Chapter 2

Vance left suddenly to take an urgent phone call from some other agency head, signing to Tim to meet him in MTAC in 15 minutes. Tim nodded and then glumly passed the time by looking out the window.

The day was gray and unfriendly. The sun had not been seen since Tim and Tony had set out to get lunch, and even then it had only peeked through the clouds which held it prisoner. Now, the clouds had multiplied and darkened. The windows were double paned, but still cold to the touch, as winter attempted to get inside.

They'd all come in to work so early that Tim hadn't had a chance to get the weather forecast before he left home. He called it up on his computer now.

HAZARDOUS WEATHER ALERT

SHORT TERM FORECAST

NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE BALTIMORE MD/WASHINGTON DC
TIDAL POTOMAC FROM KEY BRIDGE TO INDIAN HEAD MD-
PATAPSCO RIVER INCLUDING BALTIMORE HARBOR-DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA-
NORTHERN BALTIMORE-HARFORD-MONTGOMERY-HOWARD-SOUTHERN BALTIMORE-
NELSON-ALBEMARLE-GREENE-MADISON-RAPPAHANNOCK-LOUDOUN-ORANGE-
CULPEPER-PRINCE WILLIAM/MANASSAS/MANASSAS PARK-FAIRFAX-
ARLINGTON/FALLS CHURCH/ALEXANDRIA-NORTHERN FAUQUIER-
SOUTHERN FAUQUIER-

A POWERFUL STORM IS FORECAST TO MOVE THROUGH THE AREA, STARTING WEST IN THE VIRGINIAS, WITH HEAVY SNOW AND DANGEROUSLY HIGH WINDS TODAY. THE POWERFUL WINDS AND HEAVY SNOW ARE LIKELY TO CREATE WHITEOUT CONDITIONS AT TIMES...ESPECIALLY AT SUNDOWN AND EARLY EVENING IN THE BALTI-WASH AREA. LIGHT SNOW WILL START TO OVERSPREAD THE AREA BY 3 PM. ALTHOUGH STRONG WINDS AND SNOW MAY DECREASE IN INTENSITY OVERNIGHT...THE WIND AND SNOW WILL NOT ENTIRELY CEASE. A SECOND AND COLDER STORM IS EXPECTED TO BRING MORE SNOW TO THE AREA TOMORROW AND THE NEXT DAY.

BLIZZARD WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 6 PM TODAY TO 6 PM EST TOMORROW.

SNOWFALL AMOUNTS OF 6 TO 12 INCHES ARE POSSIBLE.

TRAVEL OVER THE HIGHER ELEVATIONS WEST OF THE FORECAST AREA WILL BE VERY DIFFICULT...IF NOT IMPOSSIBLE AT TIMES BETWEEN THIS EVENING AND THE 48 HOURS AFTERWARDS. THE WIND AND SNOW MAY DECREASE BY MIDNIGHT TOMORROW... BUT WILL NOT ENTIRELY END.

A BLIZZARD WARNING MEANS SEVERE WINTER WEATHER CONDITIONS ARE EXPECTED OR OCCURRING. FALLING AND BLOWING SNOW WITH STRONG WINDS AND POOR VISIBILITIES ARE LIKELY. THIS WILL LEAD TO WHITEOUT CONDITIONS...MAKING TRAVEL EXTREMELY YOU MUST TRAVEL...HAVE A WINTER SURVIVAL KIT WITH YOU.

Well, that wasn't good. With a small feeling of self-preservation, Tim was glad that he wasn't going out in that. In exchange, he would politely listen to Tony's complaints of the weather when he got back. It was so much nicer to not experience it, himself, even if it meant hunkering down inside NCIS overnight.

When the 15 minutes were up, Tim took the elevator (no need to wear his lungs out on the stairs) to the main MTAC entrance on the third floor. Vance was already there.

