Chapter Summary: Gibbs kicks like a mule. ~.^

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from the TV-shows "NCIS" and "The Sentinel". NCIS is created and owned by David P. Bellisarius and CBS. The Sentinel still belongs to Paramount and Pet Fly. I'm just playing… No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Beta'd by: Tejas and lightly edited by my (in)significant other... Any mistakes left are mine and somewhat deliberate.

For: Ree/Triskellion... she knows why and thanks again


Chapter Nine

Gibbs swore he hadn't been gone that long but, by the time he'd made it back up to the conference room, the room was almost unrecognizable; at least as the neat work area that it normally was. Normal was an extendable conference table, two whiteboards, and a coffee table surrounded by four low chairs. Now the coffee table and chairs had been moved aside to make room for three more desks, another two whiteboards had been commandeered from somewhere-- one of them looked suspiciously like the high tech boards in Director Morrow's office. Two computers had also been acquired, with printers, and were set up on the side board next to the coffee maker. Given that he'd ordered DiNozzo and Sandburg to stay put while he escorted Ellison down to forensics, Gibbs was momentarily at a loss for how the additional furnishings had made their way into the conference room…spotting Ducky standing just behind DiNozzo answered that question.

Strewn about the desks were files, photos, computer printouts and what looked to be half the contents of the United States Library of Congress. The other half of the library was apparently being ferried in as Gerald appeared in the hallway carrying another stack of books to add to the piles already in the conference room. Gibbs neatly stepped aside to let the ME's assistant in while indicating with a finger to his lips that Gerald need not mention his presence.

Gerald complied with the unspoken command, placing the books down on the closest desk before heading back out of the room and towards the relative safety of autopsy.

"Thank you, Gerald," Ducky acknowledging the sound of the books being set down without bothering to turn away from the whiteboard he was intently scrutinizing, making his own scrawls in the minute spaces still available, alongside Sandburg and DiNozzo.

Rather than announcing his presence, Gibbs walked quietly up behind the three men and had a quick look at the conference room's main white board. The board's surface had been divided into two, with the top half showing a working timeline, whilst the bottom half was already littered with post-it notes as well as a fair collection of notations directly on the board.

"I'm fairly certain our killer sees himself as some sort of protector/avenger," Sandburg was saying, though as far as Gibbs could see there was nothing on the board that supported that statement; maybe Sandburg had read that fact straight off the perp.

"A vigilante?" DiNozzo interrupted.

A good question, Gibbs was happy DiNozzo had asked, as it saved him from asking the same question. The upside of knowing their killer was a vigilante was they'd have some way of anticipating his target pool once the reason for said vigilantism was discerned. Dealing with Kyle Boone had taught Gibbs the value of being able to anticipate the behavior of a serial killer, whatever their motive. The downside was that there would be more killings.

"Our unsub might be exhibiting vigilantism, but I'm loath to come out and call him a vigilante, particularly in front of the press."

"Why not?" Ducky asked. "I mean, after all, I'm sure the press will pick up the vigilante angle soon enough. They do like a sensational angle if they can find one."

"That may be the case, Doctor Mallard…"

"Ducky, please," Doctor Mallard interrupted, inviting the profiler into a select group of people who he would allow to call him by that name.

"Ducky," Sandburg acknowledged the permission, appearing to also understand the magnitude of the gesture. "The problem with calling our unsub a vigilante is that we, Americans in particular, have this kind of hero worship thing happening when it comes to vigilantes." Without Jim present to curtail his natural bent towards instruction Blair fell into teaching mode. "I mean, think about it, The A-Team, Knight Rider, Airwolf, MacGyver, Magnum, Batman, The Justice League, Spiderman, The X-Men, even the Phantom. The list goes on, and on. Individuals or teams of individuals taking out the bad man that no one else can touch. If we tell the press that our unsub is a vigilante we will, in affect, be justifying his behavior, particularly to the unsub. The last thing we need is to start feeding his into his delusion."

"I get that part," DiNozzo groused. "What I want to know is how does killing the ex-partners of Navy or Marine personnel satisfy this unsub's need for vengeance?" DiNozzo continued, showing that he had more than a little understanding of psychology hidden inside his pretty head. "For that matter, why kill at all? Look at Magnum; he didn't go around just killing people."

"No, but he wasn't above bending the law a little to bring someone to justice." Blair smiled as he picked up on the fact that he'd apparently just insulted one of DiNozzo's heroes. "At its roots, the term vigilante comes from the latin vigilans or vigilantis, to watch, with vigilantism being derived from vigilante, but vigilantism or vigilante behavior has little to do with watching and more to do with acting. The vigilante illegally punishes a person or persons they think of as criminals."

