A/N: Sorry for the gap! I'll work on the drabble earned as promised, but this episode took me a lot longer to write than I'd planned, and other things in life took over attention. It's on my to-do list!
-C
"What have we got?" Gibbs snapped as he entered the cubicle space in the middle of the work floor. Tony's head snapped up as Kate put her purse away. Kate had been blending in well, but she and Chloe Lessing were still oil and water, and Gibbs had yet to put his finger on why.
"So much for small talk," Kate said.
Tony pulled out a little list he'd made and said, "Car crash in Quantico last night. No fatalities."
"Next," Gibbs said.
"Petty Officer caught shoplifting at Bloomingdale's."
Caught between amusement and annoyance, Gibbs said, "Is there anything worth over fifty grand at Bloomingdale's, DiNozzo?"
Tony's eyes narrowed and his head cocked slightly as he considered this very seriously before saying, "I don't think so."
"Then why would we handle it? Next."
"I heard a rumor about an ecstasy ring at Lejeune."
That was it. Gibbs stopped thinking cases and said, "You heard a rumor?"
Kate, far more amused than Gibbs could bring himself to be, said, "Oh, he's been searching for a case…any case, since I came in."
Tony read, presumably from his email, "All agents not working active cases are to attend a sexual harassment lecture at the NCIS Human Resource Training Center at zero-nine-thirty hours. Today."
Sexual harassment lectures had always been obnoxious, but in recent years they'd become increasingly unreasonable. Since Chloe Lessing had joined, Gibbs had attended two, and he hated it even more for noticing the subtle way Nate Wells grew increasingly tense and fidgety throughout the lecture, while Chloe stood at the back, shoulders tight and eyes on anything but the speaker. It was the only sign Gibbs had that there would be issues with rule twelve, and Gibbs wished he could unsee it.
"I cannot sit through another one of those," he said. "I will shoot myself."
Kate grinned and said, "You mean they actually train you guys how to harass?" she laughed, but Gibbs was struggling to find the humor. "Hey, I'm kidding," she said, blinking. "Except for Tony."
"For the last time, Kate," Tony growled, "I was only trying to get my seatbelt on."
"Right. Seatbelt."
Mercifully, the phone rang, and Gibbs snapped it up.
"Yeah, Gibbs."
"Gibbs," Chloe's voice answered through the line. "I've got Tony's salvation. Navy Commander corpse washed up on North Virginia Beach. I'm texting details to Tony and Gerald. And if you can find a way to pull me into this, I beg you, because Nate's got a case with Pacci and the Great Lakes, and I'm doing nothing, and I can't be doing nothing by zero-nine-thirty. Clear?"
It was everything he could do not to grin at her desperation, and he said, "Okay, we're on it."
He didn't wait for further information or thanks or pleas, but instead hung up the phone and announced, "Dead Navy Commander just washed up on North Virginia Beach."
"Yes!" Tony cried
"Shotgun!" Kate said, grabbing her gear.
"I hate when she does that."
Gibbs simply grabbed his gear and wondered why it seemed a good idea to take on more manpower, only to end up as a babysitter for unruly children.
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Chloe sighed as she put the phone on the receiver and texted directions to Tony. She didn't look up, knowing Nate was giving her his amused look. He thought it was hilarious he was out of the sexual harassment talk and she wasn't, but she had high hopes for this Navy Commander. Rumor was a shot up boat. She was thinking Coast Guard, at the least.
"Tony will be so pleased," Nate said, and she finally did look up to see him smirking at her. "He might even give you a kiss."
She couldn't help but laugh, and she said, "Tony harasses everyone, Nate. It's not really harassment. It's loving. Anyway, you invite me for drinks and coffee often enough, I could probably file for harassment."
His face paled slightly, and she quickly added, "But it's not, so I'm not going to."
He didn't seem convinced, but he checked his watch and made his excuses for leaving, needing MTAC. Chloe just sighed and stabbed her pen at a notepad while she stared lazily at her email inbox.
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When they arrived, the local LEO was talking to a woman who was very clearly a reporter, but Gibbs ignored her, pulling out his credentials and flashing his badge at the LEO.
"Gibbs, NCIS."
"It's about time you guys showed up," he said, clearly puffed up on the attention this death was getting him. Gibbs wished Chloe would have mentioned that the local LEO was an ass. "We've been running between the body and this boat all night long. Boat crashed ashore right in the middle of a beach blanket bingo. Hard to believe a Navy Commander getting mixed up in stuff like this."
"Stuff like what?" Gibbs demanded.
"Drug running," the man said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "DEA's working two dead drug dealers three miles north of here at Fort Story."
"Three miles up the beach and you tied it to the Commander?" Gibbs said disparagingly, but at least it was a way to repay Chloe for tossing this in their lap. Even if it was nothing, she could certainly pester the DEA from zero-nine-thirty to whenever the sexual harassment melee was over.
"They're all shot up," the idiot LEO said with a shrug. "So is his boat. Got to be a connection."
Realizing there was no way they were going to get anything sensible done until the woman standing with them left, Gibbs turned to her and said, "And you are?"
"Diane Fontaine, WXEK News," she said firmly. "I'd like to ask you some questions."
Before she'd even finished speaking, Gibbs barked, "DiNozzo!"
"Yeah?" Tony said, approaching.
"Escort Miss Fontaine off our crime scene please," Gibbs said, gesturing to the woman in question, and Tony turned on his charm.
"Miss Fontaine?" he said, gesturing and smiling, although she wasn't convinced. She turned to her crew, realizing she wasn't getting anything for the moment.
"Let's go, guys," Fontaine said, leading her people away, Tony following to make certain they left. Once she was out of earshot, Gibbs turned back to the LEO.
"Sergeant Linn, is it?" he said, smiling. "You in the habit of convicting people before the investigation starts?"
This stunned Linn out of his self-impressed stupor, and he said, "What? Hey, no. I—"
Whatever his pathetic excuses were, Gibbs didn't have to listen to them, because Ducky arrived and asked over the stupid man, "What have we got, Gibbs?"
"The Commander's wallet with this Sergeant's prints," Gibbs said, letting Ducky take the steak and run with it.
"You removed a wallet from a body without gloves?" he cried, outraged.
Linn looked startled and said, "I had to get the vic's name."
"He's not a vic," Ducky snapped. "He's a victim. Where did you learn crime scene procedure? Watching Kojak reruns?"
"Okay, now just hold on a minute," Linn said, frustrated, but Ducky ran right over him.
"What else did you do to my crime scene?" he demanded. "Alright, let's start at the beginning. Tell me what you did when you got here…from the top."
Gibbs just grinned, pulling out his phone to call Chloe, pleased to let Ducky handle the Sergeant while he gave Lessing the good news.
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She snatched up her phone eagerly as soon as it began to ring.
"Lessing," she said, checking her watch. She still had time for it to be freedom.
"It's Gibbs," he said through the receiver, and she thought he might be smiling. "You can clear your morning schedule, if you'd like. The local LEO, who's a dunce, by the way—"
"Sorry," she sighed, smiling as she relaxed in her chair.
"Yeah, he said the DEA is doing a drug running case out of Fort Story, more shot up boats. It's three miles, but it's possible there's a connection. Think you can drag that out to earn your freedom?"
Chloe licked her lips and pulled out her rolodex, flipping through for her buddies at the DEA.
"Gibbs," she said cheerfully, "if your victim and their drug runners sneezed in the same season five years ago, I'll find it. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."
"Erase that LEO?"
"I'll drop a few subtle complaints. Cheers."
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Gibbs walked down to the beach, and he saw Kate taking photographs of the scene. When she heard him approaching, she turned and said, "Looks like a herd to elephants went through here."
"Yeah, just one fat local LEO. Alright, Kate, bag this," he said, handing her the wallet. "I'll do the photos."
She blinked, confused, and said, "Tony told me what to do."
"Tony doesn't tell you what to do. I do. Your elephant said the Commander's boat got shot up. Why don't you grab an extra kit from the truck and work that scene?"
