Act Six
When Abby arrived at the Federal Building the next morning, she was feeling much better than she had been in the entire time she had been in L.A. Of course, a lot of that probably had to do with Joel's arrival. She had actually slept for more than a few hours, his strong arms wrapped around her, protecting her. A sly grin slipped across her face as she remembered hers and Joel's early morning activities. Activities that, hopefully, would be continued that evening.
Her good mood lasted until she stepped off the elevator with her team and saw what had been going on in their absence. Her glance moved back and forth between Don's team stripping out of their vests and holsters to two perps being escorted down the hall to the interrogation rooms. Just a glimpse of one of the perps and she could just feel her blood pressure rise.
She rounded on Don. "WTF? You said to trust you about the perps." She jerked a thumb in the direction of the interrogation rooms. "I did, and you couldn't be bothered to call and tell me you had them?"
"You wanted to be wakened at 0530 with a 'maybe'?" Eppes asked, even as Granger and Sinclair muttered under their breath, 'I sure as hell didn't.'
"I might have. But since they're here, it obviously was more than a maybe."
"Actually," Megan spoke up, earning her the collective glares from no less than three - then four, once Eppes had slipped his vest off - pissed off Agents. "Until the LAPD Gang Unit, along with LAPD SWAT took the door with a no-knock warrant, we weren't even 70% certain that the perps were where they were supposed to be." She shrugged out of her own vest, nodding a thanks to David, who caught it.
Abby scowled but couldn't think of anything else to say. What could she say? Doug threw a look at her before turning and striding purposefully toward the interrogation rooms. "Damn it, Doug come back here." Abby snapped at him. "Doug? Miller!" She headed after him, hoping to cut him off before he got too far.
Don sighed and motioned for his team to help out Abby. He nailed George Staunton with a glare as he moved to assist Stroud with Miller.
Abby reached Doug first, stepping into his path, with Colby, David and Megan, coming up behind him. Abby could see them just behind Doug but hoped they wouldn't have to do anything. "Doug, you can't do this. You know you can't do this."
Behind the group, unnoticed, the elevator arrived on the floor with a soft 'ding.'
"Abby..." Doug growled. "You're just as pissed as I am."
"Yeah, I am, but I'm not willing to get the whole case tossed because I lost my temper. Stop and think for a moment! Think as an agent. NOT a linebacker."
Doug's fists clenched and clenched, a scowl settled onto his normally handsome face. "Abby, you're asking too much..."
"Asking too much? You wanna tell Danny why the case is going to get tossed? Is that what you want? Huh, Miller, is that it? You don't care what might happen latter as long you get to beat the shit out of someone now?!" Abby demanded of him.
"Abby..." He growled. Down the hall, the door to one of the interrogation rooms opened and closed. It was opened just long enough for everyone to hear the perp bellowing.
"I'm gonna SUE this WHOLE GODDAMN building! False arrest!"
"Doug..." Abby pleaded with him. "Don't...Do...This." She shook her head with each word. "Think...Please..."
Doug looked at his boss and calmly stepped around her.
"Miller! Stand DOWN!" The voice ripped through the crowd and it was one that wasn't well known, to most of the people there. The effect on Doug was electric. His head snapped up and around, looking for the source of the voice.
Before he could locate the source, she was right up against him, invading his space. "You want to tango with someone, I'm your gal, Agent Miller. Suspects are off limits."
Doug looked down at the fierce, dark haired woman who was inches from his nose. "Who the hell are you?"
"Your worst nightmare if you don't back down in this house."
Doug looked at the woman, clearly weighing his options but then, like flipping a switch, his anger dissipated and vanished as quickly as it came. His hands relaxed and the stiffness went out of his shoulders.
"Good choice there, Maddog Miller."
He frowned. "You saw me play pro ball?"
"I was at the game that ended your career." She stuck out a hand in greeting. "Yelena Dunbar, NCIS."
He looked at her again, and then held out his hand. "You're Granger's girlfriend."
"Guilty." She peered past him to look towards the interrogation room, and then glanced over at Eppes. "Those the ones you been hunting, Don? The ones on the videos which pretty much ruined Colby's eyesight?"
Don nodded. "That's right, 'Lena. You've got good timing, you know that?"
"So I've been told." She smiled, then explained. "Actually, I came by to make arrangements to 'borrow' the FBI's gun range for a requal later today. Stopped up here on a hunch, and to see the man I haven't seen enough of recently."