"But our victims aren't criminals, are they? While I suppose there are some who might consider lawyers just one step removed from being criminals," Ducky pointed at the photograph of Baltimore's third victim, Ms Kong An. But you've also got a dentist, an IT expert and a teacher as victims." Ducky started playing devil's advocate having finally noticed Gibbs' presence asking the questions Gibbs would have been asking but he apparently didn't want to interrupt whatever train of thought Sandburg was on. "Are you even sure these are the work of a serial killer? The apparent lack of consistency in the victimology, different ethnic groups, different professions, different locations, a complete lack of criminal records, I mean, are you really certain that it is a single serial killer? Could you be suffering from a type of blinkeredness, seeing a serial where none exists?"

"I'm positive." Sandburg might have frowned at the question; Gibbs wasn't sure since he couldn't see the profiler's face, but the tone of voice suggested that Sandburg was deep in some thought trail and only marginally paying attention to those around him. Gibbs was soon disabused of the notion that Sandburg wasn't paying attention, however, when Ducky started speaking again.

"I see no evidence of a signature in the behavior of the killer, Blair. Apart from the latest victim, the tenuous connection to the Navy or the Marines for the other victims does not sound like enough to link these crimes," Ducky continued, attempting to probe Sandburg's reasoning.

"The lack of a signature is not that telling," Blair explained. "While some serial killers leave behind evidence of psychological markers, the things we call signatures, not all serial killers have a ritualistic need that they must satisfy as part of the crime act. The more functional aspects of the crime, the modus operandi, are more likely to be of use, as the mode of the crime will evolve into a pattern that the killer is comfortable with. As for victimology, which I think is going to be the key to identifying our unsub, we know that all of the Tony's Baltimore victims were married to a member of the Navy or the Marines. The same holds for the Peoria and Philadelphia homicides."

"But not the Pittsburg homicides," Ducky pressed. Apparently the ME had had the chance to look over the additional files that DiNozzo had brought with him.

"At first glance Pittsburg doesn't fit unless, and yes this is speculation, the first homicide was a mistake. See," Sandburg pointed to the point on the timeline where two homicides occurred in quick succession, "the first victim, Janice Gilmore, was the identical twin of the second Pittsburg victim, Sarah Hopman."

"So the killer went back and murdered the sister, what, four days later?" Gibbs' voice startled Sandberg momentarily… Gibbs had been that quiet and Sandberg was in the zone, so to speak. Gibbs was reading the timeline and didn't like what he was seeing. Between the fourteenth of November 2000 and now they had at least nine homicides from four jurisdictions that could be possibly part of the larger group and that was without the possible Boston homicides that Bunka had flagged in his interview with the press; crimes that they didn't have the details on yet.

"Yes, and one thing I don't think you are going to like, Agent Gibbs, is that I don't think the November 14 homicide is the first of them, either."

"Why not?" Tony interjected.

"Because, I expect the unsub's modus operandi to improve or evolve until he's settled into a working pattern. The Baltimore murders show a similar MO to the Peoria homicides; our unsub is killing efficiently and effectively now. This self-confidence is backed up by the Pittsburg homicides. The unsub is sure enough in his ability to get to his target that, even having made a mistake, he's been able to go back and finish the task while the sister's death was being investigated."

"Wouldn't the family have been on alert?" Ducky broke back into the discussion. "Even if the local police didn't suspect the sister's death to be part of a serial homicide, wouldn't they have been closely monitoring the relatives?"

Blair suddenly swung to face Dr. Mallard, practically vibrating with excitement. "That's it, Ducky, that's it!"

"That's what?" Gibbs snapped.

"That's part of the key to the MO; the victimology. Oh, oh, oh…" Blair raced over to the table where he'd set up the Peoria and Pittsburg homicide files. "Our unsub has to have a valid reason for calling on the victims. Look," Blair held up the file for Jennifer Millwater, Peoria's first victim, at least that they were aware of. "See, no sign of forced entry."

Tony quickly stepped up beside Blair and started sorting through the Baltimore files, "Blair's right, there's no obvious sign of forced entry in the Corken, the An or the Jones homicides. Given what Ellison did to the door at the Kirby residence, we may never be able to determine if entry was forced or not, but I'd be willing to bet Kirby let the perp in as well."

"So you think the killer was known to all the victims?" Gibbs wasn't buying that…that sort of link would have been obvious, even to the most untrained detective. The same name appearing in known-to-victim lists across multiple homicides should have raised a red flag somewhere.

