Copyright: existing characters belong to CBS and the creators of the NCIS Franchise. Story written for fan fiction.
Author: lezaanv
Summary: Agent Gibbs is tasked to help investigate a case riddled with hidden clues. Instead, he finds more than one subterfuge and is pulled into a game of cat and mouse.
Characters: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Leon Vance, Tim McGee, Ducky Mallard, Abby Sciuto, Ellie Bishop
Please be advised: story has not been beta'd. I apologize in advance for any mistakes. They are unfortunately mine.
CHAPTER 1: SUBTERFUGE
Major Tori Hatcher stood before the window overlooking the Navy Yard, coffee in hand as she gazed at the river in the distance. Every now and then, she would sneak a peek at the Gunny, searing to memory his posture and stoic behavior. His back was rigid, while he sat on the edge of the seat and examined the case file she'd brought along. Moreover, between those glances she would observe his appearance, summarizing the little tells for when they actually spoke to one another.
Over the years, she'd taught herself that details, albeit small, aided her in conversing in a way respectful to the other person. There was no stepping on toes or provoking unnecessary anger. Although when essential, she would know exactly what buttons to push. Even so, the role of peacemaker was first the road most traveled by. In particular with a veteran like Special Agent Gibbs.
The Major quirked her lips.
For a former Marine, his silver hair now covered the shaved parts, wore a comfortable formal ensemble and shiny black shoes. It appeared as if he cared about etiquette and made sure he was fighting fit. Almost like a restored antique pickup truck, still in need of daily TLC. She smirked at the thought; it wasn't a comment she would use in public or to him for that matter.
Her amber eyes drifted to the scenery once more, knowing he knew she was inspecting him. He was a sniper after all. His chair creaked, followed by the sound of glasses bouncing off the wooden surface. She felt his icy blue eyes stare at the back of her head long before he broke the silence.
"No Navy or Marine connection." Agent Gibbs stated more than queried.
Tori tilted her body so, gesturing with the coffee cup at the file across from him, then went back about gazing at the view. She heard him grab his reading glasses.
"Page four." She specified.
Despite her lack of eye contact, Gibbs nodded in accord and turned to said page.
"NCIS Special Agent Miguel Montenegro. Agent afloat before he transferred to Yuma eight years ago. Then three years later relocated to Newport, Rhode Island."
He snapped it shut and glanced at her.
"Wrong building, Major." Tori ignored the rejection, took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, and shuddered at the aftertaste. Turned towards him with eyes locked on the swirling contents. "This is."
"Uh-huh." He agreed with a slight sneer tweaking at his lips.
"I couldn't have said it better myself."
She set the cup down and approached, making sure her eyes stayed on her destination and grabbed for a chair. He scrutinized with as much interest as possible, whilst hiding the vital fact that he detested the interruption. She looked at the window and smiled as she recalled a memorable moment.
"As a kid, I loved tagging along with my parents when they went to yard sales. It's strange I know, but there was this old man who entertained the neighborhood kids with a shell game. Like curious monkeys, they tried their best to find the ball hidden beneath, but they never did. He was just so . . . crafty. Fooled heaps out of their spare change."
"Not you." He interrupted with a lopsided smile, also noticed the sincerity in her appearance.
Chuckling, she gazed at him. "At first, the intrigue was thrilling until the older kids called him a fraud. That's when I decided to keep my distance and watch, intently, how he conned them out of their pocket money."
She leaned her elbows on the table's surface, amber eyes focused on his aging expression. His gaze showed no signs of waver, only the hint that he read her micro expressions with the same intensity.
"The cups he used were a dainty white, and the ball a murky green. You'd think it would be easy to catch on." She chuckled at the silliness. "Then one day from my perch, I saw the ball roll along until I noticed his sleight of hand. So subtle, yet so elegant, but man I nearly exclaimed eureka at the revelation. Poor kids, they were so focused on tracking the cup and its occupant, they missed the exchange."
"Gotta point?" Gibbs queried exasperated, hoping he didn't have another Ducky on his hands. It was out of respect that he had entertained the Major for this long. He couldn't help her; NCIS couldn't help with this case.
A willful smile curled her lips. "Oh, there's a point."
He canted his head, glaring.
"Humor me?"
He waved a curt go-ahead, and she positioned the folders alongside each other.
"To the eye, there's no difference. Same color, same print and so forth, but when you open them . . ." She did so with both. ". . . there's a clear variance."
Gibbs scowled, wondering why she even bothered stating the obvious if his expression portrayed annoyance. Why hadn't he sent McGee or Bishop to tell her off? Now he was stuck in school with someone twenty years younger. The Major marked his restraint slip away and quickly supplied.
"The trick if I may."
She slid Montenegro's file below that of the other one, then pointed between them.
"Page six for the contractor. Page eight for the Special Agent."
His eyes lingered on her as she leaned back in the chair, evidently pleased with herself. After that, they narrowed to slits before he paged to their respective places. He read Nigel Alexander's page first, then went on to the Agent's page. Both supplied information of their high school days. What academy they attended afterwards.
"Well, I'll be dammed." He gazed at her over the rims of the spectacles. "They're one in the same."
She raised an eyebrow, delighted sneer still evident on her lips. "Yes and no."
