Countdown to Looking Glass (NCIS/DC Universe crossover)

[Brky2020]

Aug 26, 2018 19:31:28 GMT lordroel said:

Sad to see Jenny death here also, she was always my favorite NCIS Director.

If she had lived, things would have gone quite differently for the team...in the short term.

It wouldn't have affected global events, though, and Jenny's obsession with La Grenouille might have made things much more dangerous for the team and put them at the mercy of uncaring outside forces.

As far as her death...as you may know, lordroel, people die on that show.

People die in war, too.

[lordroel]

Aug 26, 2018 19:50:50 GMT Brky2020 said:

Aug 26, 2018 19:31:28 GMT lordroel said:

Sad to see Jenny death here also, she was always my favorite NCIS Director.

If she had lived, things would have gone quite differently for the team...in the short term.

It wouldn't have affected global events, though, and Jenny's obsession with La Grenouille might have made things much more dangerous for the team and put them at the mercy of uncaring outside forces.

As far as her death...as you may know, lordroel, people die on that show.

People die in war, too.

Seems that Kate still lives.

Also I do not know if I like the new director.

[Brky2020]

Chapter 7

--all radio and television broadcasting throughout the USSR have been playing somber classical music for the past hour. Moscow is now under some sort of curfew; we here at the ZNN bureau, located in the city close to the Kremlin, are unable to leave the building even for a smoke break. We can tell from looking outside the window that military vehicles have been the only traffic on the road since--

Arlington, Virginia
The Pentagon

Colonel Steven Trevor sat at the table in what was being called The Situation Room, a room 12 floors below ground on the south side of the Pentagon facility. He was part of a group of high-ranking officers from all five branches of the United States military -- directly below the Joint Chiefs of Staff -- who gathered regularly to debriefings on important political and military events.

Things didn't get much more important than the death of the leader of the Soviet Union.

A 15-foot-long high definition monitor hung from the near wall in the rectangle-shaped room, and the officers were all turned towards it. Normally, the monitor showed the Joint Chiefs who would be elsewhere in the building, in an equally secured room (with one member in an unknown location elsewhere, acting in the role of 'Designated Survivor').

Today, all but one of the members were in the room, standing in front of the monitor. U.S. Army General Samuel Lane, first among equals in the group, spoke to the room.

"What I have told you has been verified several times over and we are telling you this now," Lane said. "Zhukov has been deposed. Officially, he will have died of natural causes. The Agency is convinced it was otherwise, although it can't yet tell us how it thinks Zhukov was killed. This information has not yet gotten out to the public although all state-run media has switched to somber classical music -- a sure-fire sign someone high-up has died. Our people inside the Soviet Union tell us people on the street and in the government are already beginning to talk. That's not the concern here, though."

Lane paused for effect.

"Khalinin, the head of the Red Army, has taken over their country. Zhukov could be reasoned with. Khalinin has been planning for war at least as long as we've known about him. You may recall he was involved in the Putsch that led to the death of Putin."

And a lot of other things, Trevor thought.

"War has not been declared by anyone, us or them. But as of this moment, at the request of the President himself, this military will prepare for it. When -- if -- it comes, we will be ready. We will go above and beyond in carrying out our duties, no matter what. Your packets will be waiting for you when you return to your desks. You have your assignments."

With a nod from Lane, those seated at the table stood up. "Dismissed," Lane said, turning on his heel to leave, his aide alongside him and the rest of the Joint Chiefs alongside him. The other officers followed them out, going their separate ways.

Trevor walked 200 yards to an elevator, and took it down two more flights, then walked another 60 yards to a room designated 'FILES'. After his retina was scanned, he entered the room, and went to a back room, locked the door, and placed a call.

"She better be there," he muttered, and four rings later the person he dialed picked up on the other end of the call. "Hindenburg is dead. Heinrich is in control," he said.

Moments later, the woman Trevor called spoke. "My god."

"I'm not waiting for them to declare Exodus. You have my authority to conduct full operations. You trust this man?"

She paused. "With my life."

"Good. We need good people."

"But his people come along."

Trevor paused. "You know I can't guarantee that--"

"They're good people too, Colonel. He won't go along if it's just me."

Trevor looked outside. He needed to get back to his office, soon. "Any screw-ups, Colonel, are on you...and good luck."

She hung up, and Trevor hoped everyone was wrong about the new Soviet leader.

Washington
Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters
The bullpen

"Where the hell is Gibbs?" Fornell asked Gibbs's agents.

"He's upstairs, ah, in a meeting," Kate replied.

"One of you go up there and get him," Fornell said. "I caught a case and I need his help."

"So did we, and ours is pretty damn big," Tony said in a low voice. "And keep that to yourself if you don't mind."

"Mine's bigger."

"Can't be bigger than ours."

"Trust me. It's big."

"Omigod," Kate said, rolling her eyes. "Are you talking jurisdiction, shoe size or something else--"

"Probie," Tony interjected, hitting the elevator button again. "Sit with Fornell till the boss gets back."

The door opened, and Tony went in. "Probie. Wait with Fornell -- hell, you two in here, with me and Kate--"

Never had any of the four agents seen people converge on them as quickly as the suits.

Four of them were at the elevator seemingly instantaneously; they said nothing but placed themselves among the agents, while in the distance one of the suits placed a phone call on her cell.

"I'll wait with Fornell for Gibbs to get back," McGee said, "while you two talk shop--"

"--in the bullpen," Kate said. "Very quietly...right, Tony?"

Tony looked at each suit, whom backed off of him as he slowly moved away from the elevator. He now hated all of them, wishing they and McCallister would go back to whatever spook farm they came from. But he judged this wasn't the time nor place to challenge them.

"Let's get back to work, people," Tony said in a sharp tone.

Minutes later, Gibbs made his way down the stairs, into the bullpen. Fornell stood up from Gibbs's chair, clearly impatient, while Tony, Kate and McGee looked tense.

"Where's Ziva?" Gibbs asked.

"She, uh, took a phone call and headed to the other elevator," McGee said.

"McGee. Find her, get her back here," Gibbs replied, and McGee headed towards the back elevator. Tony got up to join McGee, but Gibbs held his hand up, looked his senior agent in the eye and gestured with a nod at Tony's desk. Tony got the message and sat down, so Gibbs turned his attention to Fornell.

"What'cha doin' here, Tobias? Making yourself at home?"

Fornell looked around the floor, especially at the suits looking back at him. "Diane wants to talk to us both about something--"

"Tobias, I'm in the middle of a damn important case."

"And she's got Rebecca and Stephanie involved somehow. Thing's called 'Devil's Head'."

Gibbs paused for a few moments; 'Devil's Head' was a code word he and Fornell came up with whenever they needed to discuss something very, very important away from their respective agencies.. "You sure?"

"You know her as well as I do. Once that woman gets an idea in her head--"

"Hell," Gibbs muttered, then looked at Tony and Kate. "You two. DiNozzo, you're in charge till I get back; Kate, help Tony. McGee, find Ziva, get her back here and all of you keep working."

Gibbs and Fornell headed towards the elevator. "Where're you going, boss?!?" Tony yelled, but the two senior agents ignored him and stepped into the elevator. The door shut before he and Kate could catch them.

The lab

Ziva ran off the elevator, into the lab, and told Abby she was going to commandeer the ballistics area for a 'cynical' conversation. The door was shut from the inside before either Abby or the suits could follow her in.

"Father. I am alone and in a relatively secure area. I do not know for how long," Ziva said.

"Then I will get to the point," said the man on the other line: the new director of Mossad, Eli David. "There has been a regime change in Moscow."

"General Secretary Zhukov is dead."

"Yes, replaced by Khalinin. There has been a putsch inside the Soviet Union; the new regime is preparing for war."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," Eli said. "We know there has been increased military activity at Soviet bases worldwide, including Syria. Satellites have detected Syrian, Polish and Soviet forces mobilizing along the Lebanese borders and the Golan Heights. The Prime Minister is to meet with the Knesset within the next two hours."

"So if that is happening there--"

"Then other areas around the world are seeing the beginnings of Soviet build-ups. Central America, Africa, southeast Asia, central Europe. Many here, including the Prime Minister and the Ramatkal, believe that Khalinin is willing, even eager, to go where Putin and Zhukov were not."

Ziva glanced towards the door for any sign of interlopers in suits or even in pigtails. "All out."

"Yes."

"Are you recalling me back to Israel?"

"Ziva," Eli said after a pause, "you are not in a safe environment. Your advocate there is dead. You will be of far more benefit to Israel and to Mossad back home--"

"How did you know about Jen--Director Shepard?"

"Ziva," Eli said. "Are you in a secure area?"

At Gibbs's urging, the ballistics area had been wiped free of bugs so the team had somewhere to go to 'talk shop' securely if and when the occasion warranted. So far, the suits had stayed in the main area of the lab and Abby seemed to be playing dumb. But the Mossad liaison officer didn't want to push things; she already had been on the phone longer than she was comfortable with.

"Yes, as much as possible," she answered. "How do you know about this? The...she died only a few hours ago."

"Mossad has monitored NCIS since your arrival," Eli said. "Its overt and particularly its covert divisions. What Mossad has learned tells us Director Shepard's death was no accident--"

"No accident?!? You are suggesting--"

"The man who took her place is dangerous," Eli said. "He is not above killing his own to advance his greater, professional aims--"

"--suggesting he murdered Jenny for her job?"

"If not for Khalinin, the Americans should have already began pursuing him. I would," Eli said. "I will make arrangements for you to return to Israel within the day."

[Brky2020]

Aug 26, 2018 19:54:07 GMT lordroel said:

Aug 26, 2018 19:50:50 GMT Brky2020 said:

If she had lived, things would have gone quite differently for the team...in the short term.

It wouldn't have affected global events, though, and Jenny's obsession with La Grenouille might have made things much more dangerous for the team and put them at the mercy of uncaring outside forces.

As far as her death...as you may know, lordroel, people die on that show.

People die in war, too.

Seems that Kate still lives.

Also I do not know if I like the new director.

Kate lives, and she's a much better agent now than in her first two years. She'll play a big role in future chapters.

Riley is a wiley old bastard, and this is from a show that has seen more than its share of bastards...

