Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or any character therein. Just the idea, which is based on a scene in the novel March Toward the Thunder, by Joseph Bruchac. I recommend it to you readers, if you are interested in historical fiction.
Death of the Coffee
Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS, and his team had just pulled up to a crime scene. Little did they know, it was a fake. There was no body, no victim in the Navy or Marine Corps. Only someone who wanted to make Gibbs pay. Eli David sighted his target carefully, the reticle dancing from one potential target to another. Finally, he came to what was to be the victim of his deadly projectile. He fired one shot, then immediately broke his rifle down and made his escape.
As Gibbs' team checked the area for why they were called out, Gibbs scanned the horizon. His gut was telling him something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Tony DiNozzo finally spoke up.
"Boss, I can't find anything that would require us to be here."
"Nor I." 'David.'
"Yeah, boss, there's nothing here." 'McGee.'
"So the question becomes..."
"Who wanted us here?"
"And why?" Then a shot rings out. The team finds cover behind assorted vehicles. Gibbs now knows why his gut was acting up.
'A trap. It was a d^*# trap.' Gibbs calls out:"Anybody hit?"
Three separate negatives give some relief, then something hits him: He couldn't feel the coffee cup in his hand. He looks down and notices that the cup is not in his hand. He looks around and finally sees the cup, lying woefully on the dirt road, slowly leaking caffeine through the hole about halfway up the container.
"Boss, you hit?"
"No, DiNozzo. But somebody is going to die before this case is through." Tony looks over and sees the coffee cup in the road, bullet hole in the middle, and sighs.
"What kind of a world are we living in when a man can't even drink his coffee in peace without having to worry about snipers shooting it out of his hand?"
"Oh, they're going to pay for this one."
"Ya think, McGee? All three of you, go find that sniper or their perch." Three words are all that need to be spoken.
"On it, Boss."