"I just sent out an email; don't know if you saw it," Vance remarked to him. "There's a storm coming in; a blizzard. NCIS is closing in 2 hours, in line with most other federal agencies in the area. I need you here, though, McGee. Do you have a problem with that?"

Tim didn't, and said so. "I saw the weather bureau forecast. A night spent here won't matter." If Abby goes home, maybe I can snag her futon.

"Good. I'll be here, too. Got some nasty stuff in the Persian Gulf that needs my attention. But first—our Marine sergeant. Roody," he addressed one of the technicians, "Do we have Major Moretti on the line yet?"

"He's standing by, sir. Connecting to Panzer Kaserne…"

The gigantic plasma screen's test pattern dissolved to a shot at, apparently, the Marine Corps Forces, Europe (MARFOREUR), in Boblingen, Germany. The major looked out at them soberly. "Director Vance, I assume? A pleasure to meet you, sir."

"I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances," said Vance, appreciating the man's politeness and directness.

"This is about Sergeant James? I just got word from the local authorities."

At this, Vance seethed, but tried not to show it. Word should have come through NCIS; not the local yokels. "Yes. We don't have any details yet. I've got my Major Case Response Team en route to the scene. Your sergeant was stationed there in Germany?"

"Yes, sir. He was on leave; said he was going to be vacationing a bit here in Germany. I didn't expect him to wind up in the US; he's supposed to notify his CO if he's going outside the EU."

"So you don't know what he was doing here, or who he might have met up with? A woman, perhaps?"

"No, sir. James was a likeable guy; no enemies that I know of, before you ask. He didn't have a steady girl; he was kind of shy around women, although he did like them. Everyone liked him, though. A nice guy. How did he die, Director?"

"We're not sure yet," Vance said, sounding neutral. They really didn't know anything, at this point. "Major, if you come up with any information, please be sure to let me know."

"Will do, sir."

The connection was cut, and the screen went back to the colored bars. Tim thought idly, Someday…we'll have better video capability and the scenes in the field will be visible here. It's not that big a step-up, and the special operations unit in L.A. already has something like that…

"Thank you, Roody and Martensen," Vance said to the two MTAC technicians on duty. "If you want to pack up and head home now, go ahead. The Metro will be packed shortly, I imagine."

"You think you can do the work of the two of us, McGee?" Roody said good-naturedly as he passed by Tim.

"I'll try," Tim smiled back, then looked to Vance for directions.

"The Persian Gulf business can wait a few hours. I want you to trace the sergeant's travel," Vance ordered. "All the way from Germany to West Virginia. Trace his communications and financial tracks. Who did he meet? What was he doing out there?"

"Yes, sir," Tim said, and then added cautiously, "If you don't mind my asking, sir…what's your interest in this case?" It was true; the Director of NCIS didn't often get involved in a case, no matter how bizarre.

"It's what we've heard of the method of the killing. It's so heinous that if we don't keep on top of it, the news leak will be sensational. And I don't like sensational."

"Me, neither," said Tim, and got to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Wow, this makes the boondocks look hip," Tony said, looking out the window of the van. "Where is this place...besides the middle of nowhere, West Virginia?"

"Franklin. It is the county seat of Pendleton," Ziva said, rolling her eyes. "The body was found near here. It makes sense for it to be here."

"Yeah, well, there's not much out here."

"You planning on moving here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"No, Boss."

"Then, let's get on with it."

Tony opened the door and shivered. "Man, I hate winter."

"There is the sheriff's office," Ziva said, pointing. "Perhaps we should get to work?"

Tony nodded and got out of the van, looking disgruntled.

"I'll bet the Probie was just trying to get out of coming here. That's why he said he had walking pneumonia," he grumbled. "No one in their right mind would want to come here."

"I think it is lovely," Ziva said. "Like a postcard."

Thwack!

Thwack!

"Need I remind you two that a man was murdered out here?" Gibbs said tersely.

"No, Boss."

"No, Gibbs."

