Chapter 4
"Where is Agent McGee?" Nikki asked.
"On special assignment at the Pentagon," Tony answered, not looking up. "What do you need, Jardine?"
"I was just coming to prove to him that I can go without my mask when I need to," she said.
Tony looked up and, sure enough, Nikki was standing there, face open to the world. She grinned at him.
"That's all you wanted?"
She flushed in embarrassment. "Well...he was teasing me about it yesterday. So...yeah, I guess so."
"I can take your picture so he can preserve it for posterity if you'd like," Tony said, holding up a camera.
"No...no that's okay, Agent DiNozzo," Nikki said, backing away. "I'll just have to gear up to leave my mask at home again when he gets back." She hurried back up the stairs to Intel, leaving Tony behind to shake his head at some of the people who worked at NCIS.
"What did Jardine want?" Ziva asked as she and Gibbs entered the bullpen.
"To see McGee. I think she might be forming a little crush on our resident computer geek."
"Really?" Ziva asked, amused. "Are you sure it is not you Jardine has a 'crush' on?"
"Me?" Tony asked. "I don't think so, Officer David."
"Did this place suddenly turn into a daytime talk show?" Gibbs asked, smacking Tony...and then Ziva on the head.
"No, Boss...but I think it might be pretty cool if–"
Another smack cut him off.
"I want you two to go over to McGee's place."
"Why? He's at the Pentagon."
"Just call it a hunch. I want you to verify that he's not there."
Ziva looked at Tony. "You wish us to go to McGee's apartment which is empty to make sure that it is indeed empty? Why?"
"Something doesn't fit, David. Look around and then head over to the scene and double-check with the property owner to see if he's remembered anything."
"Okay, Gibbs. If you say so," Ziva said, quizzically. She threw a look at Tony and then picked up her bag. They left together both wondering what was going on.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Levi Carew hung up his phone and leaned back in his chair. The office was empty and he had a few minutes to think. It was funny how Timothy McGee's name came up when he least expected it. He'd given the agent barely a moment's thought since they had parted. He set up the surveillance and then left them to it. Every so often he'd examine the reports, but seeing as there was nothing going on, he hadn't worried. Now, after getting a phone call from the only person he answered to, i.e. the President, and after a report on Tim's disappearance, he found himself thinking about Tim and wondering what had come up that had required his abilities.
Curiosity well-piqued, he sat up and picked up the phone again.
"Yes, sir?"
"Tell..." Here, he had to pause. She had changed names again. What was it this time? "...Alexis Greene that I need to see her."
"I believe she's out on assignment."
"Well, then, you'd better call her back in, hadn't you?"
"Yes...yes, sir. I'll see to it."
"Thank you." Carew hung up again and pondered some more. He didn't have to be involved...in fact, he'd been fairly firmly told not to be involved, but that didn't stop him from wondering. ...and he was in a position that allowed him the luxury of investigating things that made him think.
Besides, if someone else was using the man he had, in effect, created, he wanted to know who and why.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Why are we doing this, Tony? It does not make sense. Gibbs talked with the Director. She must have verified it. McGee is still being followed around by those CIA people. Why do we need to check?" Ziva asked as they drove to Tim's apartment. Tony was driving.
"Aren't you the least bit curious about why the Probie is suddenly the man everyone wants to use? ...especially considering everything that happened is supposed to have remained classified?"
"Things have a way of getting out, Tony. Scuttlebutt?"
"Even so...I don't like it, either...and McGee is just too resigned to it. I agree with Gibbs. There's something else going on."
"Perhaps there is, but we are not to know. McGee has not told us. Director Shephard has not told Gibbs. No one seems to know except them. If it is not what we expect, then, they are doing a very good job of hiding it."
"Yes...and that makes me worried. McGee hides things, but he doesn't like to hide them. If he's hiding something, it must be big because he hasn't said a word about it."
They reached Tim's building, parked and broke into his apartment.
"Man, the more we break in here, the more I think McGee should just give us all a key...save us the trouble."
Ziva chuckled. "You really think that anyone in their right mind would give you free access to their home?"
"I'm very considerate."
Ziva snorted this time. "Yes, very considerate." She walked around the apartment. "It is very clean."
"That's the geek for you."
"He left his phone," Ziva said suddenly, holding it up.
"McGeek left his phone? Why would he do that?"
"Maybe they did not wish him to make outside calls while working at the Pentagon. McGee did say it was top secret."
"Still..." Tony turned to go into the bedroom, but stopped beside Tim's computer. "Hey, look at this, Ziva!"
"What?"
"McGee made another box!" He picked it up and removed it from its place on the shelf. "This is a lot better than that piece of crap he keeps on his desk. Why not show it off?"
Ziva held out her hand and took it, looking at it from all sides. "It is very nice. Strange-looking but nice. I do not know. I would think he would rather have this one be seen than the other." She shrugged and replaced it. "I guess we can ask him when he gets back."
"Yeah, sure." Tony walked toward the kitchen. "Hey, look! A little shelf thingy! Looks like McGee made this one, too. Did you know he was still building stuff?"
Ziva stopped in her movement toward the bedroom. "No. I did not. Gibbs must. I do not see any carpentry tools here. McGee must be working with Gibbs."
"Why didn't he tell us? This is pretty good," Tony said. "Why does he show us only the crappy box and not the good stuff?"
