Chapter One: Ms. Natasha Trotsky?
The guards at the stop just outside of the navy yard had the yellow taxi cab that was so often seen along the streets of D.C. pull to a stop and the rear window of the cab was rolled down. A beautiful woman with tanned skin, full, ruby stained lips, and long dark auburn hair leaned forward and in a heavy Russian accent asked, "Is anything wrong, sir?"
"No ma'am, standard security check. What brings you to the navy yard today?" The white-shirted security guard asked.
"I have an appointment scheduled with Director Vance of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. My name is Natasha Trotsky."
"Some identification, please, Ms. Trotsky."
The woman knelt and the guard watched warily but she came up with simply a wallet from which she pulled a passport and grasping it lightly, she passed it to the guard who noted her violently square nails which glinted slightly in the sun.
"This all looks in order, however, I must ask you to leave the cab here in accordance to security policy. The navy yard no longer allows cabs into the yard because of an incident some time back. I can have a guard accompany you to the main building and an agent take you from there."
"You can save the guard the trip Dave!" A handsome young man in dark sunglasses and an expensive looking suit called out, "I can accompany our guest to wherever she may go." The end of his line turning flirtatious as the woman directed her attention to him.
"Very well." The woman said and paid the cabbie his fair as the door was opened by the security guard, Dave. The woman stepped out, pulling a rolling leather suitcase out with her.
The handsome man's smile widened as he took the woman in. She wore a tight violet dress, with long sleeves, a deep square collar cut that gave an elegant view of her cleavage, and short hem line that showed off long attractive legs. Violet pumps extended her legs even more. Her nails were manicured. Her heavy makeup only served to draw attention to wide blue eyes. Her lips curled in a smile as her body's curves caught the attention of not just the young man who had offered his assistance but all if the guards in the security station as well.
The man offered his hand but as she offered hers he bent his head and placed a kiss upon the back of her hand as he introduced himself, "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, signorina."
She smiled, "Зачарованные1, I am Natasha Trotsky. I have an appointment with Director Leon Vance of the Nav—"
"NCIS" The young man interrupted but winked at her, "Good. It just so happens that I am an NCIS agent and can accompany on your journey to meet our esteemed director. Now, I shall take your bag and we shall leave Dave to his duties." He stated in a jovial tone.
She let loose a light giggle but offered her bag to the charming agent. They made their way to the building and through security with ease as Tony, as he insisted on being called, kept up a constant stream of charming small talk and flirtations. Eventually they made their way up an elevator to open on a floor that seemed to be one of the main centers of activity that Tony called the 'bullpen.'
She noticed Tony immediately turned his attention to a particular section of desks that she was soon informed was where his team was stationed. There were four desks situated in a square like formation with monitors up and computers on each desk. A woman sat in the corner closest to the elevator. She had dark, middle-eastern skin and hair that was braided back and out of her face and she had been working at her computer until she heard the opening of the elevator, at which time she had turned to see Tony enter, escorting a beautiful and young looking woman.
In the corner diagonal from the woman sat a handsome enough young man who looked younger than both Tony and the woman and held a somewhat geeky presence. His eyes had flicked up, saw Tony and the beautiful woman, and snapped back down to the computer screen.
Now Natasha prided herself on her acute awareness, reflexes, and abilities to read people. And as soon as she had seen Tony she had begun to profile him and now profiled his team mates. Tony was a young man of masks, his heavy flirtations probably masked a fear of being taken seriously or a past relationship that had gone wrong. He was perceptive but wished to hide his skills behind bravado. He was quite loyal to his team and had probably formed relationships with them that he had never had with any group of people before. His youth was probably spent bouncing from place to place and group to group and now he probably cherished the stability offered but didn't wish to show how much he liked it for fear of it disappearing.
The woman seemed middle-eastern, most likely Israeli, in appearance. From her actions, she was trained heavily in attack and defense and if Natasha's guess about Israeli was right, she was probably Mussaud at some point. She had probably learned several lessons the hard way and blood shed was something she had become accustomed to early on in life.
The young man looked up again and it was in that moment that he recognized Natasha and stood. The moment he stood he drew Natasha's attention and suddenly she had crossed the small space and began babbling in Russian, "Oh! Тимоти! Я почти не признать вас! Он был так долго! Я не знаю, вы работали для ВМФ!—2"
She was cut off by his laugh and him grasping her hands in greeting, "Woah! Slow down, Natasha," He said, enunciating and speaking a bit slowly, "I'm American, I speak English, not Russian." All of this was said with a smile on his face and warmth in his eyes.
"Oh! I am sorry Timothy," She said with a heavier Russian accent than before that seemed tinged with excitement, "It has been so long! I did not know that you worked for the American navy!"
He grinned, "Have since you met me."
"You two obviously know each other." Tony said breaking out of his stupor at seeing the beautiful Russian speaking so familiarly with McGee.
"Yeah, Natasha and I met when I was tutoring at the American University here in DC where she was a foreign exchange student from Russia. I helped her with her American phrasing and classwork over the quarter and we became friends. We lost touch a few years ago though." The end he finished with a clearly questioning look.
"Oh! I am so sorry Timothy. That was around when I was moving from Moscow to St. Petersburg and my computer got wiped and my Papa was ill." She appeared remorseful and saddened at the end.
"Is your father okay?" Timothy asked concerned.
"Oh yes, he was diagnosed with diabetes but he is doing fine since the doctors figured it out. Mama is doing well also."
"That's really good, how are you doing Natasha? Not to be rude, but what are you doing in D.C. again, and at NCIS?" Timothy questioned.
"I am doing well. It is not rude to ask though, Timothy, we have not talked in a long time. I'm here for a meeting with Director Leon Vance that Tony was escorting me to. You work with Tony?"
"Tony—What? Oh yeah, DiNozzo is one of my team members." As he said this and turned towards Tony, Natasha caught the eye of the woman who had been watching the entire encounter with interest, and in the case of the gaping Tony, with humor.
Timothy, noticing the eye contact gave off a light cough and said, "Forgive me Natasha, this is Ziva David, she is an agent of NCIS and one of my other team members."
Ziva stood upon the introduction and offered her hand.
"Natasha Trotsky." Natasha introduced.
"Ziva David." Ziva stated formally and shook her hand.
Immediately recognizing the Israeli accent Natasha asked, "אתה לא יקרה להיות מישראל, אתה היית עושה?3"
"אני. העברית שלך טובה מאוד. כמה שפות אתה מדבר?4" Ziva responded, her brows raised slightly in surprise.
"תשעה שוטפת. ואתה?5" Natasha asked lightly.
"עשר.6 Impressive. " Ziva stated switching back to English to assuage the blank looking male agents in the room.
"Спасибо.7" Natasha said smiling calmly back.
Timothy smiled, sensing the calm truce that had been reached between the two proud women and asked, "Your meeting?"
"Oh! Yes, I am so sorry Timothy but I really must be on my route." Natasha exclaimed, brushing a kiss over his cheek, and turning to go before whirling back around to face him.
"I believe you meant way." Timothy said with a chuckle.
"Huh?"
"Going on your way, not route. Close enough though." He assured her.
"Yes, well, we should meet up later to get up."
