So, as a head's up, I am going out of town this Wednesday, so I probably won't get the next chapter out until I get home. Fortunately, that's Thursday. But I really don't have anything else to ramble about. I just spent the last three days redoing my brother's new room (he just got himself an apartment, so I was making it look less crappy) so as I result, I'm flipping exhausted that I really just want to go to bed. But I will at least post this before I do.

6

It was late in the afternoon before they made it back to the office. They put a BOLO out on DiNozzo, but so far no hits. Jethro checked every ten minutes and he knew that Kate and McGee checked in between that. He knew it was a bad idea. They still had a case to investigate and a killer to catch. And if the two crimes were intertwined, then they couldn't waste any time worrying.

After another minute, Jethro stood up. "Kate!" he barked.

She grabbed a file off her desk and moved to stand in front of his.

"Petty Officer Alvin Jones, age thirty-five, no family to speak of. I spoke to a few of the men in his unit, they all said that Jones was a loner, didn't talk to anybody and absolutely refused to talk about his childhood. Petty Officer Greg Peck," she halted for a moment, her eyes immediately went to DiNozzo's desk.

For the first time in a long time, Jethro decided to throw her a bone. "Gave you a speech about why you shouldn't kill a Mockingbird?"

Her eyes met his again with a small but warm smile. "No. He claimed that Jones attacked him once when he asked about his tattoo."

The team leader idly wondered what DiNozzo would have said if he was asked about it.

He nodded and turned his attention to his other agent. "McGee!"

The young man jumped before he got to his feet. "I've looked through Petty Officer Jones' financials, so far nothing looks out of the ordinary. Also, Boss," he moved closer till he was standing next to Kate. "I've been calling around, trying to see what the significance of the tattoo is."

Jethro shook his head. "Why?" He wasn't angry, he just had to know everything that McGee knew. And if he knew about Tony's tat for the same reason that he did.

McGee stuttered for another minutes before he finally answered. "Abby told me Tony has the same one."

Kate scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. "I didn't know that Tony had a tattoo."

McGee turned to her with a shrug. "He probably didn't like talking about it anymore than Petty Officer Jones did." He turned back to his boss, even though it was obvious to both men that Kate wanted to argue about it more. "Which begs the question, why? I've called everyone I could think of, but this mark isn't on anybody's radar."

Kate shifted her feet. "Well, it can't be a coincidence that both Jones and Tony have the same tattoo. One winds up dead, and the other…" She trailed off, obviously still not comfortable with that particular thought.

Jethro turned his attention back to her. He needed her to focus completely on the case. "You said you only spoke to a few of Jones' unit."

Kate shook her head a bit to clear it—probably still thinking about DiNozzo—and then nodded. "Right. A few I'm still waiting for a call back from, and one hung up on me." She handed him the file. "Petty Officer Second Class Cooper Harris. Age thirty-seven. Used to be a Navy SEAL but transferred to teaching after he blew out his knee during basic training."

"He was never in combat?"

Kate shook her head again. "Not once."

That was confusing. A man had to be in prime physical shape to be a SEAL. They had to be the best at just about everything. So how did a doctor miss that he had a bad knee?

"There's more," Kate started to pull him out of his thoughts. "Petty Officer Harris continually requested job changes throughout his short career. He transferred to Norfolk less than a month ago. According to Petty Officer Peck, Jones met with a reporter two days before Harris requested the transfer. I haven't been able to find the reporter yet."

Jethro smirked for the first time since yesterday morning. "Give it to McGee." He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and grabbed his gun and badge. "You're with me."

He started walking for the elevator as he clipped his gun into place on his belt. Kate stopped by her own desk to grab her things before she followed. "Where are we going, Gibbs?"

"Norfolk. I wanna talk to Petty Officer Harris."

The lift dinged right before the doors slid open. The two of them climbed on in silence. Neither said a word as they made the agonizingly slow descent to the car garage.

Wait Before thou enter my returnless gate,
Whose folding-doors are mirrors

Tony grudgingly made his way through the hallway. After they were finally inside the building, the thugs put him down. When he tried to break free, Francis pulled his gun back out and smacked him in the side of his head. After that, he was too woozy to fight back anymore.

