Disclaimer : Still own nothing. If you recognize it, I still don't own it. I also make no money from this.
Warnings : Graphic descriptions of a corpse. Minor violence. Mentions of rape.
Author's Note : First, I'd like to start off as always thanking everyone who is reading, favoriting and following this story. I appreciate that time you're taking to experience this story with me. I'd also like to give a huge thanks to PaisleyGibbs, diana teo, Gottahavemyncis, ytteb, charmed4eva112, and AussieTayla for the reviews and letting me know what they think.
Second, I'd like to make a few corrections to the story going forward. I was made aware of a few inaccuracies in the last chapter. So there are a few minor changes for the character of SSgt. Mathews. He is no longer a West Point grad (one will only graduate as a commissioned officer of Captain or higher), he now graduated from Penn State. He is no longer a commanding officer (this is only the highest ranking officers), instead he is a squad leader. As far as the FBI taking over McGee's case, I'm not 100% sure that FBI has jurisdiction over a missing agent's case. I assumed after some minor research that they would. So forgive me if it's inaccurate, but we got to see Fornell. I also appreciate the heads up to make this story accurate.
Anyway, I'm making a Sunday update to move the story forward a bit and I'd like to get those corrections sorted out.
I took some liberties with fingerprint matching in this story.
Also, I do introduce a new bad guy in this chapter. Good guys get partners, so shouldn't bad guys have one too?
Hope everyone is having a nice weekend.
Let's get on with it.
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8:26pm, Bullpen - NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC -
Taking another swig of his coffee, Gibbs rose and started to leave the bullpen. He ignored Ziva's questioning eyes and focused his thoughts on autopsy. Even though it was growing late, he knew the aging medical examiner would still be in his office to consult. Taking the stairs, he needed a few extra minutes to clear his mind and try connect some dots that seemed to not make sense. In the hall, the stench of death filled his nose before he even entered autopsy. He pushed through the doors and found the morgue darkened.
"Duck?" he called out, looking for signs of life. The irony was certainly not lost on him.
Mirrored doors on the far side of the lab opened and light spilled out of the office.
"Jethro!" Dr. Donald Mallard said warmly. "Come in."
Entering the tight office, Gibbs took a quick look around and noticed an open bottle of whiskey on the medical examiner's neat desk.
"Little early for that, huh, Duck?"
"I heard about Timothy and it's helped to ease my nerves. Poor boy. I'm reviewing the files that Ziva sent down on your petty officer. Sadly, there is not much for me on which to build a personality analysis. He appears to be a young loner who uses marijuana recreationally. His reading material," he gestured to a pile of smutty magazines "indicates he is likely childish and unpredictable. Judging from the state Ziva stated his home was kept, I'm surprised he was able to catch the eye of such a beautiful girl as LCpl. Wilkowski." Gibbs nodded and Ducky continued. "To me, it seems as though he stopped living his life when his parents died two years ago. Aside from his activities at work, there is little to indicate he leaves the house for anything other than work or food."
Gibbs listened intently. Pausing for several beats, he finally asked, "Anything that shows how he might react with McGee?"
"Truthfully, there is nothing in his affects to make me think that he is a killer. I believe that he abducted Timothy in a moment of haste. I do not believe he intends to harm the young man. But I do believe he has the ability to become unpredictable if provoked."
"Thanks, Duck."
Gibbs turned on his heel ready to head out, when Mallard grabbed his arm.
"Jethro, I'm not done yet. There are some interesting things on our young Lance Corporal's body." Heading out of the office, he flipped on the autopsy lights and pulled the sheet off the body. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he shone the overhead lights on Wilkowski's body. "There, Jethro."
He pointed to several large bruises that covered the corpse.
"What are those?"
"It appeared she was punched repeatedly. Several of her ribs were broken," Ducky gestured behind him to unlit radiographs and Gibbs nodded. "But that's not the interesting part. Whoever made these marks was right handed and wearing some sort of large ring, like a class ring. Though she was stabbed fourteen times by a right handed person," Mallard pointed to the puncture wounds in her side. "This one that pierced her pericardial sac was cause of death. A tamponade, or blood filling the sac around the heart, put pressure on it and eventually stopped its beating. It reminds me of how they used to execute - "
"That painful?" Gibbs cut off the medical examiner before he could start into a story that contained no relevance to the task at hand.
"Excruciating. The poor girl suffered dearly..." Mallard looked sympathetically at the corpse's face. "But what is interesting about the wounds is that these stab wounds are more shallow indicating that they are pre-mortem. It was almost as though the killer was working up his courage to able plunge the knife into her heart. Likely, the killer is someone with whom she has history."
"Thanks Duck."
Readying to head out of autopsy, Gibbs was stopped by the medical examiner again. "How are you taking Timothy's disappearance, Jethro?"
"Fine, just fine. Thanks Duck," Gibbs said shortly, as he headed back to the elevator. As he entered the car, his phone gave an irritating ring. "Gibbs."
"Gibbs, Fornell here." The man on the other end of the phone paused, as if expecting a greeting. When he realized one was not coming, he continued. "I had a couple of agents from the Seattle branch interview Reynolds. Took a while, but she finally told them who raped her." Fornell stopped again, awaiting some acknowledgement from Gibbs.
