Violence Warning: Hold onto your hats! But keep in mind, this is not a major character death story. :)

Not beta'd. Mistakes are mine.

Hit
Chapter 5

They were going to be too late, Gibbs just knew it. He pressed the accelerator to the floor, not daring to take his eyes off the road, not looking at the speedometer as the needle rose well past 70…80…90 miles per hour. In the seat beside him, Tim tried to inconspicuously hold onto the door handle, but even out of the corner of his eye, the senior agent could see the white knuckled grip.

"What are in the files Tony left for me, McGee?" Gibbs asked in a clipped tone. Now was not the time for bullshit.

"Phone records," Tim replied. "And a sound file with a recording of Jenny and Tony having a conversation. She sent him undercover, Boss. Under the guise that she has a lead on the murders and wants to close the case as quickly as possible."

"I'll just bet she does," Gibbs grumbled.

The cars tires squealed as Gibbs expertly maneuvered the car off the Beltway and onto the 4 lane highway which would lead to the apartment complex where Tony lived before moving to DC. He'd visited the apartment only one time, several years earlier. It was there he'd offered the younger man a position on his team.

He barely got the car thrown into Park before ripping the keys from the ignition and tearing off for Tony's apartment. He raced up the steps, noting how much the building had deteriorated since Tony moved out. In fact, if Gibbs had a guess to make, he'd wager that the building was mostly, if not completely empty now.

Tim was hot on his heels and nearly slammed into the back of him as he stopped suddenly at one of the doors. Gibbs pulled his gun and raised one finger to his lips and looked at Tim. Tim pulled out his own service weapon and took the safety off of it. He held up a finger to his own lips, confirming that he'd received the message loud and clear. This would be a quiet entry, not a loud or brash one.

The idea for a quiet entry went out the window, though, immediately following the sound of the gunshot coming from inside the apartment.

xxx

Tony nearly laughed out loud at Jenny when she told him where she wanted him to go. It was too easy. He was obviously the bait for some form of insidious activity. He sat in his apartment and listened carefully to the phone conversation Jenny had with Trent Kort immediately following his departure from her office. He was glad that the bug he'd placed was working properly. Thankfully, Jenny overplayed her hand and actually turned her back on him, allowing him the opportunity to surreptitiously hide the monitoring device.

He knew that Trent was coming to Baltimore. Knew that more specifically, Trent was coming after him. Though it sounded a bit more like this was all Jenny's big scheme and Trent was the muscle behind it. He wondered how she'd managed to get the CIA man wrapped so tightly around her finger.

He knew Gibbs would likely be back in the States by now, and knew that with all these agents turning up dead, the likelihood of him living through whatever was going to happen was pretty slim. He wanted to make sure he did not die in vain though. He wanted to make sure the path to Jenny and Kort was as clear as possible so Gibbs could bring them—and any unknown players—down. This madness had to stop.

Tony checked his weapons again; he had his duty weapon, his backup revolver in the ankle holster, pocket knife, belt knife, belt…he could inflict a great deal of damage if the situation called for it. After securing all of his weapons back into their hiding spots, he glanced out the window and his eyes widened. Trent must have already been on his way here, because he was getting out of the car, carrying some kind of bag with him. It looked like a duffle bag and Tony wasn't sure at all that he wanted to hang around to find out what sort of items he bore in the bag. He pulled out his phone, knowing he needed to let Gibbs know what was going on and knowing that he was out of time.

His heart leapt in joy and relief when Jethro answered the phone, but Tony didn't take time for pleasantries or declarations of love. He was out of time and needed to convey the information. He launched into a coded message that he really hoped more than anything Gibbs would be able to parse out. He talked about being made, mentioned 9-1-1 a few times, tried to throw Jenny and Trent's names in to put Gibbs on the right trail. But he knew he had to let it go when he heard the lock on the door rattling.

"—oh shit he's here I gotta go!" Tony quickly disconnected the phone. He knew this apartment like the back of his hand. He wondered at the outset why Jenny wanted him to come back here, but once he realized that the dilapidated building was probably completely empty, a slight twinge of fear erupted in his gut. Not only did he have no one watching his six (except the people who wanted him dead) but in this building, even if he was able to scream for help he'd not be heard.