All eyes turned and focused on Colby, who blushed a, truly, lovely shade of red.
"You get the arrangements made?" Don asked. "If not, I'll be happy to help you get them."
She shook her head. "I've gotten the range master's okay, but apparently the other person I have to get to sign off on the request isn't due in until after lunch. ADA Wright?" Yelena walked over to Colby's desk, spotted the vests laying on a spare desktop, and then turned around to look at him. "You're okay, right? No bruises?"
Colby nodded. "No bruises. We're all good."
"Good." Her nose wrinkled. "Okay, who's forgotten how to clean their ballistic vest?"
Megan snorted. "Think about it, 'Lena."
"Right." She picked up Colby's vest, and then held her hand out to Reeves. "Might as well do something productive. Since I have time to kill."
Surprised, Megan handed her vest to Yelena. "Thanks, I was not looking forward to cleaning it myself."
"Not a problem, Megan." She looked around for a spare body and her blue-gray hazel gaze landed on one person in particular. "Staunton, right?"
George nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"You got somewhere you have to be between now and lunch?"
George looked at Abby, who shook her head, then at Don, who also shook his head. "No."
"Good. Grab the other vests. You're about to get a crash lesson in proper care of a ballistic vest." She walked over to Granger, gave him a peck on the cheek, and a smile. "I'll call you about lunch later, love."
He nodded. "Don't worry." Colby reassured the younger man. "She doesn't bite. Not really."
"Wrong answer, Granger. I do bite. I'm just very selective and, frankly, one FBI agent in a lifetime is more than enough." Yelena said.
"Go easy on him Dunbar, Stroud would like to go back to D.C. with all the people she came out with."
Yelena looked over at Don with a look of disdain. "Spoil sport. Come on, George. I believe Granger here has what we need back at his place. Right, Colby?" Her smile was brilliant as she moved Megan's vest into a more secure location, stacked on top of Colby's in her arms, and left the other two vests for the rookie agent from D.C. to handle. "Hurry up, Staunton, I'm not waiting all day."
Abby watched her agent disappear with the NCIS agent. "Am I going to get him back in one piece?"
Colby shrugged. "Probably."
"Colby!" Megan looked at Abby and nodded. "Dunbar's more bark than bite . . . and she's got a lot of experience to base her training on. If George asks the right questions, she'll give him some good advice."
Abby grinned. "Good, I keep trying to get George to see something beyond the four walls of the Art Crime office."
"Don't be surprised if she drags him off to the gun range later." David quipped from his desk, where he was putting away his sidearm.
She snorted and looked over at Doug, now slumped against the closest wall. She came over to him quietly questioned him. "What the hell, Miller?"
Doug let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Abby." His face flushed to a noticeable shade of red. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. You should put me on report."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're right, I should. You wanna tell me what set you off or do I just guess?"
"Guess." His face got just a tad bit redder.
She almost smiled and laid a hand on his arm. "While I'm sure Danny knows you would gladly rip someone's head off for him, I'm not so sure he would appreciate knowing that you came within a hair's breadth of actually doing so. Get what I'm saying?"
Doug Miller, big bad Doug Miller looked down right abashed as he nodded in agreement. "I get you. Maybe I should get away from here for a while, I'm still not firmly in control of the powder keg."
"The gym is in the basement, Doug." Don volunteered, walking over to the two agents. "You wouldn't be the first to beat a punching bag into submission while dressed in street clothes."
"Think I'll be able to find someone to spot me?" Doug asked, even as David walked up behind him and clasped him on a shoulder.
"I will." David offered. "And trust me when I say - I know where you're coming from."
Don nodded in agreement, then gave a final piece of advice before sending the two off to the Gymnasium in the basement. "Just be ready to go at our two lovelies in about 2 hours. That should be long enough to have them sweating buckets before we 'talk' with them about their assault on a innocent 'civilian'."
Doug grinned a truly feral smile. "And I want to hear every last word of their 'explanation'."
"You will." Don reassured him, and Abby, before heading off to grab a cup of coffee before giving a verbal report to the ADA On-Call, Sheila Westenkichner, about the early morning raid and arrest.
***********
"Jorge, Curious George, you are in some serious trouble." Don said to Jorge Silvio after killing a good ten or twelve minutes flipping through old case files. Doug stood behind Silvio and glowered.