"And who was it, Tobias?" Gibbs growled, stepping off the elevator and heading back to the bullpen.
"She fingered a man named Richard Reiben. Claimed he attacked her in Iraq and then threatened to kill her if she reported him."
Flipping the phone closed, Gibbs stalked back into the bullpen and saw his senior field agent starting to remove his coat. "Don't bother, DiNozzo. You and Wayne, go pick up Reiben."
Ziva clicked on her computer and Gibbs saw her face anger. He needed her here to run down computer leads since McGee was gone and everyone knew DiNozzo was worthless when it came to technology.
Sighing, Tony's featured tightened and he shrugged his coat back on. "C'mon Batman, let's roll!"
Wayne rounded the corner, clutching a McDonald's bag and buttoning his coat. "Can I eat this in the car, Alfred?"
"Only if you stop calling me Alfred."
"Sounds good, Robin. Now can I drive?"
Gibbs rolled his eyes as the two bickered about nicknames and Batman on the way out of the bullpen. As irritating as it was, his senior agent did need a distraction and whatever was going on with Wayne seemed to be helping. At this point, he didn't care if DiNozzo needed to do cartwheels around the office as long as it made him focus.
Playing with his computer, Gibbs tried and catastrophically failed at an internet search. He glanced at the two case files on his desk and leafed through them. The contents had been read and reread. Every word was burned into his brain, but there was still some connection that was missing.
Maybe Abby had something...
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9:16pm - Forensic Lab - NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC -
One of them was beeping. One of her babies had something.
"Yessss!" Forensic scientist Abigail Scuito cheered and hugged her stuffed hippo, Bert. "Now we have something and it'll bring Timmy home!"
The machine begging for her attention was Fernando, her computer that was running the partial print from the pot bag in Hanrahan's home. Unfortunately, the finger print was only good enough for a five point match. Odds were good that there would be several hits since Abby had checked every database she could think of.
"Six hundred eighty one?!" she wailed, dropping her head onto Bert.
He farted his sympathies to her. As she wallowed in despair, a sloshing noise alerted her. Not moving, she moaned.
"Gibbs, I can't take anymore of the CafPow Powberry! I ran it through Major Mass Spec and there's no extra caffeine."
She heard him put the cup on her lab table. "Just the regular stuff, Abs. Whaddya got?"
"Nothing Gibbs. I have nothing," she wailed, on the brink of tears. "The only thing I have is a partial print and six hundred eighty one possible suspects! I have checked and rechecked the metal shavings from Ducky and it's definitely a bayonet from a confederate rifle. I need the weapon to compare to the wound. There's nothing on Hanrahan's computer aside from porn. Lots and lots and lots of porn. I need help..." She suddenly burst into tears and Gibbs drew her close. "I need McGee's help, but he's not here. It's my job to find out where he is and I can't."
Gibbs kissed her forehead and looked deeply into her eyes, red and mascara stained. "Not your job, Abs. It's mine to find him and bring him home safe. You run that check on Hanrahan's car?"
She nodded. "Only footage of Hanrahan's car was blowing through an EZPass, getting off I-76 in central Pennsylvania."
"Cross check the guys on that list." Gibbs pointed to Fernando. "Then see if any of them knew Hanrahan or own property in PA." Before she could speak, Gibbs answered his phone. "Yeah, Gibbs...okay, I'm on my way." Flipping the phone closed, he hugged her again and she willed herself not to cry again. "I'll bring him home, Abs. I promise."
A single kiss to her forehead and he was gone.
Reaching across the computer, Abby clicked a few times and put up her favorite picture of McGee. She lit her Bunsen burner in front of it, even though she wasn't intending to use the flame. A long, cold sip of her favorite beverage readied her for action. She looked at the picture of the missing agent.
"You still owe me a Caf-Pow."
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10:05pm, unknown place-
McGee had been dozing uncomfortably against the wall when Hanrahan burst into the mudroom, throwing the overhead light on. Even though his eyes were adjusting to the light, McGee could still see the glint of the gun on Hanrahan's waistband. His chest tightened and he wondered what brought the Petty Officer back.
The Navyman said nothing as he unlocked McGee's cuffs and motioned for him to stand. Rubbing his wrists, the agent sat rooted to the floor. He couldn't get the thought of dying out of his head.
"Get up," the petty officer ordered, pulling McGee to his feet.
A hard shove sent the agent stumbling towards the door. With every step, he wondered how many more he had to take. Paralyzed, he felt sick to his stomach. An exasperated sigh came from Hanrahan, who placed a strong arm on his shoulder and pushed him out of the mudroom and into a small bathroom.
"Take your time, Tim."
McGee bristled at the use of his first name. As Hanrahan left and closed the door, he gripped the sink to steady himself. It took him several seconds to realize he had not used the bathroom since he'd left NCIS headquarters that morning. Had it really only been the morning? It felt like the entire ordeal had taken days, not merely hours.