The two unarmed thugs led the way in front of him while Francis took the rear, his gun pressed against the back of Tony's head to prevent any more escape attempts. He kept trying to think of ways to get out, but his head was pounding, blood was dripping in his eyes and he couldn't think straight. He knew an escape was futile. If he somehow managed to take out the guy with the gun, there were still two heavily muscled thugs and a shock collar in his way.

His mind kept going back to his time in the sewer with Gunnery Sergeant Atlas when his ex-girlfriend kidnapped them. He wouldn't let the Gunny give up, even though everything looked hopeless. Tony couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. Back then he fought like hell to get out of there, and now he was just giving up, just like he was a little boy again.

The two in front finally stopped. To their left was a heavy cherry wood door with intricate designs carved into the wood and embroidered with real gold. It was flashy and screamed unlimited funding. All Tony could think was business is booming.

The blonde brute pushed a button and the door slid open. Tony wanted to make some sort of pop culture reference, but he couldn't think of a single one. He blamed the possible concussion.

"Get in," said the blonde in a deep, but surprisingly nasally voice.

Tony smirked. "No thanks, I'm good here." That earned him another whack to the head with the pistol, sending him to the ground.

His vision blackened for the third time and his head throbbed even worse. The pain was too unbearable, and he nearly puked up his entire empty stomach. The only good thing was that he didn't pass out. He didn't want to think about what they would have done to him then.

He felt rather than saw two of the thugs lift his arms and drag him towards the room before dropping him face first onto the cold concrete floor.

He didn't move until he was sure that the three men were gone. When he heard the door swish closed he finally managed to pull himself up to look around.

Where the hallway was rich and luxurious, his room was cold and sparse. It felt like a prison cell. There were only two things worth mentioning. There was a bed that could really only be considered a cot, and a small open bathroom. That was the only luxury in the entire room. The vanity had an array of personal care products. Expensive hair care, face wash, blemish remover. Even an old fashioned straight razor and shaving cream.

Tony wished he could say that he was surprised. Except that he wasn't. They wanted him to look his best and you can't look your best with cheap, half-assed products.

He looked back towards the door and almost laughed. The other side was real, gold embroidered wood. On this side was bolted metal. Impossible to break through unless they tried to imprison Superman. Of course, knowing Amalea, she'd layer the door with Kryptonite if that were the case.

There were no windows, no way to escape. He was stuck here.

there descry Thy coming self

Norfolk Navy Base was the largest Naval Station in the world, able to house dozens of ships and aircraft at any given time. Norfolk was basically its own little town inside of a town, with hundreds of people living on the base. Petty Officer Alvin Jones was one of them, working as an aircraft mechanic. He had specifically requested a shore job after his last tour on a carrier. One of the other sailors committed suicide by diving off the stern of the ship. Jones had tried to talk him out of it.

The two agents were led by a seaman who looked barely old enough to shave, which was probably why he was given the grunt task of playing escort. Jethro kept looking for a tattoo like DiNozzo's and Jones', but the seaman's shirt collar was too tight around his neck.

The boy eventually stopped them at a glass door conveniently labeled 'gymnasium,' and stood at ease.

"It's their downtime, sir," he said by way of explanation.

Jethro just nodded. Normally he would have growled at being called 'sir,' but for once he decided to let it go. He had more important things to worry about than a title.

Kate led the way, seeing that she was holding the service photos of Jones' unit. She led them to a small group of men barely using the equipment they were hogging. Instead, they looked like a group of men who just lost a teammate.

"Petty Officer Peck?" Kate called out to the men.

A young man, probably around twenty-five, with brown hair and grey eyes, stepped forward. "Yes?" he asked.

The two agents pulled out their badges as Kate spoke. "I'm Special Agent Todd, NCIS, we spoke on the phone."

Peck nodded. "Right, was there something else you needed?"

"We just have a few follow up questions."

Jethro continued to listen with one ear as he scanned the room. He had seen Petty Officer Harris' service file, so he knew what he looked like. Now he just hoped the man decided to go to the gym today.

Harris probably didn't think that he was a suspect. If he was confident about that, he wouldn't try and hide, that would just put suspicion on him. No, he had to act as if nothing changed. As if he hadn't just shot a colleague and dumped his body in one of the most viewed places in the city without any witnesses. A guy like that was definitely cocky enough to work out after commiting murder.

