McGee grimaced as he photographed the body of Navy Lieutenant Commander Matthew Floyd – or who they assumed was Lt. Cmdr. Floyd. The dog tags were a dead giveaway, even when the face wasn't. He looked up when Sampson returned, still looking distinctly green. "You okay, George?"

Sampson seemed suspicious about being addressed by his first name. "Sorry. I just…this is even worse than last time, and last time was a dead naked girl who'd been thrown over a barbed wire fence. Am I going to get in trouble for using an evidence bag for…that?"

"Well, it was an empty bag. Better that than getting it somewhere out here that Gibbs could see."

"I didn't have a problem when we observed an autopsy during training. It wasn't like…well…"

McGee put a steadying hand on Sampson's shoulder. "You, um, you…don't get used to it, exactly, you just…"

"Stop having to excuse yourself to throw up without contaminating the scene?"

McGee looked down at the exploded mass that had once been Floyd's face. "Something like that. And we usually have a break between cases, but lately we've been really swamped. It'll get easier."

"I'm just glad DiNozzo wasn't here to see it."

"Yeah, that would…Tony probably wouldn't be very sympathetic."

"I thought you said he was going to get nicer."

Another look at the body restrained McGee's urge to smile. Tony's prank the previous day had been made even more convincing by the fact that Ziva had never been terribly concerned about which room she was walking into anyway. Sampson, being new to the building, didn't think it was strange to see her walking into what he'd thought was the men's room, especially since it was labeled as the women's room, courtesy of Tony, who removed the fake signage before Sampson had escaped from the high-pitched screaming in the actual women's room. McGee had to admit it was kind of funny, probably because it had happened to someone else. After the overly-sensitive women had been convinced that no sexual harassment claims needed to be filed and Sampson had delivered blushing apologies, Tony had even paid for lunch. "I think he's actually been pretty good, all things considered. He even got you a date with Cynthia."

"Which she hopefully won't cancel if she hears about what happened yesterday. Or just now."

"Oh, never fear, young Sampson," Ducky interrupted, placing his bag on the ground just outside the large blood pool. "There's no reason to think an honest mistake will be met with contempt and rejection. If anything, she will be shaking her head over Tony's antics, with which, I might remind you, most everyone in the agency has some familiarity."

"Are you sure, Dr. Mallard? She hasn't been at her desk when I've gone to see her. I think she may be avoiding me."

"She's been in MTAC with Director Shepard," McGee said, noting that Gibbs was angrily hanging up the phone he'd been shouting into for the past few minutes. Whatever was holding up Tony and Ziva was going to be a serious, escalating source of exasperation the longer it took them to arrive. Briefly wondering if the Director were somehow linked to Tony and Ziva's absence, he snapped a few more shots of Floyd's body before nodding to Ducky. "I'm all set."

"Very well. Let us see what caused the demise of this poor man."

A suggestion was half-muttered from a few feet away, "Exploding face syndrome?"

"Do grow up, Mr. Palmer! We do not need a fill-in for that aspect of Agent DiNozzo's responsibility."

McGee saw Sampson begin to twitch as Ducky turned the remains of the head and said, "Sammy, why don't you look into getting the security footage."

The nickname, which McGee found he quite enjoyed using, seemed to snap Sampson out of his nauseated trance. "What security footage?"

"There's an ATM just up the block that may have captured either Floyd or his attacker as he passed. See if you can get the tape. Then check with that gas station to see if they have an angle on the sidewalk."

Sampson gave him a grateful look just as Ducky exclaimed, "Ah! There we are!"

"At least someone is here," Gibbs grumbled as he walked over. "Find anything?"

"Based on the damage to this man's face, the stippling around the rear entry wound and the pellet or two I can see lodged behind the frontal bone where the left orbital plate should be obstructing my line of sight, I believe he was shot from behind at very close range with a shotgun of some type."

"You sure?"

"With this sort of catastrophic damage, Jethro, I can be fairly certain, though that is just a preliminary analysis. Mr. Palmer, are you having much luck gathering the dispersed tissue?"

McGee didn't bother to look at the area of the sidewalk where Palmer was working with a pair of tweezers; he'd seen enough when he'd photographed it. He was glad Ducky had suggested Palmer handle that particular duty in the interest of collecting and identifying the various pieces, like the one he was now holding up. "Doctor, would you say this is part of the optic nerve?"

Ducky sighed. "Your eagerness is duly noted, Mr. Palmer, but please hurry so you can fetch the gurney. You'll have plenty of time to identify the samples once we have returned to NCIS."

"McGee!"

"I'm right here, boss."

"Did you talk to anyone yet?"

"No, I was…" he stopped, not wanting to mention that he had been busy photographing the scene and that someone else should have been available to look for witnesses. There was no reason to make Gibbs madder. "I was just about to. I asked Sampson to get the security footage from the ATM and the gas station…if that's all right?"

"Why the hell wouldn't it be, McGee?"

"Oh, I…"

McGee was saved from being the object of further venting when Gibbs flipped his ringing phone open, shouting, "What?" His demeanor changed after a few seconds of listening. "When? Yeah. Fine. What do you think? Yeah, we'll turn it over to them as soon as they get here." He hung up and turned back to McGee. "Find Sampson and head over to Tony and Ziva's place. I'll meet you there as soon as Cassidy and her team get here to take over this investigation."

"Boss, what's wrong?"

Gibbs lowered his voice. "Neighbor up the block called Metro – said she saw two people get hit over the head and shoved into a car about half an hour ago. Description fits."

"Someone kidnapped Tony and Ziva?" McGee caught himself before adding, 'Again?'

"I don't know, but it sure as hell explains why they aren't here." Gibbs gave the impression that even this was not an acceptable excuse, but McGee had to wonder… "Why are you still standing here? Get over there and make sure Metro doesn't try to hang onto this one. Take the truck."

"What about my car?"

"Drive that, then, McGee, and have Sampson drive the truck. Can't you resolve these issues yourself?"

McGee decided not to take it personally as Gibbs stormed toward Ducky and Palmer. Taking a few quick strides up the block, he shouted, "Sampson!"

Sampson broke into a run from the door he had just exited. "I got the ATM footage from the bank manager, but I haven't had a chance to go to…"

"Don't worry about it. We need to handle something else."

"But I…"

"Come on!"

"What's going on?"

"We're turning this case over to another NCIS team. It looks like Tony and Ziva have been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?"

McGee regretted not having asked Gibbs how much Sampson was allowed to know about the events that had occurred in the past year and a half involving Moussad and Dmitri Tushkevich, among others. He said only, "We aren't sure yet, but we need to leave now."

"Are we in danger?"

"Why would we be…"

"Well, not me, I guess, because I haven't been working cases with you very long, but is this some kind of…revenge thing?"

"No, it's just…look, Sampson, a lot has happened in the past year or so and almost all of it is classified and…this isn't really something we can read you into in the field. We don't even know what we're dealing with yet, so just try to treat this like you would any other crime scene, with professional detachment and… "

"Is there some reason you two are still here?" Gibbs suddenly shouted, interrupting McGee's pep talk, which he realized had been as much for himself as it had for Sampson.

"We're gone, boss!"

As McGee sprinted toward his car, he heard Gibbs shout again, "And there better not still be a bag of vomit in the back of the truck when I get there!"