Freeze Frame 4: Dead Man Talking:

by gaben

A dead Marine, a burned out car, a poker chip, a trophy bullet, a cold case, a bunch of lies and a broken promise. What do these things have in common, and how will these threaten Marley's new life with Gibbs and Gill? Fourth in the Freeze Frame series

4. Charlie Foxtrot

FREEZE FRAME 4: Dead Man Talking

SUMMARY: –A dead Marine, a burned out car, a poker chip, a trophy bullet, a cold case, a bunch of lies and a broken promise. What do these things have in common, and how will these threaten Marley's new life with Gibbs and Gill?

Fourth in the Freeze Frame series.

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own NCIS.

Previously : The NCIS team identified the body of Corporal Patrick Devlin. The missing cold case of over 12 years was signed off by Mike Franks. Ducky and Abby have concluded that the young corporal was murdered. The last to see him alive were his poker buddies, one who seems to be missing from the witness list. At this stage, the team believe his death could be related to his work with sensitive intel from Singapore relating to an operation involving terrorist's threats pre 9/11. While further investigations are made witness interviews are set up for the Semper Fi gang who found the body. Ducky, not pleased with Marley's deception while in his care, dealt with her while Gibbs and Gill were away. Gibbs is to return to head the investigation.

Chapter 4: Charlie Foxtrot: Interviewing the Semper Fi gang.

FREEZE FRAME: Cut to mid shot of Marley now standing in the door way, an empty wooden box in her hand and an array of poker chips raining down around her. Convert Black and White, CUT.

Fade into Ducky's living room. Marley is sitting in a large armchair.

Marley was up just before sunrise, which wasn't surprising, seeing she had gone to bed so early. She had always been a bit of a night owl. Now with the changes in her life and the incentives, which it seemed the whole NCIS team supported, and her habits were certainly changing. Still, she had lain awake for some time the previous night, unable to ignore the sting in her tail and the nagging tug to her gut regarding the case of Patrick Devlin.

At first it was kind of exciting to watch how the team nutted out the facts and made the connections to the victim, the possible motives and even suspects. She had seen what they were capable of with her mother's death and, of course, their expertise and eye for details with the rescue of her Uncle. But, those cases were close to home. Most of the time she was too emotionally connected and angsty about the case and outcome to take a great deal of notice of the teams' investigative procedures. This time it was different. She didn't know Patrick Devlin or have any connection to him, so she could watch as an interested bystander. That was, of course, until she had seen those poker chips.

So at the first sign of light, she wandered down stairs to Ducky's living room, hoping to find her cell and text the boys an important message. She had a little mission for them. Hopefully Jarrod's mom, Chelsea, would let the boys detour to Rose's storage shed. She quickly found her cell on a small lamp table next to a large arm chair. She made herself comfortable and started texting away, giving Jarrod clear instructions of what to look for and hopefully where. She hadn't been there the entire time Gill and Gibbs had packed up Rose's apartment, so she could only hope the box was where she had stored it.

Marley waited patiently for a reply, and was relieved when the ping alerted her Jarrod's response, "No probs. CUNCIS HQ."

"Who are you texting at this hour?"

Marley's head shot up at the sound of the familiar voice. She placed the phone on the table and ran to the figure standing at the door, "Gibbssss." She was all smiles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to deliver a kiss to his cheek. "Where's mom?"

"Back at the lake. She'll head home tomorrow night"

"So it's just you a me tonight. Hey, let's eat out."

"Well that's a nice complement, young lady. I suppose I should just discard this hearty breakfast, and we could all get some powdered eggs and cardboard flapjacks at the local diner on the way to headquarters," scoffed Ducky.

"No need, Duck. I grabbed some on my way here," said Gibbs, holding up a brown paper bag.

Marley's eyes lit up. "Ohhh great blueberry, I can smell them from here." Marley grabbed the bag and ran off to the kitchen.

Ducky shook his head. "At least, Jethro, I can make you a decent cup of coffee. I have this new Italian blend I think you will adore."

Gibbs didn't have the heart to tell him that he had downed three coffees during the three hour drive there. "Sounds great!"