"I didn't do nothin' man. This is harassment. I know my rights." Jorge muttered.
"Tell me about the poor schmuck you and your buddy shadowed from LAX to the Fullerton Arboretum."
"Don't know what you're talkin' about. Didn't shadow no one. You seeing things."
"Uh-huh. You've been talking, Jorge, to all the right people." Don nodded at Colby and Megan behind the one-way glass and a montage of still photographs flickered to life on a wall next to Jorge. "Gee, you got a twin you never told anyone about, Jorge?"
The first montage of photos was clearly taken from the footage at LAX and there were more than just one picture up on the video display. Jorge shot a glance at the photos, then back at Don. "How you know that's me? There's all kinds of guys out there that look like that."
"Oh sure, you could say that, Jorge." The photo on the wall with the best angle of the tattoo became the only photo on the wall then a square appeared and centered on the arm of Jorge's Look-a-Like and enlarged the area. "But how many schmoes wearing those colors would have a cartoon monkey inked on their bicep?"
Jorge looked at the enlarged area and swallowed. He looked back at Don and scowled. "I'm sure you're gonna tell me."
"Nope. After you made the mistake of spit'in on Sgt. Torres this morning, we've got DNA that will connect you to the guy you and your buddy tailed from LAX, abducted from Fullerton and left dead or dying on the side of the road in Yorba Linda." Don closed the two files on the table and made a cut-off motion to the official observers to have them turn off the video screen and the room's lights.
In the 70% gloom, he made one final comment. "Just be happy I'm not leaving you in here, alone, with Miller. The man you and DeShayne left on the side of the road was his partner." Don smiled when he noticed that Jorge lost all of his natural coloring in his face after Doug silently popped his knuckles and chuckled. Evilly. "Or you could talk to me and I'd see what I could do to keep you from dying today."
Jorge swallowed and licked his lips. "All right! All right! Jeez...this s what I get for tryin' to make some scratch. What d'ya wanna know?"
"Everything. And, be advised, we're recording this confession and you will be required to sign a transcript afterwards." Don nodded to Doug who smirked and left the room.
Jorge sighed and his shoulders drooped in defeat. "Man..." he muttered.
~*~*~*~*~
Colby and Megan chuckled in the observation room as she turned the recorders on and he noted aloud, "He's gotten sharper at the whole psychological mind screws in interrogation. Guess he's been listening to you, Megs."
"Of course he has. He knows greatness when he hears it."
Colby nodded to David, who looked over at Doug Miller who held up a hand, then disappeared into the break room for a few minutes. He came back out, drying his hands on a handful of paper towels. "Cold water wash, makes my hands ache, but also primes the knuckles for massive cracking on demand." He nodded toward the other perp's, DeShayne, interrogation room. "Shall we, Agent Sinclair?"
David grinned. "I like the way you think, Doug."
"I just hope I get to touch this one . . . Eppes didn't give me the signal I wanted."
"Down, boy. If you rip him into pieces, I get to do the paperwork."
"No major mayhem, Sinclair, I promise."
~*~*~*~*~
David opened the door to the Interrogation Room # 2 and walked in with Doug right behind him and shut the door. Doug went directly over to stand behind DeShayne and the same routine commenced as had with Silvio. David flipping through the files while Doug glowered at DeShayne.
It took a little longer to cause DeShayne to twitch his back and try to crane his head around to look at Doug, who promptly flicked his ear just like he had done to Silvio. It took five more corrective actions before Thomas DeShayne started to whine about not having broken no laws and didn't do nuthin and moaning about how the FBI would be sorry they had ever screwed with him or Jorge.
David didn't even ask anything before signaling to Colby to flip the still photomontage up on the video screen and clicking his tongue behind his teeth. "Man, those are some fantastically clear surveillance pics. Don't you think so, Thomas? I mean, you can make out that missing front tooth of yours, not to mention Silvio's monkey tat."
Thomas flicked a glance at the montage on the wall. "Don't know what you're talkin' about." He mumbled.
"Oh, right. You were just hanging around LAX near the Avis desk and decided to leave just as that guy at the counter did. It's all one massive coinkydink. Right?"
"You can't prove it was me. This is...is...racial profiling, that's what this is."
