Gibbs sat across from Tony, slowly taking a pull from his beer. The younger man had managed a little over half the pizza himself.

They were quietly drinking at the kitchen table, in amicable silence, as Tony waited patiently for him to speak.

There was a soft "clink", as Gibbs put the beer bottle on the table, and drew a heavy breath.

"It was a long time ago when I saw those symbols, and...my head got scrambled once or twice since..."

"But you did recognize them…the symbols on the body," Tony said slowly, more as a statement then a question.

Gibbs nodded, and looked up at him, "Yeah. It was when I was deployed during Operation Desert Storm..."

Tony tried to mask the sharp inhale as he realized now how complex this really was. His eyes gazed at the older man with compassion, but Gibbs was not one to accept sympathy easily, and he looked away.

Gibbs cleared his throat and continued talking while folding his hands on his kitchen table, and only gazed up occasionally at the younger Agent. He told Tony about being transferred to Malloy's unit, and meeting the Captain himself and Ted Handel, and about the handful of men who seemed secretively protective of each other and their tattoos. And then about the two deaths, that had strangely occurred in a short time span within the unit. He even told Tony of the young girl he'd saved from "Rambo" Roy.

He paused for a little while, seeing Tony's expression drifting towards intense reflection.

"So...the symbols on Colletti's body...are the same? The same as the guys in your unit had in their tattoos?" Tony asked softly while frowning and rubbing the side of his face absently.

"Yes."

"You're sure, Boss? Cos'…that's one Hell of a coincidence."

"Yep."

Tony frowned, and fiddled with his now empty beer bottle. "Colletti being a Scout Sniper, murdered that way...and turning up in your back yard...someone knew you'd be on the case, Boss. " Tony paused for a moment and locked his eyes in Gibbs'. "This could be the beginning of something we don't like. You have to remember everything about these guys, Gibbs."

Gibbs' eyes widened suddenly, glaring at Tony, and he slammed the table with one hand,"Don't you think I know that already DiNozzo?"

Tony didn't flinch, but the muscles in his jaw pulsed for a moment. He broke off from Gibbs' angry blue eyes, and got up from the table, and slowly began to pace. He knew this was taxing for Gibbs...in so many ways. "Shannon and Kelly," he began cautiously, not looking at Gibbs, "They were…still alive at that time, which would mean that this all happened...right before you...lost them."

He chanced a glance up, but Gibbs was just looking at the table, one hand still on it clenched in a fist.

Then Gibbs nodded once.

"And you got injured out there in the line of duty...right before you got home. And the memories aren't quite clear...and they hurt." Tony waited a moment to gauge the older man's reaction.

Gibbs suddenly sighed tiredly, and rubbed his face quickly with both hands. With a deep heaviness he said, "There a point you're makin' here, Tony?"

Tony took a breath and sat down again across form Gibbs. He looked at him steadily in the eye. "I want you to tell me everything else you remember until you got sent back stateside."

Gibbs looked up and around the room for a moment, and then nodded. He fixed his eyes on Tony's and said softly, "Okay."


(Flashback, Outside Khafji, desert region, Saudi Arabia near Kuwait border, Febuary 24, 1991)

Smoke was billowing from the Iraqi trucks and military transports as they neared.

Gibbs heard the Cap on his com, "Gibbs, report."

"Our fly-boys hit their marks, sir. None appear to have survived." Gibbs watched as some of his unit members approached slowly, and carefully stepped around the debris, which included vehicle parts, and charred bodies. The men warily took in the remains of their enemy, soldiers like themselves. Some had died in place in their vehicles, and some on the ground. Gibbs had about half the unit with him. Their boots almost made no sound as they walked upon the black sand...turned dark by either blood leaking from the bodies or the unfathomable heat of the detonated missles.

"Keep your eyes open,"Malloy said, "and check every vehicle. Once you are completely in the clear, tell everyone to dig in forty clicks due east. We're gonna' need to move out in a few hours when it's dark. We anticipate meeting some of the enemy forces and our troops need us to be in position to tell them who's who. There've been to many friendly fire for anyone's liking. Everyone needs to look sharp. "

Gibbs wondered to himself, not for the first time, if Malloy knew what had happened within his own unit. "Affirmative, sir. We will dig in forty clicks due east."

