Chapter 10
DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.
Gibbs walked into the Autopsy room to find Ducky preparing to leave.
"Gotta minute, Duck?"
"Actually, Jethro, I was just heading out. It's been quite a long day," the doctor replied.
"It's important."
"Ah…in that case, why don't we go into my office and sit down?" Ducky suggested.
Ducky sat at his desk and watched as Gibbs paced furiously in front of him. Several minutes passed without Gibbs saying a word.
"If you're worried about young Timothy, his jaw is not broken, however, it is badly bruised. He should be fine in a day or too," Ducky said.
"What the hell's the matter with him, Duck?" Gibbs yelled as he vented his anger.
"Ah…I'm guessing you're referring to Anthony?" Ducky answered.
"I let him stay working on the case, despite concerns from you and the Director and he disobeyed a direct order that could have resulted in his or McGee's death." Gibbs scrubbed his face with his hand in weary frustration. "Then, when I called him on it, he got pissed at me?? Am I missing something here, Duck?"
"I must admit, Jethro, Anthony has always had the maddening tendency to cut himself off from others when he's hurting, but the past few days have been very distressing for him," Ducky said "Have you tried to speak with him about how he's feeling?"
"Don't need to ask, Duck," Gibbs said. "He looks like crap, I know he's not sleeping and he's so hell bent on finding Becky's killer that he took on a 220lb suspect – alone – with a damn concussion and a fractured skull!"
"Yes, that was not what I had in mind when I cleared him for light duties," Ducky replied. "Fortunately, apart from some bruising to his ribs, he did not exacerbate his other injuries."
Gibbs dropped heavily into a chair. "I know Commander Barnes is a friend and DiNozzo's devastated over Becky's death but I've never known him to disregard an order or to be so reckless!"
Ducky was silent for a few moments. "I believe Anthony feels responsible for young Rebecca's death. That's why he's so overwhelmingly determined to find her killer."
"Responsible?? That's crazy!" Gibbs asked. "You said yourself that Becky's wounds were too severe and she would never have reached a hospital in time. How is DiNozzo responsible?"
"I explained that to him myself, Jethro, but he still believes he should have been able to do something else to help her," Ducky explained. "At the very least, he feels dreadfully guilty for promising the Commander and his wife that he would bring their daughter safely home. Perhaps Anthony would benefit from some medical leave after all? "
"Oh no, Ducky," Gibbs said. "In the mood he's in now, I want him right where I can see him. If he happened to get to this guy before we do, there's no telling what he'd do."
Ducky smiled wryly. "Just give him time, Jethro. He's more like you than you know."
"Why do you think I don't want him out of my sight," Gibbs said before hauling himself to his feet and leaving the office. "Night, Duck."
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Gibbs strode back into the bullpen and immediately stopped by Tony's desk. Ziva and McGee were still working but his senior field agent was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's DiNozzo?" he barked.
"Left about 10 minutes ago, Boss," McGee advised. "Said to tell you that he'd get a cab."
Gibbs exhaled audibly and fought to retain his temper. He and DiNozzo had butted heads many times in the past but Tony never left the office before they had cleared the air. His stomach muscles constricted as Gibbs famous gut warned that there was more trouble ahead.
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The funeral had been well attended. Pete & Helen were supported by their family, friends, colleagues from JAG and Helen's workplace who all offered their heartfelt condolences.
Gibbs seated himself at the back of the church and was a little surprised to see Tony join the Commander and Helen's two younger brothers as a pallbearer. Gibbs had misjudged the depth of Tony's friendship with Pete and his family. As they sombrely carried the small white coffin to the waiting hearse, Gibbs wondered whether it was the black suit that made Tony's face appear even paler than yesterday. The dark smudges under his eyes had certainly deepened.
With the service over the crowd of mourners had disbursed into smaller groups, leaving Pete & Helen and the Reverend still standing by the open gravesite. Becky's coffin was strewn with her favourite daisies. It had been a heart wrenching service -the senseless loss of a child's is one of life's most incomprehensible cruelties.