"Catch up. You seem to have forgotten much in our time apart. Wait a moment," He crossed the small space to his desk and pulled out a small white rectangle before offering it to her, "My card."
She smiled and kissed each of his cheeks, "Still sweet, Timothy, Спасибо.7" Her smile turned coy as she watched his cheeks tint red when she tucked his card inside the top of her dress to be guarded by her cleavage.
"Let us be on our way to the great director il mio tesoro!8" Tony exclaimed flirtatiously.
They made their way up the stairs and Tony opened a metal door that led to what seemed to be a type of waiting room. Upon the entrance of Tony, the secretary, who was seated at a desk broke into a smile.
"One bello9 Ms. Natasha Trotsky, here for an appointment with our great overseer Director Leon Vance!" Tony proclaimed widely causing the secretary to giggle.
She turned professional however when addressing Natasha, saying, "He's expecting you, you may go right in."
"Thank you." Natasha stated politely before turning to Tony who waggled his eyebrows roguishly.
"Before you go, tell me, you and McGee?" His voice heavy with innuendos.
"Timothy is a good man and a good friend, Tony." She stated firmly and seriously.
Tony's eyes lost their hinting as he turned thoughtful, "He is." He finally stated with some amount of seriousness.
"You seem to be a good man too, Anthony DiNozzo, and a good friend for Timothy. Look after him?" She asked, concern and honesty filling her gaze.
"I do. Daily." He said, which prompted a small giggle from her, causing him to grin. "Can't make any promises when it concerns McProbie though. It was lovely meeting you Ms. Natasha Trotsky, and if our fates our not intended to cross again, goodbye." He clasped her hands dramatically at the end of this and she gave a small smile.
"Спасибо, Тони.10" Natasha said and pressed a light kiss to each of his cheeks before taking her bag and entering the metal door, which closed shortly after her, nothing heard in the time that it was open.
1 charmed (Russian)
2 Oh! Timothy! I almost didn't recognize you! It has been so long! I didn't know you worked for the navy! (Russian)
3 You would not happen to be from Israel, would you? (Hebrew)
4 I am. Your Hebrew is very good. How many languages do you speak? (Hebrew)
5 Nine fluently. And you? (Hebrew)
6 Ten. (Hebrew)
7 Thank you. (Russian)
8 My darling (Italian)
9 Beautiful (Italian)
10 Thank you, Tony. (Russian)
Chapter Two: Bentley. Aurora Bentley.
The dark skinned Director Leon Vance rose from his desk the moment his door opened but held his silence until the door was shut behind the beautiful woman who entered.
"Leon!" The woman exclaimed, not in the heavy Russian voice of before, but rather in a clearly discernable British accent.
"Aurora." He greeted, coming forward and grasping both of her hands in greeting, placing a polite kiss on each cheek. "It is lovely to see you again, no trouble I presume?"
"No, your Agent DiNozzo escorted Natasha to the meeting." She responded lightly, taking the seat he offered her at the conference table the office held.
Leon chuckled, "Star struck?"
"Maybe just a bit," She relied with a wry grin, "You managed to snatch up Timothy McGee?"
He rose his brows in surprise, "You know McGee?"
"Leon darling," She drawled, "I know everyone of importance." He rolled his eyes and she continued more seriously, "We met when I was under my appearance of Natasha Trotsky when she attended the American University at age eighteen working on her masters in psychology under their foreign exchange program. However, in an assassination attempt Natasha's cover was blown and Timothy met Aurora Bentley. Timothy and Natasha lost touch, but Timothy and Aurora met officially at a literary conference two years ago and have kept in touch. I also came across a Ziva David while making my way through NCIS. Is she?" She let the question draw out and hang in the air until he responded.
"Was. She came to NCIS under my predecessor, Director Shepard, as a liaison between NCIS and Mussaud. She has since became a citizen of the United States and joined NCIS as an agent."
"And? Is she?" She questioned again.
"Eli's daughter? Yes." He continued under the gaze of Aurora, "In some ways she is quite like him but in others she takes after her mentor."
"And her mentor would be?" Aurora drawled.
"Special Agent in Charge, Leroy Jethro Gibbs." Leon stated dryly.
"Ah, the famous, or infamous, Leroy Jethro Gibbs." She said, waggling her brows a bit in jest, "Tell me Leon!" She cried whimsically, "Is he as they say?"
"You mean is he an old school bastard S.O.B who does everything and anything to get a case closed, frequently shows blatant disregard for both the rules and the law, doesn't care whose toes he has to step on to get a job done, leader of the team with the highest success rate in all of NCIS?"
"Yes!" She exclaimed brightly.
"Well, yes, than he is exactly as they say."
Aurora grinned happily, "I want to meet him."
Leon groaned at this proclamation.
"What about Tony?" She questioned.
"DiNozzo? What about him?"
"How did he come to NCIS?"
"He came to NCIS during the time of Director Marrow. He came after an NCIS opp. strayed into Baltimore PD jurisdiction where he was a detective. He had switched cities with different PD's a couple of times before and was brought onto Gibbs's team. Under Director Shepard he ran a long time undercover opp. that ended somewhat poorly and was also offered his own team in Spain, which he turned down. He headed Gibbs's team for a while when Gibbs took a 'break.' He is a competent investigator."
"Why am I sensing a 'but' Leon?"
Leon snorted, "But, there have been several incidents involving DiNozzo that don't sit well with me. Not only that, but he has a tendency to act with disregard and flippancy, which have led to things that don't sit well with me as head of this agency."
"So he takes after Gibbs?"
Leon snorted, "Yeah, he takes after Gibbs. Too much so."
"But Leon!" Aurora exclaimed, "Every agency needs a Gibbs! And your Gibbs won't be around forever! He needs a protégé! Someone to take up the reigns once he is gone! Besides, you don't hate Gibbs!"
Leon just stared at her and sighed, "Why do I feel as if you are rooting for Gibbs?"
She blinked and said straight faced, "Because you are an intelligent man and because I am." And then she broke into a grin.
He rolled his eyes and stood, crossing the room to his desk where he removed a file from his desk's surface and returned, setting the file before her. "The papers are ready to be signed, that is of course as long as your citizenship has come through?"
She gave him a mock hurt look, "Would I be here if anything but?"
He simply looked at her.
"Fine." She pouted, "Be that way. Pen?"
He set a pen on the table beside the file.
She took it and with a flip of papers, a click, Aurora Marie Bentley was signed on the desired line. She looked up at him, beaming.
He offered his hand for a shake and formally stated, "Welcome to the agency Special Agent Bentley."
He stiffened as she forewent the handshake, stood, and threw her arms around him in a hug before relaxing and gently embracing her.
"Thank you Leon." She murmured in his ear.
"Of course, Aurora, you are welcome." He responded kindly.
Aurora returned to her seat and Leon rose and crossed the room to open doors to a liquor cabinet, "I really shouldn't be giving you anything, seeing as you are still under the legal age…" Leon said, trailing off playfully.
Aurora blew out a breath, "Please! I have lived in other countries with a much lower drinking age for most of my life Leon! I think I can handle my alcohol!" She said as she rose airily and crossed the room to join him. She reached for a crystal bottle filled with an amber liquid and poured a good measure into each of the two glasses Leon provided.