Malloy finished with, "Rambo and Deluca will meet you at the designated area with the other men before we move out."

"Affirmative, Sir, " Gibbs repeated into the com.

From behind one of the burning trucks, Gibbs heard, "Why the fuck would Malloy let him be in charge anyway? G-2's still the goddamned newbie."

It was MacLean.

Michael MacLean, also called "Mac", was one of the "Satanic Six". So was Esteban "Poppy" Gonzalez. Of the nine pairs of Sniper Scouts in the unit, only 3 pairs wore the special tattoos and seemed to generally hate everyone else. He was relieved that the other four, "Rambo" Roy Roth, Ernie DeLuca, Christian Adams, and Stanley Vine, were all out in another location with the rest.

"Quit your fuckin' whining Mac. There are only so many Gunneys in our outfit. Malloy trusts G-2. And that's good n'uff for me," Teddy's rich baritone chided.

"Yeah, well, you're a jerk off too, Teddybear," came the almost inaudible response.

Before it could get out of hand, Gibbs spoke into the com. " MacLean, report."

A more professional sound now came out of the Marines mouth, "Can't see anything so far but remains and blown up vehicles, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs."

"Poppy?" Gibbs asked next, walking slowly behind them all and smelling burnt flesh.

"Clear. We smoked these fuckers."

"Rivera?" he asked, seeing the movement of some of the men in and out of the smoke moving before him in the wind.

"Clear."

"Schmidt?"

"Clear, G-2."

"Hicks."

"Yeah, clear G-2."

"Barnyard?" Dave "Barnyard" Banyon was from rural Tennessee, and knew more about livestock than anyone wanted to. It made Gibbs smile. He was a simple but good kid.

"Yup. Clear Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs Sir."

"Handel?"

"Right here," Gibbs heard the voice behind him and grinned. He muted the com and turned to look up at his giant friend. "You're the only one who can do that, and it makes no goddamned sense to me, since you're the Bigfoot around here."

"Nah," Teddy said smiling back and lowering his rifle. "You're just distracted by all this power Malloy gave you to run us around like assholes."

Gibbs chuckled, "Well, you better get on ahead of me before I show you what abuse of power looks like."

"Yes sir, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs!" Teddy saluted him and smiled as he walked past, adding an "Ooo-rah."

Gibbs paused in the telling, taking a sip from the next bottle of beer Tony had given him in the process.

"So there were six, plus the Captain, Malloy who were into this…Satan thing," Tony said as a quick recap.

"Yeah, but…I dunno' if Malloy really knew how bad these guys were. I mean, if you look into, even a lot of Satanists don't do the shit they did. Most of em' will…I dunno kill a chicken…or throw a curse at someone…something like that, I think. It's the crazy people, like usual, the extremists, who don't do anything but make excuses for acting like animals…"

Tony saw the glaze coming over Gibbs' eyes, and knew this was draining him.

"So…this was coming up on the big push, before the cease-fire, when this all went down," Tony urged him on.

Gibbs nodded, and looked up, "Yeah…and things just got thicker."

(Night of Febuary 24)

Rambo snarled, "What do you fucking know, Barnyard? I don't even think you got any hair on your balls yet boy."

The younger blonde-haired Scout from Tennessee held his head up proudly. He leveled a green-eyed gaze at the scruffy looking and older Marine."You got that wrong, Roy. My momma raised me right. I kill cos' I'm doin' a job for my country. Cos' I have to. I don't like it, and I ain't God so I ain't judgin' those Iraqi men. We's on two sides of a conflict. They think they's right too. Lucky for us they ain't got the trainin' we did."

Maclean watched with glittering beady dark eyes as the two argued.

"So if you weren't enlisted…what…you'd just "turn the other cheek"? That what you'd do, Barnyard?" Roy took several steps forward, getting dangerously close to the younger man.

