Chapter 11
San Diego, California
Naval Base San Diego
NCIS field office
Forensic psychologist Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane finally finished the stack of profiles that had been emailed to her overnight from NCIS headquarters in Washington.
All she had been told by the sender – Director Jenny Shepard – was to read each profile and give the director her professional opinion. Sloane hadn't been told why she had been asked to profile these specific people – G Callen, Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, Michael Renko, Juliana Todd, Caitlin Todd, Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles and Leroy Jethro Gibbs – just to do it ASAP. She pulled an all-nighter and drank three pots of coffee to get the reading portion completed, and felt as if she was swimming in java and jacked-up (no pun intended) on caffeine. Now she had to type up her report, email it to the director, and head to the back room for a long nap.
Sloane had been the only person in the field office since before 8 o'clock the previous night, and didn't expect the San Diego team members to arrive for another half-hour.
She certainly didn't expect a half-dozen Marines – one carrying a large box – and the base commander to burst in and head right to her desk.
"Where's Agent Carroll?" barked Navy Captain Joe Hodge, the commander of what was locally referred to as 32nd Street Naval Station.
"At Disneyland with his family," Sloane said. "Commander, what's going on here?"
"Contact him, tell him to get his ass back here now," Hodge barked at a Marine, who pulled out a cell phone and placed a call. Hodge turned back to Sloane. "Are you the ranking agent here…Ms. Sloane?" he asked, taking a close look at the badge hanging from her neck.
"I suppose so, for the moment," she said. "As I asked, Commander, what's going on here? What's in that box?"
"This box arrived at our front door around 0530, just under an hour ago," he said. "There was a note taped to the side of the box, which is addressed to your field office. One of our canines reacted to the box, leading the guard at the front entrance to open the package. This is what we found."
At the commander's nod, one of the Marines began clearing Sloane's desk over her protests; the Marine carrying the box placed it on the desk, then opened it.
Sloane's hand flew to her mouth as she realized what was in the box.
Washington
Navy Yard
NCIS Headquarters
Multiple Threat Assessment Centre
Shepard stood straight in front of the large screen in the back of the room, split four ways, showing feeds from the other people involved in this impromptu meeting. In the upper left was Mossad Director Eli David; to his right, San Diego Naval Base commander Blake; below him, NCIS Assistant Director Leon Vance on a cell phone feed somewhere in southern California; and to his left, Hetty Lange from the Operations Center of the NCIS Office of Special Projects headquarters in Los Angeles.
"And this note read 'you have nothing to give me; keep sending your people and they will end up like this'?" Shepard said. "And her identification was in the box alongside her…remains?"
"Affirmative, Director," Hodge said. "Officer Liat Tuvia's head was in the box. Her badge and other identification papers were found in an envelope made of some sort of plastic."
"You still have possession of the remains?"
"In a secured area, Madam Director. No one's getting in or out. Will your San Diego office be taking over the investigation?"
"No, Assistant Director Vance will be heading it," Shepard said, apparently to Vance's surprise, although he only indicated it with a raised eyebrow. "He'll be in contact with you shortly, as will I."
"Of course," the commander said. "I'd like to know who in the hell killed a foreign operative and sent her head to my base."
"So do I, Commander. If you'll excuse me, there are some matters I need to address with my people first before I touch base with you again," Shepard replied, giving the hand-across-the-neck gesture to an aide to cut the commander's feed.
"Director David, my deepest and sincerest condolences on the death of your officer," she said to the head of Mossad. "Rest assured, we will find her killer and bring her to justice."
"I, too, would like to know who killed my officer, Director," David replied. "And, 'rest assured', Mossad will not rest until we find the killer."
"I wouldn't expect any less…just not within U.S. territory," she said. "This is where NCIS holds up its end of the relationship between our agencies. I will keep you in the loop, every step of the way, Director David. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have related business to attend to." She gave the 'cut' signal to the aide before David could respond.
That left a split screen of Vance and Lange. "Did you find anything relevant to our case, Leon?"
Vance was calling from the Imperial Valley of southern California, where he and a team of agents had combed over an abandoned house off Interstate 8 in the outskirts of the town of Holtville. "Just this," he said, holding up a passport and a manifest. "The passport is out of Mexico. The manifest suggests clothing was aboard a Cessna Citation XLS business jet that left El Centro Airport headed for Hidalgo, Mexico—"
"Except that aircraft landed instead somewhere in the desert near the city of Chihuahua," Lange interjected. "The plane was left alone and discovered by local authorities last night. The Mexican federales took over the investigation, and discovered four human-sized bags with blood in them this morning—"
"How have you heard about this and I haven't?" an irked Shepard said.
"The information was sent to NCIS within the past ten minutes, by email," Lange said. Shepard turned and ordered an aide to find that email; she then took the printout and read it.
"Great. No word on where the 'contents' may have gone," Shepard said. "Leon. Make sure you secure that house, and head to San Diego. Have the field office help you, and that includes working with the Mexicans on that plane and finding out whose blood it is and where whatever was in that plane may have been taken. I'll be in touch shortly."
Vance nodded and cut the feed, leaving Lange alone with Shepard. "Have your people been able to get anything out of that video, Hetty?"
"Mr. Beale and Ms. Jones have poured over every frame and are no closer to discovering a location than before," Lange said. "Director, Mr. Callen is headed to speak to one of his associates now to try to get some clarification—"
"Arkady Kolcheck," Shepard said. "Who seems to know everybody. Have Callen ask him what he knows about Delgado—"
"Director!"
A young agent fresh out of the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Georgia thrust herself in front of Shepard. "Agent DiNozzo and his team's trying to leave the facility and are being held at the gate per your instructions ma'am but they're really insistent they have to leave now—" the agent said without seemingly stopping to take a breath.