[Brky2020]

Chapter 8

Monday, May 21, 2007

--although the very thought is laughable, leaders within the Russian emigre community here in Chicago say they will fight any attempt to separate American citizens of Russian descent into camps--

--and now, instead of telling people about Jesus, Jim Bakker is using his popular PTL Club show to sell thousands of his pre-mixed 'great disaster' food buckets per day--

--increased security and surveillance at Indianapolis Motor Speedway for tomorrow's Bump Day qualifying which had been postponed due to a city-wide blackout. Visitors will see an increased presence of Army personnel along with expanded restrictions on personal items brought into--

--Global Peace Agency officials, in Moscow to meet with General Secretary Zhukov, have not been heard from in the past 20 hours. The eleven people from the Geneva-based organization were in the USSR to urge Soviet leaders to pursue peace--

Quantico, Virginia

The Ford Taurus sedan was doing everything Tobias Fornell asked it to.

He didn't care if it was the tires, the powerful engine the FBI had installed into it and all other vehicles in the Bureau's fleet, or pixie dust. The vehicle, along with his colleagues running interference, helped him evade some unknown men in a chase that began just outside the Navy Yard.

Only after Fornell arrived at the safe place -- the FBI Academy in this town 40 miles south of Washington -- did he notice his heart pounding in his chest. The sedan skidded to a stop in a parking lot near the main entrance, and Fornell shouted a few choice expletives.

"Should've let me drive, Tobias," deadpanned Gibbs, who was calm and relaxed.

"You?!?" said Fornell, who was agitated and frazzled. "My luck? They'd have shot you dead and taken care of me in the wreck -- if you didn't kill me before by giving me a heart attack."

"They wouldn't have gotten me," Gibbs said, nodding towards the Sig Sauer handgun at his waist. "And you had your seatbelt on."

"Now I remember why Diane never rode with you," Fornell said. "Or did she? Would that be why she hit you with the bat?"

"Not her," Gibbs replied, looking down at his nearly-empty coffee cup. "We goin' in, or sittin' here all day? I'd like to find out who those bastards following us were."

"You're guessing McCallister?"

"Not a guess," Gibbs said, pointing to his gut. "We're not going to find out who sittin' in this car."

"In a bit. You have to promise me what we say here doesn't go beyond this car."

"What are you talkin' about, Tobias?"

Fornell reached to the back seat and grabbed a leather briefcase, opened it and took out a folder. He found a flash drive in a pocket within the folder and gave the drive to Gibbs. "Put this on you and do not let it go. Have McGee decrypt it, away from the Navy Yard, preferably in your basement."

Gibbs looked at the thumb-sized drive, then put it in his inside jacket pocket. "What's with the cloak-and-dagger?"

Fornell looked out the front and side windows and in the rearview and both side mirrors for hostiles and unknowns. Satisfied he saw only friendlies -- his fellow, and trusted, FBI agents -- he turned to Gibbs.

"The international situation's worse than you hear on the news," Fornell said. "Far worse. The Soviet military's been covertly putting plans into place for a multi-front attack against the West for months. When the Kremlin screwed the pooch by mangling the Siberian oil fields, the military decided to look elsewhere to get their resources. The West."

"Where and how are you getting this info, Tobias? How do you know it's on the level?"

"My own director knows this, and so does every other agency director, including Shepard and probably McCallister. I found out from a friend high up in the Bureau."

Gibbs took a gulp of his coffee. He had so many questions for Fornell, and his mind told him something was hinky about what he had just been told.

His gut told him his friend was on the level.

"So the Soviets are planning to start World War III. Just like '86."

"'86 was fought over the Arabian oil and the Israeli coup. This time the Soviets and their allies are in Korea, Africa, Central America, Europe. Plus the Middle East. In '86 they only nuked Cairo and Wuhan. Now? Those might be the only places not nuked."

"How bad?" Gibbs wanted to know. "Didn't Zhukov tell Broome and Boehner he wanted to talk détente?"

"Zhukov's not in power anymore. Military staged a putsch, put one of their own in the big chair. Bureau's gonna be gearing up for war real soon."

Fornell turned off the running engine and air conditioner. "I can't tell you anything more, especially military-wise," he said. "You might be able to find out something with your Navy and Marine contacts. Let's go inside. That thing with Diane is for real and your other ex-wives are involved."

The agents got out and headed towards the nearby building. Fortunately for Gibbs, he indeed knew someone in the military.

Navy Yard
The elevator

Kate followed Tony through the doors. Once he hit the button for another floor, she beat him to the button stopping the elevator. Tony smiled to himself. Kate had gotten very good at a lot of things in her three-plus years as an NCIS agent; he was surprised Jenny hadn't offered her the Rota job...or maybe she had. Jenny hid a lot of things from a lot of people.

"La Grenouille," she said. "When were you going to say something?"

"How much of that folder did you read? And I hope you knew what you were doing when you 'borrowed' it from the director's office."

"Enough. My gut told me to grab that thing while I could, and before you ask, I hid it in a place they can't find."

"You haven't left this floor, Kate. They might be up there going through your, our, desks right now!"

"Tell you what: you tell me how you got mixed up in this, and if your girlfriend's part of it. And I'll tell you what Abby set up in case I had a file and needed to get rid of it when I wasn't around."

"Sorry 007, I can't talk about it, other than Jenny had me on that assignment. What I do outside of work? My business."

Kate laughed. "Says the guy who can't help himself from butting into everyone else's business."

"Part of this job, Kate, is going undercover and it's not always like the hotel," Tony shot back. "Undercover work means secrets. Something you're familar with."

"That's not fair, Tony! That's not the same as the hotel, and whatever Jenny has, had, you wrapped up in--"

"Going undercover sometimes means keeping secrets you don't want to keep from your teammates," Tony interjected. "Your secret? We almost blew that case last year because you couldn't fake it enough to make the killer think we were for real--"

Kate slapped Tony, so hard his first thought was the damn suits had to have heard that.

"I don't give a damn if you are Senior Field Agent," she said, right in his face. "Some things in my life stay private. It was hard enough for me to get here as a woman. If these people we investigate know I'm gay? My career is ruined."

Tony paused for a few moments.

"You're absolutely right, Kate," he said, rubbing his jaw. "And I was out of line just now. I'm sorry."

She half-believed him, but decided she would take the high road. "I accept your apology."

"Her name is Jeanne," Tony said.

"Her?"

"You and Ziva are right. I do have a girlfriend. Jeanne. We've been dating for months. She's La Grenouille's daughter, and Jenny had me spying on her as part of the investigation of her father."

Kate, her arms folded, softened a little bit.

"And I've fallen in love with her," Tony said. "That's a secret of my own I hid from everybody, including Jenny. You're the first to know."

Kate wanted to hug and slap Tony, to comfort and yell at him, all at the same time. She had so many questions about this op of his, but realized they had to be tabled on account of Jenny's death.

"We better get back," she said, hitting the button that got the elevator moving. "We need to find McGee, and Ziva."

"They'll know to head back to the bullpen," Tony reminded her. "You're right. We better head back there, too."

Forensics lab

McGee quickly made his way around the NCIS building, looking for any signs of unusual activity that could be traced to the new director, as well as the usual suspects like KGB. He noted suits tailing him from a distance, though no one approached him.

He made his last stop Abby's lab, aware Ziva probably would have gone to the building 'safe place' to talk business. He saw two suits banging on the sliding door into Abby's office area, which led to ballistics and was locked. Abby ran to him as he walked through the lab entrance.

"McGee those people are going to knock down my door," Abby whispered. "They're staring holes through me when they're not looking over my shoulder--"

"Excuse me," McGee said, walking past Abby towards the doorway, where the suits were impatiently standing. "Is there a problem?"

"Mossad Officer David went back there without declaring her intentions," the woman said. "We want to know what those intentions are--"

"And if she is alright," added the man.

"And if she is alright," she repeated while turning momentarily to glare at her partner. "Agent McGee, please open this door that your forensics specialist -- who has worked here for years -- apparently is unable to open on her own."

McGee looked back at Abby, whose eyes were shooting daggers at the woman. "Uh, ma'am, it'll take a few moments," he said, pointing to the recently-installed panel designed to keep out anyone who wasn't supposed to be there.

"Please, as quickly as possible," the woman said.

In the ballistics room, Ziva saw McGee. Realizing he wouldn't be able to stall them very long, she decided to bring her cellphone conversation to a quick end.

"Segev will meet you," Eli David said from the other end. "We will send you the--"

"I am not leaving," Ziva said.

"You have no choice," Eli replied a few moments later. "You are Mossad--"

"--and Jenny was my friend. It is my duty to help find her--"

"YOUR DUTY IS TO ISRAEL!"

"I can do more by staying here, helping Gibbs and my teammates find the murderer, or murderers, and bring them to justice."

Ziva looked out, and saw McGee still working on the panel. She guessed she had run out of time. "Father. I have to go now."

"I will send Segev to you--"

"Do not waste his time." She hung up, and hit a sequence of buttons, wiping any record of the call from the phone. Moments later, the sliding door opened, and the suits, followed by McGee, sprinted in.

The female suit's look of annoyance spoke louder than her words of concern.

--somber classical music on all Soviet television and radio stations led to this announcement, just minutes ago:

'Anatoly Vladimirovich Zhukov, general secretary of the CPSU Central Committee, president of the Presidium of the U.S.S.R. Supreme Soviet, died at 13 hours 25 minutes on May 21 2007. Viktor Alexandrovich Khalinin, General of the Peoples and Peasants Red Army, has been appointed general secretary.'

The message also was carried by Radio Havana, in Spanish and English...--

[Brky2020]

Chapter 9
Monday, May 21, 2007

--in wake of Zhukov's death, security in Geneva is being tightened ahead of this week's summit--

--President Boehner will speak on the general secretary's death within the hour--

--last year's incident with the Siberian oil fields was the greatest ecological disaster in the Soviet Union since its test of a 100-megaton nuclear bomb in 2000--

Washington
Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters
The bullpen

The team members returned to their desks, each wary of the suits whom, by Kate's observation, getting on the nerves of everyone else who worked on the floor.