His jaw tightened and replied in a curt manner. "I don't believe in . . ."
"Coincidences, I know. Me either."
He smiled at that, enough to show his appreciation. She retrieved two photos from her knapsack, placed each one where they belonged and gestured at them.
"Two faces, one man."
"Or one man and his accomplice." He corrected.
Tori shook her head. "Like in the story, it's subterfuge, Agent Gibbs. It's my job to find out where the sleight of hand took place."
Uninterested, he watched how she retrieved a piece of paper and slid it over to his hand resting on the table's surface. His eyes lifted towards her, while he rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. In tandem, they stared at one another until laughter rattled his chest. Tori's lips quirked into a shrewd smile. He shook his head before he reacted to the familiar inscription.
"He's calling in a favour?" She nodded with a deadpan countenance.
His laughing died away, expression serious as he drilled her with a glare. "Rule 36: If it feels like you're being played, you probably are."
With that, he vacated his seat in haste, the Major barely fast enough to stand at attention. The door slammed shut and then she was alone. Her military posture slouched somewhat. Relief spilling through her muscles as she breathed a sigh. She'd survived the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs, yes, however, would Director Vance stay the course? "That went well, Tori, really well."
"Colonel Mann said if I ever needed the eye of a skilled investigator, you wouldn't mind helping a friend of a friend."
Jethro Gibbs barged through the door of the Director's office. Eyes locked with that of Vance's smug expression, he headed for the briefing table. Set the case files down and gestured at the door.
"I just listened to a rookie justify a gut feeling with a gambling game she saw twenty odd years ago. Only to find out, you'd already sanctioned a joint investigation." He approached Vance's desk, glare subtle and unnerving. "The answer's no."
"I wouldn't cast the Major's account aside if I were you, Gibbs. It has merit."
The Special Agent sighed and stared at the ceiling, reining in his frustration. Vance's smile grew a notch enjoying the reaction and awaited the next harsh statement.
"I don't trust her."
"And yet you're cut from the same cloth." The Director voiced. "You'll find you have more in common than what you observed in a short while."
"Do we now?" Gibbs' eyebrow raised with the brusque question. "Special Agent in U.S. Army Counterintelligence doesn't mean she's a good investigator. Ambitious yes, but overreaching and far fetched assumptions don't make a case. Solid, good leads do. She took a shot in the dark hoping it would find a target."
"And these quick allegations are based upon what? Experience? She's not a child."
"Never said she was."
"Fair enough. How about I ask you that you trust me, Gibbs. The Major's methods may come across as strange . . ."
Jethro motioned over at the case files. "Alexander's squeaky clean. A civilian contracted by the military to supply building materials overseas. Except their shared education, there's no further correlation between them. Agent Montenegro's a . . ." A man with two faces. It's a trick, Agent Gibbs. Tori's mellow voice commented in his mind.
He lowered his hand, gaze distant as he looked to the floor. It's either drugs or weapons he's trafficking.
Leon discerned the change and stood to his feet. "I've seen that look before, Gibbs. You've found the sleight of hand, haven't you?"
The Special Agent set out for the table, grabbing a hold of Montenegro's file upon arrival. Paged through to the desired location.
Silence settled in while he skimmed through the information.
"Agent afloat from 2001, he was tasked to our Europe-Africa branch before he asked for a transfer to Arizona in '09. He spent three years in the middle of nowhere, then moved on to Newport Naval Station. Five years and counting."
"Yes, that's correct." Vance raised an eyebrow. "Care to share?" Gibbs turned his attention back to the Director and smirked wryly. "Okay, my team will take the lead on the investigation. And since she's so good at it, she can . . . observe."
Vance squared his jaw as he gazed at the older gentleman. "No. No team, just you and the Major."
"You have a hobby I don't know about?" Gibbs joked and concluded as an afterthought. "Always work as a team."
Vance smirked at the Rule, afterward the smile faded whilst he declared in a serious tone. "In this instance, mentoring is an additive for me. Besides, I see no wrong in helping an Army CI investigator. We could use a little mutual cooperation every so often."
"I don't have time for this, Leon." He rejected in a grunt. "Assign someone else."
"I won't fight you on this one . . ."
"Good, then it's settled. Nice chat." Gibbs strode for the door.
"Your transport leaves in three hours, I expect you to be on it."
The Special Agent glared over his shoulder. Vance smiled in a smug manner.
"Marine Corps Air Station's expecting you. So is the NCIS office. Have a safe flight."
The Special Agent approached and glanced at the window behind him, before gazing at the man he'd come to respect over the years. He had enticed him, again. Dammit.
"Why?"
"I know Major Hatcher. I've watched her grow over the years, she shows promise. With a little guidance, any Agency will be happy to have her."
"And you feel obliged to give her this encouragement and are using me to do so. Did I miss something?"
Vance schooled a neutral expression. "Your track record speaks for itself."
"Uh huh, why do I feel slighted and honoured then?" Jethro turned his back on him and walked away. "You owe me, Leon." He grabbed the door's handle. "Big time."
Vance nodded, pleased with the Agent's submission. "Somehow I don't feel flattered, but considering the aftermath, it will be well worth it."
"If I don't shoot her first." He retorted as he swung the door open and concluded in a wry tone of voice. "Adios Amigos."