CHAPTER 7 – PURPLE HAZE
In order to explain the House of Wax reference to the FBI agents, McGee found a comparative picture of Natalie Odell from two years ago. In the photo, taken two years ago, she appeared to be an attractive woman, with a few light wrinkles covered in heavy makeup. In the recent photo, she looked like a different woman; now Mrs. Odell could easily be mistaken for half her age, with unnaturally flawless, white skin. It was only when you inspected the image that you recognized that something about the woman's face wasn't quite right.
"She has the appearance of a doll," Reid observed, frowning. "Immobile and plastic."
Tony snarked, "I'll bet her girlfriends were pestering her for the name of her plastic surgeon."
Shaking his head, Rossi said, "To quote Mae West, 'You're never too old to be younger.'"
Gibbs snorted. "Yeah, well, how about, 'Be careful what you wish for.'?"
McGee, who was still searching for information stared at his screen and said, "Uh oh."
"What, McGee?" asked Gibbs, not liking the sound of this.
"Mrs. Odell was confined in a private hospital in late May with an undisclosed illness. It isn't public knowledge, but she died two days ago at the Abernathy Center in upstate New York."
Rossi raised his eyebrows. "And our scientists went missing in early June."
Reid suggested, "It's possible they were brought in to work on a treatment for Mrs. Odell, to stop any further progression of the cellular breakdown. But if this woman was using this toxic cream for any length of time, and her appearance suggests she was, the odds are stacked against them being able to reverse any organ damage."
"What I'd like to know," said Tony, "Is who supplied Mrs. Odell with the toxic skin cream?"
McGee informed Gibbs he needed some time to try to access Vitex's computer system, so Rossi suggested, "If you don't mind some help, may I introduce you to our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia?" Agent Rossi placed a call, and within minutes, McGee and Garcia were facing each other on their computer screens, happily talking about how to gain access to highly secure private files.
While McGee was occupied, Rossi suggested to Gibbs they get some lunch. "My treat," he said affably.
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It wasn't often Gibbs broke protocol with DiNozzo at work and called him Tony, or got personal with him in any way, but the two BAU agents had been called up to Director Vance's office for a brief chat. Gibbs took the free time to grab some coffee in the break room. DiNozzo joined him, and they decided to sit beside each other in an empty conference room. For a change they didn't discuss the ongoing case, and although Gibbs was happy enough sipping his coffee in silence, Tony, as always, preferred to talk.
"I was wondering… about me moving in," Tony started. "You sure you're okay about the piano? It'll take up half your living room."
Jethro pondered the logistics of moving a piano into his house. "Is the den big enough?" The room, situated behind the stairs, with access from the kitchen, was rarely used. There was an old desk in there as well as a single bed. He'd slept there a couple of times when an injury had prevented him from climbing the stairs. For some reason, Gibbs usually preferred sleeping on his couch – or, at least he used to, before he had Tony to keep him company in the master bedroom at night.
Tony seemed interested in that alternative. "What's the square footage?"
"Same width as the living room, just over twelve feet. About thirteen feet deep. You'd want to replace the carpet. It's got hardwood underneath, if you like that," Jethro suggested. "There's still room for the bed; just have to push it to one side."
Tony nodded, looking serious. "Some carpeting is good. Maybe an area rug instead, to mute the sound."
Jethro smiled at Tony and risked taking his hand. "I like to hear you play, so make sure I can hear you from down the basement." He loved the way Tony dipped his head as if bashful. A moment later they leaned towards each other and shared a gentle kiss. "So," Jethro said quietly, "You're ready for this big step?"
Tony nodded. "Yeah, I am. I feel good about it. And… we can shut the door if you have anyone over, so they don't see it and… you know… know I'm living with you."
Jethro frowned at Tony. "We don't have to go sneaking around, Tony."
"We don't?"
"I'm not suggesting we paint the house rainbow colors or anything, but I love you and I don't care who knows it, or what they think about it. I don't want you to feel bad if anyone says something negative, but… at the end of the day, we go home to the same house, the same bed, and we can't hide it forever."
Tony kissed him again, this time deeply, with lots of tongue, and when he broke away he was breathing hard and laughing at the same time. "God, I love you, Gibbs."
"Jethro," he corrected.
"But, we're at work, and you're Gibbs at work."
Gibbs said softly, "Call me whatever you want, so long as you love me back."
"I do. I love you. Hell, I'm in love with you," Tony declared. He was about to say more when Gibbs' phone buzzed.
"C'mon, Rossi says they're waiting out front. Let's get some lunch," Gibbs said. He drained his coffee cup and headed down and out the building with DiNozzo on his six, and if anyone noted the two men were practically grinning at each other, they were smart enough not to say anything.
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They decided to take the two BAU agents for sandwiches at a restaurant on the other side of the Navy Yard. The four men easily found a table as the lunch crowd had long since dispersed. They ordered, and while they waited for their food, Rossi got Gibbs to talk about the work he was doing on his boat, and there was some discussion about Rossi's latest novel, and then an Australian wine he'd recently discovered and recommended. As they ate, Gibbs listened with half an ear as Tony and Reid had a friendly quarrel over their preferred piano playing technique, but mostly he listened to Rossi talking about his team, and what it had been like to come out of retirement to work at the BAU.
