Disclaimer: I own neither NCIS nor Dark Angel.

AVAWAVAWAVAWAVAWAVAWA

Seeing Eyes

Chapter 11

by marbleglove

AVAWAVAWAVAWAVAWAVAWA

Gibbs finally got through traffic to Jam Pony just in time to follow the whole cavalcade to the abandoned area. He was growling under his breath as he parked and fought his way through the mob at the outer perimeter. Juarez was silent and watchful in his wake, apparently having decided that the better part of valor was to stay silent and not make a target of himself for his boss' wrath.

Finally, he made it to where Fornell was directing operations. He'd only had to—or only gotten to—punch out two people to get there.

"DiNozzo's in there," Gibbs stated rather than asked. Actually, he practically shouted it, in order to be heard over the crowd.

Fornell answered it none the less. "Yes. Yes. On the upside, I finally got to arrest that idiot White. He's being taken back to headquarters to be interrogated. Why don't you go there and help out with that."

It was a blatant brush off and Gibbs treated it with all the derision it deserved.

"Could this day get any more complicated?" Fornell inquired at the sky.

Gibbs eyed the flag being raised over the compound before them. "You should know better than to ask that." He pointed. "I think they just declared independence."

Fornell sighed. "Declared independence with a couple of city blocks entirely surrounded by the rest of the US? Lovely."

"Well, they do have an army." Juarez piped up.

Both Gibbs and Fornell glared at him until he stepped back with arms raised. Fornell snorted and turned back go Gibbs. "And yet, there still aren't any Navy personnel involved. What are you doing here? And what is DiNozzo doing? A ten-year undercover mission is a bit much."

"It wasn't a mission. He got into this all on his own."

"You sure you want to tell me that?"

"If I change my mind, I'll let you know."

"Because," Fornell spoke right over Gibbs. "It would be real nice to have an agent inside who I could talk to."

Gibbs laughed. "Okay, get me a bullhorn."

"What, you can't just shout over it all?" Fornell mocked. They could barely hear their own conversation over the crowd, and he was already waving for an underling to bring over a bullhorn.

Once Gibbs had it, he stalked to the fence. "DINOZZO."

It wouldn't exactly be a heart-warming scenario, the sentimental meeting of two estranged almost-friends. His third wife had a thing for Hallmark movies. This would have been the perfect plot for one, Gibbs thought, if only the characters were different. Gibbs didn't really do warm sentimentality. That might have had something to do with the break-up from wife number three.

A minute passed by.

"DINOZZO. GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE."

And then there he was, jogging out of the building towards the fence line. Gibbs walked to meet him. DiNozzo looked half-way pleased ad half-way annoyed, just as he always had when Gibbs had summoned him to his side. Seeing him, Gibbs couldn't resist: "Took you long enough."

"Hey Gibbs, long time no see. I'd say that you have changed a bit except, well, you've somehow managed to become even less subtle than you were before. Calling for me by DiNozzo?"

DiNozzo paused but Gibbs didn't reply.

"I know you know my name."

Gibbs still didn't reply, just looked at his old partner.

With fake cheer, DiNozzo said, "Hi! I'm Logan Cale." Then he fell silent and just started back. The ball was in Gibbs' court. He took his time responding.

Physically, DiNozzo looked younger than Gibbs could ever remember seeing him. Even when they had first met and DiNozzo had given him that grim that made him look about five, DiNozzo had still had faint crows feet at the corners of his eyes. Those lines were no longer there but the smile was gone too. Physically, DiNozzo looked younger, but Gibbs had no trouble at all remembering that he was older now.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?"

DiNozzo, no, Cale looked a bit affronted but after a moment, answered back. "Oh, just trying to stop crime and corruption, just like always. Under the circumstances," he grabbed the chain link fence between them and rattled it to make the point, "I'd say that my position is fairly clear. The question really is, what are you doing here?"

His third wife would tell him that now was the time to say that he had come to help DiNozzo. It would even be true. There was a reason why his third wife had divorced him. Gibbs answered truthfully, "There's some breeding cult that's trying to start a plague. They say it's going to start in the Seattle area."

