— I guess we have got our man, Ducky nodded as he saw Gibbs enter his working area, getting rid of his pair of medical gloves.
— Him again ?
— Fingerprints do not lie, the ME smiled, approaching Jethro.
Gibbs sighed and took a look at the dead man on the silver table, wondering how many others would be lying on it in the future. It had almost become a habit, and that wasn't something he was really proud to think of.
— We didn't know it was him at the beginning, right ? he asked.
— Indeed, we did not, Jethro. But our man is very smart, as soon as he realized we had found his fingerprints…
— Thanks to the Wanted notices, you mean ?
— Yes, Jethro, Ducky continued. I'm still working on his psychological profile, but what is interesting about our man is that he is not intending to minimize his actions by keeping on hiding his future murders. He doesn't think yet about the possibility of being caught, all in all, what I am saying is…
—…once he knew we were looking for him, he didn't try being careful anymore.
Gibbs briefly stared at the dead man's wounds, thinking.
— He has a goal.
— Uh, uh…Ducky briefly nodded. Nothing visible in the blood result, as usual, Jethro, he continued. But I did notice some violence again on the body. Therefore, in my humble opinion, there are two possibilities : free pain inflicted to our men, or he got the different answers he might have been looking for and finally killed them. Once again, he sighed, I have no proof if there was any trace of any drug, so it could have been nothing, or so many possibilities at once…
He walked in his desk's direction and greeted on his way Mr Palmer who had just entered the room, both Jethro and Jimmy briefly greeting each other too.
— That is making a lot of people, Jethro…Ducky seemed to turn a bit worried, why I am wondering more and more if our man is not desperately looking for an answer. Maybe about someone in particular ?
— What do you mean, Dr Mallard ? Jimmy asked, Gibbs listening as well.
— Well, I do believe it must be some kind of 'revenge story', that would certainly not be the first time, but if it was a general hatred against Marines, why not simply burn a few places with everyone inside ? Oh, please do apologize this previous caricature of life, but really, Jethro, why minding killing a man here and there, if you do not even seem to be related to anyone of them ?
— He is looking for answers, Gibbs neutrally commented before leaving.
— You are the expert, Ducky gently smiled.
— And what about possibilities like truth serum, Dr Mallard ? Jimmy dared interrupting, Gibbs suddenly stopping in order to know more. I know it still is quite a vast subject to work on, but that might be an idea to explore…
— Well said, Mr Palmer…! And now that you speak of it, I do believe remembering that there is nothing to find after only...thirty minutes, if I'm not wrong, and…
—…nothing after only twelve hours if you check the urine, Jimmy continued. I wrote about it in my memoir, he proudly said.
— Well, we should definitely work on that, then... What is funny is that, technically, the ME expectedly looked for an anecdote to tell the man next to him, nothing has officially proved that this kind of drug was forcing people telling the truth, but I guess we can definitely say that it is helping them relax enough to not think too much about their answers. Rumor said it had been used a lot during both World Wars, and…
Gibbs briefly grinned at the long conversation about to take place between both doctors, and headed to the elevator, overthinking…
— — — — — — — — — —
Tim longly glanced at the picture of Prescott on the other side, knowing everyone had already been doing so quite often since that criminal's face had been put against the wall…
— McGee.
Tim left his dreamy world and faced again the space all around, lights of the bullpen, sounds included, finally reaching his eyes and ears.
— Yes, boss…?
— Go home, McGee.
Tim took a look at Tony and Ziva's desks, surprisingly noticing their emptiness… How much time had passed since they were gone ?
He opened his mouth in order to say something, but Gibbs stood up from his working corner and approached his agent's spot.
— Yes, they already left, McGee. And now you should go too, I'll still need you tomorrow in the morning.
— Alright, boss, Tim tried holding back a yawn, realizing now how exhausted he could be.
