Disclaimer: NCIS is copyrighted material. I am NOT the copyright holder. I'm just a guy scribbling in his den or at work amusing himself and maybe others. No infringement is meant.

Authors Note: I was at work last night, hoping to start writing a Mike story. But my partner was in the mood to tell war stories. He's retired from the Dept. of Corrections. We started talking about guns and gunfights. In twenty nine years, I'd never shot anyone (Thank God). But I carried a pistol and was prepared to prevail if need be. In 1982, I'd been on the Job for four years. I worked on a department with 80 sworn officers in North Jersey. Our training budget was just enough to have the mandated twice yearly Firearms Qualifications. Needless to say I was not happy with this. So spending my own money I went out to Arizona and attended one of the premiere pistol schools in the country. Gunsite Ranch, run by Col. Jeff Cooper (USMC Ret.). What I learned there I carried with me for my entire career. It made me more confident in my ability to use my weapon and master any situation. The following story is based on a training run we did at the school.

Technical Notes:

Color codes of danger: Based on a system used by the USMC during WWII in the Pacific. Taught by Gunsite during the classroom phase of training.

Condition White: No perception of danger. Totally unaware and unprepared. Caught in this condition, you're going to get hammered.

Condition Yellow: Relaxed Awareness. You are aware of what and especially who is around you. You are not actively looking for danger but know it can come up. A normal well adjusted person can remain in this condition for his entire waking life.

Condition Orange: Unspecified Alert. There is reason to expect an as yet unknown danger. Something is not as it should be in your world.

Condition Red: Armed Encounter. You have come across a dangerous individual bent on harming you. You'll draw your weapon and take the appropriate measures.

Some thoughts from Jeff Cooper on guns and gunfighting:

"Remember the first rule of gunfighting…'have a gun'"

"Owning a handgun doesn't make you armed any more than owning a guitar makes you a musician"

"The will to survive is not as important as the will to prevail"

Liquor store, Suburban Washington, DC Late Saturday Morning

Yellow

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo pulled his car into the strip mall parking lot. He needed a bottle of wine. His partner Ziva David was coming for dinner later and Tony was out of wine. He could have walked to the store, but it was Saturday and Tony was feeling lazy.

As he got out of his car Tony glanced around the parking lot. Couple of cars, no foot traffic. Tony's local liquor store sat between a tattoo parlor and a nail salon. It was run by a husband and wife who had emigrated from Bosnia. The front of the store was plastered with advertisements. The only clear glass was the door. Tony had told the owners that obscuring the windows was not a good idea. They smiled and nodded, but the windows were still covered.

Approaching the door, Tony unconsciously unzipped his jacket. This allowed him access to the Sig in the shoulder holster under his left arm. Normally Tony did not carry when making a short run like this. Shopping at this particular store however made him nervous. Tony pulled open the door.

Orange

As he entered, Tony's eyes swept the store. The aisles ran towards him back to front. On the left wall were the cold boxes containing beer, wine, and soda. The counter with the cash register was to the right. At the end of the aisle in front of him was a waist high cold box containing bottled water. It was an old style box with thick metal sides.

Behind the counter, instead of the owner or his wife was a neatly dressed white male wearing a leather jacket. Tony smiled.

"Morning, nice day huh?"

The guy grunted but said nothing further. Tony's heart started thumping. In the years he had been coming to the store, he'd never seen anyone other than the owner and/or his wife behind the counter. Something was up.

The wine he was looking for was down the aisle in front of him. At the end of this aisle was the door to the rear storeroom. The door swung open and a black male with a revolver in his hand stepped out.

"Hey Richie, They're…….

Red

At FLETC, the firearms instructors had always said "The immediate threat is the first one to go". Back Room Guy qualified. Tony took two steps into the aisle, drawing his Sig. This broke "Richie's" line of sight. Back Room Guy was raising his revolver.

"FEDERAL AGENT, DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

It was automatic. It never worked.

As the front sight of Tony's Sig steadied on target, he squeezed off two rounds. Back Room Guy went down hard, the revolver dropping to the floor.

Gunshots from Tony's right shattered liquor bottles, the snap of a close round passing made Tony crouch down.

Through the ringing in his ears, Tony heard what he thought were shuffling noises that sounded like they were headed for the rear of the store. Still crouching Tony moved to the front of the aisle. Now came the part that's the reason he got paid the big bucks. He'd have to make a hard left turn and confront "Richie" before he made it to the back room door.

DiNozzo took a deep breath and made the turn.

"Richie" was just clearing the end of the counter. His weapon, a blue steel semi-auto was up. They fired simultaneously. "Richie's" round shattered a bottle of rum, showering Tony with broken glass and alcohol. Tony's two rounds hit the gunman dead center, flipping him backwards.

Fight over.

It had taken exactly two minutes and twenty seconds from the time Tony opened the door to "Richie" hitting the floor. All because Tony was out of wine.

A/N: Of course out in Arizona this was done in a tire walled "killing house" with plywood partitions and pop up "thug targets". I passed. In the show and a lot of times in fan fiction, Tony is portrayed as a goof. But before he was a Fed, he was a cop for eight or nine years. I am just trying to show he's a professional. How'd I do?