Gibbs and Ducky headed to the table in the kitchen to find Marley propped on a chair, with her legs tucked under her backside, already eating from the Styrofoam plate. Ducky handed her a china plate with cutlery. Marley looked bewildered. "Who eats pancakes with a knife and fork, Ducky?"

"You do," he declared.

Before Marley could object, Gibbs tilted his head sideways at the twelve year old. Marley complied without further argument.

Ducky handed Gibbs a steaming cup of coffee. The small cup was a little awkward. Like Marley, he would have preferred it in a takeaway or a mug, at least. But these were Ducky's rules, and he was not about to undermine his good friend.

Ducky handed Gibbs the morning paper before sitting down to his breakfast of English grey earl tea and muffins with apricot jam. He smiled at his extended family, knowing that the formal breakfast etiquette was a little out of their comfort zone, but very much appreciating their efforts.

"Are we all going into NCIS together?" asked Marley.

"Nope, you're with me, so eat up," said Gibbs as he searched for his reading glasses. He found them. Then once he had them on, he peered over the top rim at Marley. "I want to talk to Ducky while you get dressed." He gulped the last of his coffee, then started to read the paper.

"What about?" asked Marley.

Gibbs folded the paper back and just glared for a moment, then smirked when he saw Marley practically dry swallow her blueberry pancake. "You gonna sit properly on that chair and finish up, or are you gonna have a conversation with me about yesterday."

Marley untucked her legs and sat properly on the kitchen chair, wriggling slightly to get comfortable again. "I had a conversation with Ducky already," gulped Marley.

"I noticed… Good, hope I don't see the need to add my two bits worth."

Ducky laughed, "You know in my day, it was your two penny's worth."

"Yep, inflation, Duck," winked Gibbs.

"Hmm, you know it was an extension of the 16th century term a penny for your thoughts. I'm sure Marley has thought a great deal about yesterday and now understands not only my expectations, but my sincere concern for her well being."

"I do, Ducky, really. I promise I will always let you know where I am from now on," Marley added quickly.

"All of us, Marley," added Gibbs. "You got anything else you want to say, before we head in?"

Marley put her fork down once she finished her breakfast, though she could do with a long cold glass of orange juice. "I guess I should be apologising for worrying you and Gill," she answered.

"Didn't worry us at the time, we didn't know anything about it until you were home safe."

"Oh, that's good then. So you weren't mad?"

"Didn't say that," said Gibbs dryly.

Ducky laughed and got up to clear the dishes, while Gibbs continued to stare at Marley over the rim of his glasses.

Gibbs was waiting. Marley knew he wanted something from her, but she wasn't sure what. Ducky poured a fresh glass of orange juice and handed it to the girl.

"Thanks, Ducky." It finally dawned on Marley where Gibbs might be going with his intimidating stare. "Oh… You trusted me to behave for Ducky. I let him down. You're disappointed I undermined him. Well, me and Ducky talked about that, and well his hand sure didn't undermine his feelings about that."

Gibbs nodded his head. "You are lucky that he didn't, because if I remember rightly there was a much more severe consequence promised if you were to ever knowingly put yourself in danger again."

"Gee, Gibbs, that is such a dumb rule."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, but let her continue.

"Well, I mean, who knowingly puts themselves in danger, except your team. They're trained, I get that. But I didn't knowingly put myself in danger. I went on a bike ride with the gang. Ben found this really neat spot to have a second command camp. It was really cool. Even the car was really cool. It isn't there anymore, but the four trees still are. It's like a fortress. You wanted me to have fun with kids my own age, and that's what we did. And until the fire, that I didn't start by the way, Sam did, or maybe it was Tom. Anyway, we did all the right things. We called the fire department, and put the fire out. The skeleton in the car was a bit of a shock. But even then we really didn't see much, and we weren't in any danger. Can I get a new bike, Gibbs?"

"Only if you don't go crossing major FREEWAYS!" yelled Gibbs.

Marley tried to ignore Gibbs's emphasis on the word freeway. "Deal," she squeaked.

Gibbs crooked his finger and called her over. Marley sighed and got up and went to his side.

