NCIS: Jethro's Secret

"Rhapsody Of Pain."

Jethro’s coffee anticipation turned into a coffee obsession. He was moving restlessly, restraining himself from repeatedly slapping McGee on the back of his head, on every word that comes out of his mouth. Gibbs was irritated that morning. A quiet, whispering talk between Kate and McGee sounded like a march of thousands of soldiers; throbbing in Jethro’s ears.

“It’s been 3 hours. Where the hell is DiNozzo?” He asked, giving an indirect suggestion to McGee to dial Tony’s number.

It rang 5 times.

“Boss, he’s not answering,” McGee blurted out, looking at Gibbs, waiting for his reaction.

“He went on a date last night, which, as we already know, didn’t go well, Kate added. “Maybe… Maybe the girl is chasing him around the block, thinking: ‘Where do I keep finding those charming morons?’”

Gibbs smiled.

DiNozzo woke up in a damp place, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He could still feel a warm liquid dripping down his face. Blood. He lifted his head and looked up at a neon light; the only bright spot in a drafty basement, wreathed in silence.

Only the small insects were repeatedly bumping into the light, making a dreary sound. DiNozzo felt trapped, imprisoned. His hands were up in the air, cuffed to a rung of the cold, steel ladder. He was twitching, trying to break away, but the handcuffs were too tight; irritating and scrubbing his skin.

He felt a severe pain in his knees; a pain from standing in the same position for a while, unable to move freely. DiNozzo was numb with cold in the basement, with his hands cuffed; slightly leaning on the cold ladder. His white shirt turned into a dirty, red stained rug.

Suddenly, a flame of a Zippo lighter lit up a corner of the basement; lighting up the face of a man that was on the prowl. He got up and slowly started walking towards DiNozzo, using the lighter to brighten his footsteps. Blinded by the neon light, Tony couldn’t clearly see the man's face until he had stopped 2 feet away from him. He didn’t look familiar. He snapped the lighter and smiled at DiNozzo.

“Special agent DiNozzo,” the man said in a low voice.

Despite of a throbbing pain, Tony smiled back, trying to keep an ironic look on his face.

“I read and heard only positive critiques on you and your ‘Save the day’ philosophy. Smart kid”, he continued. "How’s Jethro? I haven’t seen his face around for a long long time. I miss that bastard son.”

DiNozzo kept his mouth shut, listening to the man’s monologue.

“Do you know what gives me the most pleasure? Do you, DiNozzo?” he asked grabbing Tony by the neck; pressing his hand as tight as he could.

“What?” Tony muttered in pain.

The man pointed a gun at DiNozzo’s head saying:

“Seeing Gibbs’s disciples suffer!”

Tony’s heart was thumping in his chest. His heartbeats were becoming faster, sounding like very loud drum beats. DiNozzo was scared. But he wouldn’t admit that. His dry mouth and a sore throat made swallowing harder. With every exhaled breath, he felt more nauseous.

The man was restraining himself from pulling a trigger. A horrible silence colored with cold breaths and pounding hearts was disturbed by a sudden thump. Tony’s lower lip and a nose were bleeding. The blood was dripping on his shirt, covering the old stains. Tony was twitching on every kick, making the handcuffs leave deeper and more visible wounds on his wrists.

DiNozzo winced. A few of the revengefully boosted punches in his stomach left him breathless. The man swung a baseball bat and hit DiNozzo in his ribs. He spewed blood.

A heavy hit with the gun on DiNozzo’s head made him black out for a few seconds.

“You have no idea how much I like to see you hurt, DiNozzo. You have no idea how much, Gibbs.” The man said wiping the blood off his knuckles.