Kate started, and her eyes widened with excitement and confusion. He could see her breathing change through her layers of clothing.
"By myself?" she clarified.
"You need help?" he teased.
"No! I got it!" she said, about to rush over to the boat.
"Hey," he called after her, "have it towed back to the garage when you're done. And get the witness reports while you're at it!"
He took a few pictures before Tony sauntered over and said, grinning, "I need more assignments like that, Boss."
"Did you get her number?" Gibbs asked, thinking with amusement of the sexual harassment shindig.
"Oh, yeah!"
"You think he was shot or drowned?" Gerald asked, considering the body without touching it.
"Well, either way, he's dead," Tony said, frowning.
Gibbs smiled and said, "That's too bad. Good guy. He got you out of that sexual harassment lecture."
He took another picture, from behind the head, and he wondered how things were getting along, talking to the DEA.
"I'd rather be at the lecture," Tony said.
Ducky came over to the scene, fuming and spluttering and spitting mad. He shook his finger in the air as he declared, "That man is an imbecile. He shouldn't be a school crossing guard!"
"Yeah, move," Gibbs said, to Tony. "Haven't heard you this pissed since you shoved that French flic off a cliff, Duck."
Gerald's head snapped up and he said, "You shoved a French cop over a cliff?"
Setting up, Ducky shrugged it off and said, "There was a lake below."
Grinning, Gibbs said, "Sixty feet below. Duck, this crime scene's a mess. Can we move the body?"
"Why not? The imbecile obviously has."
Gibbs gestured and said, "Let's turn him over and see if he was shot in the back."
As soon as the body was over, it was clear he'd been shot in the back, but not through. Gibbs was already pulling out his phone.
"I guess we can rule out accidental drowning," Tony said, before snapping a picture.
"Oh, my friend," Ducky sighed. He shook his head. "Even if you'd survived the water, you would have never have walked again."
Gibbs was already dialing Chloe's number.
"The DEA found a couple of bodies up at Fort Story that might be tied to this," Gibbs said. "I put Chloe on the case, and I'm going to have her let them know we're on the way."
Grumbling under his breath, Ducky said, "At least they know not to contaminate a crime scene."
"Hey, you two clean this up – bag him," Gibbs said to Tony and Gerald. "Meet us up there."
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"Lessing," Chloe said, rubbing her eyebrow.
"Gibbs. What d'you know about the DEA investigation? Duck and I are headed up that way."
Chloe pulled her notes close and said, "Yeah, Agent Kent Fuller is running point. I don't know him personally, but my connections tell me he's solid enough. Likes to get things done. Gibbs, I filed that complaint about Linn. Anything else you need from me right away? I've got the FBI on hold for some reason, and I don't like leaving them on hold too long. They have a way of showing up when I don't answer."
"I want you to tell Fuller we're on our way, and then deal with the FBI. Oh, and Tony's not as grateful as you thought he'd be. Keep that in mind."
"Will do," she said, grinning as she switched to a fresh line and began to dial the number she'd scribbled down for Fuller. Tony would owe her drinks, later.
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A man with a stern expression and a straight posture was speaking to another man with a similar posture. Gibbs saw recognition in the first man's eyes, which told him this was Fuller.
"This must be him," Fuller said to the other man. "Special Agent Gibbs?"
"Yeah," Gibbs said, nodding to Fuller.
"Special Agent Lessing called," he said, "said you were coming. Agent Kent Fuller, DEA. This is Captain Bradstone, Army C.I.D."
Gibbs nodded, greeting the Captain, and gestured to Ducky, and said, "Our M.E., Doctor Mallard."
"Agent Fuller," Ducky said, shaking hands. "Captain."
"Looks like your Navy man fell in with a bad crowd," Fuller said, although Ducky wasn't listening to Fuller.
"Ah, Gibbs," Ducky sighed, looking around the scene, "this scene is pristine."
An amused Fuller said, "We're not amateurs."
"Who says they're connected?" Gibbs prompted.
"How many guys you know go out fishing in the middle of the night?"
"Me," Gibbs said, smiling. Chloe Lessing had just teased him about it the other day, asking him how he could fish if he couldn't see. He offered to take her sometime, so she could find out for herself.
Fuller just smiled and said, "Well, I guarantee you these two guys didn't. They met up with cargo ships off the coast and bring in coke."
Gibbs nodded, looking at the bodies, and said, "Where's their boat?"
"There's a drug war going on," Fuller said, shrugging. "I figured they got jacked for the boat and the coke."
"Captain, is C.I.D. working this crime scene?"
Captain Bradstone said, "The M.E.'s not available till tomorrow. And since this may have something to do with your Navy Officer, the Army has no objection to NCIS and DEA working it. Just send us all your reports."
"Yep, thanks, Captain," Gibbs said, making a mental not for Chloe to add C.I.D. to the updates list for the case. He knelt near the body and said, "Okay to touch, Duck?"
"You have my permission."
He knelt and opened the pocket, wondering what to make of the whole mess. He pulled out a wad of cash and said, "How many drug dealers you know dump the bodies and the cash?" he asked, holding it up so Fuller could get a good, long look.
Gibbs had a sudden curiosity why the FBI was willing to hang out on hold with Chloe.
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Chloe sat on Gibbs's desk as he sat in his chair and said, "So, I've added your C.I.D. man to the contact list, and I have a message from Fuller, wants all autopsy findings send to him straight as we have them."
"Go ahead," Gibbs said, and the elevator doors opened, showing a very angry Caitlin Todd.
Chloe had no way to explain her aversion to Kate, but it was largely mutual. It would be simplistic to blame it on their feelings about Tony, Kate finding him mildly repulsive and Chloe finding him entertaining. But it was a start.
"Thanks for waiting, guys," Kate said dryly, irritation rolling off her in waves.
"Chain of custody, Kate," Gibbs said, flicking Chloe's leg under the desk level as a cue to move before Miss PC made some comment about how Chloe's position on Gibbs's desk was inappropriate. "You had to stay with the boat."
Chloe slid off the desk and crossed to the empty desk across, sitting on it, trying not to smirk at Kate, who had clearly been hazed.
"I'm not stupid, Gibbs," Kate said darkly.
"Never said you were."
"I didn't have to ride on a tow truck with that boat, now did I?" Kate snapped, and Chloe faked a cough as she shared a glance with Tony. "You do this to all the newbies, or just the females?"
"Sounds like hazing, the way you tell it," Chloe said coolly. "But that would be sexist. D'you honestly think they're sexist?"
"Ask me who's buried in Grant's tomb," Kate said. "It's a tougher question."
Chloe felt her shoulders tighten, and her body jerked forward in a small motion, but she stopped herself before she slid off the desk. She'd not been in a fight since junior high, but she'd never left behind the instinct for it. As badly as she wanted to hit Kate, though, she knew there was probably a rule about that.
"Okay, okay," Gibbs said, narrowing his eyes slightly, perhaps seeing Chloe's reaction, "fun's over. Give me the highlights."
Kate put her gear down and said, "Nine students from UVA were having a beach party. Around zero-two-thirty, they heard what they first thought was fireworks out on the water."
"Gunfire," Tony said.
Condescendingly, Kate answered, "Good guess, Tony. The Whaler had six holes in its stern, two in the engine housing."
"Your Commander was retreating from something," Chloe said, tilting her head as she tried to picture the beach in her mind, tossing in Fort Story.
"Probably from a larger boat they heard racing up the coast," Kate said, nodding. "About fifteen seconds later, the Mary Celeste came roaring out of the dark and onto the beach. Scared the hell out of them."
Chloe hummed, and Gibbs prompted, "What'd you find on the boat?"
"Fishing gear," Kate said, reading off her list, "bait, coffee Thermos, ham sandwich. I logged everything. Sent it to Abby."
"No drugs?" Tony asked.
"No," Kate said, puzzled. "Is there a drug connection?"
