to tell me where they would hide dear Anthony Dinozzo." The voice made Tim cringe and grit his teeth.

With the blindfold still on everything was disorienting. The voice never came from the same place twice. It moved, quietly. That was worse than the pain, the never knowing, and the expecting. For long moments his ears were meant with silence. He had to stop breathing to hear anything around him. Wind. It was windy outside and a distant car passed off the road from the docks, more than likely. A sudden stabbing pain ran up his leg and made his head spin dangerously. "Gaah!" he yelled out leaning against the ropes holding him to the chair. Whatever was slammed into his leg was dragged out bringing Timothy a clear sense of pain. His foggy mind was cleared up instantly and the pain was fresh. "I don't know. At NCIS headquarters, in some low rent hotel, fucking France for all I know. I've been stuck here with you, how should I know where Tony is?" Timothy yelled out in the direction he thought the man might be in.

A voice came from behind him, away from where he thought it would. "Well, at least you're talking now. How about a name? Do I get a name yet, Agent? This could be so much more personal; we could really bond with a name you know."

"Yeah, screw you," Timothy was panting, fighting the pounding sting in his thigh where the blade of some sort had been pulled from. He'd been doing so good, keeping his mouth shut, but he was reaching breaking point. Anytime now, guys. Burst through that door- like always… He'd have cried if he wasn't worried about looking strong for whenever Tony burst in to help him.

"That's not very nice, Agent. Let's work on your manners, shall we?" the man asked and chuckled low in his throat.

The gurgle of laughter had Timothy holding his breath and waiting for another kind of pain to run through him. The numbness that had been there before was well missed the next twenty or so minutes. The pain was getting him to talk, little pieces, trying to appease the man enough for breathing room. The sound of a gunshot reverberated around the large warehouse and Timothy McGee slipped into the dark recesses of his mind.

Tony kept up fairly well, but perhaps a bit too closely. If Gibbs did notice he didn't waste any time trying to ditch Tony on some side road. He was intent on his target and Dinozzo was thankful for that. There wasn't time to argue with another, even in the way of car chases. He sped up, making sure that he made it to the spot Timothy was being held, hoping against any and all odds that his Probie was safe. Too much had happened between them to let it all go to hell now. Of course, Tony didn't have too much of a say about matters at this point in time.

They were headed for the docks, he realized as Gibbs' car disappeared down a road Tony was familiar with. This was where the big drug bust had gone down, where the shot out had occurred, where he'd killed…If Timothy wasn't alive, there would be more blood on Tony's hands this day.

Pulling his car next to Gibbs' he tensed ready for the look, maybe a slap, possibly even a shot to the leg. None of that would stop Anthony Dinozzo today. "Boss, I'm not leaving."

Gibbs looked at him as he climbed out of the car, anger chilling his gaze. "Dinozzo, as soon as this is over, you're on desk duty for two months. I'm not exaggerating." He pulled his gun up and motioned quietly for Ziva and Tony to follow, cutting the argument short. He motioned for Ziva to go to one side, Tony the other and he took the path right down the middle. They'd surrounded the building, the three of them, and each with a prayer to something that they'd be able to do this. Impractical, yes, but a plan that all three were just fine with.

Timothy McGee blinked hard against the light shinning in his face. He shifted in the hard wooden seat and gasped at the pain that ran through his body. He couldn't move his hands; the rope was cutting into his wrists when he just sat there, the pain of him moving them made his head reel in a dangerous spin, one that threatened to make him black out again.

Concentrating on his breathing, Timothy looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His memory was hazy but flashes of his recent torture and questioning flashed violently through his head, too rapidly to make much sense of. Taking a deep breath he shifted again, cringing against the pain that ran through him, and tried to get at least a glance behind him.

A shadowy figure moved and strong hands gripped his shoulders, fingers biting into wounds on his bare skin. Timothy yelped out and his head jerked backwards as he tried to slide out from under the grip on him. He shut his eyes hard against the pain but was also thankful for it. He was feeling, he wasn't numb and wasn't blacking out. That could mean that he was going to make it through this yet. "Tony…" he muttered under his breath.

"What?" a dark voice snapped from behind him, echoing across the nearly empty warehouse in an echo. "What did you say? Are you finally giving in, Timothy?" There was a smile in the voice, the dark smile of a viper.

A tight grip on his short brown hair jerked him back and he felt his head hit hardened abs. That wasn't what was bothering him, though. The bitter taste of a recently used gun barrel, the pain of hard metal slamming into his mouth and jamming against the back of his throat and the sound of a cocking gun, that made him worry.

He closed his eyes, one image passing through his mind as he decided this was where he was going to die. Tony made it out alive. He is not here with you, his cover was not blown. You can let go…

"Timmy!" Tony Dinozzo's voice yelled out from the doorway of the warehouse.

Timothy could feel the gun being yanked from his mouth and his eyes snapped open as he saw Tony standing there, badge in one hand, gun in the other pointed towards him and his captor. The sound of a gun going off rang out sharply in Timothy's ears and a tear slid down his cheek, unnoticed…

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