Gibbs pulled in her in close and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you have made good friends and had a great adventure. And you're right. You handled the situation well, and did the right thing. It's all good. You're a good kid, Marley, just no crossing busy freeways anymore, And let one of us know where you are. Got it?"

"Got it, Dad."

Gibbs smiled. "Get going we've got work to do," he said, sending Marley off with a sharp swat to her pajama clad backside.

"Oww, what was that for?"

"My own little reminder, kid," laughed Gibbs, secretly happy that Marley was indeed behaving like a typical twelve year old and not feeling totally responsible for all the crappy stuff that seemed to happen around her.

Marley scowled, but took off, before Gibbs added any more.

As soon as she was out of ear shot, Ducky handed Gibbs another cup of coffee.

"No more for now, Duck. Wouldn't mind a juice, though."

"Very well, Jethro." Ducky poured Gibbs a fresh glass of juice and sat it down beside him before taking a seat opposite. "So did you get in touch with Mike Franks?"

"Yep, but it was short. He remembers the case. It was signed off due to the sensitive Intel Devlin was working on. Franks couldn't get into it."

"Did he have any personal insights? I'm pretty sure there's an eighth man on that poker team that wasn't named."

"That your gut telling you something, Duck?"

"Mike Franks would have worked that out. He's too good an investigator not to have found him."

"He did, but the investigation was stopped before he officially confirmed it. He investigated off the record. He is sure that the eighth man wasn't there on the night. But now the body's turned up he'll set up contact with him."

"He can't give you a name?" asked the curious ME.

"Nope, says he will set something up with Abby. I've got a set of numbers for her. She'll know what to do."

"You got any ideas who it may be?"

"Yes, I do," he responded with a resigned sigh.

Gibbs said no more. He drank his juice, put the glass down, and walked back to the living room. Ducky followed, then stopped in the door way and watched Gibbs pick up Marley's cell phone and scan the messages. "Ducky? Mike say anything to you at Nic Hanson's service, before he took off?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes. If I remember rightly, he was watching you, Gill, and Marley. He smiled and said… 'Don't worry, Ducky. You tell Leroy, it's about time… And that little girl, I got her six, too.'"

Cut away Abby's Lab. Abby is at her computer mumbling to herself excitedly when Tony walks in.

"Abbs, what've you got?" asked Tony as he rounded the door way into the lab.

Abby jumped. "No, No, Tony, it should be Gibbs asking that. But then it can't be him yet, because I'm not finished, and I'm not sure. Well I am, but I'm double checking. Major Mass Spec is double checking, though, really, we both know that we're sure. Major Mass Spec, that is, not you. You couldn't know. You couldn't have even guessed. Trouble is, I don't know if this good, or not. It's like definitely weird, really weird and intriguing, like how this has just turned up like this and all. Gibbs is going to be blown away, but worried. God, maybe I shouldn't confirm this yet. I mean I could be wrong. I could not just find out the truth. Heck, I better stop Major Specs now, because Gibbs will insist on the truth even if he doesn't like it, just like when …" Abby suddenly stopped talking.

"What, Abbs, just like when?"

"No, no, Tony, I'm not sure yet."

Tony took a huge breath, wondering whether he should pursue the alarm he heard in Abby's ramblings or not. He decided to not. "Okay, Abbs, what have you got for me then? Anything from the evidence you can tell me about?"

"Oh, yes lots, Tony." Abby called him over to the bench where she had laid out all the evidence and the photos from the crime scene. "Okay, Corporal Devlin's dog tags and clothing all had traces of blood, except for his tie, which is kind of unusual. His skivvies and shirt had the largest stains, just about everything else degraded over time. But the dry stains under his jacket area still came up with minute traces of cerebro-spinal fluid found in with the traces of blood. His tie had nothing; zilch. His jacket, what was left of it, had traces underneath the right shoulder pad. Which probably means the jacket and the tie were put back on Patrick Devlin post mortem."