"Not necessarily known to the victims," Blair commented, easily picked up on Gibbs' disbelief. "What if the unsub approached the victims as a representative of the Navy? That would probably get them through the front door without too many problems."

"Actually that would work rather well, don't you think, Jethro?" Ducky smiled as he asked. "After all, in the course of your investigations you often have need to interview current, and past, partners of Naval and Marine personnel. How often does flashing your badge get you through the front door?"

"Damn," Gibbs wasn't at all pleased with where Sandburg and Ducky were going with this. "Hell, the only time my badge doesn't easily get me through the door is when I need a warrant. So are we looking for someone in law enforcement?"

"Not necessarily, Agent Gibbs," Blair answered while continuing to flick though the open files in front to him, "I can think of at least three professions that would get me through the front door without too many questions; priests, doctors, counselors. That's why I think we need to look over the victims' details again. The why of these homicides is in the victimology, we just need to find it."

"So you are really sure it is a serial?" Tony asked, seeking reassurance. Now that he had access to the actual details from Pittsburg and Peoria, his pet theory wasn't looking so hot, at least to him. When he'd heard Ducky's comments about a kind of blinkeredness Tony had worried that that was exactly what he'd had done; seen a serial where none existed.

"Oh, I'm sure, Tony." Blair didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was reassuring the Baltimore detective. "Very sure. The only thing I'm not sure of, is just how many kills our unsub has made."

"And the Navy connection?" Gibbs snapped.

"Is likely to be part of the key to the victimology," Blair commented with a wry grin. "That also means there is more than enough reason for you to keep point control of the case, Agent Gibbs. In the meantime, I'm going to need access to the naval employment database, and the movements and deployments of the victims' partners."

"I'll get Abby up here to set you up," Gibbs stated as he picked up the phone. "She's better at pulling that sort of information." Gibbs could, and would, use the computing tools and databases available to him when he had to, but he wasn't above getting the right person in to do the job faster and better than he could.

"How about you log me in, Agent Gibbs?" Tony interrupted Gibbs' dialing. "I'm a fair hand at querying databases and that leaves Abby free to work with Ellison."

Gibbs looked at Tony, really looked at him.

Tony, who'd survived his father - an alpha businessman of the highest order, his military academy instructors, and everything his police academy instructors threw at him, didn't flinch, just. Something about stare seemed to strip away the 'frat boy' and look at the man beneath.

"No poking around where you're not supposed to be," Gibbs admonished as he logged into the NCIS system. "Ducky, you mind keeping an eye on these two while I go talk to Abby?"

"Not at all, Jethro," Ducky smiled indulgently at the retreating back.

"Not much of a conversationalist, is he?" Tony smiled warmly at Ducky, all the while filing away the hand movements he'd observed as Agent Gibbs had logged on.

"You'll get used to it, my dear boy," Ducky warned Tony.


"Abs, what you got for me?" Gibbs walked into the lab worried about the lack of sound; normally you could hear Abby's music from two blocks away.

Abby turned and eyed Gibbs up and down, frowning as she noticed a distinct lack of Caf-Pow forthcoming. "Nothing, if you don't have anything for me," she teased her boss.

"Something like this?" Gibbs lifted a mega-sized Caf-Pow into view.

"You're forgiven." Abby beamed a smile at her boss as she grabbed the drink container and began to commune with its contents.

"So," Gibbs looked pointedly at the evidence strewn about Abby's lab.

"I matched the shoe print. Turns out it's from a rip-off Gucci cap-toe Chelsea boot; not real popular but not terribly unpopular either."

"How do you know it's a rip off?"

"Tread patterns right, but the shape of the heel is slightly off when compared to the actual Gucci last. They're good quality rip-offs, don't get me wrong, Gibbs, but they are still ripoffs. I think your killer likes to dress pretty, kind of like that Italian stallion you left upstairs," Abby had apparently paid more than a little attention to the cut of DiNozzo's tailoring, "but he can't afford the real stuff."

"That's good, Abs, anything else?"

"Hey, no need to get greedy," Abby smiled as she told Gibbs off. "Thanks to Jim-boy, here, we also know that the killer's smarter than your average killer."

Gibbs turned to face Ellison, who was apparently lost in a study of the killer's clothing. "Ellison," Gibbs barked when the man failed to acknowledge Abby's obvious lead in.

Jim didn't move.

"Hey, Ellison!" This time the bark had some bite but it might as well have been a whimper for all the affect it had.

Abby, having read enough about Sentinels to be dangerous, recognized what was wrong, but before she had a chance to voice a warning, Gibbs had applied his standard technique for gaining someone's attention; the head slap.

