Chapter Seven
Half an hour later, Gibbs strode out of the elevator, acting as if his conversation with Ducky had never happened. He walked purposely into the bullpen, finding McGee working diligently at his computer, with no sign of Ziva or Tony.
"DiNozzo and Ziva not back yet?" Gibbs questioned, startling McGee as Gibbs came to halt in front of his desk.
"Uh, no, not yet, boss," McGee replied. "It's only been about an hour."
"Right."
There was an awkward silence.
Then McGee spoke, saying, "I've pretty much finished setting the parameters for the trap and trace. I've sent it off to Abby, just to see if I've missed anything."
Gibbs nodded. "Good. So it'll be ready by the time the bastards call back."
"Absolutely," McGee replied confidently.
"Good job, Tim," Gibbs praised, offering a rare smile. He paused. "Why don't you take a break? Get some coffee or something."
McGee looked slightly bewildered. "Um, sure, boss. That's if you don't . . ." he trailed off.
Gibbs shook his head and gestured to the elevator. "Go. Tony and Ziva should be back soon. You've done some good work, you deserve a break." Gibbs smiled again, unnerving McGee.
"Right, on it, boss." McGee gave Gibbs another bewildered look and scurried out of the bullpen. He walked over to the elevator and waited.
As the doors of the elevator opened, McGee found himself bumping into Tony who was stepping out of the lift.
"Ouch!" Tony exclaimed. "Probie!"
McGee blushed. "Sorry, Tony," he muttered.
Tony scowled. "You could have done some serious damage, McClumsy," he whined, rubbing his arm.
Ziva rolled her eyes, stepping past Tony who was blocking the lift doors. "He barely touched you, Tony. Stop being such a cry-bear."
"It's cry-baby, Zee-vah," Tony replied, exaggerating her name, "and it hurt." He pouted.
"Ziva's right, Tony," McGee said tiredly as Ziva halted next to McGee, "I barely touched you."
"Well, you could have," Tony sulked. "Watch where you're going next time." He glared at McGee.
"Where are you going anyway?" Tony questioned, looking curious.
"I'm on a break," McGee replied, trying to get into the elevator.
Tony stopped him with his arm. "Really, Probie. Does Gibbs know?" Tony grinned cheekily.
"Yes, Tony, as a matter of fact, he does," McGee snapped, sick of Tony's questions and wanting a cup of coffee. "He told me to take one."
"Really?" That piqued Tony's interest. "I thought he'd have you working to the bone."
"I've modified the program," McGee shrugged. "Abby's looking over it now."
"Hmmm . . ." Tony mused.
"So what, Tony?" Ziva sighed. "McGee is having a break. Is that not allowed?"
"'Course it's allowed," Tony said, emphasizing the last word. "It's just weird, that's all."
"You know, you might be correct, Tony," McGee said suddenly.
He lowered his voice. "He's being . . . nice. Complimented me."
Tony looked worried, but Ziva looked impatient.
"So?" she asked, annoyed.
Tony gave her a dark look as McGee said quietly, "The last time I remember Gibbs like this was when Kate died."
"Oh." Ziva diverted her eyes, feeling awkward. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness," Tony and McGee stated simultaneously.
There was another awkward silence.
Again, McGee broke it, saying, "Right, well, I'm going to get my coffee. You guys want anything?"
"Huh?" Tony looked startled. He shook his head. "I'm fine, McGee. Thanks."
"A coffee would be nice," Ziva smiled gently. "A . . ."
"A hazelnut latte, I know," McGee blurted out.
"Really?" Ziva smirked. "You know, do you?"
"Um, yeah. Comfort coffee," McGee blushed. He pointed at the elevator. "I'll just go get that coffee now," he muttered as he scrambled into the elevator.
Tony grinned. "Probie knows your comfort coffee," he teased, earning a glare from Ziva. "It must be love." He drew out the syllables of the last word.
Ziva punched him in the arm and stormed off to the bullpen.
"I was joking, Ziva," Tony huffed, calling after Ziva as he followed her into their office.
"You get anything?" Gibbs asked as Ziva stormed into the bullpen, followed by a sheepish Tony.
Ziva shook her head. "Sorry, Gibbs. The two we managed to track down had no information of use. Whatever Lazar's plan is, he is keeping it close to home."
Gibbs looked angry, but said nothing.
"Sorry, boss," Tony repeated weakly.
Gibbs sighed and waved his hand, as if he was shrugging them off. "It's not your fault," he answered, rubbing his forehead wearily.
