4

Bend Sinister

The man stood just under six feet tall, his muscular frame hidden by a white Tychem crime scene coverall, his face obscured by a disposable paper mask and plastic goggles. He was ready, there was a strenuous task ahead and he was grateful for the hours he'd spent pumping iron in the gym. As he lifted his burden from the trunk he drew in a deep breath, this was a load he couldn't set down until he reached the tree he'd chosen earlier, a white oak of majestic proportions which would be perfect for his requirements. He stepped out steadily, taking care not to slip on the damp leaves, twenty paces ahead, then another thirty along the trail deeper into the woods, just like he'd counted them earlier. Setting the plastic-wrapped body on the ground he checked the area, all clear, so long as everything went according to his plan he'd be out of here before the rangers did their last check of the evening.

He hurried back to the car and emerged from the shadows, scanned the parking lot and gave a satisfied smile, his was still the only car, he'd chosen this isolated location well, but he would have to finish his task quickly or the rangers would be sure to report an unauthorised vehicle after park closing. He fetched his toolbox from the back seat, hurried back to the body and set to work, moving briskly, efficiently; each time he did this he was getting better. Soon, very soon he'd be ready for his ultimate target. The late spring evening was turning chill as the first drops of the rain that had been threatening all day beat a quiet symphony on the canopy of leaves; the weather didn't bother him, he'd worked in much more difficult conditions and completed his task satisfactorily, almost…He knew exactly what he wanted, in his mind's eye the picture was perfect, he sighed quietly, this was good, but it wasn't right, before he reached his final target he had to get it right, the reality had to match the vision.

It had to be perfect, time wasn't standing still, four weeks; if he hadn't perfected his art by then…he shook his head, he couldn't fail, not when he was so close. When he ended the man who'd set him on this path, the gaping wound inside him would be healed at long last, he'd be able to sleep without the nightmares coming. How would it feel to live without the gnawing need to kill? Would it make him less of a man, or more of one, could he survive without the exultation he felt as he watched them breathe their last, as their eyes lost the last spark of life?

He'd searched so long for a purpose, for some reason to choose life over death; who would have thought it would be the deaths of others that would provide the mission to give his life meaning. For so long his life had been full of pain, of people treating him like he didn't matter, except one…one single shining light in the dark morass of days and nights spent hating, fighting, existing…

He cleared his mind, this was no time for looking back, it was time to concentrate on doing the best work he could. He stepped back to admire his work nodding briefly. "Almost there Robert; when you're home I'll be ready." He would have been happy to sit on the ground and wait for the sunrise, to see the lieutenant in all his sartorial glory, he couldn't do it, this wasn't the time, discovery now would ruin everything, send him back to the dark places…one day, when it wouldn't matter whether he was discovered or not, when his ultimate prey was dead, that day he would watch and wait.

"You look good; one more thing and you're done." He moved closer to his victim, there was a brief flash of burnished metal and a click as he fastened it in place. "Now you're ready for an audience."

He packed everything away, checking three times that there was nothing of him contaminating the scene, he couldn't be caught, not until he was done. When his task was complete it wouldn't matter, he wouldn't care who found him, life in prison, the death penalty, none of it would hold any terrors for him, not after the life he'd led.

It was done, time to leave his work for others to discover; he smiled, oh how he wished he could be here to see their faces when they looked at his work, he could imagine their admiring glances, their words of praise. If he couldn't watch, he could imagine, and the images would fan the embers of the fire burning within him, a fire only to be extinguished when the person who had torn him from the one place he felt safe and had thrown his life into a pit of despair was gone.

NCIS NCIS

Tony checked the printed pages, all there, his report was complete. He put it in the folder with a satisfied smile, another case closed. "So Bishop, you think you can tear Jake away from his new BFF long enough to join us for dinner?"

"He's excited to meet Zoe and Delilah, and I told you, Gibbs isn't his new best friend, they play racquetball on Thursdays; they talk on the phone, they don't have dinner on Saturdays. So long as we don't get a new case we're golden."

Tony stared at her, then at Tim. "Did she just…?"

"Oh yeah." Tim shook his head. "Rule eighteen Bishop."

They could see her mentally ticking off the list of rules. "Eighteen…I thought that was 'It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission.'?"

Tim grabbed a Nutter Butter from his drawer and took it over to Ellie. "Here, feed your brain. We're talking about Tony's rules."

"Wait! Tony has rules too?"

Tony nodded. "Very special rules; number eighteen. 'Never, ever use the words 'so long as we don't get a new case.'" Ellie got the new rule in stereo as Tim echoed Tony's recitation.

With a quiet moan Ellie put her hands to her temples and rubbed gently. "Exactly how many rules do you have Tony, and…" She looks up expectantly. "McGee, tell me, do you...?"

"I do."

"How am I supposed to keep them all straight?"

"Fear not Probette, you'll learn. For now, the important thing is…"

"To do your job." Gibbs had made his appearance using stealth mode as usual. "Grab your gear; dead Navy Lieutenant in Rock Creek Park."