Crazy weeks, these weeks…there were no extra days-off allowed at NCIS until that Prescott was certain to be caught and locked up in jail, and days at work were becoming nights, and sometimes even early mornings...followed by other days, and other nights…
— Start drinking more of this, Gibbs showed his agent his umpteenth cup of coffee, Tim smiling at the sight of it. You're gonna be alright, McGee ? he added. Try not to die on the road, I need you to be fresh and clean in a few hours.
— I'll do my best, Tim smiled again and felt his facial features tense and melt under his skin, extreme tiredness seeming to be playing with it a curious game he couldn't really explain.
He quickly grabbed all his belongings and finally headed to the elevator, knowing it was useless to ask Gibbs to go back home as well, although he knew he would feel way better just saying it.
— Are you sure this...place is safe, boss ? he stopped and said instead, now picturing Gibbs alone in that large empty space.
— Yes, Jethro neutrally answered, eyes on some papers onto his desk, waiting for Tim to leave.
But Tim was still here, near the elevator, and he could see that he was a bit worried for him. Gibbs dropped the files and stared at his agent.
— I'll be fine, McGee. If Prescott tries to walk around again, the security system will have this whole place shut down. No way for him to come in.
Tim sighed and pressed the elevator's button when he finished speaking, worried and tired…
Well, he thought, definitely too tired to fight...especially against Gibbs.
— Alright, boss, he gave up. See you tom…
He took a desperate look at his watch.
— Well, he mumbled, see you...later.
— Good night, McGee.
And Gibbs was already back to reading his files, secretly thinking about his agent…proud, somehow, he guessed, to have someone caring about him that way...
Tim watched both silver doors open in front of him and reluctantly headed outside, while rubbing his eyes, wondering where his car could have been parked earlier...when a shadow in the dark started walking between the last few vehicles, Tim now seriously looking for his identity.
A bit of light suddenly revealed who the stranger really was when he reached a brighter corner, and Tim smiled in the end at the sight of him.
— Hey, Tim, tough night ?
— That obvious, uh ? What about you, Patrick, cleaning already about to start ?
— Wow...someone would need some extra sleep, the voice resonated, the man now approaching his vehicle. I know it's late, but even for me, it's time to go home !
Tim rubbed his eyes again and blinked with difficulty as he kept walking, all cars in the dark looking the same…yes, he definitely should start sleeping, if only just a few hours... He stopped for a second and observed the man with a slight exasperation, knowing it was almost every night the same mistake, at least every time they had the chance to meet in here.
— Come on, Patrick...he funnily sighed and started walking again in the same vehicle's direction, I know it's late too, but your car is on the other w…
Tim felt the blow push his entire being as Patrick accidentally pulled the wrong handle, and violently fell onto the tar, exploding pieces of what used to be until now his unique transport setting off some annoying alarms nearby.
...Gibbs jumped as he heard the awful sound and immediately approached the nearest window, his heart crazily beating under his skin. A car was burning down there, and the parking lot had just turned into a mess. He ran to the elevator without thinking, even ready to take the numerous stairs if necessary, when the automatic voice he hadn't expected loudly resonated inside the bullpen, Gibbs uselessly pressing the cage's button.
« This is a NCIS security message. For your safety, all accesses are now temporarily closed. Please do not try… »
Gibbs slapped the elevator's rectangle, checked the now closed door leading to the stairs, and ran again in the window's direction.
— McGee ! he uselessly shouted, pushing both palms against the glass, instantly taking his phone out of his pocket, dialing 911.
He kept staring at the unbelievable scene from his spot, the woman on the line asking for additional informations. Flames were still licking their pray between these three simple limits, white lines surrounding it and its wrong driver… Gibbs thought for a second of Leon and the numerous NCIS' Security calls he should already be dealing with, knowing his own would probably remain unanswered...
He felt one of his hand turn red another time as he hit with frustration another part of the window, knowing he should now wait for something to happen in order to let him out, and maybe save McGee.
« This is a NCIS security message. For your safety, all accesses are now temporarily closed. Please do not try… »