Ziva and Tony shot each other concerned looks; this is what McGee had been talking about.
Abruptly, Gibbs stood and strolled out of the bullpen, not unlike an hour ago.
"Boss?" Tony called after him.
"Abby's lab," Gibbs called back, jabbing at the lift call button. "Gotta see how McGee's program's coming along." The elevator bells chimed and Gibbs stepped inside.
As the doors closed, Tony and Ziva looked at each other, with Tony asking, "Well, what are we meant to do now?"
---
"Gibbs," Abby said without looking up as Gibbs stepped into her lab. She was sitting behind her computer screens.
"Hey, Abs," Gibbs replied, bending over to kiss her cheek. "How did you know it was me?"
Abby shrugged. "My Gibbs sense," she replied, without her usual enthusiasm. "Kinda like a sixth sense, only a Gibbs sense. Or a Spidey sense. I bet you'd make a good Spidey, Gibbs."
"You okay, Abby?" Gibbs asked kindly.
"Okay?!" Abby exclaimed as she swung around in her chair. "Okay? How can I be okay, Gibbs? Someone attacked Shannon. Someone took Kelly!" She looked as though she had been crying.
Then she gasped. "No. What am I going on about?" she muttered to herself. "Bad, Abby. Bad." Gibbs looked confused as Abby flew off her chair and wrapped her arms around Gibbs' neck.
"You shouldn't be asking how I am, I should be asking you. Shannon's injured! Kelly's gone! And you're here! By yourself. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God!" She was borderline hysterical.
"Whoa, calm down, Abs," Gibbs said, patting her on the back. "It'll be okay."
"No!" Abby looked scandalized as she pushed away from Gibbs, tears forming in her eyes. "You shouldn't be consoling me; it should be the other way around!"
"It's okay, really," Gibbs replied, trying to placate an upset Abby.
"Oh, my God, Gibbs," she repeated and flew back into Gibbs' embrace, burying her head in his shoulder.
"Are you okay?"she finally asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"I'll be fine once I get Kel back," Gibbs answered truthfully. "Which is why I am here. You done with the program McGee sent you?"
Abby wiped her eyes as she pulled away from Gibbs. "Yes, sir," she saluted. "I didn't need to change a thing, Timmy's a pro."
"Good job, Abs," Gibbs nodded, kissing the top of her head. "It'll be up and running when Lazar calls?"
"Absolutely, Bossman. And that's absolutely as in Abbysolutely," she grinned, causing Gibbs to smile. This was more like the Abby he knew.
"If there is a single jolt," she started grandly, waving her hands, "a single, teeny-weeny noise, a hidden wave . . . we will find it and record it and analyse it until there is nothing left to analyse! I call it 'The Kelocater'!"
Gibbs looked amused. "Kelocater?"
"Yeah," Abby explained enthusiastically. "A portmanteau of Kelly and locator . . . A Kelocater."
Gibbs smiled softly. "That's great, Abs." He couldn't hide the sadness in his voice.
"Oh, Gibbs." For the third time in mere minutes, Abby threw her arms around Gibbs' neck. "We will find her," she sniffled. "Won't we?"
"'Course we will, Abby," Gibbs murmured. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll get her back."
---
"McGee, you're back," Gibbs barked as he entered the bullpen. McGee has indeed come back from his break, and Gibbs could see Ziva sipping a coffee.
"Yes, boss," McGee replied, even though the comment was redundant.
"Good," Gibbs nodded. "Abby's done with the program. I need you to set it up."
"Boss?"
"I gave you an order, McGee," Gibbs ordered.
"Right on it, boss." McGee started to type furiously on his keyboard.
"DiNozzzo!"
"Yeah, boss?"
"You have the number the call came from?" Gibbs asked quickly.
"It wasn't a phone number, boss," McGee reminded without looking up. "It was an IP address, most likely re-routed."
"I don't care what it was, McGee, just get the number-IP thingy!" Gibbs barked.
"Pulling it up now, boss," Tony replied immediately, pulling the number onto the plasma screen.
"Uh, you can't get any info off it. It's practically untraceable," McGee called without looking up.
"I know that, McGee," Gibbs said, exasperated. "I don't want it to trace it. I want to call it. That still works, yeah?"
"Well, yeah, kinda, but . . ."
"No buts, McGee," Gibbs snapped, "just get that program up and running."
"Gibbs, what are you thinking?" Ziva asked from her desk.
"I'm giving them what they want," Gibbs replied confidently, sitting peacefully at his desk and ignoring the startled looks he received from his team.
"Trust me."