"That's what our dear friends at the DEA suppose," Chloe said, stretching her arms. "They've got two aerated dealers floating ashore to Fort Story last night. Agent Fuller's convinced the two have to be related."
"Well, there were no drugs on the Whaler," Kate said, shrugging.
"You sure?" Tony asked, smiling. "I knew a granny in Baltimore – hid a kilo of "H" in her horse's rectum."
"No horse on the boat, Tony," Kate said, crossing her arms. "We're working a joint investigation with the DEA?"
"Yep," Gibbs said. "Chloe's keeping us on point, Ducky's got all three bodies autopsied, and Abby's drying the money."
"Money?" Kate said, raising her eyebrows.
"Yeah, funny, that," Chloe said with a smile. "Gibbs found sopping wet hundreds all over the drug dealers. Ever seen something like that?"
"I've got to see those bills," Kate said, inordinately excited.
"Why?" Gibbs asked.
"I did work for the Secret Service. We tend to get all hot and bothered over large sums of hundred dollar bills."
Tony raised an eyebrow and said, "Is that what does it for you?"
"What does it for me, Tony," Kate said, "is a mystery you will never solve."
Chloe looked down at her fingernails, picking at her thumb as she kicked her legs lazily.
"It's Grant, isn't it?" she said. "In Grant's tomb."
A frustrated Gibbs said, "Why do I feel like a high school principal?"
"I don't know, Boss," Tony said, and when Chloe looked up again, he was standing a bit straighter.
"If those college kids are right, whoever shot the Commander ran into the Chesapeake or up the Maryland coast. Find out which."
"I'm on it."
He took off, and Gibbs gestured for Chloe to follow him. If she knew him at all, she thought as she slid off the desk, they were about to get the details she was going to send to their friends at the DEA and C.I.D.
/-/
Gibbs stopped the elevator almost as soon as they got in.
"Fuller wants to be here when the autopsy is going," he said. "Call him in. I've already put Ducky on pause. I want you there while I'm following up on other leads."
He saw her lips twitch up slightly as she said, "Sure. Want me running him in circles, is that it?"
Gibbs just shrugged, starting the elevator as she pulled out her phone again.
"He didn't think people fished at night, either," he said, and she grinned, leaning against the corner of the elevator, turning her phone in her hands. "You still don't believe me?"
"God, no."
"Well, next Saturday night, you doing anything?"
"I am now," she said with a laugh. "Just tell me how to gear for it. Gibbs, does this count as sexual harassment? As someone who missed the lecture this year, I'm finding it hard to tell."
He felt his fists tighten for reasons he didn't think about, and he said softly, "If you were DiNozzo, I'd head slap you."
"Good thing I'm not DiNozzo," she said, sing-song, as she left the opening elevator.
Despite his better judgment, Gibbs's eyes traced down her back to her thighs, partially visible through her dress as she walked away.
Definitely not DiNozzo.
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Chloe watched Fuller as he watched Ducky beginning the autopsy, and she smiled to Gerald as Ducky told another story. Chloe rarely got to hear them to the end, and she always enjoyed the opportunity.
"The South Pacific," he was saying, "has a number of different refreshments. I remember one – where was it? New Guinea or Timor? Whatever the case, the natives had this delightfully refreshing drink. It wasn't 'til years later I discovered it was made from a mixture of rum punch and water buffalo urine." Chloe smiled and he handed a sample to Gerald. "To Abby, please, Gerald. They'd never seen a white man, and my life was in jeopardy until—"
"I've got to report in," Fuller said quickly, clearly disturbed by the autopsy.
"There's a phone over there," Ducky said, but Fuller left autopsy, presumably to use his cell phone. "Oh, well," he said, shrugging and smiling at Chloe. "You'll enjoy this, my dear. As I was saying, my life was in jeopardy until I cured the chief's wife of a terrible yeast infection." Chloe smiled and nodded, leaning on a nearby table to take some of the stress off her feet as she watched him work.
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Gibbs watched with narrowed eyes as on the squad room television, Ms. Fontaine, the reporter from the crime scene, was giving her report of the incident.
"Commander Farrell, a Navy ROTC instructor at Hampton Roads was found on North Virginia Beach this morning near the bodies of two alleged drug dealers. Commander Farrell, a founder of Urban Lights – a night basketball anti-drug program – may have been involved in smuggling illegal drugs into the Norfolk area. Expressing shock and outrage, a Community Center spokesperson said the Urban Lights basketball program will be suspended on all Norfolk Community courts…"
Gibbs turned off the television and decided to do a little digging in her story for himself.
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Chloe rubbed her eyes as she sat at her desk, organizing her case notes and flagging certain sections for sharing with certain departments. She had a horrible feeling they were going to have more alphabet soup joining the party before the end of this, and she glanced at her rolodex, praying silently the FBI would stay out of it. She didn't need a mess with her past when things with Gibbs were starting to relax.
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Gibbs approached the basketball game on the unlit, locked court. He checked the lock, jostling it to see if it opened. It was a solid lock, which meant they'd hopped the fence, despite its impressive height. The boys stopped the game to look at him, thinly-veiled nerves.
"You gonna kick our asses out?" one of the boys said.
"Nope," Gibbs said.
"You Five-Oh, ain't you?" the other boy asked.
"Sorta."
"Sorta?" the first boy said, frowning. "Yeah, right. I smell bacon."
Gibbs ignored the jab. These boys had felt targeted by police all their lives simply because of the neighborhood they were born in and the color of their skin. He glanced up at the fence and said, "Big fence to climb over."
"Not if you got hops," the quieter boy said, almost proudly.
"Whatchya want, One Time?" the bolder boy demanded.
"Get this lock off the gate," Gibbs said, flicking the lock. "You shouldn't have to hop a fence to play some basketball."
"You got heat to do something about it?" Kevin demanded.
"Maybe you do."
"We did," he said, and the boys laughed.
"That you did," Gibbs said, looking around the court. "It'd be better with lights." The boys tensed, laughter gone. "Answer me one question," he said. "I get the right answer, you have my word these lights will get back on."
"Shoot, Five-Oh," the quieter boy said, but his friend was much more cautious.
"Slow up, Bobby. What you mean…right answer?"
Gibbs leaned in and said, "Give me the wrong answer, I can't help you."
"Get out of here, Fed!" the boy said quickly, but Bobby seemed alarmed.
"What you doing, Bro?"
"He's a Narc, man. He's trying to get us to say Seadog was dealing."
Bobby shook his head and said, "So tell the bacon what he wants to hear if it gets our lights back."
Gibbs began to climb the fence as he kids argued over the matter.
"I ain't diming on Seadog!"
"Man, he's six feet below. He won't know."
"I will."
Gibbs's feet hit the ground, and their attention was back on him, and Bobby looked impressed and surprised as he said, "Man, you too old to hop wire."
"Want the question?" Gibbs asked.
"I know the question," the bolder boy said, frowning. "You're not going to like the answer."
"I will if it's the truth."
"Yeah, we could like. How you gonna know, Fed?"
"I'll know," Gibbs said, and the two boys exchanged a look. He had a feeling what their answer was going to be, and he was glad that it seemed to be the right one, but he needed to hear them say the words.
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Chloe crossed her arms as the briefing in the front part of the lab on the money recovered was carried out by Kate. Fuller was present, which was the primary reason Chloe deigned to show up, and she tried to listen politely. The case was important, but she and Kate struggled to be around each other.
"For the 1996 series," Kate said, "Treasure introduced microprinting as a countermeasure against computer printers and copiers. Good enough to stop high school kids, but not rouge countries and a few of the world's top forgers. It's got one tiny flaw."
They leaned over the bill and looked at the magnified microprinting. Chloe laughed when she saw the error.
"I'll be damned," Gibbs said with a grin.
"What?" Tony asked, frowning at the bill.
"You'd think a man who could find heroin in a horse's ass could find this," Kate said with a smirk.
With this, Fuller blinked at Tony, startled, and he said, "You reached into a horse's ass?"