She took a few moments to profile the men and women in black around her. Except for the incident at the elevator, they seemed content to hang back and let people work. When the other employees went to the head or left the floor to go to lunch, the suits let them alone -- although Kate figured they were being watched anyway.

The only suit who unnerved Kate was the woman watching her from past the staircase, barely trying to conceal herself. Kate wondered why that woman was acting the way she was, and grateful for her teammates, and friends, being there with her.

Kate briefly checked on the others in the bullpen.

Ziva seemed to be the only one not at least a little unnerved by the suits' presence. She too had noticed the woman in the back and, with a nod, let Kate know she had her back. That relaxed Kate, who had gone from being wary of to considering the Mossad officer as a close friend.

It didn't hurt that Ziva could take out half of them by herself.

McGee was a little more relaxed after returning from the lab. He wasn't letting himself being affected by the situation; he focused on doing his job. Although he would always be Tony's 'probie', McGee had become a competent and dependable agent in just a few years. The suits wouldn't easily faze him.

She was most concerned about Tony. The suits -- along with, of course, Jenny's death -- had knocked him off his game. The Senior Field Agent's terse responses to everyone, along with the absence of his usual innuendos and jokes, were conspicuous. Part of that undoubtedly was due to Jenny's death. However, Kate could tell the suits' presence had a troubling effect on him as well.

One positive in all of this was that no one had lost sight of focusing on the case, nor of looking out for one another. Kate and Ziva looked out for Tony and McGee, and they the same for them. And when Gibbs got back, he'd make sure they stayed focused on the case AND look out for them.

Navy Yard

Having ordered Gibbs and his team NOT to disclose Jenny's death to anyone, McCallister briefly went to his new office. After speaking with Gibbs, he retreated to the safety of his armored SUV.

He knew full well they couldn't keep something as significant as his predecessor's death a secret forever. Already, his people at the Navy Yard had told him scuttlebutt was running wild. Only the suits (who were part of McCallister's 'people'), and the fear of God they had put on the rank-and-file, kept the gossip in check. An announcement would have to be made at the end of the day.

McCallister wasn't yet ready to formally announce himself as the new director. He had to contact the regional directors in Okinawa and Panama City and the head of Cyber Crimes; he already had spent too much time explaining the situation to the regional heads in Subic Bay and Naples.

"We're wasting too much goddamned time," McCallister muttered to himself. His phone rang just as he was about to call Okinawa; he kept the string of profanities in his head as he answered. "McCallister."

The agent on the other line informed him the tail on Gibbs and Fornell had gotten 'out of hand'.

This time, McCallister let the curse words fly loudly and often.

Virginia

Fornell and Gibbs talked the Diane part of 'devil's head' inside, then called her. Diane, working as an agent for the IRS, said the ex-wives wanted to know from Gibbs if they could stay with him, should things get FUBAR. Gibbs tried to tell Diane he was staying put in D.C., but she was convinced he had an escape bunker up in Pennsylvania.

Gibbs finally hung up on her.

"You know she's headed straight to your house," Fornell deadpanned. "She'll probably bring the others with her, wait for you downstairs. I hope that boat of yours isn't finished; tell them 'no' again, they might tear it apart in front of you and toss the lumber all over your yard."

"That's one way to get the boat out of the basement, Tobias," Gibbs quipped. "Better head back. This time, I'll drive."

Once they left the academy, they resumed their discussion of McCallister. "I'll look into those guys, try to find out what in hell they intended to do," Fornell said.

"Appreciate it. Got a lot on my plate right now," Gibbs replied.

"How far along have you gotten?" Fornell asked.

"Not far enough."

"Jethro, what if you or your people find out McCallister was involved in Jenny's death?"

"Then we'll bring him in, Tobias."

"You got enough to take him on?"

Gibbs, a man of few words, had none to give his friend.

San Diego, California

Naval Base San Diego

The SUV pulled up to the entrance of the building that the San Diego field office was located in; when it stopped, two agents and Mike Franks got out.

The first thing Franks did was pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's against regulations to smoke inside," said one of the young agents, Ashley.

"Then I'll smoke out here," he told her.

As a couple of guards took his bags inside, Franks puffed away, accompanied by Agent Ashley. He watched a drone fly overhead while armed Marines made their way down the street.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, sir," Ashley said.

"You can call me Mike, and yeah, I do have one," he said. "Why was I so damn important that the federales stopped along the highway and put us on a copter that didn't stop 'till it hit San Diego?"

"The DoD mandated that all retired federal agents in Mexico be recalled back to the United States for their own protection," she said. "You would've been a target for the cartels, or Soviet-aligned agents."

"Like I wasn't already. I was doing just fine on my own. You brought me all the way up here but nobody's told me where I'm gonna live."

"Special Agent in Charge Carter will go over that with you," Ashley said, as Pete -- the other agent who met Franks in Mexico and accompanied him here -- burst through the front entrance.

Their team had just caught a case and they both had to get to the scene ASAP. As both left, Franks watched them go, and saw a sedan tear out of the parking lot a couple of minutes later.

Franks finished his cigarette, then went inside looking for the head. Finishing his business there, he looked around until he spotted his luggage by a desk, and the baby-faced probationary agent sitting there.

[Brky2020]

Chapter 10

Monday, May 21, 2007

--we're getting word of increased Soviet and East German military activity near the U.N. checkpoints in and out of West Berlin--

--contradictory reports regarding a possible KGB raid on the BBC's bureau office in Moscow--

--all cars racing this week here in Charlotte leading into Saturday's Busch Series CARQUEST Auto Parts 300 and Sunday's Nextel Cup Coca-Cola 600 races will have Old Glory on their hoods. There also will be a special anti-Communist decal on the #3 car of none other than the legendary Dale Earnhardt himself--

Washington

Fornell and Gibbs headed back to the Navy Yard, taking note of the unmarked FBI cars following them, and the cars that weren't.

"McCallister's men got made so he called 'em off," Gibbs said, as Fornell's car got in the line going into the Navy Yard complex. "If the Bureau thinks he's Jenny's killer, why hasn't it brought him in by now?"

"He's been on our radar for awhile now."

"'Awhile'?!? How long is 'awhile', Tobias?"

"At least a few months, going back before his job in your agency's special ops program," Fornell said. "The guy's slippery, Jethro. You've never met him before?"

"Yeah, briefly, after I joined NCIS. The man was real proud of himself for being right about the Russians, let everyone know about it. Never thought he was more than an ass, though."

The line began moving suddenly, and Fornell and Gibbs could see the shack, guards and dogs.

"What do you think about the man now?" Fornell asked.

"That he found a hell of a way to get a promotion."

"Jethro...be real careful. You and your people. This guy's making Ari look like Santa Claus."

After the guards did a cursory search of the car, Gibbs got out of the car in the parking lot. He entered the NCIS building, walking onto and off the elevator with a pair of suits who didn't say a word to him. He quickly looked around the floor, counting the number of suits on the floor and looking for anything else out of place.

Gibbs headed to his desk, which got his team's attention. He went to McGee and had him pull up Jenny's mugshot and put it up on both monitors -- which got everyone else's attention.

"You have anything to give me?" Gibbs barked.

"Uh, boss--"

"No, Gibbs."

"Not yet, Gibbs."

"Abby's still working--"

"OH GOD!"

Everyone turned towards the woman from accounting standing in the aisle of the row of desks alongside the bullpen. A crowd of NCIS personnel had gathered around her, all looking at Jenny's photo.

And, each of the suits were moving in towards the bullpen.

"Is it true? That Director Shepard died?" asked another man. Everyone around him began asking questions, and within moments those questions descended into a frantic cacophony. The team was taken aback by their intensity.

Gibbs calmly got onto his desk and twice made an ear-shattering whistle. The second one -- and his well-known and much-feared glare -- got the crowd's attention.

"We are pursuing a murder investigation and the subject is Director Shepard," Gibbs shouted, so that everyone on the floor would have no doubt what he was saying. "My team's investigation is ongoing and we are to be left alone to conduct it. This includes myself. Any and all updates will come through the proper channels. For now, this is all that will be said on the subject."

Gibbs stepped down from his chair and turned towards the monitor, then quickly turned back to the crowd. With another glare, the crowd scattered back to their work areas.

As Gibbs turned back to his team, he noticed the suits moving back to their positions, and that one of them was on her phone. "You have anything for me?" he said.

Kate was the first to speak up. "Abby's still tracking the brass found at the scene."

McGee was next. "I'm waiting on all of the footage from the park and the street."

Ziva spoke up. "Ducky and Palmer are still conducting the autopsy."

Gibbs turned to Tony, who looked around at the various suits, all staring at them. Then Tony felt one of his boss's headslaps.

"DiNozzo!"

"Car's in the garage," Tony said, then resumed looking at the suits.

"DiNozzo, you got something else for me?"

Tony turned back to Gibbs. "Look around. Dozens of them downstairs when McCallister debriefed us, dozens up here now. One's been staring a hole through Kate since you left. Abby's got two, Ducky's got two more. They haven't gone to the head with us -- yet -- but it's almost like we're prisoners in our own building."

Gibbs looked around, noting that almost every suit was looking their way. The one who wasn't -- the woman with the phone -- had moved closer, and seemed to be staring at Kate. When he caught the woman's eye, she began backing away, taking out her phone to make another call.

"Watch her," Gibbs said to his team after glancing at Kate. As he headed towards the woman, Tony yelled for him.

An exasperated Gibbs turned around. "Boss. The director wants to talk to you."

The former Marine gave the woman one last glare -- she returned it with a smirk -- before turning back towards the bullpen, where he picked up his phone.

"Gibbs."

"Your damn file suggested you were a pain in the ass, Gibbs," said McCallister on the other line. "It confirms what I suspected that time we met when this agency was still NIS."

"I can be," Gibbs replied, "especially when my people and I are being watched."

"Security, Gibbs. They're for your protection."

"Protection, Director? Since when do federal agents need to be protected while doing their jobs?"

Kate moved a little closer to Gibbs as the woman began to approach them, again.

"You'll need them. There are things in play you have no idea about."

"Have an idea about one of your people and a potential threat to my team, and one of my agents in particular," Gibbs said as he glared at the woman. "I don't take well to threats from anyone."