The door rattled before finally the lock snapped under the force of the kick from the door. When Kort was unable to open the door (Tony locked all of the available locks), he merely kicked the whole thing in. Tony kept himself hidden, trying to give himself as much of an advantage as he was able to. The layout of the apartment included an open floor plan between the kitchen and living areas, with only a small wall separating them. Tony positioned himself behind the wall in such a way that he could see into the living room. But he couldn't see Kort. He knew the slimy bastard was here somewhere, but without making his own presence known, it was impossible to check.

Tony glanced back over his shoulder and movement in the corner of his eye had him ducking just as Kort moved in with a garrot, hoping to strangle him from behind. Tony ducked out of the way, a sweeping kick bringing Kort to the floor with a loud, solid thump. Tony pounced immediately, growling and pressing his gun against the side of Kort's jaw. "What are ya doin' here, Trent?" he asked in a jovial tone, forcing a smile to his face. "You scared the shit outta me!" He knew he needed to play dumb. He wasn't supposed to know that Kort was here to kill him. He wasn't supposed to know anything about anything at this point. With knowledge comes power, though, and Tony was determined not to tip his hand too soon, not to let Trent know just how much Tony had read himself into the situation.

Trent smiled. "You're a good actor, Agent DiNozzo. It is too bad for you. No one will be around to see your final performance."

Tony smacked Trent hard in the face with his gun and moved back when the other man didn't immediately move. "Doubtful," Tony mumbled. "I don't think today's my last performance." Maintaining his cover, he continued, "and correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to be one of the good guys?"

"The days of good and bad have long since passed," Kort muttered as his eyes fluttered open. He rolled to his stomach and spit out a tooth, knocked out by Tony's strike with the gun. "You see…the lines have become fuzzy. It is sometimes difficult to tell who is on the side of good."

"Isn't that the truth?" Tony sneered.

Kort raised himself to his feet and wiped a hand over the back of his mouth. "You sonofabitch," he grumped, "You knocked my damn tooth out!"

"Why were you sneaking up behind me? Why were you going to garrote me?" Tony snapped, his gun still in hand, still itching to fire a kill shot. He was not in the mood to die today.

"I told you the lines have become fuzzy. I thought it would be a quick and mostly painless way for things to close for you."

"You thought wrong," Tony said, not taking his eyes off of Trent. "Keep your hands where I can see them." Tony was internally begging for Gibbs to arrive. He needed someone to watch his six. No one knew where he was though; no one knew he was missing. God he'd fucked up so bad. He should have stayed in Cuba with Gibbs until his partner was able to fly. So stupid. So stupid.

He got so caught up in his line of thinking that he all but missed Kort approaching him. The other man swung a hard right hook that Tony didn't quite get out of the way of. It was enough to knock him off balance and this time, Trent Kort was on top. Tony was at a serious disadvantage. He needed help. He had no leverage in the position he was lying in. He needed to figure out how to get Kort off of him. He bucked his hips furiously, struggling against the hands holding him down.

"You're a fighter," Kort observed as his prey struggled under him. "The others, they didn't fight so hard." He smiled a bloody smile, his mouth still dripping where the tooth had been.

"The others?" Tony asked. That's it, keep talking you bastard. Let me record it all. The recorder he'd carefully sewn into his clothes was still functioning properly at his last check. He hoped it would survive whatever was to come.

"Come, come now. Feigning ignorance does not become you," Trent scolded. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Not that you'll live to tell anyone what you know."

"What makes you – arggghhh – think I haven't already told someone?" Tony groaned when Trent hit him hard. He had to keep this fight going. He had to hold on til Gibbs got there. Gibbs. He hoped Gibbs was safe.

The two continued rolling and wrestling on the floor, trading blows and barbs until Trent managed to get his hand on a loose phone cord. He quickly wrapped it around Tony's neck and tightened it. Tony struggled, flailing like a fish out of water, but Trent remained just out of reach. Tony fought and struggled, but he seemed unable to get free. Just when he thought he'd pass out, just when his limbs didn't feel like they'd move anymore though, Trent released the garrote. "There we go," Trent murmured when Tony dropped listlessly to the ground. He rolled Tony to his back and was pleased to see Tony unable to struggle much. He was sucking in air like a drowning man and Trent was content to let him be for a moment.

Tony's eyes were filled with tears from the exertion of the struggle. He blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision, trying to breathe. It felt like Trent had hurt his throat, but now was not the time to focus on what hurt (everything hurt)—now was the time to bring the dirty rat bastard down so he wouldn't be able to kill anyone else. He wondered how long they'd been fighting, wondered how long it would take Gibbs to arrive. He knew Gibbs would come; Gibbs always had his six. He just needed to stay alive long enough to give him time to get there.