"To new beginnings," She toasted.
Leon raised his glass and they both drank. Leon placed the bottle back and shut the cabinet and escorted Aurora back to their seats. Sipping the drink he said, "Agent Rider is tying up ends with the CIA and should be done with them soon. You and he are scheduled to ship out to LA in one week's time."
"Mmmhh." Aurora responded with half veiled eyes before turning her gaze to him and stating seriously, "I want to work with Gibbs."
Leon nearly choked on his drink and scowled at the amused look that crossed Aurora's face, "People don't just work with Gibbs!" He protested.
"Leon, Leon, Leon," She clucked her tongue in mock disapproval, "You're not obviously as intelligent as you lead me to believe." He gave her a dark look and she smirked and continued, "I am someone. I am stubborn. I will work with Gibbs. Besides," She said flippantly, ignoring his incredulous look, "I am sure you can find something in my vast repertoire of knowledge to tie me to whatever case he may be working."
"Very well." Leon sighed, "I'm sure I can find something to keep you occupied before you and Rider head out. It's probably better for you to have your hands full rather than empty." He muttered the last part.
She turned to glare at him as she caught the muttered line. He gave her an innocent look and she huffed. "Very well." She smirked, "You apparently know what they say, empty hands are the devil's play things, so you better find a way to tie me to his case quick!" She laughed at the panicked look that came across his face.
"Relax Leon, I'll be good, I promise," She finished off her drink and stood, "I'm going to go, Natasha and Timothy will catch up during lunch, Natasha will check into a hotel, I'll get out of all this," She gestured to herself, "And Special Agent Bentley will turn up with the proper credentials and check in with you."
He sighed, as if asking for patience, but set his glass down and crossed the room and opened a file cabinet and pulled out a standard 9 mm SIG and a standard NCIS agent's badge and handed both to her. "I'm sure you can find some way to get these through security."
"Oh, I know I can." She responded easily, placing both in a pocket in her suitcase.
She reached and withdrew a small revolver that she somehow managed to keep hidden under her short skirt that clung to her curves. "Tony brought it in for me." She said but continued at his raised brows a bit defensively, "Well, maybe not knowingly, he may have been a bit distracted, along with the rest of your guards." She added with a smile.
Leon grimaced and Aurora smiled, "I shall see you later, Leon."
Leon nodded and Aurora took the handle of her suitcase and exited.
Chapter Three: Gibbs, Meet Natasha
Outside of the office, Natasha got a young male agent to carry her suitcase for her down the stairs, whom she thanked with her Russian accent firmly in place. As she walked down the hallway she saw Timothy and his team and paused for a moment. In that moment Ziva looked up and made some comment to Tony which caused him to jump and Ziva to laugh. Tony then made a comment to Timothy causing him to blush profusely. Just then, a silver haired man came striding in from the opposite direction, barking, "DiNozzo! Stop harassing McGee!"
Tony jerked his head up exclaiming, "What boss? Sorry boss! No torturing the McProbie boss! Got it!" Timothy gave Tony a dark glare and Ziva laughed.
At this time Natasha chose to stride into the center of the bullpen and look to the silver haired man who immediately turned his attention to her. She stood there, seemingly uncomfortable, before the silver haired man growled, "Can I help you with something?"
Natasha bit her lip, "Er, yes? You are Timothy's boss, yes?" Russian accent heavy.
"I am. Can I help you?" He said, staring her directly in the eye.
"May—be? I am an old friend of Timothy's. We met when I was in college. Timothy was my tutor. We lost touch and I was wondering if he could escort me to lunch for an hour if he is not busy? I met him earlier with Tony was escorting me to an appointment I held. I would like to, er, get back? With him?"
Timothy groaned and muttered, "Catch up."
The boss turned to DiNozzo and barked, "This true DiNozzo?"
"What boss?" The man gave a blatant stare at Natasha, "Oh! Sorry boss! Yeah boss! I escorted the lovely Ms. Natasha Trotsky to her appointment with our esteemed director and McProbie recognized her."
"Okay McGee." The boss said.
"What?" Timothy questioned, looking utterly confused.
"Okay, you can go to lunch with your friend."
"Oh! Thanks boss!" Timothy said, jumping to his feet and pulling his jacket off the back of his chair.
Natasha had a puzzled look come over her face at Timothy's rushing and asked, "Timothy, are you not going to introduce your team member?"
"What?" He asked wide eyed, "Sorry Natasha. This is my boss, Special Agent Gibbs."
Gibbs eyed McGee and his introduction warily but offered a hand, "Leroy Jethro Gibbs."
"Natasha Marie Trotsky." Natasha said, copying his full named introduction and shaking his hand lightly. Timothy coughed and Natasha smirked at how edgy he seemed by the introduction.
"Well, we'll be going." Timothy stated, taking Natasha's bag in hand and offering her his arm.
"Of course." Natasha said kindly, "It was nice meeting you Agent Gibbs, Agent David, Tony."
Ziva nodded and Tony gave her a charismatic smile. Gibbs took a seat at his desk, looking thoughtful, the pair got in the elevator and as soon as the doors closed Gibbs was on his phone saying, "Abbs, get me everything you can on a Natasha Marie Trotsky. Tutored by McGee a couple of years ago when she was attending a local college. Russian."
Chapter Four: Twitchy McGee
"…He makes you jump." Aurora said, laughing.
"Huh?"
"Your boss, he makes you twitchy, Timothy."
"It's Gibbs!" Timothy protested, "He always finds out everything! He sneaks up on you! Trying to hide something from him is like trying to hide a steak from a bloodhound!"
Aurora kissed his cheek, "Well you did very well." She said consolingly, "Now, take my guns past security for me." She ordered.
"Aurora!"
Chapter 5: Read In
"…Natasha Marie Andrickovna Trotsky, born and raised in Novgorod, Russia. Her parents are Andrick Aleksandrovitch Trotsky and Marie Natal'ya Mikhailovna Trotsky, formerly Akopov. Her father is a private tutor in the town and a former professor and seems to be well respected in the scholarly community. Her mother appears be a housewife. Her father was treated in a hospital in Moscow for type two diabetes two years ago. She is twenty one years old. Umm, Gibbs the girl is a genius, literally. At the age of fourteen she was tested to have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory. She can read up to 21,000 words per minute. At fourteen she was accepted, full ride to the Moscow State University. During her years studying she was accepted in many foreign exchange programs and has been to over twenty different countries, studying, in the time span of seven years. She first earned a masters in Philosophy, then Sociology, when she met McGee she was eighteen and studying for her masters in Phycology at the American University here in DC. He tutored her in American customs and computers for the quarter she attended here." A bit of jealousy seemed to burn in Abby's voice but she continued, "She moved from an apartment that she had in Moscow to St. Petersburg two years ago. It seems she was invited to lecture on philosophy and sociology. She also has a BA in criminal justice. She was recently in the UK for a month before coming to the States two days ago; she flew in from London to DC. But that's not all Gibbs!"
"Abbs!" Gibbs protested against the stream of information.
"No Gibbs! Wait! I found something hinky!"
There was a pause of silence until Gibbs burst out, "And!"
"What?"
