Notes:

The USS Kitty Hawk is a super carrier. In early 2008 she was operating out of Yokosuka, Japan – where the NCIS Far East Field Office is located.

The Growler is a two-seater Super Hornet.

Valiant Shield was the largest exercise in the Pacific in 2007. Held in the Guam operating area, it included 30 ships, more than 280 aircraft, and more than 20,000 service members from the Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard.


"How giddy is he?"

Jen laughed into her phone.

"I don't think he's come down from the clouds since he came back from the Kitty Hawk. Apparently he went up in a Growler on the last day. This was a nice idea, Jethro. I wish you could see the look on his face."

"Seemed like a pity to have him playing war games on his computer when he could have been doing the real thing."

"How many markers?"

There was a brief pause before Gibbs admitted, "a lot."

"I can assure you it was worth it every one," she said as she looked over to where McGee stood talking animatedly to a member of SecNav's staff.

No doubt enthusing about his participation in Valiant Shield.

"He's a good kid."

"Yes he is."

"Saw you on TV earlier. You were all over ZNN."

"Really? Not SecNav?"

"Just you. Wowing the troops. Di Nozzo taped it for you."

"How's the agency, Jethro?"

"Was wondering when you'd get round to that" he said; and she could feel the smile stretch all the way to the Pacific. "I mostly managed to keep my dignity around your precious sister agencies. Cynthia insisted. Thought you might appreciate it."

"So the Agency ... "

"Is fine, Jen. Haven't diced it up and given it to the three-letter boys. Yet."

"And how are you?"

"Looking forward to returning the reins of power."

"Is that all you're looking forward to?" she asked, her voice taking on a gentler inflection.

"Nope."

She smiled to herself at that.

"I will make it up to you, Jethro," she said in a whisper as McGee slid into the seat beside her; an indication that they were getting ready for take off. "Right, we're leaving."

"I'll leave the light on for you," Gibbs replied before severing the connection.

Jen put her phone into her handbag and smiled affectionately at her young agent.

"Ready to go home?"

He nodded.

"Director?"

"Yes, McGee?"

"Thank you."

"Thank Gibbs," she said, patting his hand. "He's the one who made it happen. I just approved it."

"Really?"

The way his eyes lit up warmed her heart because she hadn't thought it was possible after all he'd seen and done over the past couple of days. But then Jethro always had been very good at conveying affection for his agents when they least expected it; and in varying forms of unorthodoxy.

She found she was very glad none of that changed.

"Really," she said with a smile. Fastening her seatbelt as the engines came to life.

As they taxied along the runway Jen settled back into her seat and looked out of the window one last time. Making a mental note to return as they rose from the ground.

Suddenly McGee touched her sleeve.

"Something's wrong," he said, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "The landing gear isn't retracting."

Jen looked round. Nobody else seemed worried.

"Are you su-"

She was cut off by what sounded like a shot from the front of the aircraft, and instinctively reached for her weapon.

"I wouldn't do that," a voice behind her said. She caught sight of McGee stilling in her peripheral vision, as the barrel of a gun touched the back of his skull.

They stared in what seemed like slow motion as SecNav rose from his seat a few rows along.

It was unclear exactly what happened next, but before Jen could even hope to make a situation assessment, people lunged trying to protect him.

At which point everything went to hell in a handbasket.

"Down, McGee!" she shouted, taking advantage of the momentary confusion to push him him down and take out the person behind them.

"We're going back down," Tim hissed.

"Stand up!" an accented male voice ordered.

McGee stepped out into the aisle. Jen beside him.

The man looked over at this dead companion and then at the gun in Jen's hand. He backhanded her without so much as moment's hesitation; the heavy ring on his finger tearing into her skin. McGee caught her as she staggered backwards, blood from her split cheek staining both their clothes.

"Naseer!"

"What?" he replied, eyes brimming with hate still on Jen.

"We have a problem," his comrade replied in what Jen identified as Dari.

Naseer grabbed a rough hold of Jen and pushed her in front of him. Together they looked down at the lifeless body of Phillip Davenport. 75th Secretary of the Navy.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," the older man said. Cursing before turning his wrath onto Jen again. As he made to strike her, one of her protection detail sprang from his seat.

Only to be met by a bullet to the chest just as he reached her.

He crumpled onto a seat, clutching his wound.

"Sit!" Naseer spat, pushing Jen into the seat next to him. Communicating to his partner in one deft gesture that he needed to keep his weapon trained on both of them.

"If she moves ... kill her."


Additional note:

Dari (Persian/Farsi) is one of the official languages of Afghanistan.