Said The Spider To The Fly
The aftermath of an attack on Special Agent Timothy McGee. Admiral McGee is faced with a vengeful boss who acts more like a father.
Warnings: this deals with sensitive topics such graphic and domestic violence which can sometimes be triggering.
He watched, his back tense and straight, for a while his face as stoic as ever. His sharp eyes did not once remove themselves from the imposing figure that was reflected upon the other side of the interrogation room mirror.
He wanted the man to stew, make him think what could be happening and just who would be interrogating him and just what thy would be like.
He watched, sniper-sharp and calculating, as the Admiral wrung his hands his thumbs twiddling as his Irish green gaze tossed around the room, taking in the red glare from the recording camera to the steel chair that was deliberately sat straight in front of the two way mirror that the agent was currently stood behind.
The only things in the room besides the Admiral was two steel chairs and a steel table.
It was clinically clean, stark and impersonally and it bought home just how much trouble this Admiral may just be.
In observation, the agent closed his eyes for a moment listening as the Navy Personnel sighed insufferably for a moment, his crisply ironed uniform rustling as he shifted into an obviously more comfortable position before the agent straightened his spine, doused the last of his coffee - his grimace was the only indication of the fact that it had gone cold - before he tightened his grasp on the thick case file he had grasped in his hands.
He was going to enjoy this. He was going to enjoy this, dearly.
Throwing the door of the observation room open, his steps were heavy and full of suspicion and apprehension as he approached the stainless door of interrogation room one.
He threw the door wide, making it clank dully against the wall before the agent strode in, cool calm and collected and with a glacial glare upon his face as the Admiral stared up at him blankly, his Irish gaze just as cold as the agents.
No words were exchanged as the Admiral tracked the interrogators movements with his eyes, his neat uniform rustling as he turned to keep the man in his sights. Dispassionately, the Navy Personnel watched as the agent took his seat in the chair just in front of the rooms two way mirror.
Behind it, Leon Vance watched soberly.
"Admiral McGee," the agent started clinically, voice and eyes impartial as he stared as the admiral with callous eyes.
"Yes?" Admiral Victor Douglas McGee the third stated roughly, straight backed and at attention despite sitting down in what had to be a very uncomfortable chair.
"Father, son, grandson, nephew, uncle- need I go on?" Though it was spoken through question, both Admiral McGee and Director Vance knew it too be rhetorical.
"You tell me," the answer was just as subjective as its question.
The agent in question merely raised an eyebrow at the brusque statement to his rhetorical question.
"Your son, Timothy McGee, correct?" The agent questioned, voice suddenly smooth like silk and Admiral McGee got the feeling that he was being scrutinised as well as judge by those glacial blue eyes that seared through him like the ships he worked on ripped through the ocean. He merely nodded.
"Answer the question Admiral!" The agent raise his voice for the first time of ending the room, one fist slammed on the table startling Admiral McGee fiercely.
"Yes, he is my only son," he said after a moment.
The agent did the unexpected and smirked widely. "You son, Timothy McGee, is a Special Agent on NCIS's MCRTeam. Do you know what that is Admiral?"
Admiral McGee shook his head briefly, the movement truculent.
"It is our Major Case Response Team and your son is an invaluable asset to this team, he has helped them solve thousands of crimes, killers, rapists, launderers, frauds even that one cannibal," the agents lip lifted slightly when he saw the Admiral go slightly green at his clinical words. "But that is not why Special Agent McGee is currently in a hospital bed in Bethesda, drugged to the gills in a medical coma after having suffered major duress and injures, is it Admiral McGee?"
Again, the Admiral only shook his head.
"Do you know why, he is where he is Admiral?" The words had become heated slightly, more breviloquent and calculating the longer the Admiral stayed quiet and refused to answer his questions.
"Answer me!" Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs roared, his hands slamming on the steel table.
To his credit, the Admiral only let out one barely perceivable flinch. The Director had to admire his guts, there had been many times that Director Leon Vance had stepped down or aside for Agent Gibbs when the infamous temper was brought out. Gibbs was a fearsome man with a leading reputation that made a lot of people think about second guessing him, making him a strong but sometimes inadmissible lead agent.
"No," was the only syllable uttered from the personnel sat in front of him.
Silence reigned for a moment as Gibbs busied himself with the case file he had slammed onto the steel table when he had first entered the interrogation room. With sharp movements he began to lay out a series of photographs that made the Admiral recoil.
His sons face, sallow and pale and hollow, stared up at him from the photographed. It was bruised and pale and grey even as the tube taped to his mouth helped him breath. Black stitches, numerous and start against the pale skin, pockmarked his sons face in a way that the Admiral had never seen before.