"Something hinky? Abbs?"
"Oh, right! Hinky! Well, it all seemed too perfect right? I mean, little Miss Perfect Russian Girl, extremely intelligent and traveling the world, being invite to some of the world's top colleges! So I dug! And here's what I found! In between her studies and traveling she would sometimes disappear!"
"Disappear?"
"Completely. No purchases. No information. No nothing. So I dug even farther. I found mysterious deposits from nowhere traceable into both her and her parent's banking accounts. I mean I tried to trace them! But nothing! Gibbs, do you know how hard it is to deposit money without being traced at all! It's impossible! Or at least it should be! So I dug even further and found little Miss Perfect isn't so perfect. She's got connections and sightings with her and some very sketchy people. Some is like, low time black market, but as I looked further I round reported mob bosses and assassins and the like! Gibbs, she knows some seriously scary people! She's been held by police in France, the UK, Canada, Russia, Serbia, Egypt, and Germany. Each time she's held she's always released, no charges made. The only files that exist are that they brought her in. No mentions of even what for or what's suspected. Every time she gets off Gibbs! So either she knows someone very powerful in politics who can get her off in every country she's been held in or—"
"Or she knows a very powerful criminal individual or organization who can get her off and wipe her records clean." Gibbs finished, "Thanks Abbs." At that moment the elevator doors opened and McGee came in with a stupid smile on his face and lipstick smudged on his cheek.
He took his seat and clicked on something, before beginning to type rapidly. Suddenly Gibbs's phone rang and he answered with a, "Gibbs." Aware that his entire team tensed for action the moment his phone rang. He shut his phone and stood, beginning to walk rapidly to the elevator, he called, "Grab your gear!" He would have to think on the mystery of Natasha Trotsky later.
Chapter Six: Meet Rider. Alex Rider.
"Bentley." Aurora answered her phone, leaving from a side entrance to the hotel and hailing a cab. As she climbed in she ordered the cabbie, "The St. Regis, please."
"Bentley. Who's there?" She questioned again.
"Aurora?" A male voice asked.
"Rider? I mean Alex! God! You scared me, why didn't you speak up before?"
"Sorry, I was getting away from some suits. I hate the CIA."
Aurora smiled, "As do I. Natasha met with the Director today. The meeting went well. I'm going in later to meet with the Director and try to get in with Gibbs and his team.
"Really? That's good." There were now sounds of traffic in the background. "Do you have a vehicle of your own yet?"
"No. My babies are shipping to LA. I'm in a cab now. How are you getting around?"
"Rental. Aston Martin." His British accent sounding only a little bit smug. "You heading to the Regis?" He questioned.
"Yep. My luggage was sent ahead of me and I'm going to go check in. Presidential, right?"
"Yeah, I called in a favor. You got master bedroom."
"What? But you've been here for way longer than I have!"
"I've been in and out. It's fine. I'm heading to the Regis now, I'll meet you in the room."
"Alright. Au revoir11. See you in a bit."
He laughed, "Ciao!12"
11 Goodbye (French)
12 Goodbye! (Italian)
Chapter Seven: Glamour
The door was opened for her and she was given a hand in assisting her out while someone else fetched her suitcase from the trunk. She made her way to the concierge and pushed her large Christian Dior sunglasses on the top of her head and spoke in her light British voice, "Aurora Bentley. Presidential Suite."
"Of course, welcome to the St. Regis Ms. Bentley. Here is your key. Mr. Rider has already taken care of the paperwork. Joseph will escort you." The concierge, a young man wearing an expensive suit said, gesturing to a handsome young butler who had her suitcase on a cart.
Aurora nodded and followed the butler like any woman of high society would. Once they reached the room, doors were opened in front of her, and Aurora gave orders to the butler, "Leave that suitcase packed. I won't be needing anything in it."
"Of course ma'am." The butler responded and brought the suitcase to the master bedroom.
Aurora began to examine the room with a critical but impressed eye.
"May I help you with anything ma'am?" The butler asked, returning.
"Yes, a glass of ice water, one lemon please." She responded just as the doors opened and a handsome Alex Rider came striding in dressed in Armani, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, blue eyes sparkling.
"Alex." She greeted as he strode forward and grasped her hands in greeting.
"Aurora." He said as he brushed a kiss against her cheek, "You look lovely. It has been too long."
"Ah, such is the nature of business." She replied as a butler helped him to remove his suit jacket and went to hang it. As he loosened his tie as she took a seat and accepted the water brought.
"May I get you anything sir?"
"Ice water, one lime, too early in the day for drinking." Alex responded, only sparing the butler a glance.
"Of course sir."
"Your credentials came through?" Alex questioned.
"Of course. Everything is in order." She said with a smile as Alex accepted his water with a nod of thanks.
"You said something about a meeting with the Director?"
"Yes, Natasha met with him this morning, you and I can go in this afternoon."
"We'll take my car. Excuse me?" He said, calling the attention of a butler.
"Yes sir?"
"Have my car pulled around in twenty minutes." He said tossing the keys to the butler, who surprisingly managed to catch them.
"Of course sir."
"I'm going to freshen up before we leave." Aurora said, rising and handing her glass off to the butler.
Alex nodded and took out his cell, "Of course, I have a call to make anyways."
Aurora nodded and went to her room.
When she emerged Alex was off of his cell and actually having a conversation with a butler who left upon the emergence of Aurora to fetch his suit jacket. Aurora came out, strawberry blonde hair coifed in an elegant French twist, makeup, just enough to enhance her features and bring out her wide emerald eyes. An elegant black Dolce & Gabbana pants suit clothed her with a crisp red v-neck blouse on underneath. A pair of red Jimmy Choo kitten heels embraced her feet and clicked lightly as she moved forward.
"Beautiful, my dear." Alex commented nicely as he grasped her manicured nails, which now sported a fresh French manicure on nails that were long, but not extremely so, and gently rounded. "Great attention to detail." He murmured and Aurora was the only one who recognized the meaning behind his words.
"Well, let us be off. Merci." She said to the butlers who opened the door for the pair.
Chapter Eight: Who Are the Suits?
"Who are the suits?" DiNozzo questioned as he pulled the car into the parking lot where a pair was getting out of an Aston Martin that had him drooling. It was top of the line.
"I do not know Tony." Ziva responded, "And quite personally, I do not care."
Tony was eyeing the red head that was dressed expensively and walked with a strong stride that drew attention to both her and the blonde man who appeared to have expensive taste as well. "Is that Armani?" He asked Ziva but to both agents surprise it was McGee who spoke up.
"I think so, looks like it's from this previous winter's line." He said, eyeing both the suits.
"Well, McKnowledgable, who is he? Since you seem to know everyone today." DiNozzo responded smartly.
"That's Agent Rider, he's been acting at NCIS's liaison with the CIA for the past six months or so. I'm guessing that position has timed out and that's his new partner."
Now both Tony and Ziva turned and stared at McGee.
"What?" He asked, "We go to the same coffee place and sometimes talk. I'm surprised you haven't noticed him meeting with the Director almost weekly."
"How do you keep track of who's meeting with the Director McProbie?" DiNozzo demanded.
McGee looked irritated, "Maybe I am just more observant than you DiNozzo."