"Or so I hear. I've read up on you, Gibbs. Last year, when Haswari abducted Officer David and assaulted Agent Todd and nearly killed Agent DiNozzo. You left him a present."

"Attempted assault...and yeah, Director, I left him a 'present'. I'm sure he remembers it every time it rains, or he goes jogging."

"Are you about to do something that's gonna cost me a ton of paperwork and my agency's best agent, Gibbs?"

"Don't like predators, Director," Gibbs said, causing the woman to freeze in her tracks. "Ask Ari how I handle predators. Or, if they hadn't executed him, Kyle Boone."

Tony jumped right in front of her, pistol in hand, and Ziva, McGee and Kate had their own weapons drawn. The other suits, looking on, had their hands on their weapons, while the regular workers were frozen in their chairs or hiding under their desks.

"One of them defected to the Soviets and the other's dead," McCallister said. "I really don't want to see a shootout downstairs, Gibbs."

"Downstairs?" Gibbs said, before listening to McCallister talk to someone else. Gibbs didn't understand the mumble, but he quickly saw for himself what the new director must have said.

Two suits sprinted towards the woman, grabbing her arms and restraining her. Moments later, Gibbs looked up and saw McCallister himself at the top of the stairs, looking down at them all before he announced himself.

[Brky2020]

Chapter 11

Monday, May 21, 2007

--Border Patrol agents arrested the leader of the Mexican Reynosa Cartel this morning. Paloma Reynosa was captured after a shootout in Yuma, Arizona involving gang members associated with the Reynosa cartel. She is being charged not only with setting up and supplying a cocaine pipeline into the United States, but collusion with Nicaraguan--

--lines lasting for hours at U.S. Customs facilities along the entire Mexican border, from California to Texas. Every vehicle is subject to an extensive physical and electronic search, every person subject to the same--

--U.S. Air Force personnel are now a common sight at San Diego International Airport. The Air Force put some of its C-12 and C-130 transport and F-15 fighter jets at the airport last month. The F-15s fly regularly over downtown and up and down the coast--

--flags at World Bloc embassies and consulates throughout the world are flying at half-mast after the announcement of Zhukov's death--

San Diego
NCIS field office

Franks sat in a folding chair across from the earnest, bright-eyed, very young man whose badge identified him as NCIS probationary agent Mitchell Conley.

"Shouldn't you be chasing cheerleaders at the prom?" Franks asked. "You don't look anything close to 23."

"I have a criminal justice degree from UCLA and was fortunate enough to do extremely well at FLET-C," said the mild-mannered and eager high school-aged teenager. "I was hired three months ago and assigned to San Diego. It's a very challenging and interesting job."

Franks kept his opinion on that to himself; he'd ask Conley's boss why NCIS was hiring kids.

"So why aren't you out with your team, son?" he asked. "They're out on a case."

"Agent Carter knew you would be here, and she doesn't want the office empty during daytime," Conley said. "In case someone comes by with a tip. She doesn't give out our phone numbers."

The two talked shop, Franks about his career at the agency when it was known as the Naval Investigative Service, and Conley about his teammates. They were a young group, assigned to one of the Navy's most important bases; Hayley Carter was the oldest at 31, the other three agents in their twenties.

"San Diego's damn important to the Navy, son," Franks said, deciding to speak his reservations. "Russians, Islamists, cartels, and other bastards looking to attack. And the bastards supposedly on our side. Nothing against you kids, but San Diego needs a veteran team."

Nothing the probationary agent said -- including his mentions of his team's high closure rate -- reassured Franks.

Neither did Agent Carter, who returned to the office earlier than expected. The athletic, confident woman said very little about her team's case, and declined Franks's offer to help them.

Instead, she wanted to talk about where he would stay. After a nearly 40-minute-long conversation, Franks judged that she wanted to get rid of him. After learning their case wasn't serious enough for him to pull rank, he decided to listen to his gut: it was time to get out of there.

"Now there are safe houses set up at a number of places here in southern California," Carter said. She opened the top folder of a stack of four on her desk, switching into the persona of a realtor, which unnerved Franks a little. "These are nice places, too. You won't live like an NBA player, but you'll be comfortable. I'm sure someone with as many years of experience as you have can appreciate that."

Franks leaned back and raised his eyebrows, wishing he had a cigarette and a shot of bourbon right then. "How old do you think I am, kid? I retired to a beach and a cantina, not to some old folks home."

Carter knew she had committed some kind of faux pas right then. Instead of apologizing, she opened another folder. "We have a place right in Santa Ana, in a good neighborhood. You'd be on the same street as a retired FBI agent who's a pastor at a--"

"No." Franks shook his head emphatically.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I'm not gonna go live there."

She spread out the folders on her desk. "Then look through these folders and take as long as you like. I'm sure you'll find something you like--"

"I already know where I want to go," he replied, "besides back to Baja."

"Really?"

"How soon can you get me on a C-130?"

Washington
Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters
Director McCallister's office

Gibbs politely declined McCallister's offer of a drink from the wet bar, then watched as the new director picked up, then put away, a bottle of gin.

"I ought to have this thing ripped out and a java bar put in," McCallister said, eyeing Gibbs's cup of coffee. "That caffeine goes a long way sometimes in keeping yourself alert and awake. And, as you yourself may be aware, sleep's overrated."

"So I've heard, Director," Gibbs replied. He looked around the room again; other than the alcohol on the bar, every trace of Jenny Shepard had been wiped clean. Even her secretary, Cynthia Sumner, was gone, replaced by a young man who Gibbs couldn't quite get a read on.

And, there were the armed guards at the doors to the reception area and to McCallister's office. There was no sign of the two agents who normally stood outside reception.

McCallister gestured for Gibbs to sit at the conference table.

"I'm not happy with how the word got out Gibbs," McCallister said. "I'm not blaming you. The leak came from one of the special agents downstairs."

"That what you call them? 'Special agents'?"

"The people in the suits? Yeah, and they're all NCIS. Some are from special ops, some from other field offices around the world."

"They're making my people nervous, Director," Gibbs replied.

"Understand, Gibbs, they're there for security," McCallister said. "When my top field team is investigating the death of the Director of NCIS, I want them protected as best as possible. I trust people, Gibbs, not drones and electronics."

And my ex-wives only wanted the furniture, thought Gibbs. "One of them made a move toward one of my people just now. That I won't stand for."

McCallister pondered for a few moments. "Is that agent tall, lean, short blond hair, and female?"

"Yeah."

"Clair," the new director said in exasperation. "She was my SSA when I headed up San Diego, joined me when Morrow set up special ops and became Special Agent in Charge when Shepard promoted me. Damn good agent. Daughter of a cop, had a great mind for this line of work..."

"Had???"

"We caught a case. Remember the Bremerton attacks? We were in the middle of that insanity. One of the terrorists got into a pickup and drove it towards a family; she pushed them out the way, tried to twist away at the last second but got caught, and fell and slammed her head to the pavement. She was in the hospital for weeks but she was never the same."

"She must've gotten better. She's down there."

"Yeah. She's gained back most of her skills, but that brain injury did something to her. She's cleared to work, though I wouldn't put her in the field."

Gibbs took a sip of coffee. "But you put her downstairs, Director. Why?"

McCallister looked hard at Gibbs. "Because I owe her my life, Gibbs. She's saved my ass a couple of times. Her father's dead, she doesn't really have any family other than the team we were on. There aren't a lot of us left."

The director paused, and his countenance softened a little.

"In fact, that brings me to my next point. I wanted to update you on some people you've worked with. Agent G Callen. You two worked together undercover in the Soviet Union, with Shepard."

Gibbs bristled just a tad at hearing reference Jenny and not as director.

"He worked for me in special ops. We worked around the globe mainly undercover. We had a case in Iraq involving Spetsnaz imbedded with a particularly nasty group of insurgents. Our base was bombed; I lost good people there, Gibbs. Granger. Lange. Hanna. Callen survived only because he wasn't there, but they hunted him down and killed him. I'm sorry, Gibbs. I couldn't tell you until now because being read in required approval from Director Shepard."

Callen. Betts, Blackadder, Pacci, Balboa, Jackson, Yates, Lee, Blye, and now Callen. Damn it, it never ends. "That it, Director?" Gibbs asked.

"I have better news regarding a couple of people you've worked with," McCallister continued. "Agent Stan Burley is temporarily serving as Agent Afloat on the USS Gretsch in the Persian Gulf until our man there recovers from some type of flu-like sickness he picked up a few weeks ago. Agent Paula Cassidy heads the NCIS field office in Panama City."

"Heard from Stan a couple of months ago, and DiNozzo talked to Cassidy last month. You have any word on Mike Franks?"

"Mike Franks...your old boss? Probably either back in the States or on his way, due to that DoD directive. He would be sent to--"

"San Diego."

"Yeah, San Diego. I'm sure Agent Carter can tell you where he is. Now, while I'm enjoying our talk, I'm busy as hell and I know you are, too. Just one more thing."

McCallister walked over to a file cabinet behind his desk, pulled out a drawer and took it back to the conference table, dumping it in front of Gibbs. "I'm missing a folder, Gibbs. Rene Benoit. La Grenouille."

This surprised Gibbs. "Don't know anything about that."

"Maybe not, but DiNozzo and Todd do, and I know they were up here snooping around," McCallister said. "I have every right to bust their asses over this, but I won't. Because I trust you, Gibbs. With that folder, and with this case."

McCallister got up, walked over to his office door and opened it. "Whatever you need to find Shepard's killer, you'll have it. But I do want that folder back...first thing tomorrow. Take it home, read it. But bring it back."

Gibbs got the message, taking his coffee with him to the door. He stopped and turned around. "Your woman, Clair. She stays the hell away from all of my people." Then Gibbs headed back towards the bullpen, and McCallister was both respectful and leery of the man.

The bullpen

Gibbs looked around for Clair; not seeing her anywhere, he walked over to McGee and leaned over his shoulder.

"Take this," Gibbs said in his ear while handing him Fornell's flash drive. "Do not look at it here or in the lab. When you get home, go through it with a fine-tooth comb, find whatever's on the damn thing and bring it to me at the house."