"I had a glove on," Tony said defensively. "United States," he read off the microprinting. "What's wrong with that?"
Chloe smiled and said, "Look again, Tony."
He looked over it again and lit up as he said, "Untied States! So, the forger was dyslexic."
"Not just the forger," Kate said, and Chloe's smile fell.
Gibbs narrowed his eyes and said, "Who would pay drug runners with counterfeit money?"
Chloe's first thought was that it had to be someone who was a big gambler, but Fuller said, "I know you don't want to hear this, Gibbs, but the Commander could have bought with bogus bills. That's why they killed him."
Gibbs bristled, glanced at Chloe with a look that clearly said she needed to deal with Fuller, and then he said, "Commander Farrell was not dealing drugs. Tony, where did you find that boat was headed when they dumped the two bodies?"
"Well, according to the tide charts, since the bodies washed up at Fort Story, the boat had to have been entering the bay."
Kate almost rolled her eyes and said, "Well, that narrows it down. Even if we knew the marina, we still don't have a description of the boat."
"Then we'd better get one," Chloe said softly, frowning at Fuller thoughtfully. "We need to talk to someone who has it. Are you able to bring in the drug runners' boss?"
"Trujillo?" Fuller said, frowning back at her. "Sure. For as long as it takes for him to get his lawyers down here."
"Bring in the dirtbag that runs the rival gang, too," Gibbs said, catching on, and Chloe nodded.
Fuller looked between Gibbs and Chloe, puzzled and bewildered. He said, "These aren't a couple of sailors caught buying grass. These are pros. They won't tell you the name of their mothers."
Chloe's lips twitched as Gibbs said, "No offense, but maybe you just don't use the right tone of voice with them. Bring 'em in." Fuller shrugged and left the room to make the calls, and Gibbs turned to Kate and said softly, "Is there anybody at your old agency you can trust?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"Trust to what?"
"Find out who forged these notes and where they've been circulating," Gibbs said.
Kate glanced at Chloe with the briefest of triumphant nods and said, "Shouldn't be a problem."
"He means without telling their boss," Chloe said, smiling. "Without going through proper channels, which is me." Kate hesitated, and Chloe's smile became a smirk as she said, "That won't be a problem, will it?"
Kate sighed and said, "Gee, now why would that be a problem?"
Abby knocked on the window, and Chloe turned her attention as she signed that she got a match, and Gibbs signed back. They carried on a conversation, but Chloe paid it little attention. She was thinking of how she was going to deal with Fuller when he came back in, and how she'd handle the Secret Service, should Kate's friend not be as trustworthy as Kate assumed.
"What are you doing?" Tony asked, frowning.
"Communicating," Gibbs said, as he continued his conversation with Abby.
"Abby signs?"
"Fluently," Chloe said. "Her parents were deaf. She taught me in college, but I've never been as quick."
Tony raised his eyebrows and turned back to Gibbs.
"Where'd you learn?" he asked.
"She just said that the AK-47 round that killed the Commander came from the same weapon that killed our two drug dealers."
Chloe's head jerked up, impressed and pleased to hear this.
"Yeah," Tony said slowly. "Why didn't she just come out and say that?" The door opened, and Gibbs grinned.
"Hey, thank you," he said over her music.
She signed, and Chloe looked up in time to see that she had some more.
"Oh, she's got more," Gibbs translated.
Chloe turned off the music as Abby came around her computer and she said, "Please tell me it's good news."
Abby grinned and said, "I picked up GSR on the smuggler's hands. Their weapons were fired really recently. The Commander's was clean."
The computer beeped, and Chloe could see the wheels turning in Gibbs's head.
"They said Seadog didn't deal," Gibbs said, eyes narrowed.
"Seadog?" Tony asked. Abby signed that she didn't know, and Chloe and Tony followed Gibbs into the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, Tony said, "Who's Seadog?"
"Did you get that reporter's number, or was that just talk?" Gibbs asked Tony, and Chloe narrowed her eyes.
"Gibbs…." Tony said, grinning.
Chloe took a deep breath and said, "What reporter?"
"See if she's available for lunch," Gibbs said, ignoring Chloe.
"I'd love to," Tony said brightly. "Can I expense it?"
"No, but I will."
At this, the humor of Tony cottoning on was greater than her curiosity, and Tony sighed, turning to her as he said, "How do you sign, 'I should have known?'"
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Gibbs put on his charm as Miss Fontaine eyed him with suspicion over the table. To give this woman credit, she was good at reading people and a situation.
"You kick me off the beach and now you play the gentleman?" she said. "You must want something real bad."
"Oh, yeah," he said, smiling. "Bubbles okay?"
"Fine," she said, eyes still narrow.
"The panini here reminds me of Naples."
"No bread. I'm on TV, remember?"
He grinned and said, "So, is it true the camera puts ten pounds on you?"
"Five in my case," she said with a self-satisfied grin. "What do you want, Agent Gibbs?"
"Jethro," he said, trying to take a leaf out of Chloe's book and make nice.
"You're kidding," she said, raising an eyebrow."
"No," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Um…to have a nice lunch, to know you a little…"
"Ah, here it comes," she said, eyes narrowed.
"…to tell you a story."
She chuckled and said, "Jethro, Commander Farrell's old news. I'm onto fresher bodies."
He was wishing he could have brought Chloe along, but it would have spoiled the illusion.
"Aren't you interested in getting it right?" he said.
"I am," she said, with sincerity. "My producer isn't. He's interested in ratings."
"At the price of a man's reputation?"
"I didn't report anything that wasn't told to me by the cops."
"You didn't dig deeper."
"I couldn't," she countered. "You threw me out."
He smiled and knew Chloe was going to kill him, but it would be worth it if he could fix it.
"What if I let you in?" he said.
/-/
Chloe rubbed her hands together as she waited for Gibbs to arrive. Fuller was showing calm on the outside as the two drug dealers were waiting in autopsy, as Chloe and Gibbs had agreed.
When the doors opened, Fuller stood straighter and said, "Special Agent Gibbs. Frank Trujillo and Darryl Wilkins as requested."
"Over here," Gibbs said, leading the way over to the drawers. Chloe slid them open, bringing out the bodies. Gibbs looked at Darryl and said, "Is that a glimmer of recognition I just saw? It seems these two belong to you."
"Good," Darryl said. "I can slide, right?"
"Not if you killed them," Gibbs said as Chloe raised an eyebrow.
"I never scuffed anyone in my life," Darryl said, amused.
"I'm the only one not finding anything funny here, you know why?" Gibbs gestured to the Commander and Chloe leaned on the unopened refrigeration units, waiting until she had to close the drawers again. "This Naval Commander didn't die a natural death or fighting for his country. He died in a cross-fire between you two dirtbags."
"I want my lawyer," Frank said.
Gibbs nodded to Chloe who passed him the counterfeit bill.
"This was found on these two boys in the cooler," he said, holding it up. "It's counterfeit. It comes from a foreign government known to support terrorism. That makes you two dirtbags suspected enemy combatants under the Patriot Act. Chloe, read them their rights and put them on the first Navy transport to Gitmo."
"You have no rights," she said coolly. "You get no lawyers. You definitely don't have a right not to speak, and should you choose to exercise it anyway, you'll find the punishment for silence…most unpleasant."
Tony grinned, giving them more stories about Gitmo, and Fuller came over to Gibbs and Chloe, clearly afraid.
"Gibbs, we don't know who counterfeited that money," Fuller hissed. "Even if it does come from a country friendly to terrorists, you can't send them to Gitmo. They're US Citizens."
"Do you understand these rights you don't have?" Tony said, grinning.
Chloe just raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly at Fuller as Gibbs said, "Watch me."
/-/
Gibbs was filling out some paperwork in the squad room when he got a call from autopsy, where Chloe and Fuller were with the dealers.
"Your bluff worked," Fuller said. "Trujillo wants to talk. He really believed you'd ship him off to Gitmo."
Gibbs smiled, figuring Chloe would be furious for what he was about to say, but he didn't care.
