A/N: figured I'd try my hand at a short story that went through my head. It's a bit darker than my normal but I was assured by a friend it was not bad. Have fun...
NCIS Special Agent Ziva David watched as Timothy Jones headed for the elevator, smirking, with his lawyer in tow. The sick bastard was free and there was not a damn thing they could do about it.
NCIS Supervisory Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs followed a few minutes later with Special Agent Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo right behind him. Both wore identical expressions of frustration and anger. Ziva did not have to guess how the interrogation had gone; she knew. Timothy Jones had hid behind his lawyer, who had loudly proclaimed his client's innocence and the lack of solid evidence against him. Gut instinct and a few coincidental sightings of Timothy and previous victims together did not hold up in a court of law, especially in America.
The truth was Timothy Edward Jones was a predator of the worst kind; he didn't just sexually assault young girls under the age of 12, he broke them physically and mentally. There were six that they knew of. While four had been found in shallow graves, two had survived Timothy Jones' attack, but they had been forced to bury one girl two weeks later when she'd jumped from the roof of her parent's place. The other girl was in a psychiatric hospital where she was likely to remain for the rest of her life. Law enforcement officials were certain there were more but Timothy Jones wasn't talking.
The problem was lack of solid evidence. Try as Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard, Abby Sciuto, and Special Agent Timothy McGee might, they could not find one tiny bit of evidence that solidly connected Timothy Jones to any of his victims.
And he knew it.
And they knew it.
And the Washington PD knew it.
And so did everyone else at NCIS, including Director Leon Vance.
And there was not a damn thing anyone could do about it.
"He's going to take another victim again," McGee said.
"And short of killing him, we can't stop him," Ziva said.
Gibbs didn't even glance at them as he threw the case files on his desk before storming out of the building. The feeling was mutual and understandable.
"Who do we know owes us a mighty big favour?" Tony snarled.
"I can think of a few," McGee said. "But making sure it didn't trace back to us would be a bit difficult."
"At this point I don't care," Tony snarled.
A name flashed through Ziva's mind but she dismissed it as quickly as it had come. "No," she told herself. "I will not call her."
"I can think of a lot of people would just love to nail this guy," Tony continued, obvious to Ziva's silence, "myself included!"
"But then if we do, are we any better than the other guys we hunt?" McGee asked.
"Yes! Because we'd be getting rid of a monster!" Tony shot back.
"How do we do that without becoming a monster ourselves, I wonder?" Ducky asked as he joined them.
"Simple; you call in a hunter," Tony snapped.
"With or without selling a piece of your soul in the process?" McGee asked.
"It would be worth it," Tony snarled.
Pantera... The name whispered through Ziva's mind again. "At what cost?" she asked herself. "Hasn't the price already been paid in blood?" her other voice whispered. "Hasn't it been paid in the souls of all the girls that demon has taken? If not that, then what? Must another little girl die before the price is paid?"
She shivered but resolved to talk to Gibbs that night. Only if he said okay would she make the call.
"There is a contact I would like to call," Ziva said much later that night, after Tony and McGee had gone home for the day.
"So why are you asking me?" Gibbs snapped.
"Because she is not a regular contact. She is a last resort contact," Ziva said. Gibbs impatiently gestured for her to continue. "The local Mexicans call her Pantera."
Gibbs froze. "I've heard of her but I thought she was just another urban legend."
"She's not," Ziva said. "I do not bringing her name up lightly, Gibbs, but we both know Timothy Jones will take another little girl before the week is over and we can't stop him."
"Not legally anyway," Gibbs admitted.
"Pantera is dangerous," said Vance's quiet voice as he joined them. "It's said that once she gets you in her sights, you are dead one way or another. You just don't know when and chances are you won't know how. She also commands a very high price for her services."
"I know," Ziva said. "But I also know the price has been paid."
"Six girls, possibly more," Gibbs said quietly. He would not be forgetting those faces any time soon.
"She may turn on you," Vance warned.
"I am not perfect but unlike some members of society, my soul does not belong to the devil because of my actions, at least not yet," Ziva said.
Both men nodded.
"Rumour has it Pantera is choosy about who she targets," Vance said.
"Again, I know," Ziva said. "And I'm not doing this lightly. I simply don't see any other way of stopping Timothy Jones."