How the woman – who went through FLET-C at Shepard's insistence – got into MTAC and snuck up on Shepard was something the director would address later. There was a bigger issue to address at this moment.
Shepard cut Lange's feed and quickly left MTAC to head to the front gate of the Navy Yard. About ten minutes later, the director – surrounded by agents – met DiNozzo, Agent McGee and Mossad officer Ziva David.
"Jenny, you need to let us go, now," DiNozzo said.
"You're not supposed to go anywhere without my permission, Agent DiNozzo," Shepard said. "I told you after Agent Gibbs disappeared and was taken you were benched for your protection, so whomever took him and Agent Todd and Officer Rizzoli and her wife—"
"Wouldn't kidnap us, either," DiNozzo replied. "You know we're not just going to sit on the sidelines, not on this—"
"I know you'll do as I say, whether you like it or not," Shepard replied. "You weren't even to go investigate a fly on a dead petty officer without my permission. Yet here you are."
"Time's wasting, Director. We have a flight—"
"Had a flight. You find out something I don't know?"
"We got a phone call about 45 minutes ago," McGee said. "News media in Boston leaked a story that Boston police had kept quiet about for the past few days."
Shepard took a deep breath. "This is connected how?"
"A Latina masquerading as a NCIS officer was discovered by Boston police officers and detectives this morning, hiding in a safe house," Ziva David said. "The woman was shot but is alive and being held under guard."
"And if I guessed this was connected to our missing people…" Shepard said.
"You'd be right," DiNozzo said. "I spoke with an Officer Korsak who said the woman was asking questions about Jane and Maura, and claims she knows where they were taken. But she's asking for a lot in return."
"How much?"
"100 million dollars, exoneration from all crimes, flight to whatever country the U.S. doesn't have an extradition treaty with. She gave us a clock, too. 24 hours, or the deal's gone, and then she won't open her mouth for God Himself."
Los Angeles
Agents G Callen and Sam Hanna pulled up to one of the mansions owned by Russian Arkady Kolcheck. The owner, Callen knew, would likely be home, and not off running his private security firm. Callen and Kolcheck knew each other dating back to the time when Callen worked for the CIA and Kolcheck for the Russian KGB intelligence agency.
Callen used Kolcheck as a sort of Confidential Informant, and hoped the man would be able to shed some light on the kidnappings, and who arranged them.
The NCIS agents parked on the street in front of the mansion and, after showing their badges to the guards, were taken to the pool in the back. Kolcheck was reading the morning copy of the Los Angeles Examiner while laying on a pool chair, clad only in a red bikini.
Kolcheck awaited their arrival, as if he'd been expecting them all morning.
"Now that's an image I could have gone my entire life without seeing," Hanna deadpanned. "At least put some shorts on."
"And not tan my torso? Be glad I am not nude, Agent Hanna," Kolcheck said. "Callen, it is good to see you, and you as well, Agent Hanna. I trust this is not a social visit, however?"
Callen pulled up a picture on his phone and showed it to Kolcheck. "You know this woman, Arkady?"
Kolcheck looked at the photo for a few moments, and his eyes went wide. "O боже..."
"You know her?" Hanna said, impatiently.
Kolcheck looked at the photo again, then looked up at Callen and Hanna. "Yes, but only by reputation."
"Tell us what you know, Arkady," Callen said. "All of it."
"She goes by many names, but is known in certain circles as 'The Angel of Death'," Kolcheck said. "Beautiful, charming, and deadly. She works for hire, and word on the street says she was hired to kill by African warlords, Mexican cartels, Asian crime lords, even Castro himself. She is said to be so dangerous, Castro paid her a fortune to leave him alone forever."
"How dangerous?" Hanna said. "What has she done?"
"Her specialties are said to be intelligence-gathering and assassination," Kolcheck said. "She is not above torture to find out what she wants to know, and no one of any age is exempt from her methods."
"'Any age'," Callen said, not liking what he thought he was going to hear.
"Meaning children, Callen. The elderly. And anyone in between. I hope whatever case you're on doesn't put you into contact with this woman."
Neither agent said a word in response.
"Then good fortune be on your side, because you will need it," Kolcheck said. "Is there another question you wanted to ask me about?"
"You have any idea who this 'Angel of Death' might have worked for most recently, or where?" Hanna asked.
"No, but there is a person I can ask. Now, any other questions?"
"Have you heard of a Victor Delgado?" Callen asked.
Kolcheck paused, and remembered something. "Again, not personally, but only by reputation. He is known across the world as a minor drug lord based in the Caribbean. He is said to be as ruthless as the worst Mexican and Colombian drug lords, but is not motivated by power or money."
"Then what is he motivated by?" Hanna said.
"No one knows, or has gotten close enough to ask, or gotten close to and stayed alive long enough to tell," Kolcheck said. "I hope your case doesn't put you into contact with him, either."
Again, neither Callen nor Hanna replied.
"Ah. You cannot speak of your current case, as is always the case. I understand," Kolcheck said, rising from his pool chair and giving both men much more of an eyeful than they wanted to see of Kolcheck in a lifetime. "Can I have something prepared for you before you go? Some orange juice, perhaps, or brunch?"
"Thanks, Arkady, but we don't have time," Callen said. "Do put some shorts or pants on, though, for your guards' sakes if nothing else."
"But I am wearing a bottom—" Kolcheck protested, but Callen and Hanna were already on their way out.
Once they got in Hanna's car and were back out on the freeway, Callen called OSP for any updates. Lange took the call from tech specialist Eric Beale and told them Director Shepard had ordered them to divert to Los Angeles International Airport. There, both men would board a C-32 aircraft that would fly directly to Boston, where they would interrogate The Angel of Death herself.