"The secret of a good bluff, Agent Fuller, is not to bluff."
/-/
Chloe licked her lips as Trujillo explained to Gibbs, "The two men on ice are brothers. Jesus and Carlos Garcia. They run two of my boats. Fishing's been poor lately because of poachers in my waters."
"Your waters?" Darryl said with a smirk. "You own the oceans, Frank?"
"So, I kept my boats in port until our little dispute…could be settled."
Chloe appreciated the carefulness of wording, but Tony grinned and said, "I could recommend a Federal mediator." Everyone looked at him with various levels of exasperation, and he quickly said, "Sorry. Couldn't resist. You were saying?"
"Yesterday, I learned that the Garcia brothers took one of my boats out Sunday night and never came back."
"Without asking you, Jefe?" Gibbs said.
Trujillo nodded and said, "Sí. Sin mi permiso."
Darryl chuckled and said, "You ain't ballin' no more when your marks don't ask, Frank."
"¡Callete, tonto! Okay?"
"You can ride out that salsa spit, okay?" Darryl said.
"You believe him, Darryl?" Chloe asked softly, her hands folded.
Darryl shook his head and said, "There's no way he would come with real in front of my grille."
"Real in front of my grille?" Tony said, gleefully. "I've got to remember that."
As he often did, Gibbs ignored Tony and said, "You know what that tells me? As far as you were concerned, that boat was Trujillo's, fishing in disputed waters."
Shaking his head, Darryl said, "I wasn't hip to this 'til this narc dragged me down. Swear on my seeds, okay, we ain't whacked them."
"He's not lying to you," Trujillo said. "He didn't kill them."
Gibbs grinned and said, "Hey, this is good, Tony. You've got two rival dirtbags vouching for each other. You think Garcia charted out Frank's boat to some sports fisherman from Iowa?"
"Would they want to do anything illegal?" Tony asked, playing along.
"No," Gibbs said. "No. They were probably hauling drug smugglers."
"Or illegal aliens," Chloe sighed.
"Or run guns. Did we miss any potential charters?"
Trujillo narrowed his eyes and said, "I've told you everything I know. Can I go now, por favor?"
"Yeah," Gibbs said, shrugging. "Sure. Once we have the boat." Trujillo said nothing, but his jaw twitched, and Gibbs said, "Help me out here, Darryl."
"He's got GPS locators in all his boats," Darryl said, and Gibbs nodded, raising his eyebrows.
"Now, why didn't you tell us that, Frank?"
"I like to handle my own problems," Trujillo said.
Translation: he wanted to remove his own rogues.
"Not this time," Gibbs said, his voice hard. "This one is ours."
Trujillo weighed his options and looked at every face before he turned to Gibbs and said, "May I use your phone?"
Points for grammar, Chloe thought, as Gibbs pulled out his phone and said, "Yep." Trujillo frowned at the old-fashioned phone, but Chloe knew there was no point not pressing further.
"Name of the boat, Trujillo?" she asked sweetly.
He gave her a sour look, but she knew they were on the right track.
/-/
Gibbs looked around the marina, glancing up at the boat in question. Chloe was present this time, wearing her field gear. It was the only time he didn't see her in a skirt or dress of some sort, and while it should have been less distracting, there was something about not being able to see her calves that made his eyes drift toward her calves more often than usual.
"Can Tony sniff for drugs now?" Fuller asked.
They all looked up at his crew, and there was a suited-up dog on a chain leash.
"Tony?" DiNozzo said, grinning.
"Some coincidence, huh?" Fuller said as Chloe scratched the dog named Tony behind the ears.
"The deck's been hosed," Gibbs said, "but there's blood residue. Get me some swabs, DiNozzo. I'll start in the cabin. Chloe?"
"Bet he's a real stud," they heard Tony say as they crossed to the main cabin.
"He's neutered," Fuller answered, and Chloe snorted, sharing a glance with Gibbs.
"Would we take a boat like this?" she asked as he opened the cabin door.
"No, mine's better," he said, frowning as they entered. They looked around at the walls, so obviously covered with the signs of a gun battle. Chloe pulled on a glove and touched one of the bullet holes, and Gibbs stood behind her. "And it doesn't have any of this."
She hummed, and led the way back to the deck as the engine started.
"Oh, hell!" Tony was saying, grinning. "What kind of engine is in this thing?"
"Drug runner special," Fuller said, nodding at Chloe. "A blow Five-Oh-Two putting out eight hundred horses."
"Main cabin's a mess," Gibbs said, nudging her out of his way a bit. "Blood stains. Bullet holes. Found some bloody bandages on the bunks. One of them's hurting."
"Can I search for drugs?"
"Not yet," Chloe said, tucking hair behind her ear with her ungloved hand. "We've not processed the scene yet. Check the marina office to see if they paid a mooring fee and see where that leads. Then canvas the marina for anyone who—"
"Lessing," Fuller said, amused, "I'm a Federal Agent. I know who and what to ask."
Gibbs grinned as Chloe's neck stiffened and he said, "She forgot you're not a dog walker."
"Uh, that's very funny," Fuller said, frowning. "Come on, Tony."
Gibbs watched Chloe's lips twitch as Fuller whistled, and Tony the dog barked in response as Fuller led him off. Chloe led the way back to the main cabin, Tony following, and Gibbs found his eyes glancing down to her calves again, frowning.
"Wow," Tony said as the three of them stood in the cabin. "They should have hosed down in here."
"They did just enough to avoid attracting attention of someone walking by," Gibbs said, taking the gloves Chloe passed him before she opened an evidence bag.
"We're going to be bagging and tagging for hours," Tony said darkly. Gibbs thought of the scene, how it would have played out, how the commander fit into the picture, as Chloe knelt in a corner and considered the blood splatter.
"If I only had the time," Tony said mournfully, but Chloe didn't look up.
"What are you blubbering on about?" she asked, jolting Gibbs out of his reverie.
"You got the time?" Tony asked. "My watch is slow."
"You going somewhere, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snapped, not bothering to give her a chance to answer.
Tony shrank slightly, shifting the camera.
"Yeah," he answered sharply. "Back to work."
/-/
Chloe peeled off her gloves as they checked in with Fuller, who'd returned from his canvassing.
"Nothing from the marina office," he said, "but Jenny and Nancy were very helpful."
Tony perked up at this, and Chloe bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"Jenny and Nancy?" he asked, practically rolling his ears forward with interest.
"The girls on the sloop over there," Fuller said, pointing up the way to a pair of attractive-looking girls. At least from this distance. "They're sailing that beauty all the way down the Intercoastal Waterway to Miami for her owner."
"All the way to Miami…"
Gibbs, however, raised his eyebrows and said, "They're going to be there by the time you tell me how they were helpful."
"When they docked yesterday, there was someone on this boat."
"Description?" Chloe asked.
"Late twenties," Fuller recited. Glasses. Short hair. Gay or low on testosterone. They waved. He ignored them."
"No way," Tony said, grinning.
"That's what I said."
"What did they say?" Gibbs pressed, and Chloe's lips twitched as she tried not to laugh.
"They had a couple of cell phones. When he wasn't making calls, he was working a laptop. About one, Jenny started grilling some prawns. By the way, they're Aussies."
"Aussies!" Tony said, grinning. "I love Auss – So, Jenny was grilling prawns?" He switched to a business tone at a glare from Gibbs, and Chloe trodding sharply on his foot.
"Saw a white van pull up here. The guy with glasses was really excited to see the driver. She said they hugged a lot."
"Gay," Tony said, but Gibbs ignored him again.
"They describe the driver?"
"Same look as glasses without the glasses," Fuller said. "They brought some heavy suitcases from the boat to the van. Then they helped a third guy with a bandaged leg to the van. He must have been in the cabin the whole time. Then they drove off."
"And all we have on the van is a color?" Chloe said, clicking her pen to take a few quick notes, pressing her notepad onto Tony's back.
"Nope, I tried," Fuller said with a shrug. "All they could remember was that it was white. Can Tony sniff the boat now?"