Gibbs knew many of the JAG personnel due to the close association of the two agencies. Rear Admiral Holmes, spoke briefly with Gibbs' about the progress of the investigation and left to pay respects to the family.
He stood alone for a few moments, his trained eye scanning the crowd for his senior field agent. Momentarily, he spotted Tony sitting alone on a bench, a noticeable distance from the other mourners.
Initially, Tony was startled to see Gibbs walking towards him, especially after their heated exchange several hours before. Then he realized that he should have expected Gibbs would come. He sat beside Tony in silent support. A flicker of grief fleetingly revealed itself in Gibbs' eyes as he thought of another eight year old girl whose life had been, brutally and tragically lost, many years ago.
By attending the service, Gibbs knew he would evoke painful personal memories but he had chosen to do so to lend support to Tony. This fact was not lost on the younger man.
"Boss?" Tony began.
Gibbs met his gaze, as Tony searched for words that would not come. His unsaid words spoke volumes and both men silently acknowledged a mutual respect and affection that rarely found its voice but was as constant and as sure as night following day. Gibbs cupped a hand around the back of Tony's neck and gave a gentle squeeze.
"You're welcome, Tony," he said quietly.
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After the service, Gibbs had driven Tony back to the office as he was still unable to drive, due to the lingering effects of his concussion. They entered the bullpen, to find McGee and Ziva both hard at work, files piled high on their desks. Both exchanged nods of support with Tony.
Tony looked around at the large number of boxes stacked between their desks.
"Boss, it will take months to process these files. We only have 7 days."
For the first time since they'd met working a case in Baltimore, Gibbs heard despondency and defeat in the voice of his senior field agent and saw the despair clouding his green eyes.
Gibbs sent Tony down to the lab, primarily to check results of the tests on the burnt out car, but he knew that Tony was in need of a little Scuito TLC and he hoped Abby could work her magic on Tony's disheartened spirit.
Abby's head bobbed in time to her loud music and Tony turned down the volume of the stereo so that he could speak with her without shouting.
"Tony!" she exclaimed. She wrapped him in a strong embrace and then stepped back to appraise him.
"My poor baby! McGee was right. You do look like crap."
"Funny, how I never get tired of hearing that!" Tony said sarcastically.
Abby gently punched Tony on the shoulder and placed both of her hands on her hips.
"You mock me 'cause I care?" She asked playfully before concern flooded back into her expressive eyes. "I'm worried about you Tony. You're pale and you've got this baggy, dark thing going on under your eyes. Kinda like me when I have a late night and go to bed without removing my eye makeup. Not that I'm suggesting for a minute that you wear makeup, Tony – although all of my male Goth friends do – but you're not Goth and you don't need makeup 'cause you're, like, totally hot without it – but I'm just saying that if…"
"I'm fine Abs," he replied, rubbing her arm gently. "What have got on the burnt out car?"
"Hmmm, straight down to business – very Gibbs-like but I much prefer your Tony impression." She smiled sadly. "I haven't seen him in a while and I miss him."
"Abs?"
"Okay, okay. We've got nothing, I'm afraid. The car from the warehouse was totally French-fried and an accelerant was used to ensure excessive temperature and maximum damage. I wasn't able to extract any prints, or DNA." She said wincing as she watched Tony's hands clench into fists in frustration. "I'm running some tests to try to identify the type of accelerant he used but that's going to take a while."
"My guess is that the car was wiped clean and then barbequed. Whoever this guy is, Tony, he's like, way smart!! I'd say that he's not only medically trained, but there's a good possibility that he's trained in forensics as well."
Tony's shoulders drooped visibly at Abby's report. SecNav's new directive to allocate a "cold case" status after two weeks, hung over Tony's head like an anvil. They desperately needed a break in this case.
"Abs, did you get anything from the hair samples?" he asked.
"Nothing helpful," Abby replied. "The shortness of the hair and lack of hair dye chemicals or trace elements used in hair gel or hair spray products would indicate that the hair comes from a male. However, the reduced melanocyte activity has caused the hair to go grey which gives us an age band of over 35."
