The House of Builders and Machines: Bishops Are Simply Pawns in This Game of Chess
Location: Eleanor Bishop's House
Time: 11:30 p.m.
Location: Washington D.C.
"Hello Mrs. Bishop."
"It's Miss Bishop," Ellie corrected.
"Oh, my apologizes," the caller said, "how are you?"
"I'm fine," she said, "if you don't mind me asking, who you are?"
"Not at all Ms. Bishop," the caller replied, "my name is Christopher Luther Lyons. I'm calling to bring to your attention that your colleagues are, much to their misfortune, dead."
"Yeah," Ellie said, "so I hear. Why are you calling again?"
"To make sure that you're safe is all, don't want that murderer coming in and well, doing you in now would we?" Christopher said with a mischievous laugh.
"Thanks I guess," Ellie said, "well, it's getting late, good night." She hung up the phone.
Eleanor Bishop, who preferred to be called Ellie, stood in her bedroom. It was a basic, large master with beautiful, soft, beige carpets, a queen-sized bed with white bedclothes, a lamp on a nightstand beside it with a master suite off to the left of the room next to a large walk-in closet. Ellie was in her white nightgown, her blonde hair laying naturally on the pillow as she turned off the light and slowly but surely fell to sleep.
As she slept, she dreamt about her colleagues. The last time she saw Gibbs was six days ago. It was a Monday.
Gibbs walked in with a smile on his face and a cup of black coffee in his hand. As usual, there was something coming up on the screen. McGee was diligently working. DiNozzo was diligently not working, when the phone on Ellie's desk rang.
On the third ring, Bishop answered. "NCIS, Eleanor Bishop speaking." She said, like she always did.
"Eleanor, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Charles Teller Monroe and I-"
"Do you always introduce yourself with your full name Charles?" Eleanor asked a bit annoyed at the caller's introduction.
Charles sighed, "Yes Madame Bishop, it is unfortunately a well-rooted habit. May I continue?"
"Sure." Eleanor answered, a bit flattered that Charles referred to her as Madame, making her feel like a bourgeoisie.
"The reason I'm calling," Charles said, "is because there's been a slew of misfortunes regarding the United States Navy, I'm sure you're aware of it."
"No sir, there's nothing wrong here." Ellie said rather loudly for everyone to hear. She pulled the phone away from her ear and put the phone on speaker intentionally.
"Well," Charles said, "let me inform you of them my little cherubs. That's right, I know you put the phone on speaker."
"Who are you, you little freak?" Tony asked loudly.
Charles laughed. "Mr. DiNozzo!" He yelled as if he were annoyed, "I believe I was talking to Eleanor, stay out of the conversation before I forcefully remove your entrails!"
Tony nodded, "Alright Genghis."
"Amusing reference," Charles replied, "now be quiet Mr. Tony. Now Eleanor, back to you, at the present moment, there is a military projectile heading your direction. That projectile very specifically is a-"
"Drone." Gibbs said, finishing Charles' sentence.
"Well someone is being rather precocious this morning," Charles said with a hint of sarcasm, "good for you Leroy, I'll be sure to remember that later. Now Mrs. Bishop-"
"It's Ms. Bishop," Ellie corrected.
"Oh, my apologizes." Charles said this as if he were speaking to royalty, bowing low the ground as if pleading for mercy or forgiveness. "If you don't want you and your friends to be blown to Kingdom Come then I suggest you do one simple thing-"
"What's that?" Ellie asked.
The phone disconnected.
"Hello?" Ellie said, the dial tone. She hung the phone up.
"What happened?" Gibbs asked.
"The phone disconnected." She said.
"What'd he say?" Tony asked.
Ellie looked at him, "He wants me to do something."
"Don't do it," Tim said, "it's most likely a trap."
Ellie looked at McGee, "No shit Admiral Ackbar."
Tony smiled, "I'm surprised you got that reference."
"Tony," Ellie said, "I'm a data analyst and everyone who has been on Planet Earth for the last forty years is familiar with that phrase so really, it shouldn't be a surprise."
"Well, I just thought that-" Tony started to say before Ellie cut him off.
"That just because I'm the 'new girl' that I wouldn't get your corny references? I've read the script you know."
"Script?" Tony asked a bit confused.
"The script that you had to read in order for this to-" Ellie stopped herself and rolled her eyes, "never mind." She turned to Gibbs, "What should I do Gibbs?"
"You're asking me?" Gibbs said.
Ellie nodded. "Yeah, this guy named Charles T. Monroe calls me and says that if I don't do something then this whole building is going to blow to pieces."
"Well," Gibbs said, "what do you think you should do?"
Ellie's cell phone rang. She looked at it, an unknown number. Gibbs nodded, allowing her to answer. She did.
"Hello?" She said.
Heavy breathing, like the beginning of Scream.
"Is this Eleanor Bishop?" A female voice said.
"Yes, may I ask who's calling?"
"Martha Farrow."
Ellie put the phone down and took a deep breath.