Ziva shrugged again and went into the bedroom. "Perhaps he wanted to have something private in his life, Tony. He does not have very much."
"Yeah," Tony agreed. For some reason, he suddenly remembered the time, years ago, when he and Kate had essentially invaded Tim's apartment, looking at his stuff, stealing his food (Kate had taken a Diet Coke from the fridge), making fun of his private life. Now, Tim didn't really have a private life...and what little he did have...they were invading again. "You done, Ziva?"
"Yes. I do not think there is anything indicating that something bad has happened. It looks as though McGee has gone to the Pentagon as he said. We will just have to wait until he gets back." She walked out of the bedroom and saw Tony looking speculatively at the little hand-made shelf, holding Tim's salt and pepper and a few other spices. "Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing's wrong. Let's go and see what the landlord has to say."
"I am driving this time. You are too slow."
Tony rolled his eyes but didn't protest, causing Ziva to look at him in surprise as she took the keys.
Tony was quiet the whole drive over.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Anything?" Jenny asked.
Cynthia laughed. "Director, he has been gone for only a few hours. It's not likely that he'd be calling yet...but to answer your question, no. No one has called the line. However..."
"What?"
"Agent Gibbs is suspicious."
"That was to be expected," Jenny said with a sigh. "We'll just have to hold him off. Pass him along to me when he starts getting anxious. I'll deal with it."
"Yes, ma'am...better you than me."
Jenny chuckled. "Yes. Better for you. Worse for me."
"You are the Director."
"Good-bye, Cynthia."
"Bye, ma'am."
Jenny leaned back. She hated to admit it, but she was very worried. Tim shouldn't have to deal with all this, but when the President called, everyone had to answer. What she hadn't told Tim, and hoped she'd never have to tell him, was how close it had come to her being required to hand him over to...someone else. Knowing what Tim could do, knowing what he already had done, the heads of every federal agency (except the CIA, interestingly enough) had tried to lay claim to him. They had wanted to have control over that ability, over Tim. He would have lost what little life he had then possessed, given over to "serve his country," in the power of someone else, of course. Jenny had called on every favor, had cashed nearly every chip she possessed to prevent that from happening. SecNav had only sided with her reluctantly. In the end, it had been the President who had swung things her way. She had managed to get an appointment with him and, sitting in the Oval Office, she had told him everything that had happened, everything that had been done by Tim and to him. He hadn't answered her right away. In fact, he, personally, hadn't answered her at all. It was that blasted phone call that had set up things they way they now stood.
Tim was allowed...allowed...to keep his job, to live his life, but with the understanding that if he was needed, really needed, by any group who could make an adequate case for it, he would be loaned to them for however long they wanted him. Jenny had managed to derail every request thus far, and the requests had petered out when they realized that she would be fighting them tooth and nail. The other requirement was the need for absolute secrecy. Because of what Tim could do, what he had done, no one would be allowed to know that he was on a very short list of experts who had, in Abby's words, such mad computer skills, a man who had secretly hacked every spy satellite, every federal agency...without being found out. The NSA, in particular, had been chagrined to discover that they had been hacked without their knowledge. It was too dangerous to let others know about Tim's status. One word in the wrong ears could result in Tim's death...or worse, in their eyes anyway, his capture.
She had known that it was only a matter of time before an undeniable request would come through. She just hadn't expected the President to be at the bottom of it. Jenny sighed again. She could only hope that Tim would get through this. She hated seeing the look in his eyes: loneliness.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Lawrence walked through the cabin on his way back from the bathroom and saw Tim, sacked out, snoring loudly. He picked up Tim's right wrist, changed the time on his watch and smiled when Tim didn't even shift. He knew Tim had been tired.
As he settled back into his seat in the cockpit, he checked his instruments, knowing that they were sure to be off course...intentionally.
"So...how is he?" Thompson asked.
"Out like a light."
"Good. That means we can start heading at least slightly toward our destination. How much fuel do we have?"
"Enough." Lawrence paused. "So...what do you think of him?"
"I haven't seen enough to know."
"Right. Thompson, you know people after seeing them for two seconds and you got at least two minutes with Tim McGee."
Thompson shrugged. "He doesn't like being here. He doesn't like that he's doing this. I don't find that to be a very good recommendation, no matter what he can supposedly do. Why him?"
"I told you. It was a recommendation from the President."
"We don't have to do everything the President says."
"I know, but I agreed with him. He doesn't trust us now, but he's willing to give us a chance."
"Is that why you broke protocol and told him not only your real name, but mine as well?"
"He won't break my trust."
"Are you sure of that?"
"As sure I can be."
"Well...if even you can overcome your well-developed sense of paranoia, I suppose I can as well."
"Just wait. You'll see. He's what we need." Lawrence looked down at the instruments. "We should start heading south about...now."
Obligingly, Thompson steered them south. Another hour and they'd touch down at the airport. Then, it was just another hour or two driving before reaching home, sweet home.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
It was one truck stop of many like it on this road. The car carried three men, two women. No one took any notice of them, and they didn't worry about being noticed either. They were secure in their anonymity. No one knew where they were going, why, or what would happen when they got there. All the better.
The women used the restrooms while the men purchased some snacks. One of the women complained about how fattening they were. The other smiled and ate a twinkie. One of the men decided to take a pit stop before taking his turn to drive. They still had a long way to go.
After ten minutes, they were all back in their car and heading on their merry way.