"He's got you there, Tony," Ziva jibed.
"I am an intuitive investigator and have excellent observational skills!" Tony protested only to jump at Gibbs growl from behind him.
"That so, Dinozzo?"
"Yes boss!" DiNozzo snapped out on reflex and then pointedly ignored the snickers of his fellow coworkers.
Chapter Nine: Enter Bentley and Rider
A flip of their badges got them past security, no hassle, and the two made their way through NCIS and up to the director's office. "Rider and Bentley for the Director." Was Alex's smooth British accent which had the secretary fluttering and pressing a button, calling the director.
"Send them in." The director ordered.
They entered and Alex shook Leon's hand and Aurora kissed his cheek in greeting, exclaiming, "Leon!" Which had him chuckling.
"I noticed Gibbs's team coming in," Aurora commented, "That means they got a case?"
"Petty officer found dead on base at Quantico." Leon said. "I can tell him you're just there to observe until you find something to tie yourselves in further. Rider, you can sit this one out if you wish, it's Aurora who's been begging."
"Thank you sir, but I'll join Ro, it'll be entertaining at the very least." Alex replied evenly, with a touch of a smirk at the end, which had Aurora backhanding him.
"Very well. Here's your papers to get you in with Gibbs." Leon said, handing them a file, "Good luck. With Gibbs, you'll need it."
Chapter Ten: Past Ghost
Gibbs glared down the pair of suits who had handed them a file. Things were becoming hinky, as Abby would say, at NCIS with the director; first with Trotsky, now with this pair. Irritated, he gestured harshly to a pair of desks that were far out of the way. The woman, Bentley, seemed to bound over lightly, as if excited, while Rider followed her at a more relaxed pace.
"Boss! You can't be thinking of letting them in on the investigation!" DiNozzo protested.
Gibbs wanted to smack him. "Bentley and Rider have papers from the Director ordering them to observe our team." He growled. "McGee, what do you have?"
"Have? Right boss." McGee snapped up and crossed the space to the plasma, where he clicked and images began appearing.
"Petty Officer Ryan O'Kelly was a low level paper pusher stationed at Quantico. No tours. No sensitive information. No incriptions on his file. Nothing. No real reason why someone would want him dead, boss."
"Girlfriends?" Gibbs barked.
At this point Ziva stood, "I just got off the phone with Commander Harris of Quantico, O'Kelly's supervisor, the boy was a loner. No friends, no girlfriends as far as Harris could tell, and no family. He was an only child and both of his parents died four years ago in a car crash."
"Boss, it says here that his hair is blonde."
"That so DiNozzo." Gibbs drawled, to state the obvious.
"Yeah boss, but our body has black hair, but it is still recognizably O'Kelly. So that means—" DiNozzo was cut off by Gibbs striding away saying, "His hair was dyed."
Rider and Bentley jumped up and managed to make the elevator barely. They followed Gibbs's quick strides into Autopsy, ignoring his obvious dislike for them.
"What do you have for me Duck?" Gibbs barked at the older gentlemen who was tending the body of O'Kelly as a young spidery man scuttled out of his way.
"Jethro!" The gentlemen exclaimed, "Our young O'Kelly seems to be a man of mystery."
"Yeah Duck, well solve him." Gibbs responded testily.
"Company?" The gentlemen questioned, ignoring Gibbs's ire.
"Rider and Bentley. Sent to observe by the Director." He introduced shortly, jerking his head to introduce the two.
"I am Dr. Donald Mallard," He offered his hand but retracted it once he realized the dead O'Kelly's blood still reside on his gloves.
"Charmed, I am Special Agent Aurora Bentley, this is my partner, Special Agent Alex Rider."
"Pleasure, Dr." Rider greeted, nodding his head.
"Oh please my dear boy! Call me Ducky! Yes, it's a childhood nickname that when received, was rather unwelcome, but now I find I quite like it. I—"
"Duck!" Gibbs interrupted, "O'Kelly!"
"Oh, right," Ducky began, "This poor young man was in good health when he died. There are no defensive wounds, it seems, Jethro, that he was taken from behind when his throat was cut. And judging by the deepness of the cut, the attacker was rather forceful. The boy's carotid arteries as well as his jugular were severed by the cut and the poor lad probably bled out in a manner of minutes. Yes, a rather gruesome end, in fact, it reminds me of—"
"Ducky! His hair?"
"What? His hair? I sent a sample up to Abby. It seems it was dyed post-mortem, which means that someone—"
"Spent time with the body after he was killed to clean him up. The body was moved after death, we could tell. But he was returned to the spot he was killed, why?"
"Maybe someone wanted to send a message, Jethro, it reminds me—"
He broke off as Aurora approached the body, pulling on a pair of latex gloves as she did so, "Forgive me, Agent Gibbs, Ducky, but I might recognize something. This reminds me of a case I worked while I was in the field in Russia." Noting the permission she saw in the eyes of Gibbs, she continued, "There was an assassin there, who was highly skilled in locating the body's main arteries and having his victims bleed out in a manner of minutes. His signature was a tattoo he made, post mortem, on the back of a victim's head. As the more of his kills were being found, he would dye the hair of his victims to hide the finding of the tattoo until further along in the investigation, giving him a chance to slip away."
Gibbs noted that the further along in Bentley's story she got, the tenser Rider became.
"If I'm correct, there should be a tattoo on the back of his head, a small tattoo of a scorpion, Ducky, if you could turn his head to the side for me?"
Ducky moved forward, and gently as he could, turned the young man's head to the right so that the back of his head was to the left and facing Aurora.
"Rider, light." She ordered and Gibbs allowed Rider to pass him and remove a small tube of a flashlight from his pocket. Rider clicked it on and shined it the particular place where Bentley framed with her hands. There, hiding on the victim's scalp, was a clearly discernable outline of a red scorpion, clearly seen through the military shave haircut of the man.
"Camera?" Bentley questioned and Gibbs took the offered camera from Palmer and snapped several shots. "Take these photos to your forensic specialist." Bentley said as Gibbs gave the order to the assistant, Palmer, to take the camera to an 'Abby.'
"That assassin of yours, was he ever caught?" Gibbs asked.
Aurora breathed in deeply and opening her eyes, let it out, "No."
"An entire family was picked off one by one." Rider intoned, "No forensic evidence. No surveillance footage. No witnesses. The case quickly went cold."
"You were in the field in Russia?" Gibbs asked Rider.
"I was called in after the second killing. The assassin managed to get past the protection that was offered to the family by the Russian police and M16." Rider said coldly, "A family of seven, grandmother, mother, father, and four children, the oldest being nineteen and the youngest, six. All killed in the same manner. One by one. All with the same tattoo."
"He went from youngest to oldest, for the most part." Bentley told, her voice detached, "The father was a contact of mine. The first body was found in the child's bed. The second was dumped in the neighborhood square. The third was found in the child's classroom. After the case was shut down, my contacts closed off, I was unable to make any new contacts in the city and surrounding towns as well. Word gets around and pretty soon I was forced to take a different assignment."
Rider placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke, "We were M16 operatives. Bentley was an operative for seven years in the field. I was an operative for four years in the field. We left M16 and became Agents for NCIS." He removed his hand from her shoulder and turned to go, "I will get permission from the Director to fully read you in."