"It's all yours," Gibbs said, and Tony the dog barked.
Fuller grinned, holding up a slip of paper, and said, "It sure is."
"What's that?" Tony asked as Fuller posted the paper.
"Asset forfeiture notice."
"Don't you have to find drugs first?"
"I used to worry about rules like that," he told Tony the human. "Then I met you guys." He tugged gently on Tony the dog's collar and said, "Come on," leading him down below. "Come on. Good boy."
Chloe finished her notes, relinquishing Tony the human's back, and Tony said eagerly, "I'm telling you, boss, Aussie chicks are definitely different from American chicks. A guy's even got to approach them differently. I'd have got more than the color of the van out of them."
Gibbs glanced at Chloe, who shrugged, and then he said, "I'm going to regret this, DiNozzo. Follow up on Fuller's interview."
They watched him sprint off and Chloe shrugged back her shoulders.
"He's going to be unbearable," she said, squinting toward Tony.
"He already is," Gibbs said, glancing down at the evidence bags. "FBI?"
She hummed. She had a few guesses why their friends on the boat would be of interest to the FBI, and several gave reasons for not waving back to the Aussie girls that didn't involve being gay or short of testosterone.
And none of them stopped her stomach from turning.
/-/
Gibbs and Chloe returned to the squad room, and as they were walking in, Gibbs spotted Kate.
"Hey, get anything from your friend?" he asked.
"Yep," she said, and her nervousness alerted him something was wrong before he spotted FBI Agent Fornell sitting in the bullpen. Chloe stopped dead in her tracks
"I knew you couldn't handle this," Chloe said, clearly channeling her anger at Kate instead of whatever was really bothering her. "You disappoint me."
"Me too, Lessing," Fornell said, leaning back in Gibbs's desk. "I thought she knew better than to trade down. Oh," he said to Gibbs, who was narrowing his eyes. Fornell gestured at the desk and said, "Is this yours?"
Chloe crossed and pulled out a chair from the empty desk for Fornell, and Gibbs noted that Fornell got up at her unspoken request without a fight.
"You need to seriously re-think your definition of the word friend," Gibbs said to Kate, who gave an exasperated shrug.
"If I were in Marcy's shoes, I would have done the same thing," Kate said.
Chloe opened her mouth, no doubt to say something snarky, but Fornell spoke before she could, smirking.
"Careful, Agent Todd," he said. "You're running out of job options."
"So, I once again have the pleasure of your company, Agent Fornell," Gibbs said, narrowing his eyes as Chloe sat on the empty desk, kicking her feet back and forth. "We're into more than phony Franklins and dead drug dealers."
"Much more," Fornell said, with a glance back at Chloe, who was fastidiously looking at her toes. "Those serial numbers match the batch of bogus bills passed by Nine-Eleven hijackers. Your killers aren't drug dealers, they're terrorists."
Gibbs frowned at Chloe, who seemed to be half-expecting these words, and he watched her shoulders stiffen, her breathing go shallow. She'd been dreading this, perhaps since the FBI went on hold on day one. So why didn't she say?
/-/
Fornell suggested Chloe help him set up the call in MTAC, although she wanted anything but to be alone with him in that moment. She knew he'd take advantage of the moment to grill her, to press her buttons to know if she should be assisting or not. He was looking for a reason to sideline her, and while she knew it was for her own good, she couldn't stand he wouldn't just take her word.
"You gonna be okay?" he asked as she input the call request, waiting for a response and approval.
"I'm always okay," she said smoothly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Chloe, it's terrorists."
Her neck stiffened and she said, "You know it's completely different."
Still, even as she said the words, she could see the glass from the café shatter into the street, feel the heat, feel phantom blood on her fingertips. Just as she could feel lips on the tender spot between her shoulder blades and trembling hands brushing her hair out of the way, over her shoulder.
Her stomach churned.
"Is it?" he asked. His eyes were full of concern, and she wanted to get the approval through so this would just end. "Chloe, you shut down. How am I supposed to know what you can handle? You didn't talk to me, you didn't talk to your cousin, you didn't even really talk to the psychologist!"
She looked at the keyboard and licked her lips, but she didn't dignify his pestering with a response. She could still remember her debrief, the questions she didn't have satisfactory answers for. They knew the answers but wouldn't accept them, and she couldn't offer up lies. Why give any answer at all when they were perfectly happy to draw their own conclusions?
"Look, I know there are differences, but Stockholm Syndrome—"
Chloe's head snapped up and anger wash through her and she said, "It wasn't Stockholm Syndrome."
"Your psych eval…"
He shrugged, but she saw the approval hit through and she stood, scheduling the standby with a three-minute delay, enough time to get the others in the room.
"They wanted an easy answer for a complex problem," she said softly, shaking with anger and emotions she didn't want to try processing. "And you know full well that they'd never have written down the truth on an eval. Go get Tom and Gibbs. We've got two and a half minutes before your boss is on screen."
She knew Fornell was giving her a pitying look, but she didn't want his pity. She wanted absolution, and he couldn't give her that.
/-/
As the two directors had their verbal joust, Gibbs kept a close eye on Chloe, and he noticed Fornell was doing the same. Whatever they'd talked about while they were alone in MTAC, Gibbs had a feeling it had something to do with the reason she left the FBI, and the reason her neck seemed stick-straight and tense since seeing Fornell.
"Since Nine-Eleven," the FBI director said on the screen, "the Bureau has compiled a worldwide terrorist database incorporating files from over seventy foreign intelligence services. Any prints lifted from that boat that are left by known terrorists will get a hit."
Director Morrow said, "Why didn't we have access to this database, Charlie?"
In a silky, evasive way, the FBI director said, "All you had to do was ask, Tom."
Chloe rolled her eyes and Morrow said, "If your Agent Fornell hadn't been here to get us priority, my feeling is I'd still be asking."
"Perhaps I should leave him there."
At this, Chloe looked up, no laughter in her eyes as she said, "You don't need to go to such extremes, Charlie. All you have to do is hard-wire us in."
He narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Sorry, Chloe. We like to monitor who is accessing our data."
Gibbs felt there was something uncomfortable in the way he said that to her, and her neck became, if possible, even stiffer.
"Hard to keep a list like this to yourself, Charlie," Tom said, verbally stepping between the two. "I'm sure when our colleagues who head the other agencies hear of this, they're going to be pounding on your door."
Chloe's hand twitched as if for her phone, a motion almost certainly done for the other man's benefit, and one he certainly didn't miss as he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh, hell, why not?" he said. "We're all on the same team. But Tom, Chloe, if any of our colleagues hear about this, I'll pull your plug and NCIS priority will follow the Sandusky, Ohio Fire Department."
"Understood," Tom said abruptly. "Thanks, Charlie." He turned to Gibbs and Chloe and said, "Good luck," on his way out of MTAC.
"I see where you cowboys get your chutzpah," Fornell said, nodding after Tom as Chloe pulled up the incoming database, cross-checking with the fingerprints scanned in from the crime screen. Photos began flicking onto the screen, and Gibbs put a hand on the back of Chloe's chair, looking over her shoulder.
"How long to scan the entire database?" he asked Fornell, but his eyes were on Chloe, who seemed to be awaiting some face to flick onto the screen at any moment.
"I don't know. No one's ever done it."
/-/
Chloe relaxed at the name and picture on the screen, pleased she hadn't seen any familiar faces before they got a hit. Fornell seemed to have backed off, as well, although she knew Gibbs would ask her questions. But he would ask later. They weren't relevant now, and one of the wonderful things about Gibbs was the way he resembled a pitbull – once he got his jaws in something, he didn't let go until he was done with it, not for anything.
"You know him?" Gibbs asked the room in general.
Kate said, "No," and Chloe shook her head, narrowing her eyes.
"His name is Saudi," Fornell said. "Same as most of the Nine-Eleven hijackers."
"The red star's new," Chloe said, gesturing to the star by the name. "What's that mean?"