"Right, can't prove anything." The photos changed to a different location, but there was Thomas and Silvio and The Poor Schmuck in the parking area of Fullerton Arboretum. "Amazing coincidence." David snorted and shook his head sideways. "Did you really piss in the back of the patrol unit that brought you over, Thomas?"
Thomas grinned.
David smiled back at him. "Smooth, E-lax, real smooth. Miller, LAPD promised DNA samples on Bright Boy here and his dippity-doo buddy, right?"
Doug nodded. "ASAP too."
"And we recovered viable samples from the Yorba Linda dump job, right?" David winced in his mind, and made a note to apologize to Doug later, once they had this skell's confession on tape.
Doug nodded. "Yeah."
"So, Thomas, you watch television much?"
"Depends what's on...and if we got cable or not."
"You're a bright guy, I bet you watch CSI, don't need cable for that, right?"
Thomas shook his head. "I've watched a few times. Got some goooood lookin' women on that show."
"So you know what DNA is, right?" David asked, almost feeling sorry for the shithead. Almost. But he'd been 'in' on the beating of a fellow FBI Agent and that would not be allowed to stand.
Thomas nodded. "What'cha getting' at?"
"You and Jorge beat someone up, leaving pieces of yourselves on him, then you dumped him on the side of the road in Yorba Linda and, being the premier investigative unit that is the FBI, we managed to recover your DNA from the dump job and-" David let out a snicker, "-since you were kinda enough to piss away your DNA, pretty soon I'm going to be able to hang that crime right on your urethral cells."
Thomas stared at him. "My what?"
"Urethral cells. Itty bitty pieces of yourself that get flushed away, usually down a drain or a toilet, every time you take a leak." David closed the file in front of him, and then stood up. "This skell ain't going to tell us jack squat to save his hide, let's leave him to rot, Miller."
Doug cracked his knuckles one at a time. "Leave him with me for a couple of minutes, I'm sure I can get something outta him."
Thomas shot Doug a nervous look.
"Now, Miller, I know the guy was your partner . . . but we've got this SOB and his buddy. No need to tank your second career by killing someone. Accidentally, of course." David made a show of 'counseling' Miller and gently trying to force the man from the room.
Doug scowled. "That first time was a mistake ya know. How was I to know that the tarp covering the hole wasn't there any more?" He made a great show of just standing there, glowering at Thomas.
"Hey, man, I know ..." David stepped aside, as planned, and Doug made a mad, short dash toward Thomas just as Colby burst in through the door and 'tackled' Miller up against a wall even as DeShayne scrambled out of the former linebacker's way. "MILLER!"
If he hadn't seen Colby and Doug choreographing that very stunt in a spare room earlier, David would've sworn on a stack of bibles that what he was seeing was real and that Miller was deadly serious about wrapping his hands around Thomas' neck. But a few grunts and one body slam later, Granger was heaving Miller out of the room and David was able to slam the door shut behind the combatants and lock himself and DeShayne in the room.
DeShayne's stared at David wild-eyed. "What the fuck was that?! You tryin' to get me killed?!"
"Hey, you're still kickin'. I'm more worried about the man that came in here after Miller. Once he's done putting Miller in his place, he may just decide that it is worth the month's worth of paperwork to finish the job." David made a show of looking rather terrified of the slightly smaller, but obviously tougher, white guy who'd just dragged Miller off. "He's former covert-ops and, frankly, those guys do not have their heads screwed on right, ya know what I mean?"
DeShayne looked David up and down. "You sayin' he could...oh, man..." He threw himself in the chair and put his head in his hands. "I am so screwed."
"Talk to me, Tommy. Tell me what happened and why and, maybe, he'll be satisfied and will leave you alone." David slid into a chair next to Thomas DeShayne and offered his 'support' without actually touching the man. "You willing to talk to me, Tom?" He glanced toward the cameras in the room, without looking like he was looking, and noticed the recording lights snapping on.
DeShayne looked at David and mumbled. "I talk to you and I'm dead. I don't and I'm dead."
"Who's going to kill you if you talk? I can promise that if you help us, we can get you protection." By putting the real SOB behind Webster's assault behind bars, or six feet under. David mentally confessed.
DeShayne snorted. "Protection, yeah, right. Protection in prison, sure." He sighed. "I am so screwed." He looked up at the ceiling, then down at the table, then over at David. "Jorge did all the talking. I never said a word."
David nodded solemnly. "I understand. Just tell me everything from the beginning."
