As far as Gibbs was concerned, Decker's diner was located in the middle of nowhere. The only things visible around it were cactuses, a solitary tree here and there, dry bushes and dirt, dirt and even more dirt.

Gibbs couldn't understand what Decker had seen in that forsaken place and why he wanted to fix a diner drivers would found only if they got lost.

Using the key they had got from Sasha, Gibbs opened the front door and he and Mike entered inside the deserted building.

The air was stale and the floor and furniture where covered by dust and webs, but it was a nice place, large enough to be used as a ballroom while a country band played on a small stage set against the wall.

The chairs and stools were turned upside down on the tables to protect them from the dirt that filtered everywhere and the counter running along the wall was full of boxes.

Without needing to say anything to each other, Gibbs and Mike went in separate ways and assessed their surroundings.

The deadbolt was a Schlage, same for the front door. Wood-framed, stucco exterior, lath-and-plaster walls on the front, stone in the rear. Both Gibbs and Mike were appeased knowing the building would offer a good cover should they need it—and the two men felt it was highly probable they would need it. If Decker's killer knew about his insurance policy, then he would certainly find that place…and them.

Gibbs walked toward the pile of boxes near the counter and knelt. He used his knife to break the tape sealing on of them and looked inside. It contained only some old trophies, so Gibbs moved to the next box.

"I'll help you, Probie, if you tell me what I must look for," Mike said after a while

Gibbs stood up and brushed his dusty hands on his jeans, looking annoyed at the row of boxes he had opened without finding anything interesting in them. "I don't know what we are looking for, Mike. Decker said Jenny would know where to look—not me. However, he was aware that someone was after him—and he knew why."

"Your mystery op in Europe ," Mike commented.

"Yep. Any useful insurance policy would contain names. Targets. Dates. Operational blueprints …" Gibbs said, hand on hips as he scanned the diner in search of a clue. His eyes stopped on the wall behind the counter, which was covered by framed pictures. "…photos…" he whispered, eyes flashing.

"We got plenty of those," Mike quipped, as they moved toward the wall to have a better look at the photos.

Gibbs walked behind the counter and took down some frames. He studied the pictures and the dates written under them and frowned. There was something strange in those numbers, they made him thought of the numeric codes Decker used in Europe to communicate him and Jenny where, how and when certain shoots of their targets had been taken.

"These dates are wrong," Gibbs said aloud, carrying the frames to a nearby table. He sat down and took the notepad and pen he always carried in his pocket. Mike sat near him, watching him expectantly.

"This is Decker's retirement party in 2007," Gibbs said and pointed at the date written beneath: 5/3/78, which he copied on his notepad. He took another frame and showed Mike the banner that appeared in the background of the shoot. It said 'Crime Analysts Conference 2002', but the date scribbled beneath read 7/13/99. Gibbs copied these numbers too and repeated the process with other suspicious photos.

"This is some kind of code," he finally said, tapping the notepad with the pen.

"Bank routing number?" Mike suggested.

"Too long for a cash account."

"Safe deposit box?"

"Maybe. And if it is, where is this safe located? Damn, I really don't want to bring my people in this anymore I already have," Gibbs lowered his head and Mike patted his shoulder.

"I understand your concerns, Gunny, but as much as you don't like it, you might have no other option but ask help to your team and Director…"

"I know Mike, but won't call then in unless I've exhausted all my other options."

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't want them to get involved in something that doesn't concern them. Last time my team was caught in between in the personal vendetta a dirtbag had against me, one of my agents was killed. Her name was Kate and she took a bullet in her head because the bastard knew what had happened to Shannon and Kelly and wanted to make me suffer by taking down the women closer to me."

"I see."

Gibbs returned to stare at the code as Mike stood up and walked around the diner.

"Hey, Probie! I found a radio! Do you mind if I turn it on? Maybe it will catch some Mexican station…"

Gibbs shook his head. He was used to think even with a TV or radio turned on, as long as it was not blaring loud as Abby used to keep the music in her lab.

"…a mysterious death upset the tourists in Santa Monica 's …Sasha Gordon, 22, was found dead on a beach. LAPD is still investigating, but it looks like that she broke her neck in a fall…"

Mike switched off the radio and looked at Gibbs, looking as upset as the younger man.

"I told Sasha to leave town," Gibbs whispered, angered by that useless death.

"She probably went back to her apartment to grab a few things and Viggo found her," Mike commented, lightening another cigarette.

"Then we have to presume she talked and told him about us, about this place—and about Decker's insurance policy. Which mean he's gonna be on his way here."

"If we leave now..." Mike suggested, arching his eyebrow and gesturing with his hand.

"I'm staying, Mike, but I'll understand if you want to go," Gibbs stopped in front of his friend. "You have my goddaughter to look after, and you've already done so much for me. You don't have to risk your life for me again."

Mike Franks moved so fast that Gibbs was not able to duck and avoid the hand connecting not too gently with the back of his head.

"Stop with the bullshits, Probie," Mike hissed, grabbing his arm. "We are Marines and we don't leave men behind! If you stay here, I stay too—and don't you dare to feel guilty! This is my decision, my responsibility. I'm doing this because I want to—and because you would do the same for me. And now let's put an end to this emotional crap and let's get ready for Viggo."

Gibbs nodded, just once, but it was enough to convince Mike to let go of his arm.

Gibbs walked toward the window and looked outside between the half open binds, staring at the desert surrounding them.

Then he slowly turned and meeting his friend's eyes he said, his tone loaded with deadly determination, "Yeah Mike, we better get ready, 'cause whatever this is, it ends here and it ends now—no matter how."

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A/N: before I got flamed another time regarding this detail, as far as I know, in the series it is not explicity said Franks was NOT a Marine. We know from a 'Hiatus' flashbacks he fought in Vietnam, thus he could have been a Marine. I like to think this is the reason he and Gibbs bonded so quickly and Franks let Gibbs read how Hernandez was hiding.

As for Jenny's role in this story, as you can see I'm following the canon pretty closely, just reversing her and Gibbs' roles, so she will make her entry in Part Two of the story.

Finally, just in case you have not checked my profile, English is not my mother tongue. So please, forgive me if now and then I throw in some "Ziva-ism". Maybe you are not aware that most of your sayings/figure of speech cannot be found on a English/Italian dictionary and can be learned only living in the USA or having a constant contact with American-speaking people, which, alas, is not possible for me.