Gibbs nodded.
Aurora peeled off her gloves and began to scrub her hands in the sink. With her back to the men she began, "This case has haunted me for three years. I knew that family, I cooked with them, ate dinner with them, played games with the children, and one morning I get a call from the father. He is panicked and I can here crying in the background. He tells me—" Here she broke off as her fists clenched and she drew in a long, steadying breath, "He tells me that the youngest, his little girl, lies in her bed, dead, not only dead, but murdered. They hadn't called the police yet, and he's asking me what to do—I tell him to leave the room and call the police and that I will be over there as soon as I can. I was never able to do anything, and in the end, I was unable to save any of them."
She dried her hands and turned around and looked the deathly serious Gibbs in the eye, "I will catch this bastard. He will not slip away this time." With that, she turned and strode out of the room and took the stairs to give herself time to steady her throbbing nerves.
"What do you think Duck?"
"About what Jethro? Agent Bentley? She seems to be a determined young woman with much hard-learned experience behind her."
Gibbs eyed him.
"You know, she reminds me of someone, a person who is a dear friend of mine. Honorable, strict, willing to do what the job requires, a burdened past—"
Gibbs began to stride out, "Don't turn it into an opera Duck."
"She reminds me of you Jethro!" Ducky called after him, just as the doors to autopsy shut. Ducky sighed and turned to the body, "Well, maybe you'll listen to me…"
Chapter Eleven: The Real Read In
Alex watched Aurora disappear into the women's restroom and after a period of time with her not emerging, he ignored the sign and walked in. Aurora was in front of the sink, lightly splashing her face with water.
"You know you'll wash all your make-up off that way." He said wryly, startling her and making her whirl around and glare.
"There's a sign and unless you've done something recently that you haven't told me about, you're not supposed to be in here!" She hissed.
"Good to know your humor is still intact." He lightly responded. He crossed the room and pulled out several paper towels and handed them to her, noting that even in her distress she had hung her suit jacket on one of the stalls and rolled up her sleeves before diving into the sink. She silently took the offered paper towels and began to carefully dab at her face.
"Won't your makeup in fact come off?" He questioned.
"No." She said petulantly, "Its water-proof."
"Ah," He nodded his head as if that explained it all, which to him as a man, maybe it did.
"You need to get your heart out of this Ro, if the Director starts to think you're getting too involved he'll pull you from the case. Use your head not –"
"—Not my heart. I know! But for heaven's sake Alex, you were there, you saw what he did to little Marie, tiny Marie!" A single tear coursed down her cheek and he gently leaned down and pulled her firmly into a hug. She rested her head against his chest and a strangled sob made her shake.
"I know, I know, I was there. I was there." He soothed, slowly soothing her nerves and calming her. "But the only way you can do anything about it now is if you get yourself together." As he felt her still he released her. "I have permission from the Director to read Gibbs's entire team in and have them sign contracts to not release the information given to them on pain of prosecution by the United States' court system."
Aurora nodded and fetched three small containers of lipstick, mascara, and concealer from her suit jacket. She steadily reapplied her makeup, erasing any signs of previous tears almost completely. She rolled down her sleeves and replaced the containers in their original pocket. Alex assisted her in sliding on her suit jacket.
She cracked the door and peered out, thanking God that no one besides Alex had witnessed her meltdown and exited, Alex following closely behind her.
"Conference room two. The Director has ensured we won't be interrupted; the entire team should be there already. If I'm correct you haven't met Abigail Sciuto the forensic specialist.
Aurora nodded and schooled her face blank as she entered, with Alex holding the door open for her and coming in afterwards. The seat on the right side of the table; closest to door held Gibbs, with Ducky across from him, next to Gibbs sat a goth girl with spider web tattoo on the left side of her neck and her black hair in pigtails, next to Ducky was Palmer, next to the goth girl was DiNozzo, next to Palmer was McGee, and next to McGee was David.
(Conference Table Arrangement
Ziva David l l
Timothy McGee l Table l Anthony DiNozzo
James Palmer l l Abigail Sciuto
Donald Mallard l Table l Jethro Gibbs
Alex Rider Aurora Bentley)
Bentley took the file from Rider and opened it, removing the seven contracts from it and placing them before each occupant of the room as she told her instructions, "In order for you to be allowed to be read in on this case you must sign a confidentiality contract, agreeing to not release any of the information being released in today's read-in on pain of prosecution by the United States' Courts. In order for you to continue to work on this case, these contracts must be signed."
Ziva, who had been scanning through asked, "Under torture?"
"You must never reveal any information being released in this read-in under any circumstances." Bentley responded stonily, "If that is a problem, you may leave."
Ziva stared her in the eye and then lowered her gaze to quickly sign her signature on the line and handed the contract to Rider. All of the other members of the room signed, some hesitantly, others (Ducky and Gibbs) with immediate compliance.
"For those of you who are unaware, I am Senior Agent Aurora Bentley. This is my partner, Agent Alex Rider. Both of us are former SIS operatives of Britain who have since left M16 and joined NCIS. I was an operative in the field for seven years. Rider was an operative in the field for four years. Both of us are eighteen years old."
The two young agents waited and watched as this news sank in. Suddenly DiNozzo let out, "Good joke!" Both of their gazes turned cold.
"I assure you this is no joke Agent DiNozzo." Bentley replied harshly. "On March 11th 2004, a boating accident killed my parents, Nadia and Oliver Bentley. I later found out that the boat my parents were on was shot up by a terrorist organization that my parents had taken on. As a child it was quickly realized that I had intelligence above average. I was tested at the age of four to have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, the ability to read 20,500 words per minute, and a gift for languages. I was home schooled by some of the best teachers and tutors available. My family was an older family and had inherited wealth. By the age of eleven I could fluently speak and write over 15 languages. On March 28th I was invited to the bank front of M16's Liverpool Street headquarters. Then I was formally introduced to M16 and invited to take on where my parents had left off. At this point in time I had already trained in dueling, bow, arms, jujitsu, judo, tae kwon do, kung fu, languages, diplomacy, etiquette, culture, religions, horseback, and a bit of ballet by private instructors. I was trained for two weeks under M16 and the SAS before it was determined that I was ready to be sent into the field. On April 13th, 2004 I became Natasha Trotsky. Andrick and Marie Trotsky had been friends of my parents. Their daughter had died in a swimming accident one week prior and M16 convinced them to bury their true daughter in secret and allow their friend's daughter to take her place for 'her own safety.' In that moment I went from eleven year old Aurora Bentley to fourteen year old Natasha Trotsky, M16 spy."
The faces reflected back at her were horrified, sympathetic, sickened, and stunned.
"Rider shares a similar story. At a young age his father, who worked undercover field work for M16, and his mother were killed. He was left in the care of his uncle who was also secretly a M16 operative who decided to unwittingly prepare his nephew for the same role. At the age of fourteen Rider's uncle was killed. M16, having success with me and wishing to have similar success, invited fourteen year old Alex Rider to pick up where his uncle's work had left off. He received little training and was thrown into his role. Although he showed much intuitive in the field, he wasn't as highly advanced as I and managed to get himself into several 'situations' in which he often received little aid from M16."