"At this point neither do I," Vance admitted. Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Make the call."
She arrived at the dead of the night at Ziva's place. A tall woman of undeterminable age, her dark brown eyes studied the photos and the information contained in the file.
"His name is Timothy Edward Jones, age twenty-seven, an American citizen by birth," Ziva said. "He has been connected to six girls, all under the age of twelve but no younger than ten. Only one has survived his attack but she is in a mental hospital and word is she will likely be there for the rest of her natural life. There was another survivor but she committed suicide just over two weeks ago."
Pantera didn't say a word, except to keep reading.
"We suspect there may be more victims," Ziva continued, "but these ones are the ones we're sure of."
"Evidence?" Pantera asked. There was no emotion in her voice.
"Only circumstantial, nothing that would hold up in court."
"How long?"
"Over a month. He hides behind a lawyer and we can't touch him. Neither can local authority."
"Are you certain the predator is him?"
"Yes, and he knows that we know that he is, just like he knows we can't do a damn thing to stop him."
"And another child will die before the week is out." It was not a question but a statement of fact.
"Yes," Ziva admitted reluctantly.
"He doesn't just sexually assault them. He plays with them in his own way, one that would be considered more torture than fun," Pantera said, brushing a lock of blue-black hair out of her face. The rest was in a braid down her back. "And he enjoys it."
"That's what our medical examiner says," Ziva said. "He's also very careful."
"Each girl has been bathed in bleach, which destroys DNA, their bodies wrapped in cheap, common plastic garbage bags."
"No prints, no DNA of any type, not even semen," Ziva said. "When he purchases anything, it's always in cash, so no transaction record of any sort. Not even photographs or camera images."
"Surveillance?"
"A water snake in the swamp," Ziva groused.
"It's a game to him," Pantera said.
"Can you stop him?"
"How?"
"I don't care. Just get to him before he gets to another little girl."
"Do you want him to know?"
Ziva had debated with herself long and hard about that. "I want him to know why, for who, but not by who, except in the general sense."
"Proof?"
"Let the buzzards find him but do it soon, before he strikes again."
Pantera didn't say another word, except to pick up one of the surveillance photos and study it with cold eyes. Then, and only then, did she drink the coffee Ziva had placed beside her. Ten minutes later she was gone.
Three days later:
An anonymous tip lead police to the remains of a human adult male in a small grove just off a local road. The body had been dumped sans clothing but with his driver's licence in one hand. When his identity was discovered, like waves in a pond, the news made it back to NCIS and the desk of Special Agent Gibbs.
An envelope was discovered nearby, held in place by a rock. It was a map with coordinates. Gibbs set Tony, Ziva, and McGee on the map while he went back with Ducky and the body to let Vance know a monster was a monster no more.
"He was tortured, Jethro, systematically, slowly, with each cut designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain but not death," Ducky said, examining the badly mutilated body. "This was cold, calculated, and extremely precise. Whoever did this was no amateur."
"Any idea who?"
"Absolutely none and I highly doubt you'll find any evidence at the original crime scene either."
"If we could even find that."
Gibbs' cell rang; it was Tony and he had news.
"The locations on the paper, boss? Not only are they real but we're gonna need everyone we can spare."
"What did you find, DiNozzo?" But Gibbs already had a pretty good idea.
Tony sighed heavily. "A graveyard, boss, a damn big graveyard."
"How many?"
"Four and counting. We need all hands on deck for this one. Radar, dogs, hell, haul out the satellite if you can find one."
"I'll make the calls." He hung up and turned to Ducky, who stared at him understanding.
"I shall do the same," he said.
"And him?" Gibbs asked, jerking his head towards the body.
"No hurry. I doubt we'll be able to answer the 'who' on this one, although I suspect we know the 'why' and most definitely the 'how' and 'when'."
"And the 'where'?"
"Does it matter, Jethro?"
"Not this time, Duck, not this time."
"Then let us put this foul beast away and bring home the children. Mr. Palmer, if you would be so kind?"
"Yes, Doctor," said Ducky's long-time medical examiner assistant. There was work to do and a monster once before was a monster no more.
At Ziva's desk there was a note that simply said, Paid in full a long time ago.
End.