"So, a male with greying hair over 35," Tony said. "Hell, Abs, that narrows our suspect list to about 80 million. 80 million and 1 if you include Gibbs! Did you test the hair for drugs?"
"I did," Abby said. "As you know, hair testing is considered accurate and can date back as far as 90 days. As hair grows out, any drugs used are encased in the hair shaft. Longer hair can reveal an individual's drug history spanning a longer period than shorter hair. There was evidence of unnatural chemicals in the hair, but the traces were so small that Major Mass Spec was unable to identify them. It could have been anything Tony, cold and flu tablet, vitamin supplement, tylenol or barbituates and narcotics. I don't have the equipment to determine that level of nano particles."
Wanting to comfort her friend, Abby gave Tony a hug and squeezed tightly.
"Don't you give up yet, Mister," she said. "This guy may be good but we're better. He'll make a mistake soon and this case will break wide open."
Tony nodded sullenly and broke from Abby's embrace. His head tilted as he noticed that she was wearing one plain red knee-high sock and one black sock with red vampire bats on it.
"Abs, do you realise that you're wearing odd socks?" Tony asked.
Abby looked at her feet and beamed a radiant smile at him. "As a matter of fact, I do know that, Tony," she said. "But you know what they say about odd socks."
"I didn't know they said anything about odd socks," Tony answered.
"Well, they do!" Abby replied. "They say it's a sign of an incredible intellect."
Tony looked thoughtful for a moment before he responded.
"I don't disagree about the incredible intellect Abs, but I think it's a sign that you should turn the light on before you get dressed." He kissed her cheek before re-joining the team in the bullpen.
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The team spent the remainder of the day and into the evening reviewing more of Commander Barnes' legal files. It was a painfully slow process. At 2100 hours Gibbs called for his agents to go home. He wanted to speak with the Director before he left, so he asked McGee to drop Tony at his apartment. Gibbs would call to collect him in the morning.
He watched as Tony shoved some additional files into his backpack for some extra work from home. He opened his mouth to object but thought better of it, waiting for a better time to broach the subject. The younger agents headed for home as Gibbs walked to the main lobby to await the arrival of his take-out order. Once it arrived, he tipped the delivery boy and made his way up the stairs to the Directors office.
As he opened the door to her office, Jenny looked at him over the top of her glasses. Her large mahogany desk was awash with case files and administrative papers.
"Time for a late supper, Director?" he asked.
"To tell you the truth, Jethro, I'd welcome the break," she sighed wearily and signalled for Gibbs to take a seat on the couch as they prepared their napkins and eating utensils and opened the food containers.
"Ooh, French cuisine, my favourite, but then you know that don't you?" she teased. "What makes me think this lovely gesture has more to do with asking a favour than reminiscing about days gone by?"
"It's this damn mandate SecNav has set." Gibbs was never one for small talk and was clearly irritated. "Two weeks per case, then move on – no exceptions! You know yourself, Jen, that's no way to run any investigation."
"Yes, I know, Jethro, I met…." Jenny's sentence was cut off as Gibbs continued.
"My team has no new leads and just 7 days to review over 300 legal files that may have no relevance to these killings."
"Jethro, I agree that…."
"Meanwhile, my entire team, hell, every team in the agency, keeps looking over their shoulders as this ridiculous two week time-frame looms over all of us."
Jenny hesitated before speaking, unsure of whether Gibbs was going to let her enter the conversation at all. When she noticed him place a generous portion of food in his mouth, she began.
"I know, Jethro and I'm sorry," Jenny explained. "I met with SecNav this morning hoping to persuade him to review this decision."
"Why didn't you tell me??" Gibbs asked. "And??"
"And, he told me that if I can't ensure his directives are met, he would find someone who could. I believe he mentioned my Deputy, Leon Vance." Her voice held a mixture of bitterness and embarrassment. "You have 7 days to find a new lead or a "cold case" status will be allocated. I'm sorry, Jethro, it looks like you wasted this delicious Coquilles Saint-Jacques."
Gibbs opened the wine poured two glasses and took a small sip. He shrugged his shoulders. "Not a total waste!" he said.
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