Revenge
Ziva was standing ramrod straight against the wall, her hands clenched into tight fists; she wanted to hit him, over and over until her knuckles were raw, to wipe the smirk from Moyes' face.
"Why on earth should I tell you Gibbs? You're the great investigator, find out for yourself."
"We will, but you know better than anyone, we don't have much time." Gibbs leaned closer to Moyes, careful to keep his hands at his sides; this wasn't the time for violence, not right now. "You're going to jail for the rest of your miserable life, McGee can't hurt you anymore."
"Doesn't matter, the damage is done." Moyes shrugged and Ziva felt her nails digging into her palms. She couldn't hold back much longer.
"You have the opportunity to repair the damage, tell us what you gave him, and you can make it right."
Moyes gave her a look of open contempt. "You think I care about the damage to McGee? I was talking about me; it was such a sweet plan and he had to screw it up. He ruined everything; he deserves what's coming..."
She leapt at him, grabbing his throat, ready to squeeze the life out of his worthless body. Gibbs pulled her back, it was too soon, they still needed answers. Ziva took several deep breaths and nodded briefly at Gibbs acknowledging her mistake, she tried again.
"As you say, everything is now ruined, why not tell us? It makes no difference to you, let McGee live."
"Are you really that stupid Agent David? I figured you had to be smart to survive in Mossad. McGee was supposed to die days ago, I wanted him out of action before he got to me...would have worked too if that idiot Soan hadn't taken away his pills."
Now Gibbs was on the offensive. "You poisoned his meds?"
"Isn't that for me to know, and for you to find out?"
It was the sneer that accompanied Moyes' question that snapped Gibbs' hold on his self-control. He didn't feel a thing as his fist connected with Moyes' jaw.
Ziva grabbed Gibbs' hand as he was about to strike again. "Gibbs! Now is not the time; later, when McGee is safe, we can deal with him."
Moyes raised his hands to feel the spot where Gibbs had struck him. "You're such a macho Marine...hitting a man when his hands are tied. Take these cuffs off and let's see how brave you are then."
"Not happening Moyes; if I could I'd have you in leg-irons too!"
"I'm sure you would. Doesn't matter anyhow, the footage from the SQC surveillance camera will give my JAG lawyer something to work with."
Gibbs followed Moyes' glance up to the small camera lens in the corner of the cell. "Didn't I tell you? Chief Soan says there's a problem with the recording right now, won't be working for...how long did he say Agent David?"
Ziva smiled, this was more like the Gibbs she had been hoping to see. "I believe the Chief had someone working on the system, but they were not expecting the repairs to be completed today."
For the first time since they had entered the cell Moyes looked unsettled, he clearly hadn't been expecting any of his crew to turn against him so completely, so fast. Gibbs saw an opportunity.
"Come on Skipper, just tell us what you gave McGee and we can talk about the other charges; maybe keep Rowe's murder off the table."
"No way! Rowe...You're not pinning that one on me, I was on duty when he was killed."
"I'm sure you were, doesn't mean we can't get you on conspiracy. Why Moyes? You put your own ship at risk, the lives of men who served under you...Rowe is dead because of you, McGee...he's fighting for his life."
"Come on Gibbs, you've obviously looked at my service record, do you seriously have to ask."
"You're doing this because you got passed over for promotion?" Gibbs would have said he'd lost the ability to be surprised by what motivated people to do harm, but this...
Moyes gave a snort of annoyance. "For the second time, the promotion...it was my turn Gibbs. I've served my time, I'd earned it...and you know what those sons of bitches told me? They were looking for a new generation of leaders...someone younger...all those years serving my country, what did it get me? I'll tell you what, hail and farewell, that's all."
"And a fat pension."
"Hah! You may think that's sufficient reward for twenty-five years loyal service, I don't. I've got two failed marriages behind me because my wives couldn't cope with my absences, and a son who doesn't want to know me...I don't want to retire, I'm prepared to carry on; and they're going to throw me out like a piece of garbage. I wasn't going to have that happen."
Ziva was impatient for answers, but she had to admire Gibbs' control as he sought to gain Moyes' confidence, to appear sympathetic to his treatment by the Navy. She knew Gibbs was trying to get him to start talking, lower his guard, give them the answer to the only question that mattered to either of them. Knowing Gibbs had good reason didn't make it any easier for her to stand quietly rather than beating the answers out of the twisted individual trying to justify the unjustifiable.
"They want to treat me like trash, spit in my face after allowing me to sacrifice everything…and this ship…they think so much of the Nimitz they're going to ship her off to Everett. Can you believe it? Her home port is San Diego, not some windswept outpost in Washington. I pleaded with them to change their mind, think about all the families who would be uprooted from their homes."
"But they didn't listen…"
"They listened alright, and they laughed at me, me! It's service life Captain, you should know that by now, that's what they said to me…and that was the day I stopped caring about the Navy, this ship…and started caring about me. I must have made it pretty obvious how I felt, guess I spent too much time drinking…Someone made an approach." He looked up at Gibbs, and the smile was back in place. "You know as well as anyone Gibbs, there is always someone out there willing to pay for good intel."
Gibbs knew he was getting close to the point of no return, McGee needed him to get through to Moyes, any way he could, and before long he would let Ziva take over. "This went way beyond intel. You tried to sabotage your own ship!"
"I must admit when...shall we call them my associates? When they first approached...a friend, the plan was simply to see how far we could go before the systems kicked us out, and for me to pick up a fat pay cheque when we were done. It was sweet vengeance for the way they treated me…bet they're not laughing now. No one stopped us, we kept going further and no one stopped us,
"Until McGee came on board..."
"Yes Agent David, thing was I knew he was going to be trouble even before he arrived. Oh, don't look so surprised, you think I got to command a United States aircraft carrier without doing my homework? The one thing I didn't know about was his seasickness, and that cost me dear."
"You started giving him the poison right away?"
Moyes smiled, and this time Ziva could see Gibbs' hand twitch, he wanted to hit Moyes every bit as much as she did.
"He took some Dramamine almost before he'd taken off his flight gear, needed some water to wash them down...you see Gibbs, I didn't have to tamper with his meds, we were ready for him, every bottle of water he drank, the food he ate…even his toothpaste…but then Soan took his meds; if McGee wasn't keeping anything down, he wasn't getting the full dose."
"Damn it Moyes! What did you give him? Tell me now before I let Agent David loose."
"Won't make any difference on two counts Gibbs. One, I won't talk, I've done the SERE training, came through without a problem, and two...it wouldn't matter even if I did tell you, McGee's already dead, he just hasn't stopped breathing yet."
Gibbs leapt at him, if Moyes wouldn't tell him, he would beat the answer out of him, SERE training be damned…the door crashed open, Gibbs didn't hesitate, no one was going to stop him…
"Gibbs! Gibbs, listen!" Frank Hyland had been warned that Gibbs would most likely ignore his appearance, but he had to start trying to make up for all the mistakes he's already made. He grabbed Gibbs' arm. "You have to listen. Director Vance says you have to come, Ms Sciuto, she has something…"
SERE: Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape
Revenge: Sir Francis Drake's ship used during the defence of England against the Spanish Armada, 1588.
