Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the writers, producers, et al of the television show 'NCIS'. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, internet persona, or other being, living or dead, is completely coincidental and unintentional unless otherwise noted.
A/N: In working my way through all the episodes of NCIS currently available online (links to all the NCIS eps are available through triple-W (dot) surfthechannel (dot) com (slash) show (slash) 151 (dot) html, doing as normal for ffnet's weirdo linking limitations – and the two eps of JAG that started it all can be found at megavideo), I noticed something that made Gibbs a touch easier for me to understand: In the episode Reveille (1.23), the ep started out with a nightmare that, when viewed with a total understanding of the major events that happen later in the series, reveals itself to be a powerful bit of precog (during the course of the nightmare, Gibbs sees Kate in a body-bag with a bullet hole neatly centered in her forehead). So, Gibbs isn't quite as puzzling to me as I'd previously believed – he's simply a very repressed psychic (who happened to be, once upon a time, a Marine – though that part is still a little hard for me to understand, 'cause I never did get the whole military-mindset thing). Yes, this means I went ahead and wrote Gibbs into the story.
This chapter rewinds the timeline a little, just to let y'all know.
Sand, Sun, and Sotol
You're the trainee, man. Shit rolls downhill. – Bart, Dawn of the Dead (remake)
"McGee!"
Tim's head snapped up from his computer. "Yeah, boss?"
"You find me that money, yet?"
McGee swallowed at the scowl on Gibbs' face. How is it that he can still make me fear for my job, even after all this time? "Partially," he replied. "The whole ten million was transferred to a bank in the Caymans, and then split. Four million stayed there, and the remaining six bounced through Beijing, South Africa, the Dominican Republic, Mexico City –"
"Where is it now, McGee?"
It was days like this that Tim really hated his job. "That's just it, boss, it's –"
"Do not tell me you lost it!"
"I didn't lose it!" McGee protested. "It's just that, well, it's not really anywhere." He hit a few keys and nodded towards the plasma screen. "Look."
A map of the world was outlined in blue on a black background. A small red dot blinked slowly in the Cayman Islands while a second small red dot seemed to wander aimlessly over the surface of the map. Tim got up from his seat and walked around his desk to stand next to Gibbs. He pointed to the Cayman dot, "That's the four million," and then pointed to the wandering dot, "and that's the six. It starts to get routed to a new location, and then gets re-directed to another location before the transfer is complete, so it's simply bouncing around in cyberspace."
A new voice spoke up from behind them, "It's playing The Floor is Lava. Cool!"
"What?" Gibbs said, turning to face Abby.
"You know, when you're a kid and you pretend the floor is made of lava and you go climbing over the furniture to get from place to place without touching it?" Gibbs blinked at her. She shrugged a little and started over. "Hey, Gibbs. I'm disappointed – you didn't come down to see me when I finished up with Hinton's computer," Abby mock-pouted.
"Tell me when it's stopped climbing over the furniture," Gibbs told McGee with a hint of dry irony in his voice before asking Abby, "So, what did you find on Hinton's computer?"
"Not a whole lot," Abby replied. "He liked playing poker online, but none of the sites that require money; apparently, he only played for fun. He also has no porn – I can't remember the last time I checked a computer and found no porn. There are some pictures saved on it – and before you ask, I've already checked most of them, and so far they've all checked out as family members; this guy had no social life at all," Abby's tone and body language clearly communicated her incredulity over this concept. "Other than that, though, the only other thing I could find was that he's got a freaky-high score on Minesweeper."
Tim couldn't help but ask, "How good?"
"Fourteen seconds," Abby replied, her earlier incredulity momentarily supplanted by an energetic awe.
"That's it?" McGee scoffed, smirking a little. "My best time is twelve."
"On expert," she clarified.
"Abby!" Gibbs derailed the side-conversation. "Anything that can tell us what we need to know?"
Abby shook her head. "Sorry, bossman. Hinton used his computer even less than you do. I mean, there's absolutely nothing on it. No hidden files, no encrypted files, and all the files he does have are exactly the size they're supposed to be."
