"Any fool can paint a picture, but it takes a wise person to be able to sell it." ~ Samuel Butler

Gravel flies in uneven directions as a massive foot pushes it forward so softly. The crunching sounds of the crushing foot, however, were not able to cover the cacophony of the atmosphere surrounding it. The foot stopped, and the owner lifted it up once more but only to step backward as his pride could no longer allow him to step forward. The man took off his hat as he felt the spitting of the light rain tickle his bald spot. He closed his eyes and sighed. What a tragedy. He opened them once more and gazed at the white woman whose red hair flowed lightly within the wind. The woman was still. Too still, in fact, that it frightened the man even more. He took a gulp and continued to step forward toward the scene. His eyes now became fixed on the woman. She was simply just sitting; her back was straight. She sat in an old rowboat painted black. The boat gleamed of a Viking nature as the man examined its texture with his eyes. Quilted blankets were placed underneath the sitting woman, and hung gently to the side revealing their complex stitching and coloured patterns. A lantern hung from the bow of the boat, its light no longer shining. The man stepped closer as the shadows of the night began to drift away from the woman's face revealing her features and expression. He gasped as he saw her face, almost tripping over his other foot as he stumbled backwards. The woman sat there, face that was carved with a knife to show a frown and her eyebrows drawn with blood to show her sadness.

"Is she….?" Stuttered a voice of a woman who stood behind the man. The man nodded.

"Yes, she is."

"What would you have me do?" the woman asked.

"Your job," the man said cruelly as he regained his balance.

Another man dressed tall in a dark blue suit with a light blue tie approached him from behind. He held a black umbrella up quite delicately. Unlike the man in front of him, his hands were steady. His umbrella did not shake, nor did his skin shiver from the sight. The man in front of him looked slightly behind him and recognized the man with the umbrella instantly.

"She was supposed to be under my protection," he said to the man with the umbrella.

"You couldn't have prevented this, Fornell-"

"BUT I SHOULD HAVE!" the man named Fornell shouted. "She was receiving notes and messages from the killer…It was like he knew her… but she didn't know him… she was staying with me at my house, Lawrence. MY HOUSE! THERE WAS NO SIGN OF A BREAK IN! THE DOOR WAS LOCKED! THERE WERE CAMERAS ON EVERY FLOOR OF MY HOUSE! YET SHE DISAPEARED OUT OF…FUCKING NO WHERE!"

"Agent Fornell!" the man with the umbrella named Lawrence exclaimed. "We will find out who did this to her, and we will find out how."

Fornell finally turned to face Lawrence, his cheeks red as fire and his eyes burning with anger.

"I think we may need some help from another agency. We could not solve this one even when Marie was alive, but now she's dressed up and her corpse is put on display! If this killer slipped past us, and not you but ALL of us…we may need to re-think our methods," Lawrence suggested.

Fornell nodded rapidly. "Excuse me, I have to find a bucket to puke in."

Fornell left the scene while Lawrence stood there starring at the display that was in front of him. "Agent Jones!" Lawrence called out. The woman who knelt beside the boat taking pictures stopped immediately. She got up and walked towards Lawrence as the rain began to fall a tad bit harder.

"Yes, Agent Lawrence?"

"What does it mean?" he asked as he pointed to the victim.

"I think it might be a replica of a famous painting."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well I was at the art gallery with my kids two days ago for a school field trip, sir, and this….reminds me of one of the paintings I saw."

"Find out which painting it is and find out if there is any symbolism or hidden messages associated with this painting."

"Yes, sir."

-x-

"Gibbs!" Vance the director of NCIS called out from the top of the stairs to the bullpen that lay below. The man named Gibbs nodded and ran up the stairs quickly and joined the director in his office. The director walked around the discussion table that stood in the middle of his office. He was silent for a few seconds but saw the look of impatience on Gibbs' face.

"I just received some news from Agent Lawrence and Agent Fornell of the FBI in regards of one of their agents, Agent Marie Collins. She was murdered by a killer who displayed her body in replica of a famous painting called Lady of Shallott by Waterhouse. This killer was sending messages to Marie before she was killed," Vance explained as he picked up the remote from his desk and clicked it to show the pictures of the messages Marie received on the TV screen across from them. "She showed Fornell the messages and they immediately had agents with her 24/7 everywhere she went, even the bathroom, she was not left alone. She stayed at Fornell's house with other agents and they even had video cameras. Here is the last footage of her before she disappeared."

A video appeared on the screen showing a light small guest room, with Marie just sleeping like a normal human being. After a few seconds the footage blinked like an eye and she was gone.

"Gone, Gibbs. Just like that. She was then found last night looking like this." Vance then showed the crime scene photos. Gibbs looked away for a split second finding the pictures horrendous.

"I've seen things in my life, but not like this," Gibbs admitted.

"They need our help Gibbs."

"And why aren't they here telling me that?"

"Because they haven't slept all night, especially Fornell, so I volunteered to break it down for you instead of having them come in when they can use the time they have to mourn and catch the killer. She was one of their best agents, Gibbs. Most of their team is too emotionally damaged to continue working. So Agent Lawrence asked me if NCIS could pitch in a little, and I gladly volunteered you and your team Gibbs," Vance said as he sat down at his desk. "I sent you an email with all this information in it so you can share it with your team, but you will have co-operate with Fornell and Lawrence for this case."

Gibbs nodded and left the room without a word.

The bullpen was quite as Gibbs team tried to take in what had happened to Agent Marie Collins.

"Well…shit…" Tony exclaimed as he placed his hands behind his head and leaned back on his chair.

"They gave us some evidence that was sent down to Abby, including the video camera that filmed her spontaneous disappearance. McGee, I want you to go down to Abby and help her with that. Tony you will go with me to the FBI and help with the crime scene and whatever they've got for us and Bishop I want you to stay here and see if you can trace those messages that Marie received and see if there is anyone she knows that has some connection to this." The team members all responded with 'yes, boss'. Tony got up from his leaning chair and picked up the gear bag that lay next to his desk. He walked quickly beside his boss trying to remain by his side but Gibbs was too quick. Gibbs was the first in the elevator and Tony had to push the doors to prevent them from closing on him.