"That what a good Christian'd do," the younger man said softly, not backing down.

"Yeah?" Roy growled. "Well…some of us ain't Christian. We don't need to turn the other cheek."

There was sudden silence, as the two men stared each other down, in the hot desert dusk.

Just then Barnyard's partner, Jimmy Rivera's voice could be heard, as calm and cool as a still lake.

"You got a problem with my boy, Rambo, you got a problem with me. And just because I don't usually pay any mind to your…eccentricities, doesn't mean I won't stick my rifle up your ass and blow your fucking head off."

Roy didn't move, but scowled when he heard the words.

Mac put a hand on his rifle, on the ground beside him, tense and ready to move.

They heard two sets of footsteps on gravel approaching and all seemed to warily stand down.

"There a problem here?" Gibbs asked plainly, Handel behind him.

Handel gripped his rifle, looking at MacLean. Their eyes locked for a moment before turning back to the two Marines facing off before them.

"No," Roy said, stepping back from Dave Banyon, and still staring at him. And is a softer voice, said, "This ain't over, boy."

"Hey!" Gibbs said angrily, stepping towards Roy as the rest stepped back. "I just asked you if you had a problem, Marine !"

"Yeah, G2," Roy said maliciously, "And what if I did? You gonna' do somethin' about it? OH, wait, you got your bodyguard with you, so I guess that makes you pretty brave, right?"

"Knock it off Roy," MacLean said with subtle urgency. "Malloy will have our asses."

Before Gibbs could respond to Roy's comment, Roy quickly said, "You're right. You're right. I'm sorry, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs. Must be all the pressure…out here."

The tone wasn't really apologetic.

Gibbs still walked over to Roy, and looked him in the eye. "Mind yourself, Rambo. This unit has had enough losses. I wouldn't want to have to face a review board later because things kept going fubar for the men under Malloy's command. A dishonorable means when you go back stateside, no one will hire you."

The threat was now clear. Teddy shifted on his feet uncomfortably, looking down at the ground and clenching his jaw

Now both MacLean and Roy were gazing at Gibbs with something like pure hatred.

"I understand," Roy smiled maliciously at Gibbs. "You won't have one more spot o' trouble with me, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs. Of that, I promise."

Gibbs stared at the man another moment, before turning and walking away, back towards the makeshift camp 30 feet way.

It was quiet behind him, as Teddy suddenly appeared back at his side, falling into step.

"I dunno' G2. Ya' might'a screwed the friggin pooch theah," Teddy said tightly, with obvious concern.

"Yeah. Maybe," Gibbs said, and remained silent as they fell back in to the group where Captain Malloy was getting ready to read the unit in to the mission on deck.


"That couldn't have been good," Tony said with an attempt at light sarcasm.

"No," Gibbs said thickly."We were close to winning the war," he said softly, with a slightly haunted look in his eyes. He shook his head, with a small bitter smile, looking again at Tony. "So close...but within that next twenty-four hours, things went to shit. And...true to his word, Roy didn't cause me any trouble."

"No," Tony said softly, and almost with fear,"he had one of the others screw with you."

"Yeah. At least...I'm petty sure..."Gibbs pulled a deep breath again, and swallowed, gripping his beer bottle.

Tony licked his lips. "What happened?"

Gibbs sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment. Without opening them, his brows drew together slightly, in concentration. "We saw a lot of action after that, during the big push to drive the Iraqi's back out of Kuwait. We got into the middle of a mess of tanks, and ground troops clashing. Did our best to scope out who was who and report with nightvision, and picked off some of the enemy. MacLean took one to the shoulder. Teddy and I were the first ones to get to him, and got a good look at the tatt then. It was the same as Malloys. The same symbols we saw this morning..." Gibbs frowned a little deeper, and Tony could see his breathing pick up. "We...got him to safety and they medevac'd him out. I went back in with Teddy...and then..." he paused to take a deep breath, opening his eyes and looking Tony in the eyes, "I was a victim of "friendly fire."