Gibbs laughed grimly, harsh and loud in a way that grated in even Vances ears before he makes another photo to Victor McGee.
A stark bruise, dark and throbbing and horrific, travels from left temple where a clear imprint of a set of practical men's loafers is cleanly screen before it tempers off at the mans chin, blood from Timothy McGees split lip strange and foreign against his stained skin.
Another picture was tossed towards him and Admiral McGee recoiled violently.
It's a picture of Timothy McGee torso, distorted and vaguely misshapen, none could miss the imprint of belts and electrical plugs and a practical loafer imprint against the pale skin even as the pale white of a broken rib fractures the skin, the position around it lumpy and out of place.
Another.
This is another one of his torso, but on his back which is still just as misshapen and bruised and broken and distorted and even the Admiral can see the damage that had been inflicted on his sons back with what seemed to be an electrical plug. A large shoe print, approximately size thirteen, was centred in the middle of Timothys back, and the darkness of the bruise showed just how much pressure had been out upon it.
"Special Agent McGee is suffering from a series of wounds which we believed to be inflicted by someone he knew, he wasn't subdued firstly he had been face to face with his attacker evident by the mark of him being pistol-whipped across the face which by the degree of bruising happened first," Gibbs had gone cold, callous, colloquial and the Admiral felt a shiver travel down his spine as the ex-Marine stared down at him.
"Surveillance cameras that he had installed on his apartment showed that he was the repeatedly punched, kicked and belted as he lay helpless on the floor, he was kicked in the head approximately four times resulting in him blacking out only to be revived from a tub of smelling salts-"
He pointed to an evidence bag that he had bought in with him, diverting Admiral McGees attention to the smelling salts.
The mans face fell. His own personal stamp was embedded on the cap of them, darn Annali for placing the sign upon them. This was all his wife's fault.
"-where he was then dragged into the middle of the room after his coffee table had been kicked out of the way. Timothy McGee was then subjected to a series of degrading taunts and lectures which being beaten repeatedly, unable to move and think of even grasp his gun which had been removed from his persons when Timothy had entered his apartment door, locked away in a safe that had been provided by his agency, NCIS. His phone, whilst switched on, had been abandoned by both attacker and victim and Timothy did not even think of trying to reach his phone too disorientated to the repeated kicks to his head which may have caused significant amounts of brain damage, resulting in the loss of either minor or major function loss."
The Admiral had gone green and even swaying slightly where he sat as Gibbs carried on, enraged but trying to hide it as he laid out the evidence that would have his agents dead-beat father imprisoned.
The kid deserved justice.
"This could also be further complicated by the fact that he was found with electrical wire wrapped tightly around his neck, depriving him of oxygen for minutes as he tried to unwrap the white wire despite all his attempts bring futile,"
Another glossy photo was launched at him by an angry agent and even through it was his own handy work, even Victor McGee couldn't stop the bile rising in his throat as he was faced with a stark, clinical photo of his sons throat, swollen and discoloured with the slim, twisting imprint of what could only be a wire where it had been wrapped around his neck. next to it, was the bloodied wire Victor recognised. He had grasped it and wrapped it mercilessly around his own sons throat when Timothy had begun fighting back.
But even that hadn't kept the miserable fucker down, not even a vicious kick to the head ahead only temporarily kept him down.
"You were interrupted by a knock on the door, and before you went to answer it you kicked Timothy in the he'd because you didn't want him calling out-" Gibbs voice cracked almost inaudibly as he stated the cold, hard facts. "-Senior Special Field Agent Antony DiNozzo was at the door, behind him Probationary Agent Ziva David,"
Taking a deep breath, Gibbs continued, his cold eyes still fixated on a quiet and green Admiral that was staring down at his hands, blood still staining them.
"Probationary Agent David had been suspicious when you answered the door, knowing that you and son had a very strained relationship whilst Special Agent DiNozzo thought nothing of it, but the kick to Special Agent McGees had had done more harmed then good, correct?" Gibbs did not wait for his agents father to answer.
"With reasonable suspicion, Probationary Agent David, unholstered her gun and stated who she worked for and who she was. Special Agent DiNozzo following her lead unquestionably. You then attempted to flee, forcing Special Agent DiNozzo to give chase whilst Probationary Agent David stayed behind to care for her injured co-worker-"
"I won't say anything until I have my lawyer present," Admiral McGee interred for the first time. Gibbs gave a wolfish smirk that made the Admiral shiver in his immaculately pressed suit.
"You forget Admiral you've already had your official interview. This is merely...compensation for a son,"
Gibbs smirked at the Admirals suddenly pasty face.