To Bentley's surprise the goth forensic specialist burst out, "How could they? Why would you?"
She gave a cold smile and responded, "They did what they did for the 'greater good.' An eleven year old girl who has been fairly isolated her entire life is told that her parents are dead and that they have been preparing her to take on their role. Over time, said girl realizes she is being used. By this point it is too late. Her only guardian, her elderly great-grandmother, is more taken care of than taking care of her. M16 threatens investigation and removal to foster care, girl remains in line. Fourteen year old boy told his uncle has died and that his uncle has been preparing him to take over the family business. Spying. By the time the boy realizes he is being used it is too late. His only guardian, his former housekeeper, a kind American woman by the name of Jack is living in the UK on a green card, card threatened to be revoked, boy stays in line."
The goth woman looks about ready to burst into ranting but Bentley holds up a hand to hold her tongue.
"Handler makes a mistake, wants the boy to further his skills so pairs him up with the girl in the same boat as he. The girl has been spending several years building up contacts and gathering blackmail and recording information. She teaches the boy to do the same. While they both wait for the age of eighteen so that the threat of foster care no longer looms they both gather contacts, allies, information, and blackmail. Eighteen comes for the boy and a threat of releasing this information to the public has M16 under the boy's thumb. Alliances come through and the boy is granted dual citizenship between the US and Britain, has facial reconstructive surgery performed in order to prevent enemies from recognizing him in his new line of work, and Rider is working for NCIS, waiting six months for his partner to do the same."
Now the eyes look on the pair in shock and in admiration. Rider took this break in the flow of information to pass out thick files to each member in the room.
"The smaller file is the read-in on both Operation Saint and the Scorpion Assassin incident, both of which occurred in St. Petersburg, Russia. That file may leave this room." Bentley told, "The thicker file is a general briefing on the operations performed by both Agent Rider and myself."
Rider clicked the remote and the plasma filled with the image of a general map of St. Petersburg and the surrounding area with red, orange, and yellow dots arranged in seemingly random patterns.
Bentley began briefing, "Operation Saint was a solo operation that I was issued by M16 in the guise of Natasha Trotsky. In April of 2008, 18 year old Natasha Trotsky was sent to St. Petersburg to build up contacts to bring in information on the terrorist organizations that were said to have operatives and contacts in the area. The main organization we were trying to get intel on was that of SCORPIA, for those of you who may not be aware, due to the level that SCORPIA operates at, SCORPIA stands for—"
"—Sabotage, CORuPtion, Intelligence, and Assasination." Ziva interrupted seriously.
Bentley nodded, "That is correct, I am assuming a background in Mussaud?"
Ziva nodded, "I came to NCIS as a liaison for Mussaud. I am now an NCIS agent."
"M16 and Mussaud have worked several operations together in dealing with SCORPIA." Aurora said, "There have been several incidents with SCORPIA and M16 in recent years. Several of these incidents have crossed paths with both Rider and I. SCORPIA is a major fear for M16 and many major intelligence agencies around the world." Bentley cleared her throat and returned to the original subject, "I managed to build up trust in the surrounding community. In acting as Natasha Trotsky I met a man by the name of Aleksander Kroskov. Kroskov was the manager of a casino and hotel by the name of Thirteen that catered to local and international personal in St. Petersburg. Thirteen was also a suspected meeting place and neutral ground for several different underground groups. Kroskov never had any trouble with his customers which is surprising, considering some of the suspected cliental. It was rumored that Kroskov's great grandfather may have been involved with SCORPIA. I got to know Kroskov and he knew that deals went down at Thirteen. Eventually I revealed that Natasha Trotsky was a contact of M16 and that M16 wished to make him a contact as well. Natasha Trotsky became a 'friend' of the Kroskov family and their 'go-between' with M16. On May 14th, Marie Kroskov, Aleksander's six year old daughter was found murdered in her bed. Her neck had been deeply cut, with both of her carotid arteries as well as her jugular was severed. On the back of her head was a scorpion tattoo, made through her hair post-mortem."
Behind Bentley on the plasma, Rider clicked through several photos. One showed a young girl in a blood soaked nightgown lain out on her bed, eyes shut and mouth slightly parted. Abby squeezed her eyes shut. The next photo showed the body on a metal slab and was zoomed in on the slit throat.
Bentley kept her eyes dead ahead, "The cut was made by a ZT9 Shanker Saber military Bayonet Camping knife. " An image of said knife appeared on the screen. "The police were called to handle the case. There was no indication that the murder was tied to anything but a random murder. When Anastasia Kroskov, age nine, was found in the exact same manner in the neighborhood courtyard the next day, Alex Rider was called in for M16. Protection was offered to the Kroskov family by both Russian police and M16. Police and M16 decided for a joint operation in protective custody. The third child, Nikolas Kroskov, age fifteen was kidnapped from the safe house and found dead in the exact same manner in his classroom. A toxicology report found him to be drugged with chloroform. Aleksandria, age nineteen was at school in Moscow and found in a park. She was an adult and had refused protective custody. When she was found she had a much shallower knife wound and probably bled out slower. Her hair had been died black and her bag was spilled out beside her, her jewelry missing. It appeared to be a mugging gone wrong."
"Kroskov's mother-in-law, Valadina Petrov, was a stubborn woman," Rider began, "Fed up with the situation, she left the house to go to church. Two police men were ordered to tail her. Somewhere in the church she was kidnapped, her body was found two days later in Samara, her hair was dyed black. It wasn't until three days later that the Jane Doe in Samara was connected to what had been nicknamed the Scorpion Murders."
"When was the murder of the eldest daughter connected to the other Kroskovs's murders?" Ziva questioned.
"When the ME in Samara got to the body and found the tattoo through the hair dye and contacted the police in St. Petersburg. By this point the media had gotten wind of what was going on. A similar tattoo was found on 19 year old Miss. Trotsky by an ME after being contacted by St. Petersburg's police." Rider replied.
Bentley continued the briefing, "Exactly one week after the Valadina was found dead in Samara, and four days after the tattoos were found on the last two victims, Aleksander and Marxiana were found dead in the safe house they had been moved too. They had retired to watch television and had asked not to be disturbed from their bedroom. It appears that the assassin had been waiting in the attic before the security even arrived. The attic stairs descended into the closet of the bedroom they were staying in. It appears the assailant held a gun to Marxiana to get Aleksander to cooperate. It appears Aleksander tied his own gag and cuffed feet and hands, after which, Marxiana was killed in the exact same fashion as the others. There was ligature marks on both his ankles and wrists. The tattoo was found on their chests rather than the backs of their heads. There was more detail than the other tattoos but it was the same handiwork. It appears the assailant exited the safe house from the roof. No forensic evidence was found and the case was closed one week later on June 2nd." Bentley concluded.
Both Rider and Bentley stood at the front of the room to let the details sink in, "All of this is in the case files." Rider concluded, "We'll leave you to have a chance to go through them and come back in an hour and retrieved the classified files we have given all of you."
Gibbs nodded and the two of them exited.
Chapter Twelve
"Gibbs," Abby breathed, her voice horrified.
"Read through the files on Rider and Bentley," Gibbs ordered, "The others can wait."