"What's on this drive--"

"And whatever you do, do not get caught," Gibbs said before pulling away. "Ziva, get with Abby and start on that car. DiNozzo, Kate -- with me."

After confirming that Kate had the folder (and telling Kate to give it to him and asking what else they found), Gibbs made his rounds, met with Ducky in the morgue, and lingered over the body of his former comrade, lover and boss. He then met with Abby in the garage and in the lab.

When Gibbs got back, he found Clair back on the floor, not moving an inch for the rest of the afternoon, and Kate's dog standing watch in front of her desk. That made him smile, and gave him the lightest moment of what had so far been a very dreary day.

[Brky2020]

Chapter 12

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

--As dawn nears here in Moscow, the streets are still void of civilian traffic. Curfew remains in effect throughout the city with only military vehicles on the road. Western media bureaus, including ours of the BBC, continue to be held under a sort of house arrest by agents of the KGB -- or so we have been told.

For the time being, we are able to freely file reports from within our location--



--the U.S., the U.K., France and Japan were the first of a host of Western nations condemning the Soviets' detainment of their journalists.--



--"East of the Rockies, you're on the air, hi."

"I can't tell you my name and location but trust me when I say that what I'm about to tell you and your listeners is the most important thing you've ever heard in your life."

"The most important thing any of us have heard in our lives."

"Yes sir."

"Then don't keep us in suspense, sir. The floor is yours."

"I hear you every night talking to these crazy people. Sasquatch and UFOs and aliens and time travelers. But I'm telling you, the government really is hiding something that people need to know about. It's hidden things from the public all along, but what I'm about to tell you is the big one."

"What is the nature of this information, caller?"

"It's a method of escape should the nukes start flying. Not everybody'll get away but enough of us--"

"...Hello? Caller, hello?...are you there, caller?..."--

Washington, D.C.
Gibbs's basement
12:07 a.m.

A long day had turned into the start of a long night for Gibbs, who had so far gone throughout his house searching for bugs.

He didn't trust McCallister nor his people, and Gibbs's gut was screaming at him that McCallister was somehow involved with Jenny's death. How involved he was Gibbs couldn't answer, not this early in the investigation, but he was certain of a connection.

Gibbs's gut also was telling him to look for bugs in his house; he always left it unlocked, and his foes had made their way inside before. So far, he hadn't found anything upstairs, nor in his garage and shed. He then went through his basement, going so far as to dismantle his boat.

Satisfied that he had swept the house, Gibbs poured himself a glass jar full of bourbon, and sat down at his bench to go through the La Grenouille file.

McCallister said he trusted Gibbs and lent him the file as proof. In turn, Gibbs was trying to figure out the man's angle. The only thing Gibbs was certain of was that the new director was trying to earn his trust -- but why? What was McCallister's angle, and why did he look the other way regarding Kate and Tony?

By all rights, he could bust both of them for snooping around and taking that file. Any other director, even Jenny, would've taken their badges at the very least. Instead of trying to figure out how to get them out of their predicament, Gibbs was learning about an op that Tony was an integral part of.

The subject of the op was Rene Benoit, also known as La Grenouille, a French term that translated to The Frog in English. Benoit was an international arms dealer, and Jenny had Tony dating the man's daughter Jeanne to gain intel.

NCIS's interest in pursuing the man wasn't made clear in the file, but Jenny had marked the man as a high-level potential threat to national security. Gibbs suspected a personal vendetta on Jenny's part, but her true motivations had died with her. He knew for certain that Tony's part in the op had come to an abrupt end.

Gibbs got up from his stool to stretch his legs. Standing at his bench, sipping his bourbon, he heard someone upstairs heading towards the basement. He reached for his handgun and took off the safety.

He was relieved to see Army Lieutenant Colonel Hollis Mann walking down the stairs, and she in turn was glad to see him. Hollis and Gibbs had began seeing one another several months ago. She decided to break off their relationship when she discovered that he hadn't fully moved on from the death of his first wife and their daughter.

After learning about the string of deaths in his life, including that of his father, Hollis decided to give Gibbs another chance. Their first 'date' afterwards was in this basement, he telling her a little about Shannon and Kelly.

She wished to this second visit was for pleasure.

"Is this how you get that boat in your basement -- or out?" she asked, nodding towards the big pile of wood on the floor.

Gibbs smiled, then walked over to empty a nail jar and pour some bourbon for her. "Bugs."

"Termite 'bugs'?"

"Other kind. And the house is clean," he replied. "Didn't know tonight was date night."

"None for me, thanks. You're certain your house is clean?" she asked in a more serious tone, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Went through it myself."

Hollis eyed the folder on his workbench. "That part of your cleaning?"

"Working on a pretty big case," Gibbs said. "Director Shepard's death."

"I heard about it. I'm sorry, Jethro. She was damn good at her job. It's not easy, being a woman, in the military world."

"Can't speak from experience. I believe those who do."

"I know you do," Hollis replied, pulling up a stool. "I need to borrow you for a little while...there's something you need to see."

Gibbs took a sip of his bourbon. "The death of the director of NCIS isn't something I can walk away from, even here."

"This may have something to do with McCallister," Hollis said. Gibbs took a hard look at her. "Scuttlebutt makes its way around, Jethro. Even to the Army."

"What kind of 'scuttlebutt'?"

"The kind that might explain why he's in that office right now instead of Jenny Shepard."

"Talk."

"Not here," she said. "In my car. It's clean."

"Cleaner than my basement?"

"My people are out there, too, Jethro, making sure it stays that way. Can't say the same about those people four houses down...suits, ties. Dark glasses."

Gibbs stood up. Damn that sonofabitch is good. "If that's true, it'll have to wait. Not gonna leave now."

"I have people outside watching for agents of Communist aggression in this neighborhood who have no problem watching the home of a federal agent while he leaves for a period of time," Hollis said. "Whether he's pursuing a lead or looking for an open Chinese place...and take that folder. Reading material."

Gibbs practically ran up the stairs. When he got out to the sidewalk, he scanned the area.

He saw three pairs of Army CID agents, plainclothed, in unmarked vehicles up and down the street. And in another unmarked car, two bastards in suits.

"You're not alone, Jethro," Hollis whispered. "We need to get away from here."

As he got in the passenger seat, Gibbs's gut told him the case was about to take a wild left turn.

He told Hollis to drive slowly, past the suits. He squinted, focusing on the one in the passenger seat.

Blonde. Square jawed. Athletic.

Clair.

Gibbs's long day was not about to get any better.

[Brky2020]

Chapter 13

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Washington, D.C.

12:40 a.m.

Hollis got out of Gibbs's neighborhood fast and headed for Interstate 395.

From the time she pulled off Gibbs's street, Hollis constantly switched between keeping her eyes on the road and looking in her rear and side mirrors, at adjacent buildings and up at the sky. Gibbs did the same and both looked for hostiles, drones and other potential threats.

"You gonna tell me what this is about?" Gibbs said as she pulled onto New York Avenue.

"Wait," Hollis replied, speeding up after noting the clear road ahead of her. She pulled onto I-395 South. Once in the tunnel, she began to talk.

"McCallister's done some very shady things, Gibbs, all the way back to when he got into the spy game," she said. "There was an incident in California when he was SAC of their West Coast division, a case I wasn't allowed to discuss with you before you say anything... Army CID worked with him on a case involving some squids and grunts. All from the same small town in east Texas, all signed up during President Broome's recruitment drive.

"They all got leave and went out drinking in Huntington Beach, went back to the hotel with some women who were undercover Stasi and Cuban DI. The next day was the attack on Camp Pendleton."

"Hundreds dead," Gibbs said, checking his phone for text messages.

"As the joint investigation proceeded," she continued, "McCallister became convinced two of the men had sold out their country and the others were covering for him, and they all had been paid off by the Stasi agent. We had come to another conclusion: they were set up to take the fall."

"I remember hearing something about an investigation, that San Diego ran it, and both sailors and the three infantry were killed in an accident," Gibbs said. "Happened the same time Ari tried to kill us in Norfolk."

Hollis looked in her side mirror, then took a sharp turn past a bank. "They were to meet the Stasi agent in Escondido. Their SUV blew up, killing them all; the Stasi was shot while running. Our man was the last to talk to her alive. Her last words were 'sie eingerichtet wurden'."

"'They were set up'," Gibbs said. "You suspect they were, by McCallister."

"The remains of the SUV -- and of the men -- were supposed to be taken to a Navy facility. They were collected by NCIS, and lost enroute."

"Lost?"

"Afterwards, the NCO heading our end of the investigation began looking into McCallister, but he died in a car accident a few days later, and the case was reassigned. The remains were never found -- take that for what you will. Some CID personnel refused to let the case go, and continued looking into McCallister."

"I suppose you found something."

"Nothing concrete to take up the chain of command, but lots of allegations," Hollis replied. "Kidnappings. Torture. Blackmail. More mysterious 'accidents'. Rumors he would set up suspects to be killed by the likes of KGB and Al-Qaeda. Using fronts for drug running to entrap suspects, then killing them and taking the money for himself."

"You got proof for this, Hollis?"

"Whatever we could find -- again, on our own time -- was enough to make one suspicious but not enough to charge. There were more disturbing rumors, one involving NCIS. McCallister allegedly intentionally killed a young agent in Amsterdam during an op in the early '90s, as part of a cover-up."

"Hollis..."

Even though he was convinced McCallister was a bastard, Gibbs knew better than to rely solely on scuttlebutt to build a case. An agent in McCallister's position doing things by the book would've made plenty of enemies, some who would've tried to frame him.

But there were a lot of unknowns about this special ops division that he knew virtually nothing about. He couldn't keep tabs on the whole agency, but he didn't expect he would've been unaware of something like special ops.

He never pried into Director Morrow's business, but he did so somewhat with Jenny. He knew her well enough to know she liked her secrets -- although what he had just found out about her was an eye-opener for the ex-Marine.

In any case, neither director ever read Gibbs in on special ops' existence and purpose.

Gibbs told himself he should've known more, at least what that division was and its main players. If he had, maybe he could've somehow prevented Jenny and her driver from dying.

--SLAP!--

Hearing the loud slap, Hollis swiftly turned her head towards Gibbs, whose hand was hovering over the back of his head as he muttered profanities to himself. "Jethro?!?"