There was a flash of something on Cale face. Disappointment, maybe? Something sad, certainly. Gibbs' wondered what Cale had expected, then brushed the thought aside. Whatever it was, Cale clearly brushed it aside as well. He looked intent. It had been that look that had first drawn Gibbs to the cop way back when. That was the look of someone with a lead or two and ideas of how to get more.

"The breeding program is the Familiars: thousands of years old, cult-like, with definite hierarchy but no single leader that I know of. One member, Sandeman…"

"Broke off from the rest and started Manticore." Gibbs interrupted, completing the sentence.

Cale blinked with surprise. "Where are you getting your information? Are you psychic? I think I'd believe it if you said yes." Gibbs ignored that and Cale continued. "So if you already have the background, I've got a few addresses of places you'll want to check out. There's a private school and a sanitarium that both seem to be central meeting points for the Familiars, not to mention the old Manticore compound."

"Give the addresses to Juarez."

Gibbs waved his agent forward but didn't bother to provide introductions. He wasn't entirely sure what introductions he could have provided. There was a tense moment before the two both switched to pure professionalism. It was definitely Logan Cale who gave the addresses along with directions and advice. Juarez wrote it all down without comment. He even bit back the reply he had wanted to make when Gibbs told him to go check out all three locals and then report back. Cale watched it all with studious impassivity. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn't making it public knowledge.

They both waited until Juarez was lost in the crowd again.

"Cale, what are you doing?"

"Making a difference. These guys have been majorly screwed over. They need a chance at justice."

"And you think you can get it from inside a compound?"

"I think they're a lot more likely to get it from in there than they would if they were out on the streets getting lynched."

It was a good point, Gibbs had to admit. He was clearly not made to be a negotiator. He was more inclined to shoot his way out of situations and this wasn't the type of scenario that could be fixed by violence. There was too much of that going on already.

"Do you at least have a plan?"

"Gibbs, what makes you think I'm the one planning any of this?"

"You're twice as old as most of them and have a hell of a lot more experience in this kind of thing." It was obvious. Who else would be in charge?

"I doubt there's anyone alive today who has experience in this particular kind of thing. But more to the point, I'm not a transgenic, Gibbs. I'm not their leader, I couldn't be even if it were needed. A non-transgenic leading them would negate the whole effort. I just help out."

"If you're not the leader, then who is?" That was at least a significant bit of information. Gibbs castigated himself for assuming that the transgenics were either leaderless or following DiNozzo's lead, er, Cale's lead. It's just that, from the outside at least, they sure didn't look organized. So either they were as disorganized as they seemed or they were organized by the person who had made a career out of being a wildcard. But apparently there was someone else.

Cale smiled and it was almost as wildly happy and partially insane as DiNozzo's had been. "Max. My something."

"Your something," Gibbs repeated.

"Yeah. My something. Maybe girlfriend?"

"You're something all right. Are you going to invite me in to meet your something?"

"Maybe. Why do you want to? I already told you what I know about the Familiars."

"No, you didn't." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact. Gibbs wasn't even positive it was accurate, but he was pretty sure that Cale had kept something back. There was an obvious connection between the transgenics and the familiars, something that Sandeman, the founder, had wanted and that the Familiars hadn't. Gibbs would bet a great deal that Cale knew what that thing was.

Cale shrugged. It was as close to an admission as Gibbs was likely to get at this point.

"There's also a bunch of soldiers in there that need the sort of help that I can give."

"You're not exactly the negotiator type, Gibbs. What makes you think that you'll be able to convince those soldiers to accept your help. And what makes you think that whoever's in charge on your side will let you speak for them."

"Well, on my side, it's Fornell."

That surprised a laugh from Cale. "Fornell. God. I hadn't thought of him in years. But you two certainly had a way with each other."

"And on your side, you can vouch for me."

Cale went silent and watchful. The easy camaraderie drained away and the fence between them suddenly much more present than it had been before. Gibbs refused to back down from demanding loyalty more than a decade out of date.

Finally Cale nodded. "We'll have to see about that one. But for now, come on in."