Washington, D.C.
Not a power tool was to be found in Leroy Jethro Gibbs' basement, and although his age disqualified him from working as an NCIS Special Agent, it didn't disqualify him from building a solid, seaworthy boat.
In his basement.
He would have lots of time to work on his boats, take them out of the basement (a trick he had still kept to himself) and put them on the water somewhere. In fact, this boat was almost seaworthy. He had just one other thing to do to do.
He took his paintbrush, dipped it in the black paint can, and began to fill in the letters:
Kate.
His upbringing, and Marine training, didn't lend itself to shedding tears, even in private. Through all the people he'd lost over the years, including Kate Todd, his wife Shannon, his daughter Kelly, and dozens of others, Gibbs stoically endured.
As he once told Kate's sister Rachel Cranston, you don't forget. You just move on.
He never quite had moved on from Kate, though. And, as he filled in the top part of the letter 'e' on the mast, Gibbs thought of the Major Case Response Team's new Special Agent in Charge.
Wonder if DiNozzo will find his own Kate. Wonder if his team will be as loyal to him as mine was to me.
Air Force One
Louisville, Kentucky
More than a dozen FBI and Secret Service agents stood above the body of the Navy Commander laying in the aisle, less than ten feet from the entrance to the plane. With the President no longer on board, the lead agents for both agencies were arguing over jurisdiction, with the Metro Louisville Coroner arguing the body belonged to her since the death occurred at Louisville International Airport.
Almost unnoticed were the three men who walked onto the plane. While the feds argued, they quietly began their examination of Navy Commander Louise Little, barely acknowledging that those on board had abruptly shut up.
"Excuse me," said Secret Service agent Erin Lindsay. "What do you think you're doing?"
Metro Louisville Coroner Melody Hawkins saw one of the men, recognized him, and moved over to Lindsay and the others. "Oh them. That's me," Hawkins said, glancing at the bespectacled, thin man kneeling over Cmdr. Little. "Jimmy. Glad you and your assistants made it."
The other two men looked at Jimmy, who smiled and nodded. "Sorry, ma'am. The trip was a little longer than we anticipated. Traffic...that reminds me of a story. Years ago, on a family vacation-"
The eldest of the other men cleared his throat, loudly, signaling to Jimmy to cut his story short. "Sorry, ma'am," Jimmy said, as Hawkins looked at the body one last time, and Lindsay looked on impatiently, arms crossed.
"I'm declaring this a crime scene," Hawkins said. "Everybody who doesn't belong here. Off the plane. Now!"
The lead FBI agent began to protest, but Lindsay pulled out her badge and thrust it in his face. "I'm Secret Service. I have jurisdiction here. You don't."
Mike Warren decided against staying, figuring he could at least give the local coroner and her team time to look at the body. Although, he wondered why she needed that many people, and why they were doing all the work-
"Off the plane, Agent Warren," Lindsay insisted.
"Only long enough for the coroner to do her job," Warren said, glancing at one of the men who looked very familiar to him. He then noticed Hawkins waiting, hands on her hips, then putting out her arm and pointing to her smartwatch.
Warren got the message, and ordered his men and women to follow him off.
Once the FBI agents left the plane, Lindsay went to the press area; once she was out of sight, Hawkins took her cue to leave. "I forgot something in my car," she said. "Good luck."
Seeing Hawkins make her way down the stairs, NCIS Special Agent in Charge Tony DiNozzo turned to the other two men.
"Paul. Get to the cockpit, show the pilot your credentials, tell him to get the hell out of here," DiNozzo said to his Senior Agent, Paul Briggs. Then Tony turned to the NCIS Senior Medical Examiner, James Palmer. "Jimmy. Got any ideas on how the Commander died?"
As DiNozzo and Palmer discussed the potential causes of death, Lindsay stormed back and pulled out her gun.
"Stand up, hands against the wall," said Lindsay, a former Chicago undercover detective whose bullshit detector was going haywire. She pointed her handgun at both men, expecting them to either comply or jump her; she'd shoot first, ask questions later. With her other hand, she pulled out her walkie. "Captain, lock your door-"
DiNozzo held his hands up. "We're NCIS."