That was something that had been bugging the agent. How did nobody see Harris dump the body? The reflecting pool wasn't exactly a nice, quiet, out of the way place. It was one of D.C.'s biggest tourist attractions. Yet nobody saw anything. And nobody tried to stop it. How?

Kate continued to ask the men about Jones. So far, they didn't tell her anything new. Loner, did his work but didn't really socialize. Seamen Ramirez, however, did say that he looked haunted about something all the time, although he didn't know what.

Everything that was said made Jethro's stomach roll around. He didn't like it. These men worked with Jones for years, but they barely knew anything about him. Sure, they were upset that he was dead, but in a few weeks, hell, in a few days, they would be completely over it and barely even think about Alvin Jones anymore. All of it made Jethro think about DiNozzo. How much did he really know about his Senior Field Agent? Sure, the younger man told him a few things over the years about his past, but, looking back on it, a lot of it seemed that DiNozzo was pulling a story out of his hat. When he told Jethro his mother died when he was a small boy, it lacked any sort of hurt that one would associate with losing a parent at such a young age. And when Jethro asked how old he was, it was almost as if he had to think of his answer.

He stopped thinking and listening at that point. He had found Harris.

The man had his back to him, but the agent still knew this was his guy. His workout was strenuous, his sweat making his muscle tee hang loosely on his back, which revealed a calligraphic X at the base of his spine.

He motioned to Kate to follow his lead. Then together, the two of them moved to confront their suspect.

"Petty Officer Harris?" he called out when they were a few feet away.

The man turned, revealing an attractive face with bright blue eyes, full lips and flawless skin. Harris spent a great deal of time grooming himself.

But when he saw two people who screamed 'cop' with every step they took, he panicked. He jumped off the machine and grabbed the first thing he could reach—a ten pound weight—and threw it at them.

Jethro screamed, "Duck!" as he dove out of the way, seconds before the weight landed at his feet. Harris took off running and the agent wasted no time before he chased after him.

Kate stayed only a step behind him, but Jethro couldn't worry about where she was headed. He kept his eyes trained on Harris, which way he twisted around. He was headed for the door, that much was certain. And he wouldn't hesitate to take down whoever got in his way. The man was a trained Navy SEAL. True, he never saw combat, but he had been trained to kill.

Most of the sailors gave Harris a wide berth, probably too stunned at what was happening to respond. It just fueled Jethro's anger. He screamed out, "Make a hole!" as he circled around to Harris' left.

Harris was a foot from the door when another sailor, big and bulky, punched him in the face, sending him to the ground.

Jethro knew immediately that Harris wasn't unconscious, and he still probably had a little fight left in him. The agent wasn't a fool. He was a trained Marine, but he was also older, and in public. There were too many variables here to risk a brawl.

When he saw the SEAL try to rise, he jammed his foot into Harris' chest and pulled his Sig Sauer out. He kept it trained between Harris' eyes, a grin on his face.

Kate moved next to him, her gun at the ready as well. Although it almost looked like she was aiming at her boss' foot. That was a bit concerning, but he wasn't going to yell at her. It wouldn't have taken any fear away from Harris.

The SEAL's eyes darted between the two of them as if contemplating his chances of breaking free and escaping.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Jethro said with a smirk. He looked deep in the Petty Officer's eyes to prove his point. He would shoot. He didn't want to, he was hoping this bastard could help him find his agent, but if he tried something, Jethro would have no problem putting a bullet in his brain.

Finally, after about a minute of staring and glaring, the SEAL sighed heavily and brought his hands up in surrender.

Kate hurled him to his feet while Jethro kept his eye on the man to make sure he didn't try anything. "Thanks, sailor," he said to the man who knocked Harris out in the first place.

The sailor just nodded, continuing to glare at Harris with an intensity that surprised the lead agent. He made a mental note to revisit it later, when Harris was booked and he had DiNozzo back. In the meantime, he still had a killer to process.

Harris grinned at him, like he knew a secret that the agents weren't privy to. "I'll be out by dinner time."

"Don't be so sure about that." Jethro finally put his gun away when his suspect was handcuffed and started to make his way out of the gymnasium. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to my agent," he whispered right next to Harris' ear.

But Harris just turned his head, that grin still spread across his lips. "Your agent," he started, 'or your lover?"

Jethro suppressed a growl as they walked out of the building.

So I tried toning down using their first names, as requested, and I hope that it helped. Thank you!

Bob