He heard a noise coming from outside the apartment and shifted his gaze slightly towards the door, hoping beyond all hope that he'd see Gibbs there. The momentary distraction was all that it took for Trent to get one lucky punch in…and he punched Tony right in his throat. Pain erupted and spread like flame as Tony staggered back, suddenly unable to breathe through his damaged throat. He gasped and choked, his eyes bulging with fear. He needed air. He was vaguely aware of yelling and more struggling, then he was suddenly falling and Trent was hovering over him. Tony saw his attacker smile down at him. He thought again that he heard Gibbs shouting and closed his eyes when he felt Trent push the barrel of his handgun against his forehead. A sudden coughing fit erupted from Tony, causing his entire body to jerk and it threw Kort off balance. The gun slid off of Tony's forehead, scraping and rubbing and landing with a thud on his shoulder, just as Trent pulled the trigger.

The bullet that was meant for Tony's brain shattered his right shoulder; Tony was sure he'd never felt pain like that. His right arm immediately flopped uselessly to the floor; Tony still coughed and gagged, trying to suck in a breath of air around his damaged throat, but seemed unable to. He was vaguely aware that Trent Kort was no longer on top of him; had been dragged off of Tony and Gibbs was currently beating the shit out of him.

Tim knelt beside Tony, taking off his NCIS Windbreaker and pressing it to Tony's shoulder. Tony winced in pain and let out a low whine. He was proud he made any sound at all! He thought he heard Gibbs tell McGee to trade with him, and then suddenly McGee was replaced by Gibbs. Gibbs was kneeling over him, putting gentle but firm pressure on his shoulder, the other hand was lightly caressing Tony's throat checking for damage. Tony was still gasping and he clawed wildly at Gibbs' arm, trying to get the message across that he was unable to breathe.

"Ok," Gibbs was murmuring. "It's ok, we're ok. We got him. I've got you. He isn't going to hurt you anymore. You have to stay with me now, Tony. Focus on your breathing. Try and calm down so you can take a deep breath."

Gibbs just didn't understand how much Tony was not able to calm down right at the moment, though, and the younger man continued to gasp and wheeze. Gibbs pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number with one hand and shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder. He continued talking to Tony softly, murmuring reassurances, checking him for further injury.

Tony was vaguely aware of Trent Kort yelling and McGee yelling over him to shut the hell up.

There was the whine of an ambulance and more yelling. Gibbs stayed right by Tony's side. Tony thought he heard Gibbs tell the EMTs that he was under protection, but he wasn't sure. Someone slid an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. For an instant his eyes widened as it became even more difficult to breathe, but then the air rushed into his body and he shivered in delight at the sensation of having air. Shivering brought a huge spike in the pain in his shoulder. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think he could feel his arm and he wondered vaguely if he still had his arm. That thought scared him and he gasped…which started the whole process over again.

Through it all, Gibbs remained steadfastly by his side. He tried to ground Tony with touch as much as he was able, putting a hand on his ankle, his knee, touching his hand, doing whatever he could to reassure his partner that he wasn't alone. On his way to Baltimore, Gibbs had made a phone call to Tobias Fornell. He showed up in the middle of all the chaos, for which Gibbs was extremely grateful; now he could stay with Tony and McGee had help to handle that slippery bastard. He wasn't sure who to trust within the NCIS community at the moment, until he saw how deep this mess went. He knew he could trust Fornell though. Fornell was faithful like Tony, even if he played for another team.

The EMTs got Tony loaded into an ambulance—more pain, more lights and loud noises, more yelling—and finally, finally they were on their way to the hospital. Tony was still struggling to take in air and he'd witnessed more than one concerned gaze being passed back and forth between Gibbs and the EMT working on him. He wondered if he was dying, but vaguely recalled Gibbs giving him an order not to die. But was that a long time ago? Did it still apply now?

A lighter than normal headslap jolted him and got Tony's attention. He blinked bleary eyes up at his partner who smiled down at him. "Don't have my permission Tony," he said softly. "You just keep hanging on. Everything is going to be ok."

Tony closed his eyes. He was sure Gibbs had never lied to him before…he wondered why he would start now.

TBC…