Abby moved onto the bag with the poker chip. "Eight Bells, which was the name of Corporal Devlin's poker team. These were manufactured in China, Shanghai to be exact. They are not inlaid with the traditional ivory, but mother of pearl. This particular shell was used in a number of goods manufactured by a company in Shanghai, though the company no longer exists. The shells are actually found in the harbor there. Tim's trying to find out more, like how many of these chips were made to order and who ordered them. But, more than likely, Patrick should have had his whole kit with him, not just one, unless the team kept them all together; which might make sense if they were preparing for a competition the next day. Not like bowling, I mean I have my lucky balls, well one ball really, and there's no way I would let that out of my sight before a competition. Someone could sabotage it."

"Always thought you had balls, Abbs."

"Gee thanks, Tony." Next Abby came to a mobile phone. "Now this; the crew found it in the glove box of the Ford. It's Patrick's cell phone."

"I can see that, Abby. Can you get information off it?"

"Of course, in due time, but more importantly it looks like an ordinary Nokia 5110 released in 1998, but it's not. Well, not like the ones that were distributed here. It's a 5110i, made specifically in the Asia Pacific region for that region. They were never released here. The 5110i has a longer talk time and standby time and has a more ergonomic, redesigned, silicone keypad. But this one is different again. This one has, 1900 MHz instead of the standard 900MHz generally used at the time. It also can convert analog calls. But, like the normal 5110 it also features the game Snake."

"Snake? I remember that, it was a heap of fun. Does the phone still work?"

"Yes, Tony, but the battery's kind of dead. Not to worry, I'll have it re-charged in no time. Meanwhile, I've extracted the numbers and am doing a call register from thirteen years ago, which is taking some time. The point is, though, this is a very unusual phone, one that was not available here or on any consignment equipment lists."

"Could it have something to do with the classified translation work?"

"Maybe. He definitely would have access to some high tech communications in 1999 with this little baby."

Tony held, up the cell, and examined it. "It's hard to believe how far these things have come in such a short time."

"Moving on, Tony, there's more. Here's the gun; definitely registered to Corporal Patrick Devlin. The clip was full, minus two bullets. One was found in the head rest of the car. It matches the entrance and exit wounds to Patrick's head. However, the casing was found outside the car, beside the driver's side door. From the angle of the entry wounds and where the casing was found, Patrick was shot by someone outside the car. Ducky was right; Corporal Devlin could not have shot himself."

"You find the other bullet?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure it's in that area somewhere. Tim took these photos from the crime scene. Here on the tree, there's what looks like a bullet hole. Measurements suggest that it was most likely the same size of the shells used in Patrick's weapon."

Tony scanned several other shots of the tree, including one with the carving BL and EL claim OO2 on it. Next to the carving stood a young boy Tony identified as one of the Semper Fi gang. "What's this, Abbs?"

"Oh, Timmy found that carving on the same tree as the bullet hole. Seems Ben and Ethan had staked their claim on the four tress as their second headquarters, cute hey? If I can compare Ben's height to the height of the bullet hole and then work out the growth patterns of the tree I should be able to estimate within a couple of millimeters the angle and height of the bullet. Then I can work out from which direction it came. It would be good to have the bullet too. That way, it would be another good reason to conclude that Corporal Devlin was definitely not alone in that forest the night he died."

Tony chewed on his bottom lip and examined the photograph closely. "Abbs, do you remember the bullet I gave you a month back. The one I found in the tree house. Did you end up testing that?"

"Oh, oh, yes, I did." Abby ran over to her computer, and called up the file. An image of the bullet appeared. Abby cross referenced it and overlayed the image over the bullet found in the victim's car.

"Yep, that's the second bullet. It had had traces of tree sap in it, which would make sense. But it's totally intact. I'd say it was a misfire or something. I can do some tests on it. From markings and dents I can work out where the first impact took place, maybe even get an angle read on it."

"Do that, Abbs. I'm taking those photos with me. I want to ask our Semper Fi heroes a few questions." Tony slipped the photos in a manila folder and headed out of the lab, only to run into Gibbs and Marley coming through the door.

Abby swung around at the sound of his footsteps. "Gibbbsss…" she said before turning back at the sound of Major Mass Spec's ping… "Oh, Gibbs, you have to see this …"

Gibbs stopped in his tracks. "Di Nozzo…" he called.

Tony stopped and returned to Gibbs's side.

"Take Marley upstairs with you. Keep her there with the gang. I'll be up as soon as I finished here."