He relieved himself, washed his hands and splashed water on his face to hide the trails of the few tears that escaped earlier. As he opened the door, Hanrahan reappeared with gun in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Handing the water to McGee, he gestured the agent back to the mudroom.
"Thought you might be thirsty."
Even in the poorly lit room, the water looked filmy and slightly discolored. Smelling the water, McGee couldn't pick anything up but something seemed off. Weighing his options, he debated about what to do. The liquid had likely been tampered with.
Shaking his head, he held it out to Hanrahan. "'I'm not thirsty."
"Just drink it."
"No, I don't want to."
"Tim, just drink it," Hanrahan urged, fear creeping into his voice.
As McGee forced the glass into Hanrahan's hands, another man stormed into the room. Standing at least half a foot taller then McGee and thickly-built, the man glared at the agent menacingly. He wrested the weapon from Hanrahan.
"Stoakes, don't. Michael, don't!"
Stoakes held up a hand to silence the petty officer. "You're being too G-ddamn nice. On your knees, fed."
McGee's eyes flicked from Stoakes' angry black ones to Hanrahan's wide, worried ones. The petty officer did not seem to have any control on the situation. Feeling nauseous, McGee sank to his knees and Hanrahan passed the glass back to him. As Stoakes placed the gun barrel to his forehead, McGee closed his eyes tightly.
"Drink it."
The agent complied, downing the water as quickly as his stomach would allow. The trio remained frozen for several minutes until McGee started to pitch forward. Feeling off kilter, he placed his hands on the ground to steady himself. As he held on, he could feel it tilting with him.
A pair of hands locked under his armpits and pulled him across the room, but he felt too limp to fight. The world was sliding sideways and he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He felt his arms drawn behind him and secured to the pipe again. He felt fuzzy and ticklish. Just as he was about to start giggling, he was out.
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11:19pm - Interrogation - NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC -
As he stood in the viewing room by interrogation, DiNozzo almost felt bad for LCpl. Richard Reiben. The young Marine had been readying himself for bed when he and Wayne had stopped by his house to pick him up. Wayne had gone into Bat-mode and hauled the man into interrogation. Now Reiben sat, in pajamas, staring blankly at the interrogation table.
"Did I miss anything?" Wayne asked, entering the viewing room.
Shaking his head, DiNozzo held out his hand and Wayne slipped three fifties into it. They had stopped at Wendy's on the way back on the premise of getting food for Ziva and Gibbs, but in reality, Wayne really did need to win his bet. Of course, Tony had definitely not helped the younger man secure his winnings by taking a picture of him in the car at the drive-thru or vouching for him. Gibbs would never allow him to do something like that.
Ignoring Wayne as he pulled a cheeseburger out his pocket, DiNozzo studied Reiben more. If he had to say, the man looked terrified. The door to interrogation opened and Gibbs strode in, two files in hand. This was Tony's favorite part... when his team leader just sat and stared at the suspect.
"That's it?" Wayne asked. Placing a finger on his lips, Tony motioned for him to watch.
Reiben's eyes widened at Gibbs. "Why am I here, sir? I told you everything that I know about Leah's death."
Reaching into his case files, Gibbs pulled out one picture at a time and dramatically slammed it on the table. A photo of Wilkowski's body. A photo of a young woman DiNozzo assumed to be Elyse Reynolds. A photo of McGee that made DiNozzo visibly flinch.
"Got any more food?" he whispered to Wayne, who passed him a still-warm cheeseburger. Tony decided not to ask how it traveled and managed to stay warm.
"That's Elyse Reynolds, sir. What does this have to do with her?"
"She says you raped her in Iraq and then threatened to kill her if she told anyone. Is that what happened with Wilkowski? Who'd she tell?" As Gibbs spoke, Reiben almost looked relieved until the words sank in.
"I didn't rape anyone, sir, and I didn't kill Leah." The Marine's cheeks turned pink and he looked like he might burst into tears.
"Where were you Sunday night, Marine?" Gibbs asked.
"With my significant other, sir." Reiben blushed fiercely and his eyes dropped, evading Gibbs'.
"Where were you?"
"My significant other and I were at my house, watching TV all night then we went for a run the next morning. Sir." His eyes were fixated on the photo of Wilkowski's body.
DiNozzo covered his eyes as soon as he realized where the interrogation was headed. There was no way.
"Stop screwing around, Marine," Gibbs pounded the table. "Who were you with? One of my agents is missing because of this case."
"My boyfriend. Jonas White, sir." Reiben cried out, the tears starting down his face. "I couldn't have raped Elyse or Leah. I'm not attracted to them." As Gibbs rose and left the room, DiNozzo couldn't help but feel sorry for the Marine as he sobbed into the interrogation table. Likely, the man knew his planned military career would be over if his and his lover's secret got out.
Wayne let out a low whistle. "Impressive."
DiNozzo headed to find Gibbs. He didn't have to look far since his boss was in the hall yelling at someone on the phone. "I don't care. She lied to those agents. I still don't care. I don't care!She had better be in my interrogation by 0800!"
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Author's Note 2.0 : Don't Ask, Don't Tell is still in effect during the time of the story. It was repealed 9.20.11.