"Active case with a high priority. He's one of the foreign terrorists wanted for the U.N. bombing in Baghdad. Believed to have slipped out of Iraq through Syria three weeks ago. Whereabouts unknown."
"Not anymore," Gibbs said, narrowing his eyes at the screen before leading them down to the bullpen. He was likely about to start diving directions, but Tony waltzed in, announcing his presence without preamble.
"It works!" he said, grinning. "I had Jenny and Nancy grill some prawns. They don't call them shrimp in Australia. Sip a really nice chardonnay with a wonderful bouquet. I didn't drink… just sniffed," he added when Chloe smirked at him.
"What the hell is he ranting about?" Fornell asked.
"I could have told you this was a bad idea," Chloe said to Gibbs, but Tony shook his head frantically.
"No, no, no, boss!" he cried. "I had the girls do exactly what they were doing when the white panel van pulled in to job their memory. It worked! They remembered the driver was wearing a company uniform."
Chloe licked her lips as she looked at her knees, trying not to laugh.
"Water company?" Kate prompted. "Phone company?"
"Jefferson power?" Gibbs added. "Vantage Cable?"
Fornell leaned back and said, "Milkman. Breadman. Hell, that white van could be from any of a hundred different commercial, county, or state outfits."
"It's a start," Gibbs said with a shrug.
"I'm not done!" he said, pulling out a black case from his pack. "I pulled this video tape from the security camera at the Mobil station on the road out of the marina."
"Very smart," Chloe said, slipping in the table and letting him control the buttons on the screen, the black-and-white footage of the station coming up.
"Any guy could have done it," Tony said with a shrug.
This, naturally, infuriated Kate, who quipped, "Guy? Learn to shut up when you're ahead."
Ignoring them all, Gibbs said, "What time did the girls say they saw the van?"
"Ah, around thirteen hundred."
Chloe leaned back on a divider and nodded as Abby approached.
"Hey, Abbs."
Abby nodded back and looked up at the footage.
"Are we submitting to the Sundance Film Festival?"
"Best terrorist film category," Tony said, pulling it back in time further.
"Sweet. So, if anyone's interested, the only prints off the boat I did match were the druggies in the cooler."
"Not the Commander?" Gibbs prompted.
"Negatory."
"Well, we've got our terrorist," Chloe said, knowing Abby would know who it wasn't just from her posture.
Tony gave Chloe a betrayed look and said, "You didn't tell me that."
"Who could get a word in?" Kate said.
"I ran those prints through the Bureau," Abby said. "I got nada."
"You did not have access to the full database," Gibbs said, his eyes still glued to the film.
Abby turned her annoyance on Fornell, saying, "You're holding out on us. That is not nice."
"Back it up!" Chloe cried as a white van flitted past on the screen. "That was it!"
"Yep," Tony said, slowing backing up to get a better look at the van and its driver.
Gibbs nodded, "Run it back," he said, getting it pulled back further. "Jefferson Power." He squinted. "Goddamn it, can anybody read that number?"
"Eight three one," Tony said promptly, giving Chloe a look. They'd been pestering Gibbs about getting reading glasses, so far with no luck.
"They've got to be going after the power grid," Kate said.
"I found traces of C4 in the stuff you bagged on the boat," Abby offered.
"Thank god," Fornell said, sighing. "They're just going to try to blow something up." Chloe must have snorted, because he said, "We've been sweating terrorists hacking into our power grid distribution software. That could shut down half the country. C4 indicates a hard target…. A power plant, which are all under tight security. Which is about to get a hell of a lot tighter."
"Probably a Jefferson Power employee driving," Chloe said, and she could almost feel the heat from a blast, seeing the glass shattering into a busy London street, the tears in her eyes half a reaction to the blast and half from regret for what she'd done to the people who'd been so kind to her.
"I hope he is," Fornell said, not even looking at her as he dialed his phone. "We'll have him before sundown. Terrorist alert," he added into the phone. "APB on Jefferson Power Company van number eight-three-one. I want to know where it's based, who is driving it, and I want it in five minutes."
He turned to them and said, "Thanks, you've all done a terrific job."
He kissed Chloe's cheek, shocking them all, before heading for the elevator.
As they watched him go, Tony muttered, "I feel like I just kissed my sister."
"I didn't know you had a sister, Tony," Abby said, bemused.
"I don't. I'm fantasizing."
"For god's sake, stop, will you?" Chloe said, rubbing absently at her cheek. Her hands still felt slick with sweat and phantom blood. She couldn't stop thinking of London, and she wished it had been anyone but Fornell to liaise.
"Fornell's got target fixation," Gibbs said softly, and Chloe hummed her agreement, sitting on Gibb's desk, but he didn't argue.
Kate blinked.
"Come again?" she said.
"It's when a fighter pilot gets so fixed on his target that he flies right into it," Tony explained.
"Ah, like you and women?"
"That August blackout was caused by a tree falling on some powerlines, right?" Gibbs asked.
Chloe thought back and nodded.
"Yeah, that sounds right," she said slowly.
He shook his head and said, "Ah, hell, these guys don't need C4. An ax will do!"
That was a very good point, and Kate sat down, pulling up what she could find from the previous blackout to compare with what they knew about their terrorists.
"Okay," Kate said, "here's the timeline for the August fifteen blackout."
"Put it up on the plasma, Kate."
She did, and they watched the interactive timeline. Kate narrated, "It started in Eastlake, Ohio, at fourteen hundred, and by the time it reached Indian Point in Buchanon, New York, all the Northeast and most of Canada was dark."
"Pull the state's power grid up off the internet."
Chloe blinked as she saw the information from the Virginia power company.
"Oh, god," she said softly. "That's…"
"It says three key failures in Virginia could cascade until every state from here to the Rockies is dark," Tony said, astonished as Chloe felt.
"Yeah, more than says," Kate said. She was not so much astonished as outraged, and Chloe could see why, easily. "It shows how! Wait," she said, doing a few keystrokes to make three of the nodes on the screen flash. "Take down those three flashing nodes simultaneously and you take out the entire Eastern Power Grid."
Gibbs nodded and said, "All we have to do is stop them from taking out one?"
"It looks that way," Kate said, looking back at the system more carefully. "I mean, if any two fail at the same time, the slack can be picked up. There will be blackouts, but it won't cascade."
"Well, which one do we go for?" Tony asked.
"Closest one," Gibbs said, pointing to it. "Right here."
Chloe pulled out her keys and was already halfway to the elevator. No sense wasting time.
/-/
Gibbs settled into the front passenger seat with Chloe driving, and he had a brief thought that with Kate and Tony in the back, it was like a family of four going for a weekend drive.
"Tobias has moved agents to focus on the three key nodes," Chloe said, setting her phone down. "He's emailed us the driver's photo, too."
"That was fast," Gibbs said, shifting his legs. She was easily the best driver of the three, not that there was anything wrong with how Kate and Tony drove, but she managed to combine fast and smooth. He suspected her father taught her on an airfield.
Her family certainly had the clearance.
"They had the van number," Tony said.
Kate passed her Blackberry forward and said, "Here. Take a look."
Gibbs glanced, but he didn't waste time on it.
"It's an alias," he said. What's he do?"
"He's a power line inspector," Chloe said, frowning as she considered an upcoming dirt road.
He sat up straighter, knowing what she was thinking.
"Is there a node at the end of that transmission line?" Gibbs asked Kate, gesturing.
Kate checked her map and said, "Yes, about a mile west."
"Take that road!" Gibbs said, but Chloe had already turned, going through a chain link gate. Somehow the ride was still remarkably smooth.
"I suppose you didn't want me to open the gate," Tony said dryly, and Chloe sped up.
"Hell, no!" Gibbs said, narrowing his eyes, looking for a sign of the terrorists. "They don't have to blow the nodes. This guy knows where to take down three transmission towers that'll do the same thing."
"Can we be sure this line is one?" Chloe asked, although she kept her foot down, obviously not wanting to risk it.