"Good idea, Gibbs," said Abby.

Tony and Marley both frowned but did as they were told. Before they entered the elevator, Abby caught up with them, and pulled Marley into a bear hug.

"What's that for, Abbs?" asked a confused Marley.

"Oh nothing, just glad you're okay. We're family, right? Families do that sort of thing when they've been worried about each other."

"Sorry, Abbs, I didn't mean to worry you too."

"Never apologize, remember, Marls."

"I remember. But I'm making my own rules now, so I'm gonna tell the people I care about I'm sorry when I've hurt them."

"Hey, there's no hurt, Marls."

Marley smiled, "Yeah, we're family, aren't we? Crazy sort of... Now if only I could get Gibbs, the dad, to marry Gill, the mom, we'd be sort of normal."

Abby laughed, "Yeah, sort of normal, but not too normal, I hope."

"No chance of that," quipped Tony. "Normal I mean. Now Gibbs marrying Gill, well that…"

"Di Nozzo!" bellowed Gibbs, "you've got interviews to start. Or do you need some help with a bunch of twelve year olds?"

Tony and Marley jumped in the elevator before Gibbs could bark at them again.

Gibbs waited for the doors to closed then turned to see the bouncing forensic Goth beaming at him from ear to ear. "Abbs," said Gibbs, "what have you got?"

"Something big, Gibbs, I wasn't sure but Major Mass Spec has doubled checked it. I cross referenced Corporal Devlin's DNA and particulates with any incidents on the base or in the DC area over thirteen years ago. Well, actually, I went back fifteen years because…"

"Abbs!"

"Gibbs, you are not going to believe this…"

"Try me!"

Cut away interview room one. Tony and McGee are seated on one side of a long table while the Semper Fi gang, including Marley, and the newly co-opted Jarrod are seated on the other.

"Shouldn't we have a lawyer present? asked Ben.

"Yeah, or a child prodigy or something?" added Tom.

"You mean a child advocate," corrected Sam.

"Yeah, that."

"You don't need any of them. You are merely giving a witness statement. You are not suspects, and this is not an interrogation," said Tony.

"That's what they said to me, guys, when I first came here. But they get all sorts of self incriminating evidence out of you," quipped Marley.

Tony glared at Marley, realizing she was showing off a little in front of her friends. Great, up until now Marley had been very straight forward with them. They didn't need peer group pressures added into the mix of things.

"Oh, like this could be a real big green weenie, then?" asked Ethan.

"Hmm, tea and sticky buns, fellas. Be careful," added Jarrod.

Tim suppressed a smirk when he saw Tony's glare and his confusion. These kids were going to give him the run around. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it. "Marley, we're here just to get a statement. True, we are investigating a murder, but one that you weren't around when it was committed. I'm here to take down your statement, a combined one."

"And besides, you already incriminated yourselves when you started a fire," retorted Tony.

"But, the fire authority has settled that," said Ethan.

"And our folks," groused Jessica.

All six kids groaned.

"Come on guys, give the agent a go. He's got a job to do. This agency is not into boondoggling," ordered Ben.

"Boondoggling?" frowned Tony.

Tim laughed, "Their using military and marine slang, Tony. It means…"

"In Australia we call it a wombat," interrupted Jarrod.

"Whatever, remember this is Gibbs's team." Ben liked Jarrod, but, for whatever reason, the kid kept translating his jargon just before throwing a smile at Marley.

"So this is Gibbs's head shed?" asked Jarrod.

"You're right, Ben," said Sam, "and these two don't look like fobbits."

"Airheads," added Tom.

"nongs or nuff nuffs," translated Jarrod.

"numpty's" nodded Ethan.

"Oh, he does a bit," said Jessica pointing to Tony.

"I get it, I get it, loose the ambiguous terms, just give the details of the discovery yesterday. McGee, you ready?"

Tim opened the lap top and waited until someone started talking.

"Ben, isn't it?" asked Tony. "You start it. You other dudes can add something as we go along."

"Well," started Ben, "it was no Charlie foxtrot until we got to the trail. Ethan and I were there last year, and we were sure we could find the way. But, our ETA was a little off."