Chaos broke loose.

Ellison, rarely zoning – today being something of an exception-- and generally brought out of said zone, gently, by Blair or someone trained by Blair, was startled out of the zone and reacted accordingly. The clothing that had been the cause of his zone was dropped, he pivoted on his right leg, using his left leg to sweep Gibbs' feet out from beneath him.

Gibbs barely managed to catch himself before he fell face down, his Marine training saving him that ignominious fate. Springing backward and dropping into fighting stance, legs slightly apart and just on the diagonal, weight balanced, his arms up and ready to defend, Gibbs waited to see what Ellison would do next. It wasn't long in coming.

Jim, still slightly disoriented by the brutal way he's been snapped out of the zone and not able to sense Blair nearby, struck out at the perceived threat. Left leg snapping a kick to the groin before dropping to the ground as Jim stepped forward and followed the move up with right cross to the jaw.

Gibbs successfully blocked both moves, though the right cross only just. "Ellison, snap out of it before I do something we'll both regret," Gibbs roared as he stepped back out of reach.

Ellison followed apparently intent on putting Gibbs down.

Gibbs, with no choice now but to defend himself, fought back with quiet efficiency.

Abby, who had enjoyed Fight Club and had actually wondered what it would be like to be up close and personal found she didn't like the whole up close and personal. Ellison and Gibbs were very evenly matched and it looked like the only way this fight would end was going to be when one of the two men final made a mistake.

The mistake, when it was made, was slight and was the result of the laboratory's layout rather than an action of either man. As Gibbs sidestepped the Mass Spectrometer, he passed a hair too close to Ellison and that was enough to tip the scales. Jim, in the midst of a left punch to the gut over-balanced and Gibbs took advantage, grasping Jim's fist and twisting in an Aikido move that turned and forced Ellison up against the wall. The move however cost Gibbs a black eye before Ellison settled and finally worked out where he was.

Face pressed, hard, against the wall, Ellison suddenly shook before he relaxed within the bounds of Gibbs restraint.

"You back with us now?" Gibbs asked as he stepped back and away. When Ellison finally indicated he was with them now Gibbs growled, "Still pack a mean punch."

"You too," Ellison acknowledged. "Any chance both of you won't tell Sandburg about this?" Jim looked hopefully at Abby who was currently hiding in her office and obviously not sure if it was safe to come out yet.

"Not a chance," Gibbs smirked while he rubbed the side of his face. "Abs, it's safe to come out now."

"You sure?" Abby peeked around the door, looking at both combatants. Once she was certain hostilities were not about to recommence, she took a look around her lab. The dark look that she turned on Gibbs and Ellison was enough to make both men step back and away from the now enraged forensic scientist. "Gibbs, if you've so much as scratched Major Masspec, they'll never find your body."

"Hey, "Gibbs growled, "he started it." Gibbs pointed at Ellison.

"But I'll finish it," Abby was not a happy camper. "So, Jim, what did you zone on this time?" The smile she sent along with the request was as good as any Blair had sent his way when ever Jim was in deep kimchi.

Ellison might have been an ex-ranger, he might still be an active detective, he was a Sentinel, but one thing he wasn't was a fool. Dangerous things came in small packages that smiled, take Blair, for example, and Abby looked as though she was cut from the same cloth. "Any chance I can have a private word with Dr. Mallard?" Jim asked by way of explanation.

Gibbs, and Abby, blinked at that non-sequitur.

"I'm sure I can pull him away," Gibbs commented wryly while he allowed a pointed look to rest momentarily on Ellison's cheek where a rather spectacular bruise could be seen forming. "Better get him to give you a once over, Ellison."

Jim, and Abby, noticed that no mention was made of Dr. Mallard looking over one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Duck, could you meet us down in Autopsy?" Gibbs hung up before the other man had a chance to ask why.

"That was abrupt, even for you, Gibbs," Abby scolded.

"Discretion, Abby, is often the better part of valor." Gibbs returned fire. "I've got the feeling if I had mentioned why, we'd would have had Sandburg and DiNozzo joining us as well. Pretty sure Ellison here doesn't want Sandburg around while he talks to Ducky and that was before we'd had our little tussle."

"Damn straight." Jim was still trying to work out how to explain the new bruises particularly when playing least in sight wasn't a possibility.


Doctor Mallard walked into Autopsy and very nearly decided to walk out again. The sight of Gibbs and Ellison, both sporting more than a couple of bruises each was enough to make him question the wisdom of his chosen profession. "What have you two gentlemen been up to?" Ducky asked as he approached Gibbs; disapproval in every line of his posture.