They were walking back to the NCIS building, with Tony carrying a bag containing the lunch he'd promised to bring McGee, when Tony said, "Shoot, I forgot to get McGee a drink. I'll just stop at the Beans 'n' Cream." He jerked a thumb in the direction of his favorite coffee cart standing in the shade of a tree not far from the main entrance of their building. "That's a venti for you, right, Gibbs?"
The way Tony smiled, Gibbs knew he was teasing him. "Just get me a large, DiNozzo. And don't spend too long flirting with Rochelle."
"Never, Boss." Tony took the orders from the FBI agents and sauntered over to his favorite coffee cart.
Gibbs walked ahead with Rossi and Reid, and let them proceed into the NCIS lobby. It would take a couple of minutes for them to get through security, so he told them he'd catch up, waiting at the door for Tony. Normally Gibbs wouldn't have lingered, but there was something in the air that afternoon, a heavy feeling like a storm was brewing. He looked across the plaza, noting the crowds were pretty sparse, which was unusual for a Friday in July. Tony was finishing up his transaction with Rochelle, laughing at something she'd said. Considering it was a nice, sunny day, not too humid, it was surprising there were so few people about. But it was well after lunchtime, so most workers were probably be back in their offices by now. He kept an eye on Tony, coming towards him carrying a tray of coffees. Tony saw him watching and smiled brightly before turning to say hi to a woman as she passed. Gibbs recognized her as Dolores Bromstead, Tony's friend from HR.
All of a sudden, Tony stopped dead in his tracks and the tray of drinks tumbled out of his hand. The coffee cups hit the ground, tops snapping off, dark brown liquid spilling across the pavement. Tony stood stock-still, staring open-mouthed at something in the distance beyond Gibbs' line of sight.
Gibbs knew immediately that whatever Tony was gaping at was bad, really bad. Instinctively, he ran towards Tony, shouting his name, not knowing what was wrong, just that he had to get to him. He had only taken a couple of steps when there was a deafening roar and the ground shook. He almost lost his footing, but somehow kept going. A few more steps and he reached Tony, grabbed him, knowing only that there was some kind of danger – that he had to get him to safety.
It was as if they were moving in slow motion. Tony pulled, trying to get back to the coffee cart, to Rochelle, who was huddled close to her cart. Gibbs yelled at him, but Tony ignored him and broke free. Gibbs followed, and that's when he saw a huge plume of smoke rising from somewhere beyond the Navy Yard. There was another boom and a massive fireball erupted into the sky. A burst of strong wind, stinking of burning chemicals, hit him, and all he could do was stand there, watching in horror as an enormous mushroom cloud grew and grew until it obliterated the sun. The blue sky turned a threatening dark purple, and all over the plaza, people were screaming and scrambling for the shelter of the nearest building.
Rochelle was barely able to walk, and Tony was struggling to get her across the plaza. Gibbs made it to Tony's side just as a dense purple-black ash began to fall. Within a few seconds, day turned into night, and the building they were heading for could not be seen. Gibbs could barely make out Tony's form. "Tony!" he called out, though he knew he was only an arm's length away, supporting Rochelle on her other side.
"Can't breathe!" Tony shouted, his words followed by a choking cough.
They clung to each other, and to Rochelle, and fought against the acrid wind and dark ash to get safely inside NCIS. People were milling around in the lobby, many coated in the fallout dust, some of them appearing to be in shock.
Tony was bent over coughing, but as soon as he was able to get a breath, he pushed Rochelle into Gibbs' arms. "People… still out there…" He went to the glass doors and held one open. Frightened people poured in, stumbling and falling as they ran inside, many of them choking on the noxious ash.
Gibbs moved people away from the glass doors, and instructed everyone to head for the stairwell. "Go down, go down! Keep moving!" The NCIS guards worked with him to steer everyone out of the lobby and down to the lower levels where they would be out of harm's way. Most of the Navy yard buildings had shelters, and the NCIS headquarters could handle hundreds of people short-term. A man, his face coated in ash, stopped, apparently recognizing Rochelle. He said he'd take care of her and, with a supportive arm about her shoulders, helped her to the stairs.
As soon as most of the people had left the lobby, Gibbs sought out Tony. He was still at his post, holding the door open for any stragglers. He was coughing, and ash was blowing in, clinging to his clothing and any exposed skin. Alarmed, Gibbs said sharply, "You're letting it in, Tony, the fallout!" Gibbs touched Tony's arm to get his attention. "Hey, close it!" It took a couple of prompts but finally he closed the door. "Come with me," Gibbs said, but Tony shook him off.
"I have to watch," he insisted.
It grew ominously dark outside, the doors rattled as the wind picked up and bits of grit struck the glass. Sirens were going off in the distance, car horns blared and he heard what sounded like vehicles colliding. There was another deep boom and the whole building shook. For a minute, Gibbs was frozen, taken back to 9/11.
A loud crash of glass breaking came from somewhere above them. Huge shards of glass crashed to the sidewalk only a few feet from the entrance. That was it. Gibbs shouted, "C'mon, Tony, we need to go down! Now!"
Someone ran by, stumbling, a barely visible figure in a storm of dense dust. They disappeared almost as quickly as they had appeared.
Tony turned his head and their eyes met briefly. In that second, Gibbs knew what Tony was about to do, and, horrified, he reached for him, crying, "No!" But Tony slipped from his grasp and pushed through the door, and he just… vanished… into the terrible darkness.
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