A/N: I'm so very sorry that it's taken me so long to update this story! I hope that I'll be able to update more in the upcoming days. Til then, let me know what you think. 3 (And as always, NCIS is not mine.)

It was 7 AM sharp when Gibbs walked in to find the bullpen empty - for a few blissful seconds. Moments later, the entirety of the team spilled groggily off of the elevator, the two Metro detectives in tow.

"You're late," he said. No one had a response, except, of course, Luck, who looked as if she'd been run over by a train.

"We were following up on a lead," she said. "Except tattoo parlors don't tend to be open at 6:30 AM."

"Tattoo parlors?" Tony asked.

"Like the one the Sons use to mark their members," she said, looking up at their leader.

Gibbs' head snapped up. "The Sons?"

Both detectives nodded. Luck shook her head slightly at Gibbs.

"DiNozzo," he barked, still looking at her.

"Victim background, got it, boss." DiNozzo stood, clearing his throat, and gestured to the plasma. McGee complied and the victim's service picture appeared. "Private Santos Covas. Age twenty. Grew up around DC, started getting arrested for gang-related activities at age fourteen. Mostly petty theft, but then apparently he started getting the big jobs. Suspected to be involved in four break-ins and one armed robbery, then caught and convicted of armed robbery at age 17. The judge told him he could go to jail or join the Marine Corps when he turned 18, and it looks like he chose the Marines. Had a pretty clean service record, either that or he didn't get caught doing whatever it is he was - sorry boss, back to the point. His CO's say that he seemed to have been shaping up into a good soldier, stayed clean, hardly ever talked about home."

"Ziva."

"Stationed in DC for the next two months, but on his second day on duty, he did not show up for his post. He had never even been late before, so it set up a flag for his commanding officer."

Luck and Grey traded looks, perplexed.

"'Sent up a red flag,'" McGee whispered. "Roll with it."

They did.

"McGee," Gibbs interrupted.

"Records," McGee said, "Looks like Private Covas made a full turn around. He was a 'half hour hero' - a student mentor, for younger kids, when he was on leave for a month in New York, and he was a model Marine. CO said he was the kind of kid who'd been a follower because he didn't know what else to be."

"Any more significant records?"

"Pulling up Covas' phone records right now, boss." McGee's computer chirped and he looked slightly nervous as everyone in the bullpen stared at him. "In the few weeks before he got back to DC, he was getting a lot of calls from a law firm. Draper and Travis."

Tony and Ziva lunged simultaneously for their phones, but were stopped by McGee's slightly self-satisfied smile.

"I looked them up and called them last night. Private Covas was involved in a case they were pursuing, but they wouldn't tell me any more without a warrant."

Gibbs looked at him expectantly.

"Which I asked for via e-mail on the way here," McGee finished, somewhat lamely.

There was no 'Good work,' but there were no threats of badge revocation.

Gibbs returned his attention to Luck, who waved a sheet of paper. Her partner, on the other hand, looked shocked to be called upon. "Covas was a member of the Sons. I'm willing to bet they wanted him to testify against one of his former buddies. I have a friend in the courts, I'll leave it at that." Grey coughed. "Cinderel-Grey's friend."

Grey grabbed the sheet of paper and held it open. It was a sketch of the tattoo found on Private Covas' ankle. "This is the Sons' mark. Your devotion to the gang is shown by how grandly you display it. Get it tattooed all over your body, you're a devotee. Get a mark like Covas', and you're just dabbling, the whole gang is suspicious you might be a narc." The NCIS team traded knowing looks. The drive to please Gibbs seemed to be infectious.

"So, Covas was testifying against a street gang that already mistrusted him, and was murdered," Ziva said. "This seems to me to be enough motive. We simply do not know who to bring in."

"No one knows much about the Sons' leadership," Grey said, leaning against the cubicle beside her desk. "They're intensely... private, I guess you could say. There are rumors that there is no leader any more, but most people -"

"The Sons' leader is a man who calls himself Torro," Gibbs said. "But his real name is Elias Martinez." He took a long swallow of coffee as Grey gaped at him.

"You have this information, and you never told anyone?" he asked harshly.

"No one ever asked me," Gibbs said, but his eyes slid over to Luck. She was impassive. "Ziva, DiNozzo," he ordered, "Go to the lawyers and-"

"Find what we can without a warrant, boss, on it," Tony said. Ziva was already halfway to the elevator, with Tony on her heels.

"McGee, get with Abby on that damn unprocessed evidence."

"On it, boss."

"Grey, Barnes, you're with me."

Neither one of them thought to argue.