Gibbs said, "It crosses the node, doesn't it?"
Kate was not convinced, though, and she said, "Two lines cross this node, in and out. That's four places within a mile of the node that he can blow the tower down."
"Maybe we'll get lucky."
"Nobody's that lucky."
"Hmm," Gibbs said with a small smile. "We are."
He gestured to an Arab man on a phone, with a similar van.
"We don't know yet," Chloe said as she drove closer. "He might actually be a power company employee, Gibbs."
She made a…well, cute was really the only way to describe the squeak that came out of her mouth as she ducked slightly when the man began firing at them – the man from the database.
"No, I don't think so!" he said, pulling out his gun.
Chloe braked, putting the car in park, and surprised Gibbs by pulling her own gun – something he'd never seen her do in the line of duty.
"Freeze!" he cried, raising his gun, but the man didn't follow the order. The four of them raised their guns, and he and Chloe shot at the same time. No way to tell which one brought him down, and Gibbs wasn't wanting to take bets on it as the terrorist fell.
Because he had a feeling she got the chest, he got the head.
They rushed the tower, and Gibbs cried out, "The phone's got detonators!"
Kate leaned over the laptop resting on the tower, trying to figure out how far the plan got, and whether they needed to try to diffuse it on their own.
"Looks like the other two must have the same setup," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Looks like he's got all three phones set to the same number."
"How many numbers did he dial?" Gibbs asked, pulling he wires from the C4.
"Just six," Chloe said, wiping her brow with the back of her wrist.
Tony holstered his gun and said, "One more and it's badda-bing, badda-boom."
"Lucky he wasn't phone savvy," Gibbs said, and he saw Chloe grin. She'd caught his point, and was already walking back to the car. Probably for her phone to call Fornell.
"Savvy enough to wife three phones to the same number," Kate said.
"Yeah," Gibbs clarified, his eyes following Chloe "What if he used speed-dial?"
/-/
Chloe peeled off her vest and was just unbuttoning her blouse when she heard a knock at her apartment door. She wanted to tell whoever it was to go away, but she thought it might be a worried Abby, so she called for them to come in, that it was unlocked.
"Disappointed," Tobias's voice said as the door opened, and she rolled her eyes. "Don't they teach you how to answer a door at NCIS?"
"They figured you lot taught me," she quipped, gesturing to the coffee machine. He shook his head and closed the door behind him.
"We got the C4," he said. "All of it. Gibbs tells me you're the one who bagged Shakir."
Chloe shrugged. She didn't know how Gibbs would have been able to tell. If she'd put money on it, she'd have said he got the head, she got the chest, but she wasn't stupid enough to put money on a thing like that.
"Would you have diffused it?" Tobias asked.
"If I had to," she said, sitting on the sofa, watching Tobias lean against the island. "I didn't have to."
"You might have."
"It's different, anyway," she said, "building and taking apart. I only did it the once."
"He made you practice plenty of times, I'm sure."
Chloe closed her eyes, feeling sweat on her forehead, her heart pounding in her throat as she tried to remember the best place to put the wires. It was supposed to be idiot-proof, but there was still a better and a worse way to set things up.
Shattered glass, a pulsating wave of heat….
"What do you want, Tobias?" she asked softly.
"Does he know?"
"Director Morrow knows enough," she said, standing to pour herself a glass of water. Her apartment suddenly felt several degrees warmer.
Tobias raised his eyebrows as she filled her glass and said, "Chloe, I meant Gibbs. Does he know?"
"I expect he knows what was on whatever newsletter you sent out about it," she said. She took a few long gulps of the cold liquid, but it didn't seem to cool her down. "He knows enough."
"Chloe."
"And you know too much," she said coldly. "I don't work with you, and I don't work for you. Either have some coffee and be civil or leave and let me shower and change, but make up your damn mind, alright?"
Tobias watched her for a long moment, not deciding what to do. She knew he made his mind up quickly. No, he was waiting to see if she'd break down, tell him all the things he didn't already know. Chloe wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
He left without a word, and she began peeling off her clothes as soon as the door closed behind him, leaving a trail on her way to the shower. Her body shivered, but she couldn't get rid of the sensation left by the pulsating wave of heat.
/-/
Gibbs stood at the basketball court, watching the boys playing with the lights on, and watching a cameraman pointing his camera at a familiar woman with a microphone: Diane Fontaine.
"The lights are back on tonight at Community Center courts since Navy Commander Brian Farrell, founder of Urban Lights, was cleared today of any connection to the drug war which claimed his life last Sunday. A Community Center spokesperson issued an apology and announced that a commemorative plaque will be dedicated to the memory of Seadog, as Commander Farrell was affectionately called by the young men he strived to help have a better life. This Diane Fontaine, WXEK News. Now back to you."
She lowered her mic and said to her cameraman, "Doug, I need some B-roll on the boys."
The cameraman turned his lens on the players, and Diane crossed to Gibbs.
"How was that?" she asked.
"Very nice," Gibbs said with a smile.
"I can't guarantee that my producer will air it."
"You're trying," he said with a shrug. "That's a start. Thank you, Diane."
"You're welcome, Jethro," she said, smiling at him.
If he were Tony, he'd ask her to dinner, but he was already thinking of his upcoming fishing trip, climbing into his car and trying to decide exactly what to tell Chloe to bring for gear.
/-/
Chloe rubbed her arms as she sat in the boat, taking the thermos of coffee Gibbs passed her.
"So, this is like fishing, but at night, right?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
"Why are you whispering?" he hissed back, and she could see his grin in the moonlight.
"Well, isn't that part of the point?" she asked, stretching her legs and crossing them at the ankles. "The water is calmer, quieter, cooler, so the fish are more likely to bite."
"Unless you're screaming at the top of your lungs," he said, casting the lines, "you're not going to make much of a difference."
Chloe hummed, trying to get comfortable, but she felt everything she did, every shift she made, was wrong. She knew he was going to ask her about something, and she wasn't totally sure what it would be. But it couldn't be good.
Finally, when he passed her a ham sandwich, he asked, "What was Fornell asking you about in MTAC?"
She picked at a spot on her thumbnail that was trying to peel away from the rest of the nail. Chloe didn't really want to have a chat about this, not on a boat in the middle of the night with Gibbs, of all things. But he did have a right to know.
"You know my time in England was counter-terrorism," she said softly.
"IRA."
"Yeah. He just wanted to be sure I was…prepared. Mostly, I think, that I should be prepared, should I see any familiar faces as we searched the database. I didn't. We found a match first."
He hummed, and she closed her eyes, feeling hot breath on her skin, fingers tracing down her spine, another hand lifting her hair off her back and over her shoulder….
"Stockholm Syndrome must be tough to get over," he said pointedly.
A frustrated scream caught in her throat, and it took Chloe several long breaths before she said, "It wasn't Stockholm Syndrome. I don't care what my psych eval says, so don't throw it back at me. That's what they wanted to hear, so that's what they heard."
"So, what was it?"
Chloe glanced up at the moon and a shiver ran down her spine. She could still feel those fingers on her spine, even though nothing was there. She didn't give an answer, and Gibbs didn't press her for one, but she thought he could hear the silent answer seeping out from her every pore as she refused to answer.
Love.
The ultimate breaking of Rule 12, falling in love with her target. She couldn't say those words out loud, not to Gibbs, especially. She wasn't weak, she couldn't let him believe it was Stockholm Syndrome, but she couldn't stand to say the words out loud.
With Gibbs, though, the nonverbal was more powerful than words. She had a horrible feeling he already knew.
A/N: So, the day is saved, Fornell is pressing buttons, and Chloe's past becomes a little less hazy.
ALSO: I've finished the first drabble. I'll be posting it today, and the drabble collection will be a story called Rules and Promises. Keep your eyes peeled!
Review Prompt: Is Chloe wrong? Is it Stockholm Syndrome to fall in love with your captors, no matter the circumstances?
Q&A: Ask me questions, I provide answers here!
Cheers!
C