"Hands UP!" she repeated as two of her fellow Secret Service agents - Kim Burgess, Adam Ruzek - rushed down the aisle to her position. "Burgess, Ruzek, cuff 'em-"
"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," DiNozzo said, swiftly reaching for his badge. "We're from Washington. Director Lange sent us to investigate the Commander's death. Because the victim is Navy, NCIS investigates. Because her death was on Air Force One, my team does the investigating."
"And the autopsy," Palmer added, showing her his NCIS M.E. identification.
Lindsay looked back and forth between both men. "NCIS...investigation...autopsy...you're not with the Louisville coroner-"
"She's a colleague, but no, I don't work for Mrs. Hawkins," Palmer replied. "Neither does Agent DiNozzo."
Lindsay looked around, realizing there was another man with them. "That other guy better be with you two-"
"He's my senior agent," DiNozzo interjected. "Paul Briggs. I sent him upstairs. To tell the pilot to go."
Briggs made his way down the stairs from the cockpit, only to be met by Lindsay and her gun.
"Bossman. I think the Secret Service chick just made us," Briggs remarked, after seeing the barrel of Lindsay's handgun pointed at him, and noticing the other two Secret Service agents pointing their weapons at Tony and Jimmy. "And has us at the disadvantage."
"Briggs. Did you tell the pilot to go? I don't feel the plane moving," DiNozzo replied.
"Sorry. Door was locked when I got there. Thought he and the co-pilot were just shy," Briggs cracked.
Lindsay walked closer to Briggs, as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs. "Badge," she said, and he pulled out his NCIS credentials. "You remind me of Charlie," Briggs said, smiling, as she ordered Burgess and Ruzek to stand down while putting her pistol in its holster. "Same no-crap attitude. Blow your head off if you-"
"How do you know I won't?" Lindsay said slowly.
"She's got balls, bossman," Briggs said to DiNozzo. "If Charlie were down on that tarmac, I could talk her into backing down."
"Who is that guy?" DiNozzo said to Briggs, both ignoring Lindsay, to her chagrin.
"The FBI guy I worked with from the house," Briggs replied. "Once upon a time, he had so much potential. Now he's a Grade-A G-Man, the Fornell of the Broadband Age-"
Lindsay placed herself between both men. "I don't know what in hell you're talking about. But if anyone has the authority to have this plane leave, it's me," she said, emphatically. "As the ranking Secret Service agent on board, this plane is MINE."
Tony turned his attention directly to Lindsay.
"And that victim is MINE," he said to her. "But unless we leave NOW, the FBI is going to commandeer - or try - our victim, this plane, and block both of our agencies completely out of this case."
"You don't go anywhere without my permission," Lindsay shot back. "Neither does the victim."
"Then Warren and his merry band of G-Men, once they figure out we're not the local coroner's assistants, will get their asses up here and boot us all off," Briggs said.
Lindsay looked to the side, then at her junior agents, then at DiNozzo. "What do you propose."
"Joint case," DiNozzo said. "We work together."
Lindsay walked to the open door, and noticed Warren and his fellow agents heading towards the stairs to the plane.
"I just spent 40 minutes arguing in circles with that jackass," Lindsay said of Warren. "You're willing to work together?"
DiNozzo stuck out his hand. Lindsay shook it.
"Briggs," DiNozzo nodded, as his senior agent went to the hatch, seconds ahead of the FBI agents running up the stairs.
Warren stopped, recognizing his former colleague. "Briggs?"
"Sorry, Mikey, we're closed," Briggs said, closing the door. "Come back tomorrow."
The plane began pulling away, leaving a shocked Warren and his equally shocked fellow FBI agents behind.
A few minutes later, after the plane left the runway and began its trajectory towards Washington, Lindsay grabbed DiNozzo's arm.
"What was all that?" she asked, somewhat indignant, a tad confused, and mainly relieved that it was this bunch and not the FBI she was apparently working with. "What the hell just happened?"
DiNozzo looked at her, then around - at Briggs taking photos, Palmer examining the wound on the neck, and then at the plane itself. 2003 all over again, he thought.
"Deja vu," DiNozzo replied.
-poof-