Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

A/N: First off, thanks to everybody who reviewed, alerted, and favorited the last chapter! I really appreciate it and I'm glad that you are all enjoying this story so much. Each and every time my phone signaled that I had a new review, I was one happy duck :-)

Secondly, I'm saddened to have to say that I've had to disable anonymous reviews for the time being. As much as I love reading most of what those people who send me anonymous reviews have to say, unfortunately a few select "people" have decided to harass me using the anonymous review feature. While I love hearing critiques of my work (my pride is not so weak as to take offense to a well intentioned remark that can improve the reading experience of my stories), it is completely uncalled for to send me multiple anonymous reviews attacking me, attacking the idea behind my story, and attacking the people whose stories I read and enjoy. Hopefully, they will soon get the message that their childish games, while they may frustrate me when I'm having a bad day, are not going to discourage me from writing here on or anywhere else.

Chapter 4

A Much Need Lead

"Special Agent Gibbs?" A voice called out as Gibbs made his way to the door of the crowded coffee shop.

It was a bright and sunny Tuesday morning, and after a night of little sleep and horrific nightmares, Gibbs was in desperate need for coffee. He'd had two cups before he left the house, but he needed more. The line inside of his coffee shop made him groan, but he'd wait in line anyway. He needed his morning pick me up to keep him from going insane. With his mood so foul, he nearly snapped at the woman he called out to him before he could pull the glass door open.

"Can I help you?" He asked curtly, trying not to let his annoyance seep into his tone.

"I have some information for you," the woman told him, reaching into her purse and rummaging around for something.

Gibbs took the opportunity to look her over. She was a plain looking woman with hair the color of straw pulled back into a braid that descended past her bum. Her outfit consisted of a simple brown dress and plain black boots. The bag she carried over one shoulder was more of a tote and seemed to carry more than the contents of his desk. Just as he was becoming impatient with her, she withdrew a crunched up piece of paper and handed it to him. He didn't need to smooth it out to see that it was a missing persons notice containing the familiar face of Anthony DiNozzo.

"Do you know where he is?" Gibbs demanded, leading her over to a table across the patio, all thoughts of coffee gone.

"No," the woman admitted, lowering herself into a chair across from him. "But I may have some information that can help you find him."

Gibbs was eager for anything that she might have to say. This was the only person who had come forward with any kind of information in five weeks. If she had any information, any at all, he would accept it.

"I recognized his name," the woman said, reaching into her bag again. "Anthony DiNozzo. I wasn't sure at first if it was him, but once I saw that picture, I knew it for sure. He has his mother's eyes, god rest her soul."

Gibbs waited without prompting her, but reached for the scrap of paper she offered to him when she finally pulled her hand from the bag. It was an old photograph with a young kid and a woman who couldn't have been older than thirty.

"I've held onto that picture for these last thirty years. He was such a sweet boy, I didn't want to forget him. Everybody who knew him loved him. I think that's why he became The One," she sighed, tracing the child's face when Gibbs set the photo on the table top.

"The One?" Gibbs had no idea what this woman was talking about.

"Yes, The One," she nodded. "The One to change the world."

"And how's he supposed to do that?" Gibbs was ready to dismiss the woman as crazy. He didn't need crazy, he need concrete.

"On the full moon, he'll be sacrificed to Bolojok, the leader of the Alien planet Morgatok. His death will call Bolojok to Earth, and he will grant them the gift of eternal and everlasting life. With their gift, they will take control of world and lead us into the third world," the woman explained.

With a sigh, Gibbs pushed himself up from his chair. "Listen, lady. This man, my agent, is missing. Crackpot stories aren't going to help me find him."

"It's not a story!" She cried, grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving. "This is what they believe. This is why they've taken him."

"Who?" Gibbs asked.

"The Entity. They're a cult," she replied. "I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling you the truth. The Entity believes that Morgatok orbits around the universe, and upon certain dates it is within the distance required to perform the ritual to call Bolojok to instill them with their gifts. This year is one of those years, and the next isn't for another hundred. They've chosen Anthony as the one to sacrifice, and when the new moon arrives, and Morgatok is at its closest to Earth, they will hold a festival to call Bolojok. If Anthony is a good sacrifice, Bolojok will give The Entity the gifts they seek, but if he is not, they have lost their chance to ask until Morgatok comes back into orbit."

"That is crazy," Gibbs couldn't help but say in response.

"It is, but they've managed to convince a group of people that they're telling the truth. Anthony was able to escape, with the help of his mother, the last time Morgatok was in orbit, but they're much more desperate this time. They believe that Anthony is the only one who can successfully be sacrificed. They'll have taken him and spent all of this time preparing him for the festival. In a week, on the night of the new moon, they will sacrifice him," she explained.

"How do you know all of this?" Gibbs demanded.

She looked sheepish as she said, "I used to belong to The Entity. I allowed their fancy words to entrance me, but after I saw what they were capable of, after I saw that they were going to kill a sweet little boy, I knew it was wrong. They are nothing more than a group of crazy sociopaths. You must stop them before they get their chance to kill him."

Later, Gibbs found himself pondering what the woman had told him while he stood in line for his coffee. Cecilia Andrews, as she'd introduced herself before she left, had sounded insane as she told him about alien gods and sacrificial rituals, but he'd been an NCIS agent for too long to believe that there weren't crazy people in the world. If this cult actually existed, it was possible that what she'd told him was the truth.

Back in the bullpen, he was happy to see that Ziva wasn't there. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her after the meeting he'd just had. McGee was sitting at his desk, typing furiously on his computer, but looked up when Gibbs approached him.

"I need you to do me a favor," Gibbs said, rounding the desk and leaning down to speak in his agents ear.

"Of course Boss," McGee nodded.

"Cecelia Andrews. I want to know everything you can find on her," Gibbs told him. "And this is strictly between you and me."

NCIS

Waiting for the information from McGee was taking too long. He had never been a patient man. When McGee finally approached him on Wednesday morning when Ziva went out to use the ladies room, Gibbs breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Cecelia Andrews, 46 years old, born in Beaumont, Virginia," McGee told him, handing Gibbs a file. "She's been in and out of mental hospitals for the majority of her life. Her most recent stint was in Maryland State Psychiatric Facility. She has a number of anxiety and depression issues. She's attempted suicide twice. No children, never been married, and she's not allowed a driver's license. She currently lives in Beaumont with a brother."

Gibbs wasn't surprised.

"Did you find any connection between her and a cult called The Entity?" Gibbs wondered, not bothering to look through the file.

"Uh," McGee gulped, "yeah, Boss. When she was admitted into MSPF the first time, thirty years ago, she was going on about The Entity and some crazy alien stuff."

"I want you to find me everything you can about this cult. I want to know where they are, who they are, what they are, everything. Now," Gibbs said.

"What is this about, Gibbs?" McGee wondered, sitting back down at his desk, but looking to Gibbs instead of his computer.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs responded, and it was the only answer he needed to give before McGee was furiously typing away at his keyboard.

A/N: So I know the alien stuff was kind of crazy, but I figured that since the people are already crazy, it made sense to have beliefs that were just as insane- and I didn't want to use a mainstream religion (because I wasn't comfortable with the lacking amount of knowledge I have on them, and I don't want to offend anybody who does practice them). Everything about this cult is made up. It's all a figment of my imagination.

Let me know what you think of this! I'm eager to hear your thoughts!

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