Timing in Everything: Chapter 10

It was just past 0000, Bahrain time—which made it 2100, Zulu time, which is what the Truman was on, despite their ability to see NSA Bahrain from deck—by the time everyone involved gathered in the office of the late NCIS Special Agent McCaw. DiNozzo was seated behind the desk, Ziva on it, and Todd Freiler and Gabi Stone were seated in the office's remaining two chairs. In Gabi's case, she was seated in that chair after clearing it of the miscellaneous files McCaw had apparently been keeping there. "Ugh," she muttered, moving the pile of papers aside. "Who's taking over this caseload?"

"You volunteering?" DiNozzo asked automatically.

"I think putting me on an aircraft carrier would defeat the purpose of me transferring to NCIS to be near my husband," Gabi replied. DiNozzo nodded slightly and got down to business.

"First of all, we're going to be having company in the next few days." He preempted any questions or protests by putting his hands up defensively. "Not my call," he said quickly. "Vance declared this to be NCIS' number one priority, and the number one priority gets the number one people. Not that you two aren't good," he said, nodding to his two field agents, "but desperate times call for desperate measures. In this case, really desperate." He paused a second, either for effect or for questions, before saying, "Gibbs and Abby were on the first flight out a couple of hours ago. Kim Tomblin will be here as soon as she finishes with her grandfather's funeral and gets a flight out of god-knows-where, Washington."

"I was not aware Abby left DC," Ziva commented. "Ever."

"Like I said, Sweetcheeks, desperate times," Tony replied. "All I can say about all that is that it's going to be a crowded boat."

"Ship," Freiler and Ziva said in unison.

"I like calling them boats, too," Gabi commented with a shrug. "Mostly because it pisses the Navy off."

"You are aware that you are the Navy now, right?" Freiler asked. She shrugged again.

"I'm still adjusting," she replied. "Speaking of adjusting, who the hell designed these aircraft carriers? Is the goal to confuse anyone who manages to get close enough to invade, in case the blue camouflage wasn't confusing enough? Because I sure as hell can't find my way anywhere."

"It will make sense eventually," Ziva assured her.

"Guys," DiNozzo interjected, his head hurting far too much for their usual asides. "I know I like to keep campfires casual, but it's been a long day and we're nowhere near done. Who has anything? Freiler, you're up."

"Sure," the gangly blond agent replied. He stared at his notes for a minute before looking up again. "Obviously, fire control and medical personnel did their thing before I could get in and take pictures, but I photographed the scene as it was when we arrived, before any samples were taken. The bomb was definitely set from the inside. We collected samples of the explosive material and found the fuse. They've been sent to our lab." He glanced down at his notes again, and then back up. "We haven't gotten the results yet."

"Okay," DiNozzo said. "Is there anything we do have the results on?"

"Not yet," Freiler repeated. "But the guys in the lab said the GC-MS should be done by tomorrow morning." He glanced down at his watch. "I guess that'll be later today."

"Or something." DiNozzo sighed and turned to his senior field agent. "Gabi. What've you got?"

"A headache from trying to find my position on this boat?"

Remember his first time on an aircraft carrier—and a few times after that first time—DiNozzo couldn't help a slight smile at that. "Other than that."

Gabi gave a tired smile in reply before becoming serious. "I spent most of the day hanging out with the comms guys, and let me tell you, all my questions about what happened to the AV club after graduating from high school have been answered." She shook her head in wonder. "It's too bad there's no place in blueberries for pocket protectors, because I'm sure—"

"Gabi."

"Sorry, Tony. I tend to ramble when I'm sleep deprived. And according to Eric, I talk in my sleep when I'm stressed. So, the hours of hanging out with the AV club summarized: there was no one around when the bomb went off. Since the Truman left port six weeks ago, radar picked up a number of suspected pirate ships, two Chinese submarines, an Indian frigate, two Saudi ships, and obviously, the Israeli ship that dropped off our midshipmen and their training officers. And a bunch of merchant vessels. They gave me a number, but I didn't think it was important and didn't write it down."

"But nothing the morning of the blast."

"Nope. And only our ships the night before, in case you were thinking someone snuck on board, placed a bomb, and snuck off."