They headed toward the small sheriff's office.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A man lifted the curtain and watched the team head into the sheriff's office. His companions stood beside him.

"NCIS. What is that?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service. The man was a member of the Marine Corps."

"They arrived too quickly. We have not had time to finish the ceremony."

"We won't be able to finish it here in any case. Too many people are looking. They're remembering the past now."

"The storm is coming...as you said it would. Will we be too late?"

"Not if we leave now. Perhaps it will be better to finish within the boundaries. We will have direct contact with the power we wish to gain."

"We have come too far to stop now."

The man dropped the curtain and deliberately turned away from the sheriff's office door which had reopened, revealing the sheriff and the NCIS team, just as another truck pulled up.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Good afternoon, Jethro! You'll see that Mr. Palmer didn't get us lost for once!"

Jimmy grinned. "I had to get us here on time so we can leave, Dr. Mallard. There's a storm coming in."

"What?" Tony asked. "A storm?"

"Yeah, a real doozy. I even heard one announcer call it a humdinger. I haven't heard anyone use that term since my great aunt decided that she would have five shots of tequila in a row. When she collapsed she said that it had been a real humdinger. I guess that's..." Jimmy trailed off as he noticed everyone staring at him. "...well...it's supposed to be a bad storm anyway."

"Boss?" Tony asked hopefully.

"Don't even think it, DiNozzo. Plan on spending the night."

"But...but Boss...We've paid our dues to the small town bed and breakfasts!" Tony protested. "Can't we just–?"

Thwack!

"No!"

"Where is the body, Sheriff Dieter?" Ducky asked. "I can assume that he is not in the location where he died?"

"Yeah," Sheriff Dieter said, rubbing his head. "We still had delusions of maybe reviving him. He went all the way to the clinic but there wasn't a chance. He was dead on arrival. We have him in storage. When we saw his Marine Corps tattoo, we were happy to have someone to call. I don't have the manpower to deal with this. Do you know how many people live in this county?"

"Ten?" Tony muttered softly.

Thwack!

"Eight thousand, Agent Gibbs. Eight thousand. The biggest crime I deal with is kids being stupid and spinning out in their dads' trucks or the occasional shoplifting. The last murder in the entire county was back in 2004. One murder. ...and this...this is crazy stuff."

"Crazy, how?" Ziva asked.

"You'll see when you look at the body. Crazy. I've never seen anything like it, not in all my years here."

"How long would that be, Sheriff?" Ducky asked as they walked toward the small clinic where the body was being kept.

"Twelve years in Pendleton. I moved here to get away from crap like this." He pushed open the door and led them back. "We have room for one body. That's it. Anything more and we'd have to go to the funeral home to get them to store it."

He pulled open the walk-in freezer and showed them the body.

"Crazy is right. What is all this stuff?" Tony asked.

"You got me," Sheriff Dieter said. "Like I said, I've never seen anything like it before."

"This looks familiar to me," Ducky said, "but I can't think why. These symbols..."

Tony looked more closely at them.

"Tony, photos. Sheriff, can you take us to the scene?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Ziva, with me. Ducky, you think you can beat the storm?"

"Certainly, Jethro. It might be pushing our luck, but I believe we can finish up here and return to NCIS."

"Good. Do it. Keep me informed. We'll probably be stuck here tonight."

"Of course."

"Sheriff?" Gibbs said.

"This way, Agent Gibbs. I'll drive you out there."

As they trooped out, Tony stared at the symbols.

"Getting to you, Anthony?" Ducky asked.

"No...but I think I've seen something like this before. I don't know where, though. What are the odds that you and I have both seen this?"

Ducky chuckled. "Surely somewhere in the vast experiences we two have had, there is some point of commonality. We will both be able to remember eventually, I'm sure. We'll have the time. ...and this poor young man will patiently wait for us to hear what he has to say."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The sheriff's car pulled off the paved road onto a well-packed dirt one, deep in forestland, about 15 miles outside Franklin. Presently he stopped the car in what seemed to be a parking area. A sign on a weathered wooden building read Little River Campground.