"Getting acquainted," Gibbs snapped. Ellison might not have actually cracked his ribs but Gibbs was sufficiently familiar with feeling of bruised ribs to know that he needed some strapping and pain meds, post-haste. The only saving grace, at least as far as Gibbs was concerned, was that Ellison had been favoring his right leg as they'd come down from Abby's lab.

"Jethro," Ducky scolded, "didn't your parents teach you to play well with others?" The eye roll that accompanied the question indicated that the comment had been made in jest, though the tone was fairly disapproving. "On second thoughts, Jethro, don't answer that question."

"He started it," Gibbs complained as he nodded his head toward Ellison. Gibbs was more than a little annoyed that everyone seemed to be taking the ex-ranger's side in this debate.

"Actually, Ducky, I think is might be your fault," Abby chimed in.

"My fault?" Ducky blinked at the non sequitur.

"Jim was looking over Williams' clothing when he zoned, Duck," Abby was almost bouncing in place as she smelled a mystery wrapped in the victim's clothing.

"Ahhhhhhhhh," Ducky mused as he efficiently dealt with Gibbs' injuries. "Do I need to have a closer look at the clothing again?" Ducky asked Ellison, once he'd finished taping Gibbs' ribs. "I would have thought that sort of inspection was better suited to our Abigail, here. Now, why don't you let me take a look at you, Detective Ellison, while you fill us in?"

Jim didn't want to fill us in; he didn't want to fill anyone in, but it was beginning to look like he'd have little choice. Still, never one to give up without a fight, Jim resorted to standard practice when asked questions he didn't want to answer. He stood, stoic and silent, and jaws clenched so hard any dentist within a five mile radius would be able to hear the sound a new BMW being delivered courtesy of Jim Ellison and an extreme case of TMJ.

The silence stretched across Autopsy as Jim blatantly failed to fill anyone in.

"Ellison," Gibbs started to growl but any further comments were effectively silenced as Ducky stepped into the metaphorical breach.

"Oh dear, that's a rather nasty bruise you've got there, Detective Ellison," Ducky observed as he looked over Ellison's left shin, hoping to ease the tension he could see in the man's jaw line.

"Gibbs always did kick like a mule." Jim still wasn't about to broach the reason he wanted to talk with Dr. Mallard.

"Yes, I've noticed that," Ducky agreed as he started to poke and prod the inflamed shin in an attempt to determine the level of damage. "It doesn't look like Jethro managed to break anything, but I'd recommend staying off that leg as much as possible for the next day or two. We've got ice up in the break room. How about I send Abby up to grab some and we ice that leg down a bit?"

"Ducky," Abby almost whined.

"Abs," Gibbs silenced her with a look having picked up on the fact that Ellison wasn't going to say anything in front of an audience. The question on Gibbs' mind was, would Ellison talk in front of him, or would Ducky need to manufacture an excuse to get him to leave autopsy as well.

"Jethro, would you mind accompanying Abby?" That answered that question was Gibbs' only thought as Ducky spoke.

"We won't be long, Duck," Gibbs almost forcibly escorted Abby out of Autopsy.

"Now, Detective Ellison," Ducky started rummaging around in his desk drawer for some Tylenol. "I take it that you would like a private word?"

Jim cast his sense of hearing out making sure that Abby, of the big mouth and too much enthusiasm, was out of earshot before he addressed the Medical Examiner. "How well did you know Ms Sandburg?"

It was Ducky's turn to blink. The ME had been expecting some commentary of his scientific technique, for want of a better word.

"I'm not sure I understand your question, Detective." Ducky was more than a little perplexed.

"Earlier today you mentioned you knew a Ms Sandburg once. I'd like to know how well you knew her." Jim wasn't giving anything away.

"I'm not sure it is your concern, Detective Ellison," Ducky had dealt with Gibbs in high dudgeon before so squaring off with a pissed of Jim Ellison was almost a walk in the park.

"Actually, I think it is." Jim wasn't giving ground. "Did you know Ms Naomi Sandburg in the biblical sense, and if so, when?"

"Naomi Sandburg?" A very fond look crossed Ducky's face as he remembered a particularly vibrant and vivacious red-haired with whom he'd spent a summer touring the great mystical sites of England, Scotland and Wales; sneaking into Stonehenge and celebrating the goddess had been one of the most magical encounters of his entire life.

"Yes, Naomi Sandburg," Jim said, half-dreading the answer. "Red-haired, sage burning, enlightenment-seeking, tongue-eating, Naomi Sandburg; mother to one Blair Sandburg. That Naomi Sandburg!"


TBC…