"That would actually be kinda impressive," DiNozzo admitted. He spent a few seconds thinking about that before dismissing it more as something that Ziva's band of merry metsada operatives would do than anything coming from terrorists or Somali pirates.

And speaking of Ziva… "Get anything from our Israeli guests?" he asked, directing the question toward his wife.

She shook her head slightly. "Nothing useful," she replied. "The injured midshipman—"

"Midshipman Segal," Tony finished for her. She frowned at him.

"Yes," she said slowly.

"I spent some time in the medical areas, trying to figure out what was going on," he admitted. She raised her eyebrows at him. After working together for more than six years, he didn't have to work hard to figure out what that look meant. "Sorry. I'll let you finish."

"Thank you, Tony," she replied. "Midshipman Segal is still in the ICU and expected to recover. There is also a midshipman missing, Michael Spivak. His last duty station was at nuclear reactor one for the night shift, which ended at 0800."

"So what was he doing on the other side of the ship?"

"What did you just say about letting me finish, Tony?"

"Ah, marital bliss," Gabi joked.

"Believe me, it gets better," Freiler informed her. They all turned their gazes on the one person in the room who had been married longer than six months. "Sorry. I'll be quiet."

"As Tony just pointed out to us, the reactor is not close to the bomb. It turns out that Midshipman Spivak has a history of going places where he should not because of women. In this case, it was Petty Officer Leah Jackson."

"Communications," Gabi chimed in. "She worked the night shift and stayed a bit late." She paused a second. "She's one of the deceased."

"So I guess she won't be answering any questions about Midshipman Spivak," DiNozzo commented. He frowned and studied the three others in the room. "Gabi, when we're done here, go over to the reactor, talk to the people Spivak had been working with, find out what kind of a guy he's been on this mission, see if anyone noticed anything suspicious."

"Got it," the former FBI agent replied. Ziva wasn't so quick to agree.

"The Israeli component is my investigation," she argued. "If anyone is to go to the reactor to ask about Spivak, it should be me."

DiNozzo knew the look he gave her was a little bit too condescending to be giving his wife, but he was tired and wasn't in the mood to argue. He normally didn't mind arguing, because their fighting usually led to…other activities, but since that already wasn't a possibility, he figured he might as well skip the fighting as well. "Who do you think is going to get answers about whether or not an Israeli midshipman has been acting strange: an NCIS field agent, or Mossad operative?"

"If you send Agent Stone, how do you know that the supervisor will not assume that Midshipman Spivak was behind the explosion, and say things that did not happen?"

"You think he'll lie?"

"Not intentionally," she argued. "I am saying that perhaps he will read too much into innocent situations and believe them to be suspicious. If an Israeli were to talk to him—"

"You're Mossad, Sweetcheeks. That tends to make people a little bit nervous, and nervous people say whatever they believe the person asking questions wants to hear. Gabi's in, you're out. End of discussion. What else have you got?"

Ziva glared briefly, but knew he had a point and dropped it. "The invitation for the training mission came from the US Navy, Sgan Aluf—Commander—Pizanis did not know who, exactly. It was not classified, but I do not believe it was highly publicized. Avrum is looking into who knew about it and if any of those people would be grinding axes with the United States or Israel."

"Has an axe to grind," Tony corrected. "Not grinding axes."

"Yes, Tony," she snapped. "And I am tired and have been speaking Hebrew all day and do not care."

"I think we're all a bit tired," he agreed, right as a yawn escaped. He could barely stay awake for his own meeting. "The divers are still in the water and taking the helicopters back and forth is a bit ridiculous, so I got the COB to get us some quarters. We're aft and port." He tossed keys to each of his field agents. "Gabi, talk to the guys at reactor one first, then get some sleep. Freiler, you follow-up with the lab in the morning." He glanced at his watch and tried to do some quick math, but math was never his strong suit and quick didn't work when he had been up for that many hours. "Gibbs and Abby should be landing around 1800 tomorrow. Bahrain time, not Zulu. Let's see if we can get something to report by the time they get here." His attempts at a pep talk were met with tired nods from his team. "Okay, guys. Bright and early tomorrow."