"This is not a popular area for camping?" Ziva asked, getting out of the car. There was no one else around.

"Oh, it gets busy enough," said Sheriff Dieter. "But we're off-season now. The campgrounds will reopen in late March, and things will be humming then. You come back here in the spring if you want to see the prettiest territory on earth."

"No one camps here at all in the winter?" Ziva persisted. The snow wasn't deep; just a few inches here in this parking area. "I had heard that they make tents and sleeping bags warm enough to keep out even the winter chill."

Gibbs smiled. "That's not the problem. Roads often become inaccessible due to snow. They don't all get plowed like a city street."

"That's true," said the sheriff. "It's easier to just wait until the snow melts in spring. My force has enough to do without having to rescue stranded campers in January. Besides, the campsite owners need a break after a long season. Rod and Betty Goshen, who own this place, spend their winters in Florida."

"Then that raises the question of what our Marine was doing out here at this time of year," Gibbs remarked, scanning the landscapes with the nearly bare trees and the dull greens of random pines. "Sheriff, I know that in some locations in the mountains, they actually close off the roads by gates in winter. The ones that people don't need when they need to go from place to place. You do that here?"

"Not so much. There are other, more popular campgrounds in the mountains that need to keep people out."

"So, anyone could just drive in at this time of year and set themselves up."

"They could. We do a little light patrolling, and if we see a parked car and no one around, we'll try to find 'em and roust 'em, for their own good. Not that they like that. Hunters are mostly okay. They're local, and have the good sense to go home after a couple hours. But we hadn't an inkling of anyone being in this area until your Marine's body was found."

Gibbs gazed at the cloudy sky. "Maybe you'd better take us to the site now…before the roads get blocked."

It was about a half mile hike to the site. "We disturbed as little of it as we could," said Sheriff Dieter. "Josh Runyon was the one that found him. He was out hunting. Good boy; I've known him all his life."

Ziva pulled out a notebook. "Where can we find him?"

"He lives in town. Has an apartment over the general store. He works at the lumberyard."

Gibbs surveyed the area around the tree that Dieter pointed out, looking closely at the numerous boot prints in the snow while Ziva snapped pictures. Below the tree was a dark layer that rested, frozen, on top of the crusty snow. Gibbs took samples over the click click click of the camera.

"Lot of blood," the sheriff remarked. "Poor fellow; that must have been agonizing. He was still alive when Josh cut him down, I think I told you."

"Something is missing," said Ziva. "There is a partial impression in the snow here, like of a bowl. Did you pick up anything, Sheriff?"

"Huh. Well it seems to me that we did. Or one of my men did, actually. It would be back at the station. I remember thinking that curious at the time. A bowl. Why a bowl?"

Gibbs shrugged and turned his attention to the boot tracks. "Hard to tell how many individual prints there are," he grunted. "Maybe our lab can figure it out."

"Sorry about our messing up the site," said the sheriff. "It was just my two men and me, plus Josh. But still…"

"Couldn't be helped," said Gibbs. "You say Sergeant James was found hanging? What happened to the rope that held him?"

"We saved it. It's back at the station."

"Whoever did this," said Ziva, looking thoughtful, "was very skilled. Aside from the blood, there is not a trace of stray fiber, or anything else out of place."

"As if they've done this before," Gibbs nodded. He was mentally compiling a list of things to check out, back when they were in a cell phone zone. "Ziva, check where those tracks go, into the trees."

She was already off, having had the same idea. Returning about 10 minutes later, she said, "Nothing of interest. The tracks go about 100 meters and then, where there is a bigger path, head back to the road."

Daylight was fading, and the wind was picking up. "Might as well go back to town," said Gibbs. "We can see what Josh Runyon knows."