Point of a Needle, Head of a Pin
Hangman prize for Shinju90. Multi-chapter.
NCIS/Supernatural Crossover
Genre: uh, gee…
Rating: T for language and violence
Characters: NCIS – The MCRT, Ducky, Abby, Palmer, and Vance; Supernatural – Team Free Will (including Bobby) and guests.
Set in early/mid season 7 of NCIS, early/mid season 5 of Supernatural, with flashbacks to the previous season for both.
Disclaimer: I don't own either. Bummer.
Summary: A naval officer, missing for a year, turns up dead. The case becomes very personal for a member of Gibbs' team.
How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?
It depends on the tune.
-The Crow, J O'Barr
The immense warehouse was eerily silent as Officer Roger Ferrera eased through the ruined doorway and shined his flashlight around the cavernous space. The call had come in to Dispatch roughly half an hour ago: someone cruising through the area had heard a disturbance and had placed an anonymous call to inform the police that a gang was tearing apart one of the warehouses in the area's oldest industrial park. Ferrera and his partner, Frank Hutchins, had been the closest to the park and had indicated that they would check it out. Vandalism wasn't generally high on their priority list, but since the warehouses belonged to one of the department's major supporters, a courtesy was extended quite willingly.
When the officers had arrived, they saw that every single window in the largest and most remote warehouse was shattered. The two men had then checked the perimeter and noticed that all of the doors were hanging loosely on their hinges. They had waited in silence, alert to any sign of the perpetrators, but the vandals appeared to have abandoned their tasks. Hutchins had suggested they split up to enter from the back and front of the warehouse, and Ferrera had reluctantly agreed, after calling for backup, and had headed for the main entrance.
Once inside, he looked around for a light switch and soon found a bank of switches to the right of the door. He flipped them all on, and only one weak bulb in the corner flicked to life. He shined his flashlight at the fixtures overhead and saw that the long tubes in the fluorescent lights were also shattered.
"Damn," he muttered. "What the hell were they doing in here?" He could now see that several sets of heavy shelving had been knocked over, creating a domino effect for the rest of the storage areas. As he passed the manager's office he noticed that all the windows, as well as the computer monitors and TV screen had been broken as well. "Christ. The chief is gonna have a shit fit when he sees what those punks did to his buddy's property, and now we gotta bring in the SOC monkeys."
"Rog? You copy? Over."
Ferrera pressed the button on his shoulder mic. "I copy. Over."
"We've got a body. Over."
"Gang member? Over.
"Doubt it. Get on the horn and tell the chief to call NCIS. Over."
"Navy cops? Body's a sailor? Over."
"Looks like an officer. Wait…"
Ferrera waited for his partner to give the sign he was done, but the com was silent. "Frank?"
He pulled his gun from its holster and cautiously made his way towards the back of the warehouse. Soon he spotted his partner, who was standing with his back to him and slowly moving his flashlight across and around the body sprawled on the floor in front of him.
"Frank?"
Hutchins turned and looked at his partner, his eyes wide with shock, and pointed at the body.
"Look."
Ferrera moved closer and turned his attention to the images his partner was illuminating with his flashlight. I took him a few moments to realize what he was seeing.
"What in the hell…?"
XXX
The cell phone vibrated against the coffee table, its frantic dance drawing Gibbs from an uneasy sleep. He grabbed the phone and answered it.
"Yeah, Gibbs… Mac? What…?" Gibbs listened, eyes widening slightly as he listened to the caller. "Yeah, OK. I got it. I get my team there ASAP. Yeah, understood." He snapped the phone shut, swung his legs over the side of the couch and pulled himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes, opened his phone again and pressed a number.
"DiNozzo," the groggy voice on the other end answered.
"We got a case. Warehouse district in Frederick."
"Got it. I'll call McGee and Ziva."
"The Yard in thirty."
"On it, Boss."
Gibbs ended the call and headed up the stairs to get ready, but his mind was on what Mac had told him.
Looks like it's gonna be a weird one…
XXX
Gibbs brought the agency sedan to a halt in front of the warehouse and climbed out just as the MCRT truck and M.E.'s van arrived with the rest of the team.
"What do we got, Boss?"
"Body of a naval officer was found inside by two patrol officers."
Tony looked up at the building in front of them. "Looks like a bomb went off inside. Was it a bomb?"
"Don't know, DiNozzo, that's what we're going to find out."
The team grabbed their supplies from the truck before heading into the warehouse, followed by Ducky and Palmer. The local police force had set up floodlights inside and the team paused for a moment as they took in the scene surrounding them.
"Looks like a heard of elephants on PCP went through here," observed Tony as they headed for the back of the warehouse.
"PCP's a tranquilizer for animals, Tony."
"I know that, Probie, but…never mind. What's with you, McGrouchy?"
"Not enough sleep."
"Up all night killing people again?"
McGee noticed a group of local officers turn and give him strange looks. "No, Tony, I was not up all night playing computer games," he said, loud enough for the officers to hear. They chuckled and returned to their conversation.
"So what were you doing, McGee?" asked Ziva.
"Trying to sleep, but…"
"But what?"
"Nothing. Just really weird dreams."
"Really?" Tony drawled with a grin. "Anything you want to share?"
"Not like that. Just… weird."
"Define 'weird'."
"Drop it, Tony, I…" McGee caught sight of the body and stopped so suddenly Tony nearly ran into him.
"Nice warning there, McTrainwreck. What…?" Tony heard Ziva gasp as he saw what had drawn McGee's attention. He froze for several moments before managing to croak, "What in the hell…?"
The body, dressed in the uniform of a Navy Lieutenant, was on its back, arms and legs outspread. The body was mostly unmarked, and the only sign of violence was what appeared to be a diamond-shaped puncture wound in the chest. What had drawn their collective attention, however, were the marks around the body. They appeared to be made of ash and stretched out from either side, spanning nearly twenty feet. The shapes that had at first appeared to be random soon resolved to form an incredible, impossible image…
They looked like wings.
TBC…
*SOC = Scene of Crime, another name for CSIs.
It will be a little while, but hopefully not too long until the next chapter. I have a couple of stories to finish this month, though.