"Yeah, but a year's a long time," defended Ethan.

"You should have drawn a map as soon as you got back to camp," groused Sam.

"Sure sure, in hindsight that's a good idea," said Ben.

"Go on fellas, no arguing. I got the story so far," motioned Tony.

"We're not arguing, just grabassing," explained Tom.

"Shit stirring," said Marley. "That's what they call it in Australia, don't they Jarrod?"

Ben parroted Marley's voice and added some fluttering eyelashes before mumbling, "bull shit."

"Hey, language," scolded Tony.

"How do you spell that?" asked Tim.

"S.H.I…" Marley started.

"No, I mean the first one,"

G. R.A.B…. concentrated Tom.

"McNot helping!" snapped Tony. "Okay, you, who are you?" Tony pointed at the blond haired boy seated next to Ben.

"Ethan."

"Go on, Ethan."

Ethan lifted his folded hands from the table and gesticulated. "So we find Disneyland, east. The four trees are going to be a sort of a Stumps 29 you know. Figured we could turn it into a boot camp of some kind. Tom spotted the Maverick."

"Maverick; a rebel, plays by their own rules. Yep I know that one," smiled Tony.

Most of the kids rolled their eyes, except for Tom. His eyes lit up. "Nah, it's a cool car, like 1976."

"Older than my mom," added Sam.

"But better looking," teased Ethan.

"Shut up, eight ball."

"Oh! Who's the eight ball, didn't see me grabbing my weenie when the fire broke out."

"ENOUGH! Okay, Tom, right?" Tony pinned the taller dark haired boy sitting at the end of the table with a stare. Tom shifted nervously before Tony continued, "The kid that likes cars, right? What happened then? AND NO MORE INTRUPTIONS!" He yelled, making eye contact with each of the gang.

"Yeah, Semper Fi, guys. Stop devil dogging, Sam," ordered Ben.

"Okay, okay," they chorused.

"Right then," said Tom. "The Maverick was a real beauty. It had a heap of camouflage over it too, which was perfect. The bonnet and a long tree branch, which had all these vines over it. It looked like a M3 Hellcat."

"Na, more like a M22 Locast," corrected Ethan.

"No, it wasn't. It was a dead ringer for a Sherman VC Firefly," said Jarrod.

"Hey, they have them in Australia, too?"

"Yep, we got em from you blokes. "

"Okay, enough with the discussion. It looked like a tank," snapped Tony.

Tom resumed the narrative. "Yeah, not a big one; more a medium MBT. Anyway, I started working on that and the rest of the gang started pullin weeds from the belly. Well, it was getting late. Marley had no Cinderella, Liberty. So Sam got this bright idea, to burn the rest of the weeds out of the back.

"Yeah, what a Gomer," said Jessica shaking her head.

"How was I to know there was was still gas in the tank," defended Sam.

"The vines were pretty green. There's no way they woulda gone up," supported Tom.

"Don't matter, the whole thing turned into a real goat rodeo once it caught on fire," concluded Ben.

"Everybody started putting out the fire…"

"I called Uncle David at the tower," nodded Jessica.

"Anyway, then Ben…"

"Then I started pulling the smouldering vines from the driver's side, and…"

"Wham bam, thank you ma'am, he pulls out an arm," exclaimed Jarrod.

"You know the rest," said Tom. "We could have bugged outta there before Chief Lindsey came, but…"

"Well, we weren't sure if there were any Cacevacs," explained Ben.

"Well, except for Marley really needin to get home. She went white as a sheet when she saw you guys turn up," described Jessica.

"Yes, and we know how that turned out too, don't we, Marley," smirked Tony.

"Uncle David would have figured out it was us," sighed Ben. "But, Marley and Jarrod are newbies, so we figured we could get them evaced without anybody noticing."

"Now no more smoking and joking for us for two weeks," grumbled Tom.

"Agent McGee, you make all of that out?"

"Pretty much, I think," frowned McGee.

Good because I hardly understood any of it, thought Tony. "Right, you can all go back with Mc Gee here, and he'll get you to sign the statement."

"Oorah!" they chorused.

"Yeah, oorah! But, Ethan and Ben, I want you two to stay."

