Rating: FR13

Characters: Abby, Chip, Ziva, and the team.

Summary: Chip wants revenge; all of his plans were foiled by Abby and now she's sending him to jail.

Genre: Drama

Challenge: Encore Challenge and Bert Challenges.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters.


"Which, if not victory, is yet revenge."

John Milton, Paradise Lost


"Hey, Chucky! How are you doing?" Mark called as he walked in the door.

"Hey, Mark!" Charles greeted his brother. "Call me Charles; you know I hate that name." Though their features were similar, they'd never be mistaken for twins. Charles Sterling had never been very athletic, but Mark Agnoli looked like an offensive lineman for the Baltimore Ravens. The brothers had little in common. Mark couldn't distinguish gas chromatography from gel electrophoresis; his knowledge was the type that changed him from an indifferent student into a successful businessman. Charles would prefer to watch a movie produced by Ingmar Bergman rather than any of the James Bond DVDs his brother had given him at Christmas. Despite their differences, the two were close.

"Sorry, buddy." Mark apologized as they moved into the living room. "I got your message; how are you doing?"

"I've been better. Mom starts crying every time she talks with me, I'm facing jail time for assaulting a co-worker, and my lawyer is an idiot." Charles scowled as he sat down.

"Hey, Mr. Steele came very highly recommended."

"I'd prefer Mr. LoDuca."

"You know you need some one who's not connected with the family. I'm not even sure that it's a good idea for me to be here."

"You're my brother and I want you here. Believe me, it couldn't make things any worse."

Mark was the proprietor of a small store in Baltimore specializing in goods imported from Europe. Though the store provided a sufficient income for him, it was only a front to conceal Mark's real work within the "business" run by the Salinitri family. Charles didn't know much about his job; Mark tried to shield his little brother from the unpleasant realities associated with his work.

It had always been that way. Mark had protected Charles not only from the bullies on the playground, but also from the situation in the Agnoli home. Their father, Markus Sr., had been an involved with the Salinitris as well. Try as she might, their mother Clarissa was never able to keep him from conducting his business within their home. Mark was older than Charles and had shielded him from the worst of it. When her husband met with a fatal accident, Clarissa decided to separate the boys from that life by moving away from Baltimore. Mark had adamantly refused to leave and elected to stay with an uncle. Determined to save at least one of her sons, she took Charles to her family's home in West Virginia.

"So how does it look for you?" Mark leaned forward with a concerned expression on his face.

"The DA offered me three to five years for aggravated assault and aggravated battery. He's willing to drop the other charges."

"That's all? After everything that happened at NCIS, I thought it would be worse."

"Yeah, but if it were to go to trial, it would all come down to her word against mine. According to my lawyer, the physical evidence was destroyed during our struggle and everything else is circumstantial. I should have kept my cool. The chances of her having been able to recover enough intact DNA from that carpet fiber to use for identification were miniscule. There would have been no concrete evidence to link me to the frame up."

"Are you going to take the deal?"

"Do I have any choice?"

"Not really. You can't have them poking into your past."

If the prosecution were allowed to take Charles to trial they would dig deeper into the case that resulted in his termination from Pemberton Medical Analysis. That could lead them to check other cases that Charles worked. An overzealous legal assistant might discover a connection between some of the inconclusive results that came from the laboratory and the cases that dealt with the Salinitri family.

The family had wanted to get a man on the inside to 'handle' the forensic evidence collected by the authorities. Charles had been the perfect person for the job. He was a model son and an upright citizen; any ties he'd had to the Salinitris' were long buried in the past. They decided his activities would raise too much suspicion to have him directly working for the Baltimore police department, so he'd found a job with Pemberton. Much of the independent testing required by lawyers on both sides of the aisle went to that laboratory.

Charles had successfully fulfilled his obligations to both his employer and his benefactors for a number of years. He was scrupulously precise with most of the testing he did, but it wasn't hard to fix certain samples to give inconclusive or negative results. He'd maintained an unblemished record until the case that resulted in his termination. Charles hadn't a choice; he didn't have the opportunity to swap out the sample or to change the report. Contaminating the blood was quick, dirty, and effective. He knew that the damage might be traced back to him, though he'd tried to throw the blame on the forensic tech that had prepared it. That sample had the potential to directly implicate one of his employers in the death of a protected witness and he was under quite a bit of pressure to make it go away.

Despite his efforts, the "mistake" had been traced back to Charles. The Salinitris' had been upset to lose their inside man and felt a sense of obligation if not appreciation for Charles' sacrifice. They had the court records sealed and found him an interim job. They'd also happily provided the resources he needed to settle the scores with DiNozzo and Stewart. One of their contacts in the judicial system had kept tabs on Stewart, finding him after he'd disappeared and changed his name to Petrie. The family had provided physical assistance as well; it had been much easier than he anticipated to covertly enter the morgue and remove the legs from the Jane Doe with a couple of his cousins at his side.

"What went wrong with the plan? What happened to 'Anytime I undertake a mission, I recon the situation so I can best adapt myself to the surroundings.'" Mark was frustrated that their scheme had failed so spectacularly.

"Abby. Abby is what went wrong." Charles spit a little as he described her. "She's a little girl whose whims are indulged by everyone else. She's thoroughly unprofessional; she whines when she doesn't get her way and she's irrationally jealous of anyone who might take attention away from her."

"But she's good. No one should have been able to clear DiNozzo."

"She's tenacious when it comes to her favorites. If I'd set up any one other than a person on Gibbs' team, she'd never have gone to those lengths."

"What about you? You were part of her team, too. Wouldn't she have defended you as being set up by Stewart just like DiNozzo?"

"No way. She never liked me. I invaded her sanctum and presumed to do forensics in her lab." Charles voice was mocking. "Never mind that I was more than qualified and that the Director herself had hired me. She would have listened to the farting hippo before me."

"What?"

"It's this stuffed animal she's got, a hippo with a rude noisemaker inside. She keeps it in the lab and it wears a little spiked collar just like hers." Charles was getting worked up. "This is all her fault. Why couldn't she have just left it alone when DiNozzo was cleared? Why did she have to dig deeper? Now, I'm going to jail and I'm not going to do well there. What if they find out…."

"Hey, hey! Don't worry about jail. The word's gone out, nobody will mess with you." Mark tried to calm his brother.

"Thanks." Charles was still distraught. "But what am I going to do? I'll never get another forensics job. Abby saw to that, Abby with her superior attitude. She can't contemplate the idea that someone else could do the work just as well as she could. She used to chase me out of the lab at the end of the day, even if there were more evidence to process. Did you know..."

"Chuck, don't work yourself up. We can deal with her." Mark hoped that hearing the nickname would jolt him out of the rant.

"Don't call me that!" Charles paused, "what do you mean?"

"Well, she might have an accident on the way to work. Or you know, some of the neighborhoods she frequents aren't that safe. A random mugging on the way home from a club could put her in the hospital. Or someone could slip something into her drink, she's just about the only one in the building that drinks Caf-Pow, right?"

"I want to do it."

"You can't."

"I know, I know. But can I plan it? Can I make it personal for her?"

"What are you thinking of, Chuck?" Mark was wary.

"Don't call me that." Charles was a little irritated, but he smiled. "I've got the perfect idea."


End note: Chip's statement, "anytime I undertake a mission, I recon the situation so I can best adapt myself to the surroundings" is from Voyeur's Web.

Note: I chose to punish him for the violent crimes (threatening and attacking Abby) and let the others be dropped. I'm not sure if this is realistic, but bear with it please; I need it to be this way to fit into the rest of the story.