Abby huffed and her brow crinkled before she turned her attention to her files. The room was unnaturally silent as they all read the files, the only noise was the occasional flip of papers or someone shifting their weight.
After a half hour had passed of nothing but reading Gibbs said, "Alright," Bringing everyone's attention to him he asked, "McGee, how'd you meet Bentley? Rider?"
McGee cleared his throat, "I met Natasha Trotsky as the foreign exchange student I was to tutor at the American University here in DC. I had just joined their list of tutors because it gave me access to the University library. However, after two months of knowing Natasha and becoming friends with her we were caught in a shower of bullets coming out of the coffee shop we met at. Natasha ducked and dragged me across the way behind a car. She was removing a gun just as I was removing mine and she tells me in a British accent, 'Aurora Bentley, CIA.' And I responded with, 'NCIS,' and she nods and says, 'Shooter's somewhere high up, probably window? I'm going to move closer, cover me?' And I covered her as she ran closer to the apartment building that's just to the left about half a block. I got the general location of the shooter and tell her, 'Top floor, towards the right.' She nods, jumps up, three shots fired, one hits and the excitement's over. After it all happened, her handler within the CIA was contacted and I was sworn to secrecy."
Everyone blinked in surprise at the Bonds-like tale and Gibbs simply asked, "Rider?"
"Much less extreme," McGee responded, "It's true that we go to the same coffee shop, I recognized him from around NCIS and asked him and he told me."
Gibbs nodded, "Ziver, what do you know about SCORPIA."
Ziva's expression darkened, "They operate on a level of secrecy that is almost unheard of in a terrorist organization of their size. Intelligence agencies that are good at what they do are lucky to be able to find out if an act is connected in any way to SCORPIA or not. Agencies that often have encountered SCORPIA related issues are M16, Mussaud, CIA, and the SVR. SCORPIA is a dangerous organization because they train highly skilled and highly intelligent individuals to become criminals in specific fields. As far as Mussaud is aware, SCORPIA will train individuals and then allow them to work freelance and will occasionally give jobs to those they have trained."
Gibbs nodded with a dark expression. "This case will be headed by Bentley." He stated seriously.
"Why?" Abby broke out unable to control herself, "I mean I understand that she dealt with the guy in Russia, and it's awful what happened, but the Director gave you this case Gibbs, I mean, he practically—"
She was cut off suddenly by Tony barking, "Abbs! Rule 38!"
Abby blinked and then her eyes widened as she connected what Tony's statement meant. "Oh." And her brow crinkled and then she whined, "But Gibbs, we don't even know Bentley! I mean, we don't even know if—"
This time it was Gibbs who cut her off, "Do you trust me Abbs?"
"Of course Gibbs, but—!"
"No buts Abbs, trust me on this. We. Can. Trust. Bentley." He said slowly, enunciating.
"How do you know?" Ziva questioned suspiciously.
"It's a gut feeling." Gibbs said as he rose and made to leave the room, "Well what are you doing? Come on?" He barked and his team jumped into action as he left the room with a wry smile on his face.
Chapter Thirteen: Your Case, Your Lead!
Gibbs entered the bullpen barking, "Bentley? Where do you want us?"
Her eyes widened and she questioned, "—Want you?" Sounding slightly dazed.
"Rule 38." He barked.
But she continued looking confused until Tony called out to her as he entered the bullpen, "Your case, your lead!" She gave Tony an appreciative smile and straightened her shoulders as Ziva and Tim entered the premises.
"What do you have on the case so far?" She barked going to stand in front of the plasma on the wall. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her feet stood slightly apart in the form of most soldiers. She stood with the experience of a drill sergeant expecting her orders to be followed.
"Petty Officer Ryan O'Kelly." McGee began, surprising the rest of his team with his prompt response, "Born to an average middle class family. Entered the navy at the age of nineteen. He was twenty six years old. He spent his seven years in the navy, besides training, stationed as a bottom of the food barrel paper pusher at Quantico. Good worker. Never any complaints against him. No girlfriends. No friends. His parents died four years ago in a car crash and because he was an only child, as were both of his parents, no family. There were no incriptions on any of his files and nothing to suggest that he ever really came across any kind of sensitive information."
Where McGee broke off, Ziva continued, "His supervisor, Commander Harris gave the impression of a hard worker who got all of his work done and more but a bit of a loner. It was suggested by the Commander that his status as a loner and his antisocial skills lead to him never moving up in the chain of command. He got his work done well but besides that, the boy was a bit of a rock-flower."
"Wall-flower, Ziva, wall-flower." Tony groaned.
"Finances?" Bentley questioned.
McGee once again rose to the bat, "Nothing out of the ordinary. No large deposits. No big buys. No off-shore accounts. He had a few investments but they seemed to have gone south matching the dip in the economy. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Kid's so ordinary, he's boring." Tony stated derisively.
"'Kid's' dead." Rider said sharply.
"I mean anything –" Tony began.
"DiNozzo." Bentley barked, "Forget it. Rider. Drop it. Gibbs?"
Gibbs blinked, thinking, She's good, but opened his mouth and smoothly began reporting, "His carotid arteries as well as his jugular were severed. The cut that was made was so deep it came close to his spinal cord. That means that his attacker had to have both the strength as well as the experience to severe his neck in such a way."
"—As well as the means to dye the hair and tattoo the skull." Bentley added frowning.
"No forensic evidence?" David asked.
"So far, none." Rider answered.
"Which means he must have the skill to leave none." McGee said.
"Where could he have learned? This all shows that he's been taught how to assassinate in such a way." David asked.
"With the scorpion tattoo, I would say SCORPIA first and foremost." Bentley said, "But as Rider can attest, even SCORPIA's training isn't as extensive as this."
"SCORPIA is thorough in their training. But not like this. They like a clean entrance and a clean exit. Quick and clean. This assassin may be working for SCORPIA, but he wasn't trained by them." Rider said, eyes dark.
"Wait, you trained with SCORPIA?" DINozzo questioned with a narrowed gaze.
"Yes," Rider responded shortly, "My entrance was not on purpose, I can assure you, but the knowledge gained was, well, informative to say the least."
There was a moment's silence before Bentley mused aloud, "So he's using SCORPIA's symbol but was not trained by them. Trying to throw us off the trail?"
"Trying to make us focus in on SCORPIA instead of him, most likely." Gibbs said as Bentley, Rider, and David nodded in agreement.
"I can get in touch with some of my contacts and see if they've heard anything about a scorpion killer." David suggested.
Bentley nodded her permission, "Do it." She commanded, "Rider, make sure all access is cleared for Gibbs's team in everything dealing with Operation Saint, along with the Scorpion Incident Report. McGee, go through any computer connections for the St. Op. and Scorpion Report and see if anything pops up for D.C. and Petty Officer O'Kelly. DiNozzo, go and talk to O'Kelly's commander, see if there's anything more there. Gibbs, with me, we'll pay Ms. Scuito a visit."
Everyone was paused for a moment in the middle of the bullpen before Bentley barked, "What are you waiting for? Get moving." And everyone jerked into motion as Bentley strode away with Gibbs on her tail.
SVR – Russian Foreign Intelligence Agency