"Damn it, Hollis. How in the hell did I miss all of this--"

"Listen to me," she said. "They kept that thing a secret. You had no reason to be aware of them and your directors weren't going to read you in."

She looked into her rearview mirror for the fifth time in the past minute before turning off Columbia Pike, heading for Army-Navy Drive. "You know about him and that division NOW. You're in position to find out how deep he's involved in her death and bring him in if necessary."

Gibbs flashed back to Fornell, what the FBI agent told him, and the flash drive.

"McGee," he muttered. How much danger was he in, being in possession of that thing? How much danger was the entire team in? Gibbs dialed McGee's cell.

"McGee. Sitrep."

"I'm hitting a brick wall, Boss," McGee said as he looked out his apartment window. "The algorithm generating the key that encrypts the data is the most complex I've ever seen--"

"English, McGee."

"Um, okay. Encrypted information has a key that unlocks it and makes it accessible. If you don't have the key, it's possible to pick the lock, so to speak, and get in. Thing is, every time I think I've picked the lock, I get thrown back to the front gate and I have to start from scratch."

"Keep at it, McGee. I need to know what's on that thing."

"There's something else, Boss," McGee said. "Suits. They're in a sedan, a Sable or Taurus, on the street outside my apartment. I noticed them an hour ago."

"Why didn't you call me, McGee?"

"Thought the flash drive took precedence, and I didn't see anyone snooping around my front door. Boss, what if they knock?"

"Stay there, stop doing what you've been doing. I'll call DiNozzo and tell him to go to you."

"Tony??? Boss--"

"Rule 40, McGee." After hanging up, he called Tony, who had his own set of suits watching his apartment. Gibbs told him to go to McGee's apartment, then called Kate -- who told him she had been followed to Abby's apartment -- and Ziva, who was at Ducky's house with Ducky, Palmer, Ducky's mother Victoria and her legion of Corgis.

Then Gibbs cursed himself, because he didn't want Hollis to know about the flash drive, nor did he want to lie to her. Before he could say something, she pulled off Army-Navy Drive into a fenced-off complex marked US ARMY PERSONNEL ONLY. She punched in a code and flashed a badge at the gate, then drove to and stopped behind a row of trailers.

"I heard enough of your conversation that I assume he's got the rest of your team under surveillance," Hollis said as she shut off the engine. "Are they alright?"

"For now," Gibbs said. "I'll need to touch base with my people."

Hollis pulled out her cell phone and placed a call to a colleague. "Army CID's investigating suspicious Communist activity in the very areas your people happen to live. What a coincidence," she deadpanned.

"Rule 39."

"I'm sorry?"

"'There's no such thing as a coincidence'," he said. "No coincidence we're here, either."

"You're right, Jethro," she said. "There is something else, and I'm asking you to trust me on what I'm about to tell -- and show -- you. And to keep it confidential."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"Khalinin's coup set off a multitude of chain reactions, including within the Army," she said. "This afternoon Army CID worldwide were told to begin preparations."

"Preparations for what?"

"Transition to war."

Neither had anything to add to that.

"Why are we here, Lieutenant Colonel?"

She checked out their surroundings for the third time, then turned to face him.

"Agent Gibbs. Do you remember the case at the golf course. Not the Marine Colonel."

"Sergeant Grayle. Army."

"We cleared him of the murder of a petty officer found near a sandtrap."

"Made a point of saying he was an average guy in the wrong place at the wrong time," Gibbs said. "Drove DiNozzo nuts. Hope you've got me in the right place at the right time."

"I do, and I'm going to show you for yourself," she replied. "This is big, the most important thing you've ever seen, something...when I saw it for myself and was told what it represented, I, I...come on. We're going for a walk."

Hollis opened her car door and stepped outside, with Gibbs following her lead. She led him to a garbage container that actually was the entrance to a tunnel.

They hurried down the dimly-lit tunnel for a city block, until they came to an elevator. "Get in," Hollis told Gibbs. It went down and opened into a large, musty room just slightly better lit than the tunnel. From there, they walked past a series of boxes and crates to an elevator on the other side of the room. The elevator took them up, into a small, equally dimly-lit supply room.

"Wherever the hell it is you're taking me better have lights," Gibbs grumbled. "Where are we now?"

She waited until they stopped walking to reply. As she took out a pocket flashlight, Gibbs focused on his surroundings. It took him just a few moments to realize--

"We're in the lobby of the old Drug Enforcement Administration museum," Hollis said, aiming the light at the DEA logo on a dusty marble wall. "It closed down in '03 when the government began buying up property around the Pentagon."

"Lots of property; government wanted to protect the Pentagon, figured civilians being so close played into the Soviets' hands," Gibbs added. "Something tells me there's more."

"You're right. Come on. A little longer and you'll see what I brought you here for."

"DEA know that you broke into their property, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"Let's just say the Army and the DEA have an friendly arrangement; that's why the tunnel starts on our property. It's not the only tunnel around here, either."

"There are others, Hollis?"

Hollis put her finger to his lips, then started jogging down a hallway, to yet another elevator. Gibbs jogged after her and started to say something, but she put her finger on his lips yet again; he got the message to shut up, and the elevator went down what Gibbs thought was six floors.

This time, the doors opened to a sleeker, better lit and cleaner hallway, one Gibbs would expect to see in a federal building. "Now we go down the rabbit hole," she whispered. "Stay to the right and hurry. My people can't keep us blind forever."

Gibbs swore to himself and briefly considered stopping her to get some answers to his growing pile of questions. His gut, however, told him not to do that, but to trust her and follow her down the hallway. And, whatever questions the end of the hallway answered would lead to a mountain of more questions.

The walk was very quick for such a long hallway for Gibbs. He tried to read Hollis's face as he walked alongside her; she was focused on the door at the end of the hallway, her eyes and body language indicated she was keeping her emotions at bay, and that she had been here before, more than once.

The door itself was made of metal and circular, with a brightly lit touch screen panel to its right. Hollis swiftly pulled a couple of cards out of her inside jacket pocket; she passed the first card over the panel, and they heard a short beep. She held the second card over the panel for five seconds, at which Gibbs heard another beep.

A numeric keypad, shaded in navy blue, then appeared on the panel. She punched in a combination of 21 numbers, at which point the panel beeped three times -- long, short, long.

"You ready, Jethro?" Hollis asked him as she unexpectedly and suddenly grabbed his hand.

"Didn't come all this way for nothing," he said, his smirk putting her more at ease. She then reached in her jacket for what Gibbs thought was some kind of crystal, a shade of blue he later determined was azure. It was just over six inches long, as thick as a cigar, and pointed on both ends.

Hollis put one of the ends onto the 5 on the keypad, and held it there for five seconds. "Stand back," she said, pulling him backwards by the hand. The door opened onto yet another hallway. She took Gibbs through the doorway inside and to the left, and down about 50 feet, where there were a series of windows.

After going into the hallway and as they got closer to the row of windows, Gibbs could hear and feel a persistent humming.

He had no frame of reference for what he saw once he got to those windows.

He and Hollis looked down at what appeared to be a large auditorium, with dozens of people milling around amidst tables and workstations all surrounding a single object. Neither he nor Hollis couldn't help but gawk at the gigantic greyish metal ring, attached to a larger, greyish polygon base, in the middle of the auditorium.

"What in the hell is that thing, Hollis?"

"They call it the Exodus Device, Jethro, only to be used in the event of an unavoidable, all-out nuclear war. The federal government and the military has been preparing for it for some time--"

"'Some time'?!? Since when? How long?"

"At least when Khalinin put himself in charge of the Soviet Red Army," she replied. "The hope is that this week in Geneva, Khalinin will see reason and pull back his country's own preparation for war. If not, that Exodus Device is our last hope."

"Exodus...it's not a bomb, is it?"

Hollis shook her head. "It's an escape device."

"Escape, to where?"

"I'm still not sure...but as insane as this sounds, it's to take people to another planet, another dimension, another universe when the missiles start flying."

Hollis turned and grabbed Gibbs by the shoulders. "I didn't bring you here for the hell of it, not just to read you in, and not to bullshit you. That device is very real, and it may end up saving lives. Yours and your people."

[James G]

This really is an excellent story. Keep going!

[Brky2020]

Aug 27, 2018 12:54:58 GMT James G said:

This really is an excellent story. Keep going!

Ask and ye shall receive.


Chapter 14

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

--The Eminent Domain Act gave the federal government a major discount on buying up property around the Pentagon. This included Reagan International Airport, which was turned into the new Andrews Air Force Base in 2006. At the same time, the old Andrews base was expanded and reopened as the new Reagan airport--

Gibbs turned his gaze from Hollis back towards the ring down in the auditorium, and then he couldn't tear himself away.

He guessed the ring itself was roughly five stories high and equally as wide, the base two stories thick and roughly 60 yards long by 60 yards wide. From his angle, Gibbs noted steps going up two of the four sides visible from his angle and people on both sides of the ring; they were standing or walking on, or by, ramps arching up towards the ring and meeting in the middle.

An alarm then sounded in the auditorium, spooking Gibbs. "It's alright, that's not for us," Hollis said. "Watch."

As the white-coated people hurried down to the floor, Gibbs looked around the auditorium. He noticed more people in the white coats, some in civilian attire, and others in military uniform or military gear. He was way too distant from them to see details, and his eyesight wasn't that great anyway.

The next best thing for Gibbs was to ask someone with better eyesight who had been here before. "Civilians and military down there?"

"Yeah," Hollis answered. "Scientists, computer techs, military officers, nurses, Marines, you name it, all culled from dozens of civilian and government agencies from NASA to Microsoft."

"How often do they test that thing?"

"I've been told daily."

"Is that another test going on, down there?"

"Yeah, and we won't have long to wait to see it in action. You'll hear a loud 'whirr' and the ring itself will to glow green. As long as you don't stare directly at the light in the middle for too long, you'll be fine."

Hollis and Gibbs saw the pace pick up all across the auditorium, especially around the ring and its base. As people moved to their workstations and to other areas, a group of civilians, scientists and military personnel gathered around a large station roughly 40 feet from the front of the ring.