Marley and the gang got up and filed out the door with Tim behind them.

Tony opened the file he had on the table and spread out three large photographs of the tree. "So here, this where you guys staked your claim a year ago, right?"

Neither boy answered, wondering if this is what Marley was referring by self incriminating questions.

"Well, you all ready told Agent McGee that it was, so that's not the problem here, guys," Tony appeased, trying to make the boys feel a little more relaxed.

"There's a problem?" asked Ben.

"Yep, see here? This is a bullet hole. We found the bullet that was in there. One that was on the trophy wall in the tree house. Did you dig the bullet out?"

"And what if we did?"

"Nothing, I just need to add that bit to your statement. But I want to know if you actually dug it out of the tree. And did you find anything else that could help us with our investigation?"

Both boys sighed with relief. "So that bullet was the one that killed the guy?" asked Ben.

" No, but it was a bullet from the same gun."

Ethan looked surprised. "Wow, yeah we dug it out of the tree. Figured someone must've had some target practice."

"Find anything else in the area?"

"We found some more trophy spoils," offered Ben.

"A few other empty riffle cartridges and stuff, an Indian arrow head… Oh, and a really neat rusty pocket knife." Ethan was getting excited about the prospect of having found real evidence to a crime. It was almost as good as a real war zone.

Ben, on the other hand, was a little more guarded. He reminded Tony of Gibbs in a way. He was the obvious leader of the gang and protected them all, but most of the time he was a young man of few words and short questions.

"Good, have you still got these things?"

" Why?"

"We need them. They could be evidence."

"Yeah, I think they're at the tree house. In the chest, you know Ben, the chest we use as a table," informed Ethan.

"Okay cool, I can get one of my agents to go get them."

"You need a warrant?" asked Ben.

"Nope, not really, not if you give permission. You would really be helping, you know. This guy, who died, he was a loyal marine. Then he worked in a specialist area, making sure we caught terrorists."

"Wow, a secret squirrel," said Ethan.

Tony ignored the excitement of the younger boy and continued to squarely, man to man, at Ben. "He's been missing for a long time. His family deserves to know what happened. Anyone of those things could be evidence," explained Tony.

"Suppose you can test them. Will they really help?" asked Ben.

"Yep, you'd be doing a real service here, Ben… A real good job." Tony said sincerely.

Ben smiled. This guy wasn't so bad. He wasn't military, but he was real cool anyway. "Okay, Agent Di Nozzo, you have my permission. Anyway, the tree house belongs to Gibbs."

"Here's a map, can you pin point where you found them?" Tony unfolded a map of the four trees clearing. And the boys stood up over it.

"Sure, most of the stuff was found within the wire," explained Ben as he pointed to the map. "Though, can't remember where we found the pocket knife, my WAG on that would be…"

"No, I found that on the old fire trail, just before you enter the clearing," piped up Ethan.

"Well done, fellers, come on we can add this stuff to your statements."

Cut away to Abby's lab.

Gibbs stood in front of Abby's computer. "What are you gonna do, Gibbs?" asked Abby.

"Find out the facts first; but, it could be motive."

"Or not, Gibbs, really do you believe this could be all connected? I mean what's the chance that an assault and rape report from thirteen years ago could connect our victim."

"We'll know more when we talk to the eighth member of the poker team. Here, Franks has set up a video interview. I want it put through down here. We've got fifteen minutes."

"Okay, Gibbs. Typical, Mike doesn't like MTAC."

"Nope," Gibbs said as he fiddled with Abby's video comm, then punched a key. "Ducky ?"

"Gibbs, well done. Did you do that all by yourself?"

"Yeah, old dog new tricks. Duck, can you get down here? I want you in on this interview with Frank's guy."

"Gibbs?" asked Abby, "am I recording?"

"Yep." Gibbs then punched his phone pad. "Di Nozzo, you finished those interviews?"

"Good… No get to that later. Yep, send them home. Where's Marley? …Okay, keep her up there with you as soon as she gets back."

Gibbs flipped his cell shut while Abby chewed on her bottom lip, setting up the video link.

"Okay, Gibbs, we've got Franks."

Gibbs turned back to the screen, "Mike?"

