My first NCIS/AR fic... No hate please!
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. Though I wish I did! This is set Season 3 onwards (no Kate sorry). Alex Rider (after Jack is dead)
Alternate ending: Alex did not go and live with the Pleasures; he stayed with Tom Harris.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs marched into the bullpen clutching a mug of coffee grimly. He had a bad feeling about today. First, he was dragged out of bed by his obnoxiously loud neighbours who thought it was appropriate to play very off key Mozart at three am, then his car's check engine light was on, then the gas station was closed and he had to take his canary yellow Dodge Challenger and got laughed at by one of the trainees, and he was not allowed to headslap them.
"Hey, boss! Director Shepard wants you up in MTAC ASAP. She said something about a petty officer tried to kill a British boy; apparently he was MI6. Double homicide; one of his neighbours, a marine commander was also found dead. The kid is still alive, and Ducky has already gone there to survey the scene." DiNozzo hollered from behind his latest copy of GSM, with a rather proactive picture on the cover.
"Tony! Your voice is louder than a storm horn!" snarled Ziva, as she began to clean her Sig. Again.
"Uh, Ziva, the term is foghorn." stated McGee as he emerged from behind his desk. He had a collection of dust in his short fluffy hair.
"Now you ask why I have a problem with your oh so confusing language, McGee!" retorted Ziva, throwing her hands up in frustration. Gibbs silently walked up to them, and gave each of them a giant head slap and headed off to see what the director wanted for the umpteenth time.
"Ah, Jethro. Cutting it a bit fine, are we?" asked Jenny rhetorically, arms crossed as she moved back to let Gibbs into MTAC.
"DiNozzo and Officer David, Director." he replied shortly. "What is it today?"
"Fourteen year old boy was apparently beaten and left for dead by a petty officer. His neighbour, a Navy Commander tried to stop him, but was shot dead. But,the boy is British. I had McGee check up on his files, and apparently works for MI6." Jen handed Gibbs a file, but he had already left, the door to MTAC swinging open. Shouts of 'on it, Boss!' were heard, as the MCRT jogged to the elevator, and the usual sound of Tony and Ziva's arguing were also in the background.
"Ziva! Bag and tag, McGee photos, DiNozzo interview witnesses." Gibbs barked out orders as he walked over to Ducky and Palmer, who were gently examining the boy, who lay unconscious and barely breathing. The house was a usual crime scene; agents running around, witnesses, yellow police tape all over the place. The average crime scene, just with a British 16 year old spy nearly dead on the porch. Fun, thought Gibbs sarcastically, stepping over Ziva who was dusting for fingerprints.
"Ah, Jethro. The boy is all right, but might need a little strapping up. Mr. Palmer? This reminds me of a time when my old school mate from Eton..." Ducky began mumbling about his childhood again. Gibbs felt a headache coming on, he needed Ducky to shut up and shut up fast or he would end up using his last resort (learned from Abby): duct tape.
"Duck, he was MI6." It worked; Ducky's jaw dropped and the tumble of words immediately ceased. The elderly and gentle ME's eyes blazed in uncharacteristic anger, as he and Jimmy Palmer lifted the boy onto a stretcher.
"Um Dr. Mallard? What is MI6?" asked Palmer questioningly. Although he was assistant ME, he was a tad slow to catch onto things that were outside his area of profession, resulting in the nickname of the Autopsy Gremlin.
"Well, Mister Palmer, MI6 is a branch of British Intelligence, though my respect for them has waned considerably; using a child! My mother always thought Alan Blunt was a bastard. They were school mates back in primary. He was a big bully towards her, pulling her hair and doing childish things. Odd how he turned into the boss of MI6." For once, Gibbs actually listened to Ducky's shorter than usual speech. So Blunt was the boss. He had one heck of a word for him, and Gibbs was sure that Doctor Mallard did too.
"Gibbs, I found something. That is Mossad. This means that someone else was involved in this operation. I do not understand, why have they attacked a British boy?" Ziva's gloved fingers held a knife blade with a inscription in Hebrew: Israel's native language. The other side had the Mossad crest embossed onto it.
"Take that back to Abby, Ziva. This is definetely going to be a very tedious case." Gibbs growled. Hell, he was going to have a talk with this Alan Blunt. Using children for spies?! The very idea was incredulous.
"I don't want the boy out of your sight, and Ducky glean all the evidence off the boy before you send him to Bethesda. That is, unless his health is in any great danger?" Gibbs stalked off, and began pawing through the growing pile of evidence, courtesy of the ex-Mossad kick-ass ninja-Ziva. Ducky shook his head.
"Good, Ziva. DiNozzo! Quit flirting with the ladies and get some photos." barked Gibbs, as he spotted Tony eyeing up some cute looking girls, who were standing by the picket fence, cowering in Gibbs' 'marine stare'.
