語句 - Words

Gibbs walks in a hurry to his desk, eager to hear what we have to present him. "What have you got?"

Tony takes the lead, as always, "Petty Officer William Travis, twenty six, has been stationed on the USS George Washington for the last six years until he requested a transfer to DC three months ago. We've been trying a video link with the special agent afloat in it, but due to the different time zones, he's offshore. He's reporting to duty only in our evening which will be their morning, so we will have to wait."

"What about his colleagues?"

"Those on board which we had the opportunity to talk to said that he was a quiet officer, who preferred to do his job and be gone. A loner, only had two or three people who he used to talk to and that's only because they've shared the same interests," says McGee tiredly, after several hours in the MTAC trying a connection on the other side of the world. As there were thirteen timezones of difference, most of the people we wanted to talk were either asleep or off duty.

"Which would be?"

"Board games. According to his XO, they would spend hours playing an assortment of board games whenever they were off duty." I say, studying my notes of what we spoken to the officers on the USS George.

Gibbs frowns, unhappy with our information, "And was there anything illegal in it?"

"No, actually their own captain used to play chess with him. He testified that the boy should have become a pro." I say, lightly hitting my writing pad in my open palm, staring at the picture of the dead officer on the plasma.

"Anything else?"

McGee clicks and the picture of the paper they've found appears on the plasma, "There was a phone number on the back of the message found in Petty Officer Travis' pockets. Abby is already checking it for any residue but she has already told us that it is an old paper."

"How old?"

"He kept it with him for months, according to Abs. The ink on the paper is a few months old."

My info apparently is not enough for Gibbs, who turns to me and stares me down.

"How old?" Gibbs repeats the question, impatient.

"We don't know yet" I say, and Gibbs glares even harder at me, "But we will find out." He turns to look again at the plasma, and I breathe happily again.

"Any idea of whose phone is this?"

"Nope, it's been disconnected for the last seven months, but we know that's a local phone number in…" he clicks another thing and the image from Google Earth zooms in Japan. "Tokyo, where the USS George Washington was homeported and where Petty officer Travis was assigned for the majority of the last six years, until he suddenly requested a transfer to DC three months ago."

"Finances?"

"No big deposits from any suspect sources but he has requested a fairly sizable loan from a DC bank as soon as he arrived back into the States three months ago and he immediately wired the full amount to an account in the Miyagi Province bank," he points to a small dot on the map north of Tokyo.

"How much money are we talking about?"

"A lot," says Ziva, looking at the papers in her hands, "nearly eighty thousand dollars."

"Any idea why?"

"Not yet." Gibbs glares at McGee, who rushes to correct himself, "but we will find out."

"Any family?"

"Father was Admiral, working at the Naval Academy in Annapolis. He has already been informed of his son's demise and he's on his way up. Security is bringing him and his wife up as we speak."

"I want to do the interview." He then surprises every one, including me, "Buchanan, with me." He starts marching towards the elevators, where a man in Admiral uniform and a short blond woman are being escorted by security. I glance at McGee who points with his head that I should follow Gibbs.

I rush to my desk, grab a yellow notepad and run down the corridor to follow Gibbs and the parents of our victim to the conference rooms down the hall.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"What can you tell us about your son?" Gibbs starts, and I sit back to enjoy my favorite past time: people watching.

"He was a good boy. Dedicated. A scholarly child. He was interested in mathematics and chess clubs while growing up and I was quite proud when he decided to join the Navy."

"Did he mention any problems with colleagues, anything that might have caused his request of transfer to DC?"

"No, he just told me that he wanted to be closer to his family."

"Any idea if your son could have come in contact with the underground crime scene in Tokyo?"

"What? That's impossible." Mrs. Travis is outraged, "My Will was a good boy. He has always been the type of child who would bring a wounded bird home and beg me to keep it. He would never involve himself with anything illegal," Mrs. Travis twists a handkerchief nervously in her hand, her big blue eyes red of endless tears for her lost son. Admiral Travis sits straighter on his chair, his eyes burning Gibbs for daring even to suggest the possibility of their son doing something wrong.

"My son is a man of solid morals, who has never done harm to anyone. His career in the Navy has been spotless, he has never received a single reprimand for misconduct," says Admiral Travis in a stern voice, not admitting any bad comment about his son.

"Any enemies?"

"No. He was a loner mostly. He was such a quiet child. Always so focused on his books and board games."

"What kind of board games?" I consider that interesting, and I feel Gibbs' gaze burning me but I simply ignore it. It's a facet of his personality which wasn't written on his service record and it was the second time it was popping out in our investigation.

"He loved them all. Chess. Checkers. Carcassone. Senet."

That catches my attention, and I stare at Mrs. Travis trying to read her.

"He had a very broad interest in games," I comment thinking for a moment.

"Is that relevant how?" Gibbs looks at me impatient to go back to the line of questioning, but my desire to figure out the victmology presses me to investigate this further.

"Boss, most of these games require strategic thinking. Carcassone is old French board game. Senet is an even older board game, ancient actually, of Egyptian origin. Very unheard of."

"My brother is an Egyptologist. He gave the board game to Will when he was seven," says Admiral Travis as explanation.

"Yes, he also was eximious Go player," says , proud of her son's achievements, wiping her red nose with a delicate handkerchief.

"Really? How good was he?" Gibbs glares at me, completely lost in the conversation.

"Is that going to help us find our son's killer?"

"I'm just trying to make mental picture of who was your son while alive, Admiral Travis."

"He was the county champion," says Mrs. Travis, sending a heated glare towards her husband, before leaning towards me and acting like any other mother proud of her offspring, "He even travelled abroad for some competitions while he was in school and that's why he was so happy to be assigned to the USS George Washington in Japan.

I feel Gibbs eyes on me as I'm quite sure that my face is showing my excitement.

"Where did he travel?"

"Korea, China and Japan. He went with a Go group from his school."

I look at Gibbs and we both stand up at the same time.

"Thanks for your cooperation, Admiral."