A couple of minutes later, the side of the ring began to glow as another alarm sounded. Shortly afterwards, rays of light emanated from inside the ring towards its middle, into a disc. Within minutes, the disc had filled the rim.

"Watch," Hollis said.

Gibbs saw the air vibrate at the base of the right side, then watched in astonishment as two beige military humvees slowly came through the disc. The vehicles stopped, then turned towards, and down, the steps on the far side.

"Did I just see what I thought I saw?" Gibbs asked.

"I had the same reaction the first time I saw that for myself," Hollis said. "And by the way it was four Army humvees, an entire company on foot, an SUV filled with Congresspeople and a K-9 unit."

"You could tell this how?"

"The vehicles, soldiers and dogs were obvious. I was told about the Congresspeople on my second visit."

Hollis expected the side of the ring to dim, and for the disc of light to slowly shrink until it disappeared. However, the side continued to glow, and they saw the air vibrating on the other side.

To her surprise, three Black Hawk helicopters flew out that side and went towards the rear of the auditorium, where each landed. Only then did the disc shrink and the side of the ring dim until it returned to the state it was when Gibbs first saw it.

Afterwards, as business proceeded throughout the auditorium, Gibbs squatted down and tried to collect his thoughts. Hollis gave him a few minutes, then put her hand on his arm. "Jethro, we need to leave. I'll debrief you in the car."

He got up, looked at the scene and tried to memorize as much of it as he could in 30 seconds, then followed Hollis out of the hallway, and all the way back to her car. As she placed calls to her fellow CID agents, Gibbs reflected on what he had just seen.

Although he grew up watching Gunsmoke and reading Jack London, Gibbs in fact did have some working knowledge of science fiction. He had read Asimov, Bradbury and Wells and -- despite what he had hinted to Abby -- had watched a few Star Trek episodes. And he had watched a handful of sci-fi movies with Tony ranging from the classic (2001) to the absurd (Plan 9 from Outer Space).

Gibbs had no more than a bare-bones familiarity with the genre, however. His world was filled with boats, bastards, military and a fierce devotion to the family and friends he had built for himself to make up for the loss of those he couldn't protect. Despite their brief separation, Hollis was among those whom Gibbs considered family. He trusted and loved her greatly, and if she said something was serious he was going to pay attention.

What he had just seen, he realized, was as big and serious as it might get in this world.

"How many people know about this, besides us?" he asked.

"I'm not exactly sure. Tens of thousands--"

"How many?"

"--the President, the Joint Chiefs, Congress, the Supreme Court," Hollis said. "I know all five branches of the military are involved but Army and Air Force are taking the lead. The CIA's involved in some way, how I can't tell you yet. NASA and FEMA's involved for certain, and from what we've been able to dig up, anyone from any agency you would expect to be involved in an operation to rebuild civilization elsewhere."

From there, Gibbs threw question after question at her. Hollis said this particular ring was the only one she knew for certain existed, but there were strong rumors of more rings. Large rings in Area 51 in Nevada, upstate New York, west Texas, Montana, Alaska and the Appalachians, and smaller rings in 52 of the top 75 cities. Britain, Japan, China, Israel, France and Germany had their own rings; Hollis had even heard rumors that the Communist Bloc had their own devices, either copied from the Americans or developed independently.

"You said this had to do with McCallister," Gibbs said. "How many people in the government know about this? Does this extend to directors?"

"Jethro, yes. We think from every federal agency. Again, think of who you would need to rebuild the government--"

"So Jenny would have known most likely."

"She would have, and her family if she had one."

"But not assistant directors."

"If there were time, perhaps."

"Would someone kill for that kind of access, assuming they thought the world was coming to an end and they themselves weren't on the short list?"

"Theoretically, yes," Hollis said. "In actuality, you'd have to answer that for yourself."

"I suppose I'll have to, now."

The drive home was quiet, although they both kept an eye out for unexpected and unwanted guests. Hollis had told Gibbs everything she could, and Gibbs took advantage of the ride to reflect on what he'd seen and been told.

As he did so, he asked himself where his investigation was heading. Would finding Jenny's killer be the easy part of it? And, would uncovering the reasons behind the murder be what put himself, and his family, in the crosshairs?

[Brky2020]

Chapter 15

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Washington, D.C.

7 a.m. EDT

Outside Director McCallister's office, the entire Navy Yard was crawling with activity, with the goal being remaking the facility into an armed and wired camp in one night.

When Gibbs's team and the other day shift employees arrived for work around 0700, they'd see a few dozen extra suits on campus and be observed by a few hundred unseen surveillance cameras.

McCallister of course knew every last detail, as he helped draw up the new security measures being implemented in all NCIS stations worldwide. They were part of the security protocols McCallister first proposed to Morrow and later got conditional approval for by Shepard.

He'd leave the details to his trusted lieutenants. As the new director of the agency, McCallister had bigger fish to fry. While four of the suits stood guard outside his door, McCallister leaned back in his chair and began reading the fact sheet in his hands.

It confirmed what he suspected for weeks: the geopolitical situation was on the proverbial tightrope, teetering between the status quo and total war, and could fall in either direction at any time. Between certain media outlets' patriotism, the Conway Act and aggressive disinformation campaigns, the public was kept ignorant of the true global situation. The last thing the federal government and military wanted was to have deal with mass panic on American streets. Until recently, the feds had managed the flow of information to their favor; however, the facts were very slowly getting out to the Western public, primarily through the internet.

As a result, a small percentage of people had begun preparing for doomsday.

Land prices in the rural western U.S. and Canada had skyrocketed over the last week. Sales of weapons on the domestic black market had doubled in frequency and tripled in price. Wealthy individuals and some corporations had begun transferring assets to countries that were thought to be safe havens in the event of a global war.

Spot shortages of anything thought to be useful to survival in the event of such a war had also begun to be reported in the west: rubbing alcohol in Lethbridge, aspirin in Durango, and propane in Baker City were just the tip of the iceberg.

Domestic surveillance also suggested that around 15,000 people had left urban areas for perceived safer rural areas. McCallister knew of three NCIS employees here in Washington, including a CyberCrimes agent, who had suddenly taken sick days for the remainder of the week.

Since last fall, all five branches of the military had conducted exercises that the public was told were intended to "increase military effectiveness in the ongoing war on terror". In reality, they had been preparing for conventional war.

Military planners identified five regions where war was most likely to break out between west and east:

* Central Europe was the most obvious flashpoint. The USSR had built up its forces over the past 18 months in East Germany and Czechoslovakia, and it was plain that it was in preparation for a land and air attack on West Germany and Austria. West Berlin -- surrounded on all sides by a physical and virtual wall -- had East German and Pact-related forces doubled in the past month.
* The Middle East was the second most obvious flashpoint. Though neutral Saudi Arabia sold its oil to everyone, the Soviets had repeatedly sought more exclusive access especially after the mess in the Siberian oil fields. Since the death of Saddam Hussein, NATO forces had stared at their World Pact counterparts across the Iraqi-Iranian border. And the KGB and Stasi were always eager to fund anti-U.S./Israeli groups in the region.
* Africa had become a third flashpoint for one reason: minerals. The Americans, Chinese and Europeans and their African allies had 85% of the coveted rare earth minerals. The Luanda Pact nations -- propped up by their Soviet "comrades" -- had the other 15%.
* Asia was a fourth flashpoint and Taipei likely to provide the spark. While the Nationalist government and Beijing were finally at peace, the Soviets, East Germans and their Hanoi Pact allies were actively supporting "people's revolution" among workers and college students in the island nation. Of course, that spark also could also be lit along the Korean DMZ; in Thailand between the People's Republic and the CIA-backed resistance; or over Indonesian oil. Intel suggested "significant military movement in far eastern Siberia, which posed possible threats to China, Japan or even South Korea.
* The other flashpoint was right on America's doorstep, from the Mexican border down to Panama. The Soviets had funded the cartels since the early 1990s to keep the Yanquis busy, while the KGB and Cubans established friendly governments in the region from Guatemala to the Dominican Republic. Havana Pact countries were covertly supporting revolución in Belize and Panama, the latter to gain access to the Panama Canal.[/li]

In the hours since Khalinin's coup, Soviet military activity in all five regions had increased. In contrast, Red Army/Warsaw Pact activity in Europe and along the Chinese border hadn't increased; of course, buildup in both areas had been high for months. If the Soviets wanted to invade West Germany or Tibet, they were ready.

Thinking of the Soviets and their allies being ready on five fronts scared McCallister to death, because he saw it as the prelude to the unthinkable. If the Geneva talks failed, war was certain. It would initially be fought in the air and sea and on the ground -- the conventional phase -- with everyone realizing any event could cause one side to launch a nuke at the other.

The other side would instantly retaliate by launching a nuke of their own. Conventional fighting would continue until someone decided to use the nukes in a tactical manner, against enemy troops or ships or to cut off supply routes. The entire globe would be engulfed in war, and it'd be almost impossible to keep it conventional. When the missiles flew, that'd be it for humanity on this planet.

As much as he dreaded it, McCallister expected total nuclear war. Accordingly, he wanted NCIS as prepared as possible.

No matter who got in his way.

[Brky2020]

Chapter 16

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Washington, D.C.

Five hours earlier (2:22 a.m. EDT)

As soon as they left the Army lot, Hollis and Gibbs picked up on a dark Crown Victoria tailing them. Hollis drove 11 blocks trying to ditch the car and was about to place a call to a colleague when she saw red and blue flashing lights in her rearview mirror.

The lights were off in the distance and closing around the vehicle tailing them. She didn't wait around, speeding away after guessing seven or eight Metro police vehicles to have surrounded the car.

"Glad I won't need Javy," Hollis said of her colleague, who she told Gibbs was a fellow CID officer which patrolled the area when CID made "visits" to the property they had just left. She also explained that she and Javy were part of a small group of CID personnel who knew about the Exodus Project and with that knowledge came danger.

"There aren't a lot of us within CID who've seen it for ourselves," she explained. "I know a handful of agents from other agencies who've seen it for themselves: DEA, FBI, CIA and before you ask, Fornell's not one of them. The group of people who know about this who aren't supposed to is small; you were vetted heavily by our group before I got the go ahead to bring you there."