"Probie. We secure?"

"Yep, but I can't promise…"

"I know, he'll come in, if you want, but it's going to compromise his cover."

"Might not be up to me."

Meanwhile, Marley had exchanged back packs with Jarrod after the interview. She had excused herself from the bull pen while Tony was still talking with Ben and Ethan. Marley was determined to get to the lab; she just needed to check something out. She had pretty much decided she would hand her find over to Abby. She'd be able figure it all out, and Abby would know what she should do, which was probably to tell Gibbs.

Marley had made her way down the corridor from the restrooms then down the stairwell at the end of the hall. She was near the elevator when it suddenly pinged and the doors opened. She watched Ducky walk into the lab. She stayed close to the door frame and peeked around the corner. Ducky, Gibbs, and Abby stood in front of the large screen, where Mike Franks, the man who had helped her Uncle Nic, was talking to Gibbs.

"Ah, Mr Franks, I presume you have a silent witness for us?" asked Ducky.

"Yeah, Doctor Mallard, he's all yours, fifteen to twenty minutes, max. We can set up new co-ordinates tomorrow if you need more," said Mike as he moved from the frame and Nic Hanson took his place.

Ducky and Abbs looked at each other with both surprise and concern.

"Jethro you knew?" asked Ducky.

"Had a gut feeling, seen those chips before." Gibbs glanced at Abby. He could see the wheels turning in her sharp little mind and the worry in her eyes.

Marley's eyes went wide. She should have realized this team was too good, too quick. She flattened her back against the wall and pulled out the small rectangle box. She now had evidence in her hot little hands. Trying to suppress her nerves, she continued to tell herself that her uncle Nic had nothing to do with this. Patrick Devlin may have been a friend, but that didn't mean he knew anything about his death. Nic wouldn't have … She shook the thought from her head. Gibbs would get to the truth... After he throttled her for withholding evidence. Another image she quickly deferred. Marley stood there looking at the box, out of sight of the group in the lab, but where she could still hear everything her Uncle had to say.

"Agent Gibbs, sorry about all this."

Gibbs wasn't happy about any of this, but he trusted Mike Franks more than anyone in this world. He was good at reading people. If Mike Franks thought there had been an injustice done, he would not have protected those responsible, not forever anyway. Still, Gibbs remained neutral and got straight to the point. It was the best way to get the truth. "Want to tell me what went down all those years ago?" he asked.

"Yeah, no problem, I remember it. But, first I want you to know I had nothing to do with Pat's death. He was alive when I saw him last."

"Seems though, you were one of the last to see him alive."

"Yeah. We all were. We had all done boot camp together. Then when we applied for our different MOS, we started up this poker club, 8 Bells. We mainly played charity tournaments. Pat wasn't supposed to come to the practice session that night. We had a charity game coming up. Pat and I were partners, but Pat had his engagement party on the weekend, and I had mom in hospital, going through her second round of chemo. Dad and I, we took shifts," explained Nic.

"But you both turned up at the game that night. Why?"

"The guys always played and practice late. I called Pat and told him I needed to see him. He had dropped in late at the game. So I said I'd meet him there. I was glad really. I was scared to be left totally alone with him. I was afraid I might… The other guys would be in the next room in case I lost my cool, Gibbs, but I needed to find out the truth."

"What about?"

"Rosie."

"So it's true?" squealed Abby.

"Abbs," chastised Gibbs. He turned back to Nic on the screen. "You knew about Patrick? He rap…" Gibbs suddenly stopped and spun to look at the door. "Marley Rose get in here, NOW!"

Marley jumped when Gibbs bellowed, sending the contents of the box she was holding into the air.

FREEZE FRAME: Cut to mid shot of Marley standing in the door way, an empty wooden box in her hand and an array of poker chips raining down around her. Convert Black and White, CUT.

TBC.

Chapter 5: Conduct Unbecoming.

A.N. Just about all the clues are there, and the secrets near exposed, though I feel like I've missed something. You can probably guess, but The HOWS and the WHY are yet to come, oh and the WHO killed Patrick. Thanks to Harliquinn, for flushing this out with me. And a great big thanks for all those great Reviews and alerts.