"Was it him?" Tony asked.
"No," Ellie said, "it's the President's kid."
"President as in the President of the United States?" McGee asked.
Ellie nodded.
"Hello, are you there?" Martha asked.
Ellie put the phone up to her ear again, "Yes, I'm here," she said sweetly, for Martha was only eight years old, "is there something I can help you with?"
"Y-y-yes," Martha said fearfully, "you need to get me out of here, I'm scared."
"Okay," Ellie said calmly, "can you tell me where you are?"
Martha nodded, despite the fact that Ellie couldn't see her. "In the autopsy room, whatever that is." A pause, "Ow, you're hurting me!"
"Martha, is there anyone in the room with you?" Ellie asked with great concern.
A fumbling of a phone, as if someone where passing it over to somebody else. "Ms. Bishop."
Ellie rolled her eyes and immediately stood up, searching for her Heckler & Koch HK45, a semi-automatic Naval Warfare pistol. This promoted Tony to move for his own weapon, a Kimber Custom TLE II (LG) with laser sights that he kept as a keepsake from his Homicide Detective Baltimore PD days.
"What do you want?" Ellie asked.
"You have two minutes." Charles said. "Tick, tock, tick, tock." He hung up.
Quickly and without question, Ellie moved towards the staircase, Tony followed. "Where are we going!?" Tony asked.
"Autopsy!" Ellie said as she quickly ran down the stairs, charging like a crazed bull.
Tony simply jumped down, skipping the stairs all together and landed a bit awkward on the landing, nonetheless he was fine and repeated the same process.
They ran down the dark hospital like hallway, their shoes making an annoying clatter. Ducky hadn't come in to work yet. The vending machine on that floor was a hurricane, the fluorescent light above it flickered as if to warn the two agents of the situations. But they were inanimate objects and had little effect on the outcome. The water cooler in the same room of the vending machine and flickering light had a small leak in it and was slowly dripping water that made a peaceful contact with the floor. Drip. Droop. Drip.
Emily and Tony entered the room, weapons drawn and instinctively ready to kill.
Inside the autopsy room Christopher and his featureless face along with two other men in suits and sunglasses with a dangerously dark tint, making it impossible to see their eyes stood. These men in the suits looked like prison guards, unmoving, ruthless, and loyal to the law above them, who stood with a gun up against Martha's head.
"Well, well," Christopher said, "isn't this an appropriate place to do a killing?"
"How did you get in here?" Tony asked, knowing of the strict security measures.
The two men standing next to him spoke simultaneously: "He has the correct credentials Mister DiNozzo."
Martha looked at Tony and Ellie, tears ran down her face. "Please help me." She said.
"Don't worry," Ellie said calmly, "everything is going to be fine okay?" She looked at Christopher and raised her weapon.
"Drop your weapons and let her go." She said.
Tony rolled his eyes. "For god sakes this isn't the movies." He said and shot the two guards point plank. He aimed his weapon at Christopher who slowly began to press the trigger.
"Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock." Christopher said. His finger was getting sweaty, his eye sockets were daring one of them to shoot him.
The lights flickered and went out. A shot was fired. Tony fired his weapon followed by Ellie. The sound of a body hitting the floor. The lights returned. Martha was on the floor, her body in an "L" shape and a single little written hauntingly in blood. The letter H. Martha's eyes were peaceful, her face scared and horrified as the bullet hole destroyed and infected her brain with toxin, lead, poison and etceteras. She wanted to be a doctor when she grew up. She wanted to have a nice house with a loving caring husband, two kids, a golden retriever named Sparky, a mailbox with her last name on it. But Christopher denied her that dream.
The appropriate place to do a killing...
Ellie stirred in her bed, as she was drifting into REM sleep, a figure entered the room. He was made from darkness, clothed in it, and wielded it in his hand. He raised a pistol, a Beretta M9, and shot Ellie in the face, torso and legs and placed the gun in the hallway, in which her son, and visiting father lay dead.
The figured exited saying to no one but himself: "Thank you for giving me control of the Navy Miss Bishop. You were excellent and played your part beautifully." He walked out the back door.
In three weeks time, Christopher Lloyd Lyons would create the World's Genocide, the ultimate eradication of the human race and the ultimate control of those who submitted to him. He did this all in three weeks thanks to his vicious assault on NCIS, there was no one to investigate criminal crimes involving the Navy and the FBI was too busy to notice. So Christopher, with his apparatuses and power, seized the navy and controlled the shipping lanes, the trade of the world, and thus, to prevent World War III, the leaders submitted blindly to him. History foolishly repeats itself every century or so. This time there would be no Marshall Plan, no Eisenhower, no D-Day to stop the threat of evil. Instead there was nothing. Evil had won the war, and Christopher had played the ultimate game of chess.
As stay at home mothers caressed their infants on porch swings, in a quiet neighborhood of Washington D.C., the capital city of the United States, a forsaken house lay on the end of the street.
A forsaken house- a house of a builder and his devious machines.