"Boss, the two marines were Petty Officer James Anderson and Commander Randy Somerset. Somerset is the British SAS liaison. They enlisted in 2003. These ladies are his neighbours, Annie Ray, Sarah Colman and Jenna Henderson. They were the ones who made the 911 call, which was forwarded to NCIS. This pretty lady here was Commander Somerset's wife, Callie. " piped up Tony, reading off his PDA.
"Attaboy, DiNozzo. Ziva found a knife belonging to Mossad, which means someone else was here. Get the blood samples and anything incriminating off to Abby. I also need witness statements." ordered Gibbs.
"Um, Gibbs? Who exactly is this poor child?" inquired Ziva questioningly.
"Alex Rider, MI6 operative." said Gibbs. Ziva's mouth dropped open in shock, Tony looked very angry and McGee just looked very confused.
Alex woke to Ducky's monologue. He lay on a steel table in autopsy, covered by a blanket with a coat under his head.
"Ah, good morning young man!" Ducky greeted the boy jovially. Alex winced; Ducky had the overhead light trained on him. Alex raised his arm, which had been bandaged.
"I took the liberty to sort you out while you were unconscious. I had Mr. Palmer give you some painkillers, no ill effects, I hope?" smiled Ducky, pushing Alex back down onto the table.
"Excuse me, sir, but who are you and where exactly am I? Who is Mr. Palmer?" asked Alex. He seriously had absolutely no idea why he was here.
"You are in autopsy, NCIS Washington DC. I am Doctor Donald Mallard, though most refer to me as Ducky. Jimmy Palmer is my assistant, excuse his timidity, he gets a little bullied by young Anthony." explained Ducky. Alex was shocked. He was in NCIS?! Last time he looked, he was at Jack's house in Indianapolis, mourning three deaths. Her parents had died, resulting in him coming over to their funeral, joint with Jack's. Her father had died of a heart attack and her mother from a broken heart after they had learned of her death in Cairo.
"Why am I in NCIS? What happened?" Alex was alarmed. He tried to get off the bed, sweeping Ducky away roughly as the old man tried to let him stay there. Ducky was surprisingly strong, and shoved Alex back onto the steel table.
"Ah, I think Jethro Gibbs would be the best person to ask." Ducky flipped open a file, and positioned his spectacles. The door to autopsy dinged open, and none other than Leroy Jethro Gibbs stepped out.
"Ah, Jethro! I was not expecting you for quite some time. Tea?" asked Ducky, as he poured steaming English Tea into a mug. Gibbs declined; holding up his coffee cup. Ducky poured a dash of milk in it and handed it to Alex.
"Well? Sir, I don't know who you are, or where I am, or why I am here. Could you please enlighten me?" Alex gripped the mug tightly.
"My name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs, though everyone calls me Gibbs, or Jethro. You are in Washington DC, under protection detail. You were assaulted by a Petty Officer. I don't know why yet, but Abby is figuring it out. And Duck, could Alex leave now, as Palmer has a body or two waiting in the cooler that I would like an autopsy report on. I need to see Abbs anyway." Gibbs barked, helping Alex to his feet.
"Abbs?" asked Alex questioningly.
"Our forensic scientist. You'll like her." Gibbs led him into the elevator and pushed the button that would lead him to the forensics lab.
When the pair stepped out of the elevator, loud rock music deafened them.
"Wait! I will be back in a minute." shouted Gibbs, jogging down the corridor, inserting a five dollar bill into a vending machine. He pulled out possibly the biggest cup of all time, of some kind of drink called Caf-Pow!.
"What is that?" asked Alex questioningly, suspiciously eyeing the drink.
"Abby's favourite. If she finds something good, I give her this as a reward. I dislike it though; too much sugar and it is worse than Red Bull. Though if you want some?" replied Gibbs. Alex shook his head; he and Tom learned the hard way that any of them having Red Bull would not end well.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" cried Abby, looking up from her work and jumping towards Gibbs and Alex. A second later, Alex felt himself crushed by the biggest hug in absolute eternity; nearly getting his eyes gouged out by her scary looking spikes that hung off her dog collar. Shocked, he stood stock still until the Goth released herself.
"Um... Hi?" he asked awkwardly.
"Are you all right? Those MI6 were so mean to you! They are so dumb and they are such abusers of their power! I want to tear Blunt apart! He is such a big fat, fat, fat, fat cat! I can't believe anyone would hurt a child." raged Abby, stamping around her lab in an uncharacteristic flash of temper. Gibbs looked a bit shaken; Abby never spoke ill of anyone, so she evidently hated Blunt to the bottom of her heart.
"Abbs? Evidence." Gibbs handed the Caf-Pow to the emotional forensic scientist who took a long gulp from the straw.
"Better. OK, so I am analysing the blood samples Ziva found, but Major Mass Spec is being slow today. But, I got a hit on the fingerprints Tony found on the knife. Callie Somerset, Commander's late wife, but it doesn't really help because after McGee's background check he found she collected knives. Now, I just need Ducky to find me a bullet."
"Ah Abigail, I am afraid that I cannot find a bullet."