Disclaimer: Don't own anything to do with NCIS, or any of the films/books mentioned or used. I'm not making any profit, and this story is written purely for its limited entertainment value.
This is probably going to be a long one, folks. And sorry for this first chapter being so choppy, only I needed to get straight into the story. The others will be a little mellower.
The team shivered as they exited the truck, shuddering as the icy winter wind snaked rapidly through their clothing, and across every millimetre of exposed skin.
They were on a normal suburban street, surrounded by elegantly manicured lawns, and startlingly white fences. The road was even complete with twitchy curtains, as the curious inhabitants tried to determine just why one of the houses had been sealed off with police tape.
Kate noticed the attention.
"I take it he wasn't found by the neighbours," she said to Gibbs, nodding towards the nearest window, behind which stood an old woman, who scurried away hurriedly at Kate's gesture.
Gibbs nodded. "It was a friend of the victim. She'd just flown over from Australia, on a delayed flight. Arrived about 0200 hours, and when she didn't get any answer at the door, broke in and found him. Called the police who called us…eventually." He stressed the word ever so slightly. One of the banes of his existence was the reluctance of local police to hand over crimes with Navy involvement to NCIS. It was a sort of 'finders, keepers' mentality that annoyed him intensely.
They flashed their badges at the cop before them, and ducked under the tape. Looking horribly at odds with the surroundings, they entered the house through the front porch. They emerged straight into the living room, where the victim had been found.
"Well, I haven't seen that before," remarked Tony.
The victim, who was dressed ready for bed, was stretched on the floor in an elongated cross shape, his torso and legs lying completely straight, his arms spread out on either side, at perfect right angles to his body. His throat had been neatly slit.
"Kate?" said Gibbs.
Kate tore her gaze away from the body, and tried to stop thinking how much it reminded her of a crucifix.
"Well," she said, "The marks on his wrists and ankles tell us that he was definitely held down when this was done."
"McGee?" he asked next.
"He's got a black eye, and one side of the sofa has been moved very recently," he pointed at the tell-tale indentation in the carpet. "Suggests a struggle."
"Tony?"
"Great," grumbled Tony, "Leave me with the most obvious. It's execution style; definitely planned."
Gibbs nodded. "Okay, I want you on photos," he said to Tony. "And you two," this time he was speaking to Kate and McGee, "Have a look around."
They nodded.
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"Gibbs!" yelled Kate, "I've found something!"
Gibbs emerged from the front yard, carrying a cup of fresh coffee. Just where he had acquired it from, no one asked. They had all, in their most bored moments, mused that he must pluck them from thin air, after all.
"What have you got?"
"Well, it's not much, but he was due to meet some one today." Gibbs didn't speak, and she took it as her cue to continue. "I found a note by the phone, saying, 'Max, 11am, Rushes Hotel'."
"I presume it was written by the victim?"
"It matches the handwriting in his address book."
He looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty. "When we're done here, McGee and I will go back to HQ, you and Tony go to the hotel, and see if 'Max' is any help."
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"I love the way Gibbs gets to go back to work, and we have to freeze to death running errands," moaned Tony.
"I wouldn't call it an errand," said Kate, shivering.
Tony surveyed the scene. The hotel was of an average kind of size, unremarkable in every way. It seemed to scream, 'suspicious rendezvous!' at you. Ice coated everything in sight. Even the covering of the swimming pool next to the building was laced with frost.
"What would you call it then, Kate?" he asked. "I mean, what do you exactly expect to come of it?"
"DiNozzo, my best friend's seven-year-old moans less than you. Shut up!"
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"I'm Agent DiNozzo, NCIS," purred Tony, to the blonde receptionist in the lobby of the hotel. "And this is Agent Todd," he jerked his head in Kate's direction, who rolled her eyes. "We're looking for someone named Max."
"I could do with a little more information than that, Agent DiNozzo," said the receptionist, icily.
Kate smirked, and took over.
"Petty officer Andrew Staunton was supposed to meet someone named Max here, at eleven. He was found dead, earlier this morning. Unfortunately, that's all the information we have."
The receptionist's eyes lit up slightly. "Ah, I know who you mean. A 'Max Drayton' booked a room yesterday morning for today. I'll just see whether he's checked in yet." She typed something into the computer, and after a couple of seconds looked back up at Kate. "He checked in about an hour ago – a couple of minutes before I started my shift, actually. Do you want the room number?"
"Yes please."
"Room 17, it's on the second floor. You'll have to take the stairs though; we're having some trouble with the elevators."
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"So, room 17 would be…that one," said Kate.
It was in fact the room that a man in a heavy black coat ran out of, towards the stairs. Without thinking, Kate and Tony raced after him. They took no more than five or ten seconds to reach the third floor. The only thing to greet them was a sign that read, Floor closed for health and safety reasons.
"Where did he go?" asked Tony.
Kate shrugged.
The next minute seemed to go in slow motion. The door leading to the staircase opened only wide enough for a hand to sneak through. A hand that threw a grenade into the corridor. They heard a key turn in the lock.
Kate had to admire Tony's lack of hesitation. He swung around immediately, and punched the fire alarm. Then over the din of bells and sprinklers, he asked, "Have you ever seen 'The Long Kiss Goodnight'?"
"What?! No! What…?"
But she didn't get a chance to complete her sentence, because Tony grabbed her wrist, and dragged her towards the window at the end of the hall.
"Tony, we're three floors…"
Once again, her words were snatched away, but this time it was because he had pumped three bullets into the window, which shattered, and was now pulling her out of it.
With an enormous splash, they landed on the cover of the swimming pool, and immediately sank into the rank green sludge.
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"Was anyone killed?" asked Gibbs, to the cop on duty.
"No – nothing more than a few fairly minor injuries. Thankfully, the hotel was almost empty, and a lot of people managed to escape the building when your agents sounded the fire alarm."
"Speaking of my agents, where are they?"
The cop pointed.
Kate and Tony were wrapped in blankets, being examined by paramedics. They were also covered in five-month-old swimming pool water.
"You two stink," said Gibbs, frank as ever.
"Thanks, boss," said Tony.
"Why didn't you call?" he asked.
In almost perfect unison, Kate and Tony retrieved their sopping wet, slimy cell phones from their pockets.
Okay, thanks for reading, and it would mean a hell of a lot to me of you'd take a couple of seconds to review. It brightens my day.
Oh, and the movie reference – 'The Long Kiss Goodnight' has Gina Davis and Samuel L. Jackson in it. They escape in pretty much the same way as Kate and Tony, except it's a lake with thin ice, not a swimming pool. The movie thing is very relevant in later chapters.