The ringing of Gibbs' desk phone interrupted any further discussion. "Go over it again, Abs," he ordered before snatching the receiver off the cradle. "Gibbs," he barked into the phone while watching as Abby and McGee traded 'I hate it when he's like this, don't you?' looks.
"Agent Gibbs, this is Officer Daniels in Gallup," the voice on the other end of the line sounded competent – tired, but competent. "I was calling to let you know that I was just contacted by Hok'ee Whitetail from Cambry Airfield." Gibbs made a shooing motion towards Abby while the officer spoke. "Your agents were delayed on takeoff, so they won't be getting in until nine this evening… Um, that'd be eleven your time, I suppose." Abby and McGee traded another quick look before she headed towards the elevator. "I already let the transport down here know."
"What delayed them?" Gibbs asked.
The officer on the other end of the line sighed. "Honestly? I don't know. Other than watching Liz Cambry at the last air-show in Santa Fe, I've never dealt with her operation before, and Whitetail never said."
"Have my agents call when they show," Gibbs said before hanging up. He ignored the curious sidelong glance from McGee and checked the time – 1712. He mentally sighed. Why can't things ever go as planned? Picking up his coffee cup, he found that it was empty. He tossed it in the wastebasket and stood. "I'm going –"
"For coffee," McGee finished his comment without looking up. "Call you if the money finally parks itself somewhere."
Gibbs let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he headed for the elevator, grateful yet again that his team was finally back where it belonged, instead of being scattered to the four winds.
As he made his way from the Naval Yard to 'his' coffee shop, he mulled over the case they were working on. An anonymous tip had surfaced about a month earlier that something was being planned involving the Comptroller's office at the Pentagon. Considering the last time Gibbs' team had been involved with that particular office it had been when Commander Watson had used the kidnapping of his own family to cover up the theft of two million dollars, Gibbs hadn't been particularly thrilled at the prospect of something else going on there. When he informed his team of the tip, DiNozzo had commented that the Pentagon needed more stringent hiring policies. The comment had earned some odd looks from both McGee and David – neither of whom had been on the team during the Watson case – and a nod of agreement from Gibbs.
While working more-pressing cases, the MCRT kept as much of an eye on things as they could, helped along by several more anonymous tips. They'd attempted to track down their source, only to be led to one abandoned burn-phone after another, all registered under the moniker of 'Annie Onimus'. And then, three days earlier, one last call had been routed through to Gibbs' desk.
Unlike the other calls, this one had not been made from a cell. Instead, it came through as a collect call from 'Annie Onimus'. Though the name was female, the voice on the other end had been male, the synthesizer used in previous calls abandoned. The caller had also sounded scared and pressed for time. He told Gibbs that they were dealing with a heist, and that all the details could be found in his computer, which had been stashed in a locker at the Amtrak station in D.C. The last thing the caller had said was, "Hurry. Suzy scares the shit outta me, and I don't think Max can keep her under control much longer." Before the call could disconnect, however, Gibbs overheard the sound of a door slamming open and a woman yelling at 'Joshie' before a gunshot rang out. A couple of seconds later, the call was disconnected.
McGee had traced the call to room 253 of the Best Western in Gallup, New Mexico. Further digging had found the room had been rented by Joshua Hinton and that the 'Suzy' he had mentioned was likely Lieutenant Susanna Brussman, the Comptroller's current personal assistant, and 'Max' was likely Maxwell Arnette, a janitor in that portion of the Pentagon. When they'd gone to bring both employees in for questioning, neither could be located. They were on vacation, according to the Pentagon, and not due back for a full two weeks.
The team had easily located Joshua's computer, right where he said it would be, but in two full days of exhaustive searching, neither Abby nor McGee had been able to find anything at all on it. During the intervening two days, Gibbs had sent Tony and Ziva out to Gallup to retrieve Hinton's body from the local LEOs and any evidence that might have been collected in the hotel room, hoping that something might help clear up just what the hell was going on.
That morning, a call had come in that filled in some of the blanks – ten million dollars had gone missing from assorted accounts under the Comptroller's control. Gibbs knew who was responsible for it, but they had no hard evidence linking Lieutenant Brussman and Arnette to the theft. So, he'd put McGee on tracing the cash while Abby tore through Hinton's computer.
That there was nothing at all on it frustrated Gibbs to no end, and that frustration showed in his tone when he ordered his coffee – the barista, someone he'd not seen working before and so had to be new, nearly jumped out of her skin to fill it quickly. Hinton said all the information we needed was in the damn computer, but Abby can't find anything on it… Gibbs paused and ran the thought back through his head. Could he have meant it literally? He handed the coffee-girl a five and told her to keep the change as he snagged the white cup with one hand and pulled out his cell with his other. He hit the speed-dial for Abby's lab while hurrying back to the Yard.
She answered on the second ring. "Abby radio, you're on the air!"
"Hey, Abs," Gibbs said, heading for the stop'n'rob just outside the gates to the Naval Yard. If he was right, then Abby would need a refill. "Got a question for you."
"Shoot, bossman."
"Is it possible to hide something inside a computer? Not a file, but an actual physical something inside the physical computer itself?" The door to the convenience store dinged loudly and the clerk waved at him as he headed for the Caf-Pow fountain in the corner.
"If it was small enough, yeah. Why?"
"Because Hinton said that the info was in the computer, not on it. Check it out."
"Will do."
Gibbs disconnected the call and finished collecting Abby's drink. By the time he returned to HQ and strode into the forensic scientist's lab, Abby was busy scanning through information on her computer, bopping her head to the beat of heavy bass from her stereo. Hinton's laptop sat upside-down on the table behind her, the cover for the battery compartment lying at an angle across the case, and the thick black bar battery – with a scrap of scotch tape clinging to it – sat next to the computer.
When a full glass of her favorite fruity-flavored caffeinated beverage appeared in her line-of-sight, she stopped typing long enough to seize the glass. Abby took a quick pull through the straw and grabbed her remote to turn down the music. "There was an SD card hidden in the battery compartment. I haven't had much time to look through it yet, but it looks like Hinton kept a record of everything – there's text files, videos, photos."
"How long to go through it all?"
"Six or seven hours." At Gibbs' look, she defended her estimation with, "Hey! There's a lot to go through, Gibbs."
"I'll send McGee down to help." He turned to head back to his desk. While they're doing this, I may as well see if I can find what delayed DiNozzo and David.
Abby watched as Gibbs left her to her computers. She returned the music's volume to its previous level. "Something's bugging him," she whispered to herself, the sound inaudible over the noise from her stereo. She chewed on her lip a little, wondering just what it might be, before sighing and returning to scanning through the files on the SD card.
About five minutes later, the image on her plasma screen changed to show a map of the world with a couple of tracking dots. Less than a minute later, Tim strolled into her lab. "Hey, Abby. Gibbs sent me down, said you needed a hand?"
Abby nodded, "Yeah. Almost four gigs of text, photos, and video to sort through." She indicated the map on the wall, "I assume we're also supposed to keep an eye on the money, too?"
Tim echoed Abby's nod. "Uh-huh," he said, pulling one of the lab stools over next to Abby. "I'll take the text docs, if you want."
"Sure," she exited out of one window on the computer and pulled up a new one. "And I'll start in on the video."
After transferring the appropriate files to the system McGee was on, the pair worked in companionable quiet for almost a half an hour. "Is it just me," Tim broke the silence, "or does Gibbs," he paused and shot a quick glance over his shoulder to double-check that the man being discussed wasn't actually there, "seem more snappish than usual today?"
"It's not just you," Abby replied. "He remembered my Caf-Pow, but he definitely seemed distracted when he stopped by."
Back in the bullpen, Gibbs was flipping through the small amount of information they had on the case though his mind was elsewhere. He'd gotten through to the tower controller for Cambry Airfield and had been reassured that the late takeoff was the Airfield's fault – actually, Whitetail had admitted the fault was his own, as the pilot had needed to pick him up when his car failed to start that morning.
Realizing he'd just read the same paragraph three times without it making an impression, Gibbs tossed the pile of papers aside and removed his glasses. It was 1800 – six o'clock in the evening. Usually, this was about the time he normally told everyone to go home and get some sleep, unless they were working on a particularly intense case, but today wasn't really a normal day. Besides, he really did need whatever information was on that memory-card, and it wasn't like he could just go home when Abby and McGee had to stick around and work. Well, he could, but he didn't want to. The downside was that there wasn't anything for him to really do at the moment – and he hated feeling useless.
Downing the last of the coffee in his cup, he tossed it in the trash where it made a hollow, rattling noise against the other empty cups in the bin. He debated going after another refill, but decided not to bother. Agent Balboa nodded a greeting on his way to Director Vance's office, which Gibbs returned, before looking around the room. As it was the end of the day, most of the other agents were getting ready to go home. The new girl on Balboa's team was chatting with one of the guys from Legal, discussing dinner plans.
There's an idea, Gibbs thought. Maybe Abby and McGee will have something I can use when I get back. For the second time in as many hours, Gibbs headed out of the building.
The evening rush was never the greatest time to try to order take-out. The crowd at the pizza place was making Gibbs edgy – almost like he was waiting for something, but didn't know what. The line at the pick-up counter was ten deep as soccer moms and single businessmen ordered their suppers and the general level of noise in the packed restaurant was giving him a headache. When he finally made it to the counter, he almost ordered a sausage, pepperoni, and extra cheese before he realized that DiNozzo wasn't going to be eating with them. The next pizza that immediately sprang to mind was the chicken-and-veggie mix that Ziva preferred. The cashier didn't notice the wry look that flashed across Gibbs' face as he placed his order.
After being told that it would be thirty to forty minutes before the pies were done, Gibbs parked himself against the wall next to a bench already crowded with other customers awaiting their dinners. Several minutes later, the woman on his immediate right spoke. "Waiting for a call?" She was pretty, in a tired sort of way, with a mass of curly brown hair, and was holding a little girl whose hair was identical. Despite the noise, the little girl was sleeping soundly on her mom's shoulder.
Gibbs looked down and found that he'd been toying with his cell. "No," he told the woman. "Just checking the time," he said, replacing the phone in his pocket.
From his tone, the woman – who had just been trying to make conversation to pass the time – knew he didn't really want to be bothered. But she had to smile to herself when, less than five minutes later, the phone was back in his hand. After watching him fidget with the cell for nearly twenty minutes, the clerk at the counter called her number. As she stood, she smiled at him. "You know, I'm sure your phone would be happier if you just call whoever it is you're waiting to call you." She adjusted her grip on her daughter and headed for the counter without waiting for a reply.
Gibbs scowled when he found the cell had made its way back into his hands without his consent. Ah, to hell with it. He flipped the phone open and hit speed-dial. If nothing else, I can complain about them taking off late.
The call didn't ring through, though. Even with the crowd noise around him, Gibbs could clearly hear an overly-polite female voice. "The subscriber you have dialed is outside the service area. Please try your call again later."
"Order 519!" the clerk shouted over the din.
Gibbs snapped his phone closed and stepped forward to claim the pizzas he'd ordered. What did you expect? He tried to ignore the twisting sensation behind his stomach. Shoulda had them take a sat-phone with them.
A/N2: Okay, so… I'd originally planned for this chapter to start back at the beginning of the story and tell things from Gibbs' POV, catching him up to when I left off with Tony, Ziva, and Lizzie, but the muse had other plans. I'm not sure whose POV the next chapter will be, but I do know that there will be at least one more chapter from Gibbs' that will cover searching for the misplaced team members. Once I'm done with the story (however long it winds up being), I'll likely go back and reorganize the chapters so that the timeline doesn't bounce around so much. Sigh – when am I gonna learn not to start posting a story until I'm done writing it?
Since this is a new fandom for me, I would really like to know what y'all think…good? Bad? Too OOC? Lemme know, please, especially since I don't really feel like I did Gibbs justice here.