"Figured that, Hollis. Forgot to tell me that little detail, by the way."

"I'm telling you, now."

"Anything else you forgot to tell me?"

Hollis exhaled in frustration. "Yeah. I'm flying you to Area 51 to meet the green men from Mars who built that thing."

Gibbs smirked.

"Jethro, we've had to draw our little circle tight," she continued. "I only found out three weeks ago from a fellow NCO I know from Fort Bragg. He told me I'd been vetted for weeks; you only got in because you've been thoroughly checked out and the people responsible for that busted their asses to do it in days, not the usual three to six weeks. Being my boyfriend wasn't good enough; the people leading this group wanted to know that you'd keep the secret and not blab it all over town -- not even to your own people."

"Not that I was gonna 'blab it all over town', but there's more to this than finding Jen's killer, unless someone knew weeks ago she was gonna get killed."

"No one saw that coming, Jethro."

"So you were already planning this."

"Jethro," she said, "if things get...as bad as they could, I'm on a secondary list to go through that thing and over to whatever planet or dimension they have designated for the evacuees to--"

"List?"

"There's a primary list, for basically anyone you'd expect to be necessary to rebuild civilization. The secondary list is for anyone else they can find on the streets when the sirens go off."

"Anyone they can find, Hollis...doesn't make sense," Gibbs said. "In that scenario, the city'd be depopulated or there'd be mass panic. What in hell would you do then -- get as far out of town as you could as quick as you could or run in town and look for some giant magic ring to save your ass?"

"That's the plan, as far as we can determine. This is Washington, remember?"

They chuckled, and Hollis's demeanor turned serious again.

"I was able to call in some favors and watch over your team tonight. I won't be able to do that again," she said. "At 2034, we received a call from Metro about a shootout. Army Ranger assigned to the Pentagon we believe was looking to buy coke was shot dead. The shooter refused to give ID. We found he is Petty Officer Miguel Romero, and is AWOL from the USS Rutherford, which is currently in the Gulf of Mexico."

"Normally I'd have gotten that call and had my team on the scene by now."

"I was able to keep a lid on it for a little while. Within the next hour you'll get a call informing you about the shooting. You'll need to hand it off to another agent, or two; we think Romero's involved with the Reynosa cartel."

"Russians who took over shed a lot of blood down there doing so," Gibbs said. "I can pass it off to Patterson, get Strickland to help him...got any ideas how I find out more about that thing you showed me? Besides you handing over your files?"

Hollis smiled. "I'll see what I can get you in the next 48 hours. In the meantime, open the glove department and grab the white envelope."

Gibbs did so.

"Thumb drive. That's where our group's techies began. Have McGee search quietly and under no circumstances from your computers at NCIS. And tell him not to get caught -- the information that drive unlocks is cleared for the highest levels only."

"How high?"

"'You're dead if you're found out' level. Literally."

They saw both CID and suits sitting in their vehicles, watching them as she pulled up in front of his house. They both got out and searched the back yard, then both floors of the house and the basement. Gibbs watched from his porch as she and the other CID agents drove away, then gave the suits a withering look before he went inside.

Gibbs then did something he almost never did -- lock his front door -- and began calling the rest of his team. He told everyone to stay put for the night and to be at work by 0700. He'd have to wait to talk with McGee about the thumb drives until the morning, although he didn't like it.

He went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, watching the street while the pot brewed. Afterwards, Gibbs went downstairs and began looking for bugs; he got the call about Romero, then called Patterson and ordered him to take the case, before going upstairs for a quick shower.

0600 didn't come soon enough for Gibbs. Locking his front door, after having made sure his back door and windows were secure, he got in his sedan and headed for the Navy Yard. Even with two pots of coffee in him and a large thermos full beside him in the passenger seat, it was shaping up to be another long day.

He hoped his people would cut him some slack for being a little more cranky than usual.

--General Samuel Lane was heckled yesterday outside the Pentagon by a half-dozen students from George Washington and Georgetown universities. Fox News was there live, and remained on the scene as the General left the Pentagon and over four dozen protestors, many representing a group of Vietnam War and Gulf War veterans, arrived--

--people have been arriving at St. Peter's Basilica to pray for peace since the announcement of the former Soviet premier's death--

--the Daily Planet is reporting that New Troy Senator Martha Kent has broken with the Democratic Party's 'peace plank' --

[Brky2020]

Chapter 17

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

--This is the BBC News at Twelve.

Members of British and other Western media outlets within the Soviet Union continue to be held within their places of employment or in their homes.

The British government has filed a formal protest--



--there has been no response as of yet from Moscow on the treatment of Western journalists. CBS News has learned that Anatoly Dashkov, the Soviet ambassador to the U.S., has ignored repeated requests from the White House to meet with President Boehner--



--member nations of the World Pact are following the Soviet embassy's lead here in Canberra. No one has left any of the embassies since Khalinin was announced as Soviet general secretary--



--tells ZNN the investigation of the death of Naval Criminal Investigative Service director Jennifer Shepard is ongoing and there is no news to report at this time--

Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters

7:04 a.m.

Gibbs walked off the elevator and headed right for the bullpen, where he saw his three agents and Mossad officer David at their desks. He also saw a brand new single-serve coffee maker on a table next to the monitor closest to Tony's desk.

As cranky as he was, Gibbs decided to let it slide, especially since he had -- to everyone else's surprise -- an automatic-drip coffee maker boxed up behind his desk. After wordlessly setting it up to make himself a pot, Gibbs grabbed the remote off McGee's desk and pointed it at both monitors.

Jenny's mugshot appeared, and his demeanor turned steely.

"Director Shepard's killer is out there, somewhere, and we're not going to stop until we find that person," Gibbs said. "That for the foreseeable future is our only objective. We don't rest. We don't slack. We work every angle. We check out every possible lead until we're certain where it goes. Anything that leads us to the answer of who killed the director we follow through. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes boss!" "Yes Gibbs!" He left them in the bullpen as he headed toward the back elevator. Only then did he notice more suits on the floor than there were the previous day, and there was one waiting for him in the elevator.

Morgue

His mood wasn't improved by his unwanted companion, nor by the suits standing guard outside the sliding door into the morgue and definitely not by the half-dozen suits inside, one of whom peered over Ducky's shoulder wherever he went.

"Agent Gibbs," Palmer said before heading out with blood samples. Gibbs looked over at Ducky, who was visibly perturbed at the woman following him around. She met Gibbs's glare with one of her own, but she backed away to give Ducky and him some privacy.

"How long she been on your ass, Duck?"

"From the time Mr. Palmer, Mother and I arrived here. I was going to have Mother sit with us instead of leaving her alone back at the mansion, but I was informed she did not have 'proper clearance'." Ducky glanced toward the woman who had backed off and was staring at them next to the door. "I haven't had the opportunity to see where they took her--"

"Don't worry, Duck. I'll find her," Gibbs said. "Got anything more for me on Jenny and the driver?"

Gibbs followed Ducky to the morgue's refrigerated drawers. "Abby believes she will verify your initial suspicions regarding the murder weapon," Ducky said as he pointed to the entrance and exit wounds on Jenny and the driver's bodies.

"Same ones we saw on the Admiral."

"Consistent with other victims we've encountered or heard about, beginning with the Senator nearly three years ago. These weapons are not easily acquired here in the States, Jethro."

"But they are in the Soviet Union," Gibbs said. "Most of the Pact countries use East German weapons. Spetsnaz use their own. KGB's been known to use this type of weapon on occasion."

"I hope this gets us closer to finding their murderer, Jethro."

"So do I, Duck."

Gibbs turned and headed for the door, stopping briefly to glare at the woman who resumed following Ducky around the morgue after the agent left.

Forensics Lab

Gibbs then went up one floor to forensics, which he noted had two agents at the entrance. Two more were in the lab with Abby, and two others slowly walking between Abby's office and ballistics.

Abby looked a little stressed and very much frustrated; her Caf!-Pow was nowhere to be found and her stereo was off.

"Gibbs," she said quietly, her eyes darting between him and the suits wandering around her lab as she stood at the workstation in the middle of the main area.

"Abs, you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. "Just working."

Gibbs gave each of the three suits nearby a hard glare; all three stood their ground but didn't approach him. He gently put his hand on Abby's arm to comfort her; Gibbs was glad that gesture relaxed her, even if just a little.

Abby turned back to the casings lying on the table behind her workstation. "Casings match that of a Soviet-made nine-by-thirty-nine millimeter bullet, most commonly found in--"

"A VSS Vintorez silencer sniper rifle," Gibbs said. "They're not even trying to hide it."

The suits in the room turned their attention completely to Gibbs, who, unlike Abby, didn't acknowledge their stares. "M.O. used in certain deaths over the past four years. The admiral. Congresswoman from Texas. That computer billionaire."

"Director Morrow," Abby whispered.

"Yeah." Gibbs didn't like how down Abby was. He couldn't do anything about the suits but that didn't mean he had to leave her alone. So he dialed Kate's phone and told her to get to the lab.

"Gibbs, I'll be alright," Abby protested, weakly. "Really, I'm fine--"

"Rule 28, Abs. If you need help, ask."

"I don't need any help, Gibbs. They're not really bothering me. It's just like a scene from one of Tony's movies that Kate and I talked about last night and this morning that come to think of it probably weren't even made even the Men in--"

"Abs." She stopped talking. "Abs, the Marines have a motto: 'never leave a man behind'."

He gave her a few moments to let that sink in.

"Gibbs! I'm right here and I'm not hurt--"

"And you're not yourself either," he said. "I need all of us at our best right now."

He heard Kate enter the lab and turned to her. "Agent Todd. Said you got something for me?"

"Yeah. A kid's in the conference room who wants to talk to you. ohs-nay ome-say ing-thay. Suits offered to escort him up. Tony declined their kind offer, took the kid up there himself."

Gibbs glanced at Abby and at the suits before turning to Kate. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Nothing new on my end. We're all spinning our wheels."

"Keep spinning 'til you get traction, Kate. You'll work down here with Abby for the time being. When I need you, Palmer'll be here with her." He turned and sprinted to the door